Clash (The Arinthian Line Book 4) Read Free Page B

him flush with shame. What had gotten into him? He slumped on the edge of the platform and began putting on his turnshoes. “I guess I’m just worried—I’m worried for Nana, I’m worried we’ll get everyone around us killed, I’m worried about you and Bridget, and I’m—” He stopped short of voicing his greatest recent fear—Cron. The aging thing. How will it affect them?
    She placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “And you worry too much, especially recently. You only just turned fifteen, not even a man yet.”
    “Not even a man yet. Exactly . Thanks for reminding me.” He shrugged her hand away, immediately regretting it.
    “Aug, really, you can be so … ugh.” She roughly put on her turnshoes and snatched the basket, leaning into the orb. “Ready, Mrs. Stone.”
    Augum paced over and rested his palm beside hers on the orb. He tried giving her an apologetic look but she would not meet his gaze. A moment later, he felt his body yank.

Mr. Harvus
    Back at the Okeke home in Milham, Augum took a seat by the fire to dry his clothes and calm his stomach. Teleporting felt like being stretched on a torture rack—he always feared he would pop into existence torn limb from limb.
    “How did it go?” Mr. Goss absently asked from the table, pushing round spectacles up his nose.
    Leera shrugged. “Tedious,” and slumped on the floor beside Augum, still refusing to meet his gaze.
    “Has Mrs. Stone told you about Dramask?” Mr. Goss pressed.
    “Yes, it’s awful, isn’t it?” While she and Mr. Goss bantered about the news, Augum glanced through the window. The snow had almost completely melted away. He could hear the trickle of water, the chirp of birds, and the distant singing of rowdy miners having a drink. The sun was only an hour or so from setting, telling him wherever the Trainer platform was had to be very far away indeed.
    His mind kept going over what he had said. Why had he been rude to Leera? What had gotten into him? He’d noticed he’d been running short of patience lately, which was affecting his concentration, and therefore his training. Was it the pressure? Was it his relationship with Leera, his inexperience, his clumsiness? Or was it something else, something he did not understand yet?
    Leera casually punched him on the shoulder when referring to him in a story to Mr. Goss, a gesture Augum translated as, I forgive you but you’re still a jerk . He smiled apologetically at her. She gave a wry smile back and continued conversing with Mr. Goss. She was so understanding, so forgiving. It warmed his heart.
    Augum was trying to absorb the peace of the fire when the door swung open and in zoomed Jengo Okeke, a very tall ebony-skinned Sierran boy with short, curly black hair, wearing a burgundy apprentice robe under a coat too warm for the weather. He began speaking in a rapid and nervous manner while flinging off his muddy boots.
    “Have you heard? Dramask has fallen, we’re done for—”
    “Yes, we heard, Jengo,” Leera said patiently.
    “Harvus told us in the forest.” Jengo floated over to the table and slumped down beside Mr. Goss. “How long do you think we have? A month? A day?” His eyes zipped about as his voice dropped to a whisper. “Or do you think we’re down to hours?”
    “Maybe you should take your coat off,” Leera said.
    “Coat … right.” He scrambled to take it off at the table, then seemed to realize he should do it standing up.
    “How’s Haylee doing?” Augum asked. She had been training with them, but her leg was inhibiting her concentration. She had broken it during a life-and-death struggle facing harpies on a high mountain ridge. Unfortunately for her, even with the help of a healer, it hadn’t healed correctly, and so she walked around with a pronounced limp.
    Jengo finally managed to fight the coat off and hung it up by the door. “Frustrated as always. She hates that cane.”
    “Pretty sure that’s not all she hates,” Leera