Clash (The Arinthian Line Book 4) (65 page)

“We’re going to tell Mr. Goss everything right away,” Bridget said.

“Of course we are, that’s what I meant.” Leera secretly rolled her eyes at Augum, but this time he forced himself to ignore it.

As soon as they made their way through the library entrance, they were accosted by a young gray-robed attendant. “You’re The Hood, right?” When Augum nodded, the boy handed over a note. “It’s urgent.” The boy strode away. Augum unfolded the small parchment as Bridget and Leera crowded near.

See me in my office immediately.

Secretary Prudence Klines

They exchanged a look before hurrying to the portal room, where they immediately bumped into Grizelda Watts and two Legion guards. “Ah, just the three I’ve been looking for.” She gave them a toady smile, simpering, “This way, dears.”

“We have to see Secretary Klines,” Augum said, holding out the note.

“I am sure you do, but we shall be seeing Senior Arcaneologist Ning first.”

“Why?”

Watts opened a portal as she adjusted her sharp spectacles. “You shall address me as Secretary Watts. I am certain I have earned the title. In you go.”

Augum rephrased the question. “Why must we see Senior Arcaneologist Ning, Secretary Watts?”

“Ask me again on the other side.”

The trio glanced at the two guards before hopping into the portal.

On the other side, Augum again asked the question. “You shall see,” was the infuriating response.

Watts led them down the hall, the two Legionnaires stumping along in the rear. Watts had a self-satisfied look on her face that worried Augum. He wondered if she had figured out what they were up to.

Watts stopped before the hulking oak doors that led to Senior Arcaneologist Ning’s chamber. She gestured idly at them but they refused to open. She swatted but they still refused to budge. “Oh for—” She strode up to a small gargoyle engraving. “Shyneo,” and placed her icily-lit palm on it. No sooner had she opened her mouth to speak when a voice barked, “Who is it!”

Watts, startled, clutched at her chest. “Dear me! You gave me quite the fright—”

“Stop wasting my time—” There was a fizzling sound.

“Yes, of course, Senior Arcaneologist Ning,” Watts replied in a sing-song voice. “May I please enter? There is a grave matter to be discussed immediately. Uh, hello? Senior Arcaneologist Ning? It’s Secretary Watts—”

Leera tried to keep a straight face as she made a tiny gesture at the etching. “I think you, uh, have to call her again.”

Watts flushed. “Hush, girl!” She cleared her throat loftily. Then cleared it again. She pressed her lit palm to the etching. “Secretary Watts here requesting—”

“WHAT!”

“Your Brilliance, we need to discuss—”

“Oh for the sake of the ancients, get in and stop sniveling.” The doors began to open before Ning even finished speaking.

Watts waved briskly at them to enter first. “Get in! Shoo! And keep quiet.” She and the soldiers followed on their heels.

Senior Arcaneologist Lien Ning was once again floating amongst her books in the vast chamber, enveloped in silence. “What is it now, Watts?”

“An urgent matter, Senior Arcaneologist Ning.”

The trio exchanged looks. She must know something that would get them into serious trouble.

The chair floated down, revealing the grotesquely malformed person sitting in it. Ning’s black eyes flicked to the trio before settling on Watts. “You dare waste my time again with nonsense.” The voice was arcanely projected, for Ning’s curled-back lips did not move.

Watts’ knife-thin brows came together as she made a face that Augum thought looked like feigned hurt. “I do believe I have uncovered a startling truth, Senior Arcaneologist Ning. I caught these three supposed necrophytes snooping. I questioned them on the matter and they told me they belonged to a Commander Sanyika Shaeek, who is supposedly in the field. Naturally, as a good and loyal citizen of the Legion, I took it upon myself to make inquiries. I wrote the Blackhaven Constabulary and they insisted there was no such active duty commander.”

“Indeed,” Senior Arcaneologist Ning said. “How peculiar, because as it so happens, I believe Secretary Klines received a parcel from Commander Sanyika Shaeek just this afternoon.”

Watts’ mouth fell open. “She … she did?”

“I have summoned her. She will be here momentarily.”

“Even so, I … I am certain these three here are
the
three we’re all looking for—Augum Stone, Bridget Burns, and Leera Jones. They are merely in disguise.”

The trio froze. Augum thought his chest would explode.

“I confess the image of the poster is not
that
close,” Watts prattled on, “but even their fake names! I dare say there is no
way
they could be necrophytes.” When Ning merely floated there, unimpressed, Watts blurted, “and I can prove it! Only an ordained necrophyte can possibly cast necromancy spells.”

There was a sigh from the floating chair. “I believe Feign Death is one of the first spells taught, am I not correct?”

“Yes, but they can’t possibly—”

“Miss Leigh Sparrows, please demonstrate a proper casting of the spell.”

Leera swallowed.

“Go ahead, do not be nervous, child.”

Leera lay on the ground and played dead. Augum could barely breathe. As expected, nothing happened. Suddenly, just as Secretary Watts’ stupid face exploded with a triumphant grin, Leera’s own face began to decompose. It was so real and frightful Augum had to avert his eyes.

Watts’ forehead shone with sweat. “But … but I was certain—”

Leera was soon up on her feet, confused. She mouthed at Augum, “Did it work—?”

He replied with the slightest of nods.

The doors silently opened and in clacked the tiny beetle-like Secretary Klines, carrying a parchment-wrapped parcel stamped with a burning sword and the written words
From CSS
.

“Ah, just the three I was looking for,” she said, handing the parcel over to Bridget. “This is for you, from Commander Sanyika Shaeek.”

“Impossible!” Watts said in her snippy voice. “Which company does he belong to?”

Klines glanced questioningly at Ning. “I am not at liberty to say.”

“What do you mean? I knew it! This is all a sham—”

“—because it’s a shadow company,” Klines blurted.

“A what now?”

“A shadow company. That means it’s a secret company under the direct command of Lord Sparkstone. Those who inquire about the company are to be reported and questioned.”

Watts nervously glanced at the Legion guards, who looked at each other.

“I … I did not realize—but I was so sure these were the three villainous traitors—”

Klines folded her hands before her. “This is the second time you have accused someone of being Augum Stone, is that not correct?”

Watts was stammering now. “That was a simple and unfortunate misunder—”

“A misunderstanding. You declared the boy to be Augum Stone and paraded him about the library, then to the constabulary. Except when they finally took him to the Lord of the Legion himself, it turned out to be some poor farm boy. The story even made the Herald. An embarrassment to the institution.”

“I … I …”

“You were ‘absolutely certain’ then too, were you not? Those were your exact words, is that not correct?”

Watts’ mouth opened and closed like a fish.

“I am afraid Lord Sparkstone will have to be informed immediately. He will be told exactly who is responsible, and I am sure his Lordship will not be as amused a second time.”

Watts went beet red. “That … that surely will not be necessary, Secretary Klines. Senior Arcaneologist Ning, have mercy, I see no reason to escalate a minor blunder—”

Augum enjoyed watching her squirm, and by the look on Leera’s face, so did she.

“Please, I’ll do anything.”

Senor Arcaneologist Ning stared from her chair. Watts shriveled under her expressionless gaze.

Klines took a step forward. “Very few souls have been entrusted with the information of the existence of shadow companies. Do you believe yourself worthy of this information?”

Watts’ thin brows bounced around as she struggled with the question. “N-no, I do not, I suppose.”

“Then, if we never hear an inquiry from you or these guards—I’m sorry, what were your names again?”

“Private Ribbons, m’lady,” stammered one in a commoner accent, snapping to attention. “Private Matthews, m’lady,” squeaked the other.

“As I was saying, if we never hear of an inquiry about shadow companies from any of the three of you, I do not see why a questioning would be necessary. It seems this was indeed but a minor misunderstanding.”

Watts and the two guards visibly relaxed.

Klines nodded at the guards. “You are dismissed.” They snapped to attention before hurrying out of the hall.

Ning’s chair floated closer. “If so much as a sneeze of this reaches the Herald and embarrasses this institution once again—”

“It w-won’t, Your Brilliance!”

Ning glared with her black gaze. “I know about the overcharging as well.”

“I … I …”

“Do you deny charging four silvers a head to out-of-towners when the entry fee is only one?”

Watts gave a toady swallow and shook her head.

“I am placing you on administrative leave. Consider yourself lucky not to be dismissed and put to the question.”

Watts curtsied awkwardly. “Very fair, Your Brilliance.”

“But I do have a task for you to complete in your absence.”

“A task?”

“A penance for your repeated indiscretions. You are to take a horse and deliver a message to the senior arcaneologist at the library in the city of Ironfeather.”

“But that’s … that’s so far! It’ll take me a month to—”

“Indeed. It is a trusted mission. And you have much trust to earn back, I dare say. See me in one hour and I shall give you the message. You will depart immediately. Am I understood?”

“Yes, of course, Senior Arcaneologist Ning. I shall not fail.”

“And Secretary Watts—I wouldn’t mention the shadow companies to anyone if I were you, not if you do not want to be made example of.”

“Y-yes, Your Brilliance.”

“You are dismissed.”

“Thank you, Senior Arcaneologist Ning.” Watts turned on her heel and quickly waddled through the open doors.

Explanations

Secretary Klines waved at the doors. Once they closed, she expelled a long breath. “We’re lucky she’s as daft as she is naive.”

“There’s no such thing as a shadow company, is there?” Augum asked.

Klines waved the matter aside. “Utter fiction. Came up with it on the fly. Wish the story was stronger, but there was little time.”

“How did you know about our fake commander?”

She calmly strode over. “Do not look so surprised. Senior Arcaneologist Ning is one of the few warlocks able to cast a rare off-the-books spell known as Telepathy. She gave me all the details of the accusations as she heard them. I came as quick as I could, labeling the box as I walked.”

“Pardon me, Senior Arcaneologist Ning,” Bridget said, “but how did you make Leera appear undead like that?”

“Genius has its privileges,” Ning replied. “But to answer your question, it was mere illusion.” She floated before Bridget. “The fear is gone from your eyes. You have conquered the cliff, I see.”

“I … I did, Senior Arcaneologist Ning.”

Her chair swiveled to Augum then Leera, but only a grunt was emitted. “You three have found what you were looking for, I presume? Good,” she said before they could reply to the contrary, “then we shan’t have any more trouble, shall we? I expect a quiet and hasty departure. You will, seeing as it will be unnecessary, not attend the tournament, of course. A most pointless and vain idea in the first place, entering a tournament to show one’s arcane prowess …”

Augum opened his mouth to say that that wasn’t why he had entered the tournament at all, and how they could use their help in the coming attempt to steal the divining rod, but instead found himself staring at the bottom of the chair as it floated up and away.

“Give Anna Stone my regards,” Ning’s voice rang out. “Dismissed.”

Klines followed them out of the chamber.

“Uh, Secretary Klines,” Augum began as she escorted them along in the hall, “if we get in a bit of trouble tomorrow—”

“—you won’t,” Klines said, coming to a halt, her giant spectacled eyes focusing on him. “We have taken great risks on your behalf. Do not disappoint us with careless traipsing. You will leave quietly, the sooner the better. Tonight would be best, but if you stay until morning, make sure it is in your quarters, and depart first thing.”

“Right …”

She strode into the portal room. “Be sure not to show anyone that package. It was
extremely
difficult to acquire. I even had to disenchant the powerful Object Track incantation placed upon it. They should not notice it missing until you are gone, by which time it will of course be too late to do anything.” She summoned a portal. “In you go, straight to your room, no dawdling. Goodbye and good luck.”

They meekly went through the portal. As with Ning, Klines’ brisk manner heavily discouraged rebuttal.

“Great, now what are we going to do?” Leera said as they traipsed along the lush carpet in the dimly-lit hall. “If we go through with it tomorrow, how are we going to get away safely without Klines’ and Ning’s help? Maybe we should just leave now—”

“No,” Augum replied. “We stay. We just need a good plan, that’s all.” A
really
good plan.

“We’ll have to give this serious thought,” Bridget said. “Though I can’t help but think we should have told them of our intentions.”

“What, so they could call us fools and stop us?” Leera said. “No thank you.”

They entered their room, nearly tripping over a giant pile of clothes.

Leera picked up a frilly dress. “You’ve got to be kidding me. These are all clothes those two stupid stowaways bought!”

“Never mind all this right now, we’ll talk to them later.” Bridget placed the parcel on the desk and unwrapped it, revealing a fine pine box intricately carved with the burning sword of the Legion, along with the words,
Duty unto death
. The number
005
was engraved into one of the corners. She opened the lid and they gasped in wonder. Fitted snugly into the wood were ten steel rings and a small steel orb. All were uniquely patterned with black swirls.