The Academy [BOOK ONE COMPLETE]

“You came!” Frederik shouted.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, then stopped to gawk at the apartment. “Whoa, this place is huge.” There had been a small entrance hall and the room that opened up after it was as large as our whole dorm. There were three more doors leading further in: a drawing room, a bedroom and a bathroom, according to Grit. I had no idea how she knew, and hadn’t wanted to ask.

Frederik waved a hand. His hair was its usual shape, a statuesque ramp of yellow, pointing mostly up and to the side. “It’s just an old family heirloom. Been here for ages, and no one has bothered moving it anywhere.”

“Your family just forgot an apartment somewhere?” I asked, glancing at the facade door behind me. Could they be moved after being installed? There was a table set for three in the middle of the room. White candles burned on it, casting the room in flickering warm light.

“We were delighted to receive the invitation,” Minnelil cut in, holding my hand.

Frederik glanced at me and raised his eyebrows, mouth in a wide grin.

I shrugged at him, grinning back.

“I’m glad you decided to come. I wasn’t really sure, so everything has been pulled together a bit more hastily than I’d prefer,” he said, lifting a dome from the table and sniffing at the steam escaping from below it. A rich scent of herbs and butter drifted my way and my stomach growled.

“We missed the lunch because of the ritual, so we jumped at the chance,” Minnelil said.

“You’ll have to tell me all about it,” Frederik said, gesturing at the table. “Please, sit down. I’ll get you some drinks.”

“Something mild for me,” Minnelil said, pulling out a chair for herself and sitting on the opposite side of the table from me. “Lina insulted the entity and Fek burned out the ritual circle at the end, meaning the ritual went off almost as Falar and Jextor had planned it.”

“Ha, you can always count on Fek. You had no part in making that plan?” Frederik asked casually over his shoulder, pouring some golden liquid from a carafe into a crystal tumbler. He frowned at the drink for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll put some ice in yours. It’ll dilute it.”

“I might have made some suggestions to Jextor, yes,” Minnelil said, accepting the tumbler from Frederik.

I took one as well and sniffed the liquid. My eyes started to water instantly. Something similar to what Jextor had offered me during the lunch some time ago. “You made suggestions?” I asked. I didn’t yet know what to feel about the revelation, so I waited, cradling the tumbler with both hands.

“Of course she did!” Frederik said, toasting her with a tumbler of his own. “She’s an assistant to Bronte Jextor, the Chancellor of the Academy. I’m sure my father will send you his regards soon enough.”

Minnelil tilted her head at Frederik with a smile, but answered me. “I did. Based on what you have told me and how you obviously felt about the entity, I thought the original plan sounded a bit too confident.”

“I bet,” I said.

“Take it from the beginning,” Frederik said, sitting down at the end of the table. “The enchantment will keep the food warm for now, and I want to hear everything.”

---

Minnelil explained the ritual to him, but this was also the first time I heard a proper explanation of what had been going on with the preparations. Falar and Jextor had fought like cats and dogs over the details of the ritual, but their general plan had been the same: capture the entity for study. Minnelil had talked them into including fail-safes that would be used to banish whatever the ritual pulled through. The idiots had almost left them out, assuming that if they would need to get rid of the entity, they could just shoo it away themselves.

I was so angry at hearing that, I downed the rest of the tumbler in a single gulp. Frederik asked immediately if I wanted another one, but Minnelil kept shaking her head at me, mouthing ‘no’.

She and Grit had spent days working on the ritual circle based on general instructions from Falar. He had taken one look at the finished plans and carried them off into his study. When he came out, he had included a handful of runes that created the multilayered effect of magic: in his version the mana running through the runes was woven into drawing more runes. Her eyes gleamed when she told us about it, hands drawing the shapes into the air as she explained. I watched her and tried to stop myself from drooling. The drink had done something to my mouth.

Afterwards, Jextor had glanced at the drawings and scribbled a single rune in the middle, changing the effect of the whole thing once more. Once Falar saw it, he said the change was well-justified and elegant, and threw a table at Jextor.

Minnelil refused to say what the black goo used for the ritual circle had been. “It’s not a topic for a dinner table,” she said.

I said I was hungry.

Frederik fetched a tray of small pieces of cheese and smoked meat. They were good, but left me even hungrier.

Normal undead couldn’t really get any angrier than they already were, but the entity had proven itself to be more sentient than should have been possible. Minnelil explained that pure undeath was a state of perpetual drive to extinguish all life, eternally searching for the shortest route to that goal. The living had a habit of interpreting that drive as intelligence or hate, even though it was in practice the same as thinking a falling rock yearned to hit someone on the head and actively plotted the best way to fall through the air. Her cheeks were rosy and her hands swung around more than they had before she had finished her tumbler.

Frederik offered her a second one, and she accepted it without a moment’s hesitation.

At least he brought me another one too.

The food was amazing. The meat was sliced thinly and it came apart in my mouth when I pressed it with my tongue. The potatoes swam in cream, sprinkled with some green herb that I didn’t recognize.

“Save some room for the dessert,” Frederik said.

“No,” I said.

Minnelil and he talked some more about the ritual, but I didn’t listen too closely anymore. My belly was full and my head buzzed. I smacked my lips and wondered if the dessert would be as good.

“This isn’t like most of my dinners,” Frederik said, leaning back in his chair. “I’ll get the dessert in a moment. It’s originally a Kertharian dish, a sort of a roasted flan. I can’t wait to see your faces when you taste it.”

I twitched.

Minnelil glanced at me, brow furrowing. “We can’t wait either,” she said slowly.

Frederik rose and walked back to the side table where the carafe and the tumblers had been. There was another dome at the edge of the table. “Even though they are gone, there’s a lot of their legacy left. Good and bad.”

“Mmh-hm,” I said.

“Take the whole stupid thing with your thing,” he said. “The council met earlier today about the trip. Things took a funny turn, heh heh,” he said, picking up the dome.

“Heh heh?” I asked. “Was this why you invited us over?”

He came back from the side table and placed a small plate in front of me. There was a white and jiggly mound on it, brown at the top. “I wanted to be the one to tell you. Promise you won’t get mad?”

“Absolutely won’t,” I said, poking the mound with my finger. The crust cracked slightly.

“Won’t get mad or won’t promise?” he asked.

“Frederik,” Minnelil said, sighing. “Just tell us.”

“Us?” he asked. “Some people were wondering about—”

I slammed the table with my fist, making the dessert jiggle violently. “Out with it!”

Frederik lowered himself on the chair slowly, placing the last plate before himself.

“Sorry,” I said. I shouldn’t be getting angry at him, but my brain felt raw and numb at the same time.

“Please, Frederik, what is it?” Minnelil said. She tried to reach a hand over the table for me to grasp, but the table was too wide. “It’s been a long day and it’s a delicate subject.”

“I thought the dinner might soften the news a bit,” he said. “Look, I’ll just say it. The council picked the student who is going to come with you on the trip. I couldn’t do anything about it.”

“If it’s Fahn, I’m not guaranteeing he’ll come back,” I said.

“I think he knows. He didn’t even put his name forward despite it being a good opportunity. It’s Lombarte.”

“What?” I asked.

“I said it’s—”

“I heard.”

“Lina,” Minnelil said softly. “Maybe… could you not…”

I shook my head. “Of course,” I muttered. Of course. Damnit, of course.

“The decision is final?” Minnelil asked, turning to Frederik.

“Afraid so. I know you’ve run into him a couple of times, but I think it’s not as bad as you think. It’s actually a pretty advantageous situation for you. The Lombarte family…” He continued talking, but I wasn’t listening anymore.

Lombarte. I wasn’t too afraid. I was, a bit, but not as badly as I thought I might have been. I had faced unknown entities from the mountain, pushed raw Null through myself to reanimate a bony cat that could probably rip its way through a sheet of solid metal. Let myself be kissed and held by someone. His copper hair and the scar on his face didn’t worry me.

He didn’t have a scar on his face. That had been another Kertharian. He wasn’t even a Kertharian, only someone wearing a costume.

“Lina,” Minnelil said.

“Hmm?”

“Taste the flan. It really is better than anything I’ve tasted in decades.”

“Hmm.”

Frederik was staring at me, spoon poised above his dessert.

I nodded at him. “Thanks for letting me know,” I said. “I appreciate it, really.”

Frederik breathed out and cracked the crust on the flan. “Of course,” he said. “Just… try not to kill him. It would look really bad, and you need to get this really right.”

“I know. Don’t worry,” I said, picking up my spoon. “What’s your angle?”

“Lina,” Minnelil said.

Frederik grinned and waved a hand at her. “I don’t like Lombarte, and my family doesn’t like the Lombartes. We have to seem neutral, but if I can give a heads-up to a friend, I will.”

I cracked the crust on my flan. It smelled like toasted sugar. “I already said it, but thanks. You’re a decent guy.”

Frederik nodded, eating a spoonful of the jiggly dessert. “Mmm!” he said, scrunching his eyes shut.

“I hope you know what a rare compliment that just was,” Minnelil said.

Frederik grinned. “Oh, I know. Another round of drinks, anyone? I have something special that should pair well with the flan.”

“Just something mild for me,” Minnelil said.

“Sure,” Frederik said, winking at her with both eyes.