Arcane (The Arinthian Line Book 1) (28 page)

A Secret Message

“Ugh, what a brat,” Leera said as they descended the steps.

Augum nodded as he pawed the banister. “Imagine if he’d come along …”

Bridget trailed last. “I think he should have been allowed to come.”

Leera stopped suddenly on the landing between the first and second floor. “Are you crazy?”

“I just … I kind of feel sorry for him, that’s all.”

“You feel sorry for him? He called us
gutterborn
, Bridge.”

Bridget winced at the word. “I know, but he can’t help himself. He wasn’t brought up right, that’s all. I’m sure he’s a good person inside.”

Leera gave Augum a look as if Bridget had completely lost her mind. “I … I don’t even know what to say, Bridge.”

Bridget exhaled a long breath. “Just forget it. Here, let me try this—” She withdrew the map, placed it on the ground, and held her hands over it. “Apreyo.” For a moment, nothing happened. Then a wrinkled piece of parchment fluttered out from under a covering of dust, re-attaching itself to the map.

“And just like that she’s partly redeemed!” Leera said with a sly smile. “But how did you know?”

Bridget shrugged. “Just guessed.” She examined the map and frowned. “It’s not the piece we need though; we’re still missing this one near the wall which should tell us where the passage starts.”

“Good idea anyway, Bridge, let’s keep it up,” Augum said. “Let me try next.”

They traded the map and practiced the spell as they descended. When they reached the foyer, they lit their palms and passed through the east doors for the first time.

Pieces of broken furniture, straw, mud, shards of glass, parchment, and other refuse littered the corridor.

Leera kicked a scorched wooden crate out of their way. “We’ve certainly got our work cut out for us. Some of this stuff’s burned, so we can’t even repair it.”

“It’s almost like something went on a rampage here,” Bridget said.

Leera pointed upward. “Maybe it was the prince when they refused him sweets.”

“If there’s anyone who can’t get enough sweets, it’s you.”

“I make no apologies.”

The trio did a bit of exploring before setting to work. There were seven small rooms and one larger room, each windowless and with a thin door. Augum guessed the larger room was for the head maid.

They began with the obvious—furniture and walls. They had little trouble using telekinesis on small objects; it was the larger ones that required all their concentration. More often than not, they had to tackle them together, as with the castle entranceway. Repairing steadily became easier with practice, especially once they found their rhythm. Someone would occasionally have a go at the map as well, though to no avail. At other times, they would try their hand with the Unconceal spell, which still gave them the most difficulty. They chatted as they worked, about Prince Sydo and the formal way he spoke; about Sir Gallows and his pipe; and about the servants and what kind of lives they led.

Augum recalled Mya’s almond green eyes and that radiant smile. He wondered which room would be hers.

“They’re just lucky Mrs. Stone gave them these rooms instead of the big communal one,” Bridget said, inspecting a repair they had just performed on a door. “Otherwise they’d have to sleep beside each other.”

Leera made a face. “I’d rather sleep in the crypt than beside Gertrude Grinds.”

Augum deposited an armful of broken furniture parts. “Mrs. Stone once said that if I don’t progress in degree, I could always push rocks around or become a servant. Is that what warlocks do when they hit the ceiling?”

“Not at all,” Bridget said. “Every occupation you can think of has warlocks in it. They’re not very common, of course, so are always in demand. Apprentice warlocks can even earn a wage working in a regular profession. But high degrees are extremely rare and very expensive.”

“So imagine a potter shaping pots with the earth element,” Leera said.

“Or a cook warming bread with the fire element—”

“A shoemaker—”

“—I get it, thanks.”

“Right.” Leera tapped her lips. “I wonder how far the servants got with their degrees …”

“Or if they even had the chance to study,” Bridget said. “Most people grow up like you, Augum, hardly knowing much about the arcane path.” She held her hands over the wood he had brought. “Apreyo.” Wooden spindles began attaching themselves to a seat; soon a chair stood before them.

Leera sat on it. “And most of those that do study don’t even get beyond the first few degrees.”

“I think everyone should have the chance to try,” Bridget said. “All those villages where they don’t even believe in arcanery … how many more kids could be going to academies?”

Leera shrugged. “Chair’s fine—next item.”

While the girls bantered on, Augum cast Unconceal for at least the tenth time that morning. He held his palm before him like a sensing rod. Settling into the spell, he suddenly felt a peculiar tug he never felt before. He slowly followed it, careful to keep focused. The source was a burned-out bed in the corner of the room. He slid underneath its charred frame.

Leera broke off what had turned into a heated conversation over the point of a warlock ox herder. “Find something, Aug?”

His focus shifted only a moment, yet that was all it took for the subtle pull to disappear. “Think so, hold on. Shyneo.” His palm lit up electric blue, making the bottom of the bed visible. He pawed around until his fingers closed over a burnt piece of parchment stuck between the slats. He removed it and sprang to his feet, beaming.

“I’m impressed,” Bridget said. “Well open it up, let’s see what it says—”

Leera crowded close, one hand on his shoulder, other on Bridget’s. “Might be another treasure map …”

“That’s the first time the spell has worked for me,” he said, carefully opening up the charred parchment while Leera and Bridget leaned in.

It was a letter. The portion that stuck out from the slats had burned off, but the rest was still readable. They read in silence.

… and in all haste. We have been unable to breach the castle’s secrets. We tried everything known on the fountain, yet still it refused to yield. As for the scion, we conclude it does not reside within these walls. Unfortunately, we ran out of time. She came and the castle opened for her like a flower. Its defenses are fearsome to behold and as sinister as your justice.

Alas, she comes! I now must attend to my final duty.

I sign with the hopes of incurring a swift death rather than suffering eternal damnation in undeath for having failed you, Lord Narsus.

The signature was burned away, but that did not matter.

“Darkest damnation,” Leera said. “Narsus …”

The trio glanced at each other.

“Think the woman it’s talking about is Mrs. Stone—?” Bridget asked, re-reading the parchment.

“Don’t know,” Augum replied. “I’m curious about the fountain part—entry to what?”

“Oh, the map!” Bridget retrieved it from her robes. They crowded around her. “You think the passage starts from the fountain?”

Leera shook her head. “The only thing is that the walls are a bit rocky; and that high up in the castle—? Seems kind of unlikely, don’t you think?”

Bridget frowned. “I don’t know …”

“Guess the only way to know for sure is to find the last piece of the puzzle,” he said.

Bridget swept a lock of hair with an ivy-laced palm. “I agree—let’s redouble our efforts.”

“At least now we know why there’s a torture room,” he muttered.

“They must have tormented people in the hope of learning about the scion and the fountain,” Leera said.

“—and it didn’t work,” Bridget added. “I wonder why a scion was supposed to be here though.”

They examined the letter again.

“Well whatever secret that fountain is hiding must be very important,” he said, pocketing the letter. “Can’t wait to find out what it is.”

Leera flashed a competitive grin. “Golden find, Aug—my turn to find something next!”

They continued with the repairs. After much toil, Bridget and Leera extinguished their hands and plopped down on a repaired bench.

Augum slumped against a wall, head throbbing and stomach churning from the arcane effort. Nonetheless, he kept his hand lit for them. He glanced about and smiled. Not only had they repaired every salvageable piece of furniture in the rooms and hallway, but all the doors and walls too. The only thing left to do was remove the burnt wood.

“Wish we had an hourglass,” Bridget said with closed eyes. “Think supper is almost ready?”

Leera rested her head on her knees. “Hope so.”

Bridget turned to Augum. “You know, this is far more practice than you’d get in school.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely, arcane school is much more about theory than practice.”

“Oh, didn’t realize. Hey, mind if I extinguish too?”

Bridget shook her head while Leera only moaned. He doused his palm and the three of them rested in pitch-dark silence until someone knocked on the foyer doors. The trio dragged themselves up, lit their palms, and went to see who it was.

When Augum opened the door, he saw two almond emerald eyes staring at him. Surprised, he just stood there gaping. Leera finally nudged him and he reddened, stepping aside to let Mya slip through the door.

“Thank you,” she said, holding a candle that allowed the trio to snuff out their palms.

Leera made a grand gesture at the hallway. “Welcome, Mya. Come to inspect our work?”

“Indeed yes.”

Augum felt his stomach flutter as she smiled. All he wanted to do was spend time with her and ask her questions about herself. What kind of person was she? Where did she come from?

“Ms. Grinds would like to know if the rooms are ready.” Mya’s rosy cheeks shone against her porcelain skin and jet hair.

“They are,” Bridget said. “Only the burnt wood needs to be removed.”

Mya waved a delicate hand. “Please don’t concern yourselves with that. I’ve come to tell you supper will be served shortly.”

Leera licked her lips. “Good, cause we’re starved.”

“Ah, here comes the inspection,” Mya whispered, gracefully turning to the sound of footsteps from the stairs.

Ms. Grinds glided down the stairs pinching her dress. “Well, girl, how does it look?”

Mya curtsied and dropped her eyes. “Begging your pardon, m’lady, I haven’t had the chance to look, however the children report the work is complete.”

Children
? It was like a kick to his stomach.

“We shall see then, won’t we?” Ms. Grinds, wearing a perpetual frown of disgust, stopped a short way down the hall and snapped her fingers. “Come along now.”

The trio and Mya hastily followed.

Augum thought the flickering candle too dim. “Shyneo.” His hand crackled to life.

Ms. Grinds briefly stopped and gave him a disapproving look before gathering her dress and moving on in rapid step.

Mya gave him a roguish smile. His heart tripled its pace and he felt his cheeks grow hot.

Ms. Grinds inspected each room as if her life depended on it, testing some of the furniture and re-arranging it into a more “adequate countenance.”

“But what of the charred remains?” she asked, frowning. “Did you not feel it necessary to remove the detritus?”

“We didn’t have the time, Ms. Grinds,” Bridget said in a strained yet polite voice.

“It’s nothing we can’t handle, m’lady,” Mya quickly said. “I don’t mind getting my hands dirty with soot.”

“Nor should you, girl. Very well then, you can do it this evening with the others after we set the kitchen right, just be sure to find out where the torches are.” She glanced about, shaking her head. “I have yet to see a single sconce or brazier. What sort of castle is this?”

“It’s an arcane castle,” Augum said. “There’s a servant diagram with instructions in the cellar.”

Ms. Grinds turned to him, face paler than usual in the blue light of his palm. “A diagram, you say?”

“Yes, in the cellar. It has loads of symbols and stuff. We can take you there if you like.”

“That will not be necessary. You three are excused. Mya, come with me, girl.”

Mya curtsied and followed Ms. Grinds, giving them a disconsolate backwards glance.

“Down to the cellar with only one candle … how brave,” Bridget said with a concerned look. “Should we follow them to make sure they find it all right?”

Leera crinkled her nose, swatting the idea aside. “Bah, they’ll be fine. Let’s eat.”

Augum badly wanted to follow and be useful, to light Mya’s way, to show them exactly where the plaque was—instead he found himself mutely following the girls.

“I’d hate to be her servant,” Leera said while climbing the marble steps.

“We do have Mrs. Stone,” Bridget said.

“True. Who do you think is stricter though?”

Bridget skipped the top step to the landing. “Mrs. Stone for sure—”

Augum extinguished his palm. “Mrs. Stone—she’s got more experience with it.”

The Prince

The trio entered the great dining room only to find it empty—except for a large bowl of hard winter apples in the middle of the table. Leera reached for one the moment they sat down.

“Leera Jones—” Bridget whispered in a scandalized voice, “what if that’s for the knights—or the prince?”

“Nonsense, I’m hungry.” She took a greedy bite. “Mmm … so tasty.” She shook the bitten apple under Bridget’s nose. “Bite?”

Bridget scoffed, crossed her arms and looked away.

Augum hesitated then caved to his hollow stomach. Having skipped breakfast, all he had eaten today was a single egg. He reached into the bowl and fished out the largest apple.

“Really now—” Bridget shook her head, but her eyes lingered on the bowl.

The skinny blonde servant girl Augum recognized as Rafinda walked in with a basket of sliced bread. Feeling guilty, he snuck bites when she was not looking.

“Wow, where’s all this coming from?” Leera asked, eyeing the bread like a predator sizing up prey.

Rafinda placed the basket at the far end of the table and curtsied. “My lady, some is from the prince’s supply, the rest is thanks to Mrs. Stone’s … magic.” An anxious look crossed her face upon spotting Leera biting an apple; she quickly curtsied and trundled off.