Arcane (The Arinthian Line Book 1) (22 page)

Finally, the entranceway cleared, the trio collapsed at the foot of the new rock pile, completely spent, heads splitting from the arcane effort—just in time too, for a shadow came between them and the sun.

“I see you have accomplished the task.”

Augum wondered if that was surprise or disappointment in Mrs. Stone’s voice.

“Lunch is ready.” She walked off.

They were too exhausted to reply. Augum stood up, helping Leera.

Leera winced. “Feet … refusing … to budge …”

He and Bridget each took a hand and hoisted her to her feet. She pretended to fall back, tongue rolling out in defeat.

The trio eventually lumbered through the now gaping hole in the castle and staggered up the stairs to lunch.

Repair

Lunch consisted of leftover chicken, stale journey bread and boiled beans. Mrs. Stone chewed the bread and hacked at the chicken, oblivious to the trio mutely prodding their food. For Augum, every bite brought a new round of throbbing in his brain. Thankfully the side effects were subsiding, though he was not sure he could do another round of casting today.

“This afternoon you shall be learning the Repair spell,” Mrs. Stone said once they had consumed everything but the beans. “Repair is verbal and a little more complex.” She swept the room with her eyes. “The spirits know how much there is to fix around here.”

Augum remembered her using the spell on a mug he had broken back in her cave. He hoped it was not as difficult as Telekinesis.

Mrs. Stone seemed to be waiting for some kind of response, yet the trio only stared at their plates.

“Mmm, yes, it is difficult, is it not? That is the way of it; the path you have chosen. I advise you to acclimatize yourselves to the pain, the nausea, the exhaustion. In order to advance in your studies you must learn the art of suffering. That is how you grow and develop fortitude. You must harden yourselves as it only gets more difficult.”

She paused and leaned back in the queen’s chair, letting the silence drive home the point, the frown lines on her face creasing sharply. “I shall allow one hour of rest this one time. Then I will expect you in the foyer where we will continue your training. You are excused.”

“Yes, Mrs. Stone,” the trio said without enthusiasm. They trudged off.

“I’m exhausted,” Augum said in the dim hallway, almost tripping over a large tear in the faded carpet.

Leera managed a groan. “That food was so bland … at least compared to when Mrs. Stone teleported some in.”

“I think it’s part of the experience,” Bridget said.

Leera made a face at her but said nothing.

They stopped before the girls’ room.

“Your room the same as mine?” Augum asked.

“You tell us.” Leera opened the door, revealing a room that was a mirror image of his own. “We share the bed.”

Augum stepped inside. “Yup, it’s the same.”

Leera plopped down on the ironwood canopy bedstead curtained in the same sheer netting. “Can’t wait to explore the rest of the castle,” she said, glancing about as if hoping to find a secret door.

Bridget slumped onto the bed beside her. “Maybe tonight …”

Augum thought this would be a good time to talk about what he and Mrs. Stone discussed the day before. He paced to the windows, staring beyond the snow-covered Ravenwood. An angry bank of clouds approached, threatening to snuff the sunshine.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you two about my father.” He turned back to the girls and leaned against the windowsill. “Remember his horse?”

“Yeah, we remember,” Bridget said.

“Mrs. Stone thinks he’s practicing necromancy.”

The girls exchanged looks.

Bridget’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Come to think of it, remember the horses the Red Guard rode?”

Leera stood and began pacing. “Hmm. Mrs. Stone defeated a necromancer once …”

“That’s right—Narsus,” Augum said. “There’s more. He … he murdered my mother.”

After seeing the look on their faces, he turned back to the window. Even though he did not know his mother, he found it hard to talk about her. “He murdered her when she said she was leaving him …” He went on to recount much of what Mrs. Stone said about his mother and father. “… and I think I was only born because he thought it would force Mrs. Stone to give my father the scion,” he concluded.

For once, the girls were at a loss for words.

“Think a storm’s coming,” he said after a while.

Bridget placed a delicate hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay, Augum?”

He shrugged. “I never knew my parents anyway. Besides, the memorial ceremony helped a lot.”

“Helped us too,” Leera said. “I’m sorry about your mother …”

He forced a smile.

Bridget drew her robe close, nodding at the angry bank of clouds. “Ominous.”

“Yeah, hope we don’t have to work outside.” Leera fell back on the bed. Suddenly she sat up. “Wait, why would he
want
to become a necromancer? Why would anyone?”

“Mrs. Stone told me it’s a fascination with fear, death and power.”

Leera smirked. “Wonder how he felt when she snuffed Narsus …”

Augum grabbed the windowsill, which was as deep as the castle walls, and climbed on top.

“What are you doing?” Bridget asked.

“Resting my sore legs. Besides, I love watching storms.” At the Penderson farm, a storm meant he could spend quiet time in the barn with Meli. In Willowbrook, he would curl up beside the fire with a book and listen to rain pound the thatch and tap on the windows. Even after one nearly killed him, that love of storms had not diminished.

“Rest … good idea.” Bridget lay down beside Leera and the girls stole a quick nap.

Head leaning against the window, he watched the storm’s steady approach for the rest of that peaceful hour, until Mrs. Stone walked by in the corridor.

“Time to go,” he said.

They gathered themselves and descended to the foyer, dutifully lining up before her.

Mrs. Stone surveyed them a moment before speaking. “Following this lesson, I was planning on assigning you the task of repairing the entire entranceway, to be completed by evening.”

There was a better chance of them all learning how to fly without wings than repairing that entranceway in this weather, Augum thought.

“But as you may have noticed, there is a storm heading our way. Therefore, I have decided to assist you.”

The trio breathed a sigh of relief.

“Since we do not have much time, I will skip some of the details, but I expect you to study the spell from the book this evening when I am gone. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Mrs. Stone,” they chorused.

Augum wondered where she was going but knew better than to ask.

“The Repair spell is a bit more complicated,” Mrs. Stone began, clasping her hands behind her back, “because it requires immense and unbroken concentration.” She gazed at each of them in turn, as if to confirm they were paying attention.

“The spell will not work on living things, arcane objects, or anything incinerated. In the beginning, you will be unable to repair anything more complex than a teacup, or perhaps a plank of wood. However, I daresay you shall find no shortage of things to practice on in this castle. Now, does anyone know the arcane word for this spell?”

They gave her a blank look.

Mrs. Stone’s brows sharpened. “The word is ‘apreyo’. Say it with me.”

“APREEO.”

She made them repeat it a few more times until their pronunciation was perfect.

“Now, the gesture is important so pay careful attention—both of your hands must pass over the object just so,” and she made her hands rigidly flat, guiding them over something imaginary, “and they must continue to pass over the object until the repair is complete, otherwise it will fail. As you concentrate on the repair at hand, see the cracks disappear in your mind. See two halves become one. Allow me to demonstrate.”

She placed her hands over a fallen stone globe that once rested at the end of the marble staircase, and in a clear voice that echoed around the foyer, said, “Apreyo.”
It immediately began to reform. Even little pieces from the other end of the foyer slid along the floor to rejoin it. The sphere then lifted off the ground and secured itself back onto the banister. Lastly, the cracks contracted and disappeared.

“Amazing,” Leera whispered, walking over to the globe. “But Mrs. Stone—there’s a tiny piece missing here.”

“That happens when the piece is stuck or not in range of the spell, which is approximately twenty paces.” She padded over to another broken globe. “All right, let us see you practice on this sphere. One at a time now.”

And so they began, Mrs. Stone instructing them on some of the many subtleties of the spell and the importance of concentration, especially with larger objects. On more than one occasion, they had to jump out of the way as the sphere crashed back to the floor, smashing anew. The learning was slow as they were still recovering from the morning’s efforts. Thus, it came as no surprise that by the end of a grueling hour’s work, not one of them had successfully repaired it.

Mrs. Stone’s lips pursed as she once again demonstrated a proper repair on the globe, before herding them to the castle entranceway they had cleared earlier.

Leera groaned as she stared at the enormous piles of iron, wood and stone. Beyond, the sky quickly darkened. A biting wind swirled snow in miniature tornadoes.

Mrs. Stone raised her chin expectantly. “You may begin.”

The trio tried to get the stones to reform into the entranceway while the wind kept increasing and the cold deepened. By the time the wind threatened to steal planks from the pile, not one of them had managed to get anything to reform with the five-foot thick wall.

“This is a vital lesson in concentration and belief!” Mrs. Stone’s robe flapped in the wind, ponytail lashing like a snake. “Without absolute conviction and concentration, you will fail! One day, you may have to perform such a spell in the din of battle, with plenty to distract you. Cold, hunger, wind, pain, attack—these are all things that you must learn to ignore as you focus. Even a momentary loss of concentration can result in spell failure!”

Augum recalled using Telekinesis at Hangman’s Rock and how, despite a brutal gale, he had to still his mind in order to find the rope. Staggering for balance, he tried to apply that lesson here. It was futile though—he was simply too tired, the spell too new.

Snow began blowing sideways, forcing them to avert their faces and draw their hoods. Augum wanted to keep going, to show Mrs. Stone they were capable, but his legs wanted to buckle; and now, glancing at the oncoming storm, he knew they had run out of time.

“Oh for mercy’s sake—” Mrs. Stone marched over to the rock pile and, facing the wind, spread her hands. “APREYO!”

The rocks immediately began rolling, bouncing and vaulting back into the entranceway. The trio had to jump aside to avoid being bowled over. They watched in helplessness as the hole in the castle rapidly reformed into massive arched double doors. The rock pile consumed, Mrs. Stone strode over to the wood and iron piles and repeated the process, tackling both at once. Planks, splinters, hinges and nails flew back into the doorway, reforming like a floating puzzle. Her concentration was perfect, never wavering from the task. Upon completing the repair, she flicked her wrist at one of the doors. It flew open and she marched inside, leaving them lying in the snow, gaping.

Finally, they picked themselves up and shambled in, working together to close the heavy door against the gale. It clanged shut, locking with an ancient iron bolt that Augum slid in place. They exchanged looks. Nobody wanted to face what was surely going to be a very stern lecture. Steeling himself, Augum was the first to step into the dark warmth of the foyer.

As expected, Mrs. Stone stood waiting, hands behind her back, brows furrowed. Only after they lined up before her, barely able to see in the dim light, did she flick her wrist. Out popped the floating lightning sphere.

“Shyneo,” everyone said, not advanced enough to do the spell wordlessly. Their hands barely lit up, glowing weakly. Augum’s flickered and extinguished almost immediately. He did not bother relighting it.

Mrs. Stone’s face was hard as steel. “How eager you three are to surrender. I am disappointed. I daresay I expected greater … fortitude.”

The trio only stared at their feet as Leera’s light flickered out. A moment later, so did Bridget’s, leaving only the cold sheen from Mrs. Stone’s orb. She merely watched them.

Augum felt the prickle of shame; the silence was worse than the lecture.

“I am leaving the castle for the evening,” she finally said. “I expect you to make up for your lack of tenacity by working extra hard. You are to read up on the details of the Repair spell then spend at least two hours practicing it. Am I making myself perfectly clear?”

“Yes, Mrs. Stone.”

She extinguished her light and marched through the foyer doors, arcanely slamming them behind her. The noise made them flinch. A moment later, one of the newly reformed outer doors opened and closed with a dull thud that reverberated through the castle.

When the echoes died out, all three collapsed in the near total darkness.

“I’m sorry, I should have tried harder,” Augum said, staring up at the dim outline of the ceiling.

Bridget flopped to her side. “Me too …”

Leera gasped like an old dying woman. “Not me, I was done for …”

The wind roared distantly, muffled by thick walls. Suddenly Augum did not feel much like exploring.

Bridget sat up. “Shall we make a fire and study?”

Leera exhaled a tedious breath. “Might as well …”

Encounter

The girl’s fireplace was out of wood so the trio scrounged some from the other rooms. When it burned bright, Bridget brought out the ornate tome from under the bed and the three of them read up on the Repair spell, discussing its finer points. They then read the entire section titled
Concentration: Beginning Basics
, as well as
Introduction to Runes and Runewords
, as per Mrs. Stone’s suppertime suggestion. After two solid hours of study and discussion, they felt they were ready to start practicing.