Burden's Edge (Fury of a Rising Dragon Book 1) Read online

  The block of stone glowed and slowly grinded forward.

  “First Arcaner quest!” Bridget exclaimed in surprise. “That’s what that translates to, isn’t it?”

  Augum nodded. “But it really means trial.” Then he gave her a mysterious Just wait for it smile. The ancient block popped out into thin air and moved aside, where it hovered, revealing a cavity filled with runes painted in precise brush strokes of silver.

  “Ooh,” the group cooed.

  “But how did you stumble across this?” Leera asked.

  “ ‘Omnio incipus equa liberatus corsisi mei,’ ” Augum said reverently. “All begin equal, but only the curious thrive.” It was the Antioc Library motto, which he had learned in the war, and it had motivated him and the girls to explore and discover secrets lost to time. “I put all the clues together from the books. This is the first Arcaner quest. You need to complete it to become a true Arcaner squire. And then it leads to the second quest. There’s more to it, of course, but it’s a start.”

  Brandon stuck his head closer to the cavity. “So what do the runes say?”

  “Actually, I haven’t been able to figure that out yet. Was hoping to get everyone’s help.”

  “Oh, come on, I’m so not in the mood to study right now,” Brandon said, waving dismissively at the block. “I’m starving. Let’s do it later.”

  “It is exciting, Aug,” Leera added, “but if I don’t eat I’m liable to become hangry.”

  Augum raised a brow. “Hangry?”

  Leera smacked her hands together. “Combine hungry and angry.”

  “Ah. So just usual you.”

  “Ha ha, you’re hilarious.”

  “See, that’s how we should banter,” Brandon said to Bridget, who kept her back turned to him. In point of fact, she had refused to even acknowledge his existence since the Shield Rune tournament.

  “Anyway, fine, let’s eat,” Augum said tactfully. “But I’m coming back tomorrow on my study day. Whoever wants to join me is welcome.”

  “And what, track down old puzzles that don’t mean anything anymore?” Brandon said, seemingly oblivious to Bridget. “No thanks.”

  Bridget abruptly whirled on him, but instead of saying anything, she merely shook her head and closed her eyes.

  Brandon stepped down into the first row of cracked stone bleachers. He put down his tray and patted the seat beside him. “Come on, Mrs. Nag, let’s hash it out like we always do.”

  Bridget gnashed her teeth. She stepped onto the spot he had patted, narrowly missing his hand, then stepped again … and kept going all the way down to the sandy center of the arena. She loudly dumped her tray onto the dragon desk, pulled up a squeaky old wooden chair, and plopped into it, her back turned to them.

  Brandon gave everyone a lost look.

  “You still have no clue?” Augum said, keeping his voice low so Bridget didn’t hear.

  The corners of Brandon’s mouth slanted downward. “I thought Leera said I was only in trouble for ‘fraternizing with the enemy.’ ”

  Leera placed her hands on her hips. “And I thought I was being perfectly clear about that.”

  “What, talking to them? So I should just ignore the Southguards forever?”

  “Okay, I’ll be the one to spell it out for you. Ka. Tri. Na.”

  Brandon’s face went slack. He glanced at Bridget sitting alone in the center, then back to Leera, then back to Bridget. “Oh. Her.”

  “Yeah, her.” Leera gave him an expectant look.

  Brandon smiled sleazily. “I get it. She’s jealous.”

  Leera hooked her hands on top of her head and lowered her chin. “You’re … you’re kidding, right?”

  Brandon threw up his arms. “Fine. Fine! I’ll go talk to her, all right? But I didn’t do nothing.” He picked up his tray of food and stomped down to Bridget, muttering how he couldn’t understand why everything was such a big deal.

  “He doesn’t get it,” Leera said, shaking her head. “The fool simply doesn’t get it …”

  “ ‘Woe to the man who dishonors his woman in public so,’ ” Laudine whispered.

  “And by the way,” Augum added, “I forgot to tell you, but Eric’s father also proposed a match for Brandon. You need not guess who the old boar had in mind.”

  Leera let her arms flop back to her sides. “Excuse me?”

  “Yeah, just found out in that rune tournament while facing the Southguards. Could explain Brandon’s sudden attraction to Katrina.”

  “Only a small part. But I have a feeling there’s more to it than that.” But what she meant by that she did not say.

  They sat down to eat and tried not to look at the center of the arena, where a rather tense low-voiced argument had broken out between the couple.

  Augum waved a piece of half-eaten bread around. “One of us might have to go down there soon to save a life.”

  “She’ll murder him simply with that cold look she’s giving him,” Leera said, squinting. “At least, I think that’s what’s happening. Maybe I’m just reading into the situation.”

  Augum glanced over. “Nope, that’s exactly what’s happening.”

  Laudine searched Leera’s eyes. “Do you need spectacles or something?”

  “Course not,” Leera snapped. “Anyway, on the way here you said you had some news of your own, Laud.”

  “I do! It’s on the subject of assassins, which I promised I’d research.” Laudine stabbed her roasted chicken breast with her two-pronged fork and left it there as she animatedly used her hands to illustrate her words. “There’s loads of literature on assassins, way more than I could go through just borrowing books from the library. Still, I snagged a few key books and a whole pile of those herald clippings I told you about. You know, the ones on crime? I ended up spending almost all of Culture Studies going through them—and yes, I may have gotten into a wee bit of trouble for muttering to myself a smidge too loudly—”

  “The point, Laud,” Leera said. “Get to it, please.”

  “Right. So, in one of those clippings, I stumbled across a mention of an assassin couple known as Nivella and Deyon.”

  “But her name was Nia,” Augum said.

  Laudine held up a finger. “I know. Here’s the thing. They’re a trio of associates. And I know that because the three of them were found guilty of a triple murder in absentia. Meaning there was enough evidence to convict them without their presence at the trial. But that’s beside the point. You get one guess what the third name was.”

  “Riga,” Augum whispered. The third assassin.

  Laudine gave him a thumbs-up while ingesting half a potato and then promptly covering her mouth.

  “So Nia was her lover’s pet name for her,” Leera said.

  “Then the assassin that got away is named Deyon,” Augum added, vividly recalling rage-filled russet eyes flecked with gold.

  “That’s not all. I stumbled across something else.” Laudine quickly swallowed her food, closed her eyes, and pressed a hand to her forehead. “ ‘Sleep, oh child, forever sleep, for you hear the nightly creep, three quick and curved, three ought never to be heard, nor felt nor uttered nor ever seen, share they bond of love and death, yearn they a whisper blade scream, whilst watching your last … mortal … breath.’ ” She flashed a proud, dimpled smile. “I memorized it because it’s so creepy.”

  “No surprise there,” Leera muttered. “Certainly a spooky poem though.”

  “Ran across it in one of those older heralds.”

  “And you think the poem refers to the assassins?” Augum asked.

  “I do. My Drama studies—and where I found the poem—tell me there’s likely a hidden meaning. The word ‘three,’ for example. For three assassins. But then the poem uses a few other notable, powerful words like ‘love,’ ‘death,’ and ‘quick and curved,’ which alludes to the curved daggers. The words ‘watching your last mortal breath’ may allude to poison. Now, if we want to start parsing the clues, we can analyze the words ‘whisper
blade’ and ‘scream,’ but they’re too vague to conclusively—”

  “All right, Laud,” Leera said. “We all know how much you love that Drama class. Spare us the theory and tell us what the poem has to do with anything.”

  “I have a theory on what it has to do with, but take a look for yourself first. I brought the Herald with me.” She kicked over her satchel, which was decorated with glued remnants of what looked like lace from a costume, a large drawing of a quill and ink bottle, and innumerable quotes.

  Leera opened it and withdrew a weathered, rolled-up parchment.

  Laudine nodded. “It’s on the back, at the bottom, but note the front page headline along the way.”

  Leera unrolled the crinkled parchment. “The poem was in a Blackhaven Herald?”

  “About ten years ago.”

  “ ‘One of the Last Living Arcaners Found Dead in his Home.’ ”

  “That’s the headline. Now check the back bottom.”

  Leera flipped it over and shared it with Augum. Sure enough, the poem was there, tucked away in a corner.

  Leera shook her head. “I don’t get it.”

  Laudine leaned in, whispering, “It’s an advertisement.”

  “Ooh,” Leera and Augum intoned.

  Laudine kicked her satchel again. “Grab the old leather book that’s in there. Silk bookmark.”

  Leera exchanged the parchment for an old book with a crinkled brown leather cover and opened it to a marked spot. “What am I looking for here?”

  “The subheading titled, ‘Assassin Guilds.’ ”

  Leera focused on the tiny handwriting. “ ‘Most assassins belong to secret guilds. Each of the seven kingdoms has at least one guild. Some guilds go back hundreds of years. Some are even older. Assassins tend to use poison and stealth.’ ” She looked up and made a gross face. “I think I became dumber simply by reading that.”

  “That’s because it’s poorly written,” Laudine said, waving around her fork. “Whole book’s like that. Annoying, right? Keep reading. The good part’s next.”

  Leera haltingly read on. “ ‘Assassin services are almost always paid for ahead of time. Good assassins are hired by powerful or wealthy interests. That is because they are very expensive. But sometimes they advertise their services. When they do, it is usually in the form of a poem.’ ”

  Laudine raised one eyebrow, impressed. “And guess what those three assassins were convicted for in absentia?”

  Leera flipped the parchment over again and held it up. “The murder of the old Arcaner?”

  “Precisely!”

  “You’d make a fine Inquisitor,” Leera mumbled, glancing over the parchment.

  “Well done, Laud,” Augum said, though he wasn’t sure he had learned much of anything, other than the name of the assassin who had gotten away. That, and—

  “Why did they murder an Arcaner?” he pressed.

  “Nobody knows for sure, but they speculated it had something to do with money—a lot of it. The Herald said the Arcaner was highly corrupt. Still, those three assassins were fingered because of a witness and because they left behind a curved dagger that was traced back to them. The authorities hired an expert arcaneologist to attest to it. Interestingly, that arcaneologist was super cagey about it—and, as it turns out, for good reason, because he later turned up dead. And they never found the assassins, of course. All they had were three names. Didn’t say anything else, either. Not which guild they were from, nothing. Odd, eh?”

  “Odd,” he echoed.

  Laudine shrugged. “Anyway, I’ll keep researching, see if anything turns up. I didn’t find that poem in any recent heralds. Maybe there’s an assassin guild in town we don’t know about. Who knows? You did make a lot of enemies in the war, after all.”

  “Like the Von Edgeworths,” Augum muttered.

  “Exactly.”

  “Bridget mentioned Jez is going to see an arcaneologist with the clues,” Laudine said. “Maybe she’ll fill in the blanks for us.”

  “That would help,” Augum said, pushing cold roasted asparagus around on his wooden plate with his fork. It was a lot of information to parse, and he was still feeling foggy from a poor night’s sleep and whatever they had given him to ease the pain.

  They pondered as they ate, until Bridget’s voice reached them.

  “Then you’re as daft as she is clever—!”

  An awkward silence descended upon the room. Brandon and Bridget were standing on opposite sides of the dragon desk, glaring at each other. But then the strangest thing happened. A knock came at the ancient black oak door. And before anyone could answer, it squealed open.

  Revealing Katrina Southguard.

  “Oh, hi, everyone,” she said, stepping inside. She frowned as she glanced beyond them to Bridget and Brandon squaring off, both with slack looks of surprise on their faces. “This a bad time? Some sort of practice duel happening?”

  “How’d you find us?” Leera asked.

  Katrina thumbed back at the door. “I asked students where you’d gone. They pointed way down the hall. Anyway, I came and I heard shouting.”

  “Well, that’s not suspicious at all,” Leera sniped.

  “Don’t be paranoid. I’m just here to talk to Brandon.” She pressed on her spectacles, which did not move one iota, and wiggled her fingers at Brandon while beaming at him. Looking at the lenses, Augum was not entirely sure they did anything at all.

  “You’re here to see Brandon? Our Brandon?” Leera glanced disbelievingly between their group and then to Brandon and Bridget.

  Brandon scornfully glanced at Bridget before snapping up his tray and marching his way up the stone bleachers while everyone—excluding Katrina—gaped.

  “What is this, some awful 1st degree play?” Laudine asked, glancing between Brandon and Katrina. “What do you need to see him for?”

  “I’ve decided to be his proata mentora.”

  Leera choked. “You what?”

  “You heard me. He’s the worst student in class. We are supposed to spend ten percent of our time doing community service or tutoring those less fortunate than us. I’ve decided to help Brandon.”

  The news was so stunning that nobody could utter a word. Proata mentora was something one had to do for credit at the academy. The trio usually spent part of their study days helping people in Arinthia. They also spent time after classes mentoring younger students who were struggling or did not have mentors. It was meant to foster a sense of community between Ordinaries and warlocks as well as between lesser and higher degrees.

  “Brandon has a mentor,” Leera argued.

  “Forgive me, Leera, but that’s not what I hear,” Katrina said.

  Brandon strode up to them. “Hear about what? Hi, Katrina.” He flashed her a brittle smile that hid a wince of pain.

  “She wants to be your proata mentora,” Augum said flatly. “And she seems to think you don’t have a mentor.”

  “She’s, uh, right. Fatso quit the other day.”

  “When were you going to tell us?” Augum asked. Fatso was what he called his mentor … because he was fat. Brandon had a thing for calling people names. But now, after Cry had scolded him for not speaking up about it, Augum found it more than irritating. In fact, he found it downright shameful. Almost as shameful as his so-called best friend was acting this moment. Or for that matter, almost as shameful as his own willingness to look the other way when it came to Brandon’s antics.

  “You had other concerns,” Brandon said. “And besides, I told Bridget.”

  “It seems that’s not the only person you told,” Leera said.

  “And I’m flattered, Katrina,” Brandon said. “Thank you. I definitely need the help. Bridget’s been whipping me like a mule and treating me like I’m a moron.”

  Augum scratched his temple. “What … what are you doing?” He thumbed to the center of the arena where Bridget sat with her head on the desk, shoulders twitching as she silently wept. “Bridget’s in distress.”

&n
bsp; Brandon cleared his throat lightly. “Yeah, except Her Humorless Highness called me stupid. Repeatedly. Well, daft, but it’s the same thing. And she hasn’t been very supportive lately. She barely even—” He grabbed at his own arm. “—puts a hand on me in public, as if I’m diseased! Such a … such a priss! I mean … I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about it!”

  “I’m sorry, I should go,” Katrina said tactfully.

  “Yeah, you really should,” Leera said while Augum and Laudine nodded along.

  Katrina looked like she was going to say something nasty to Leera. Instead, she turned to leave, but did it slow enough for Brandon to blurt, “And I’m coming with you—”

  “No, you should stay,” she said.

  “What? Oh.”

  Augum glanced between the two of them, and he did not like the feeling he was getting. Leera gave him a Sort it out look and then stumped off down the arena steps to Bridget.

  “Uh, forgive the intrusion,” Katrina said. “We can talk another time, Brandon.” And she departed, closing the door behind her.

  Augum opened his hands. “What’s gotten into you?” Brandon had always been loose and somewhat crazy, but this was abnormal behavior even for him.

  Brandon clumsily smoothed his bandana around his head with one hand, face tight with pain as he tried not to wince. “Nothing. Why?”

  “Nothing? Nothing? You didn’t even tell me your mentor quit on you!”

  “Just like you didn’t tell me you weren’t backing a noble family! Just like you didn’t tell me you were going to declare to become an Arcaner!”

  “Yeah, but I did tell you in the end.”

  “You somehow deigned to find the time.”

  “Well, it just so happens that a lot’s been happening of late!”

  “Uh-huh, like Fatso just happened to walk out on me because I’m an awful student.”

  There was a moment of silence during which Laudine hesitantly glanced between the two of them. “Maybe I should leave you two—”

  “Could you please stop calling him that?” Augum interrupted, ignoring her. “And the same for Cry. It’s immature and petty.”