Chapter 43. Bone Can Be Polished
When I got outside, the camp was ready. They had let us sleep for a while. The skeletons stood in a small area, pressed so tightly together their bones interlocked. The zombies stood to the side, as if the skeletons feared the stench would stick to them.
The skeletons all looked exactly the same, but the zombies were all different. None were the same height, some men, some women. One was squat and wide. Could it have been a dwarf? They all wore tattered black robes, probably hand-me-downs from students. Or at least I hoped that was the explanation.
Falar and Jextor had a tent like ours. It was sky blue instead of mustard yellow, but equally large and warm.
“Step in, in!” Jextor said, waving a hand and beckoning to us. “Our esteemed lecturer finished the wards, so we should be safe from further attention this night.”
“And I would have done it sooner if I hadn’t been interrupted,” Falar said. He sat in an armchair with one knee crossed over the other. The armchair had a bright floral pattern on it.
“Did you actually bring the damn chair with you?” I asked.
“It’s the best one there is!” he roared, slamming the armrest with his fist. “I won’t be lectured by chancellors and students both for the single accommodation to comfort I allow for myself.”
“I apologize. I shouldn’t have teased you about it,” Jextor said, bowing his head at Falar. He then turned to me. “He’s sensitive like that, you see?”
“You won’t rile me up twice during the same day, Jextor,” Falar said. “Now, care to explain what happened?”
“I had a dream,” I said. “There was a thing.”
“A thing,” Falar said, like he was tasting the word.
Jextor sat cross-legged on a pillow set on the floor. Even sitting down like that, he was almost as tall as I was. “Think, Lecturer. We have heard about this before. I explained to you the aftermath of her outward-facing near-death experience. A thing that waited for her, she described it.”
“In my defense, I was busy uncrushing my windpipe at the time,” Falar said, tilting his neck to the side. “A thing, you say.” He steepled his fingers before his face, leaning back in the armchair.
“It must be stuck somewhere between the world and the Null,” Jextor said. “A lich?”
“Perhaps,” Falar said. “Describe this thing, girl.”
Grit stood next to me, rigid as if she was holding her breath. I shouldn’t have taken her along. I didn’t want to say any of this in front of her, but I was glad she was here anyway.
“It’s made of bone,” I said. “Or that’s the impression. I don’t think it’s really a skeleton. This time it was large, and the bones don’t look real. They don’t have the cracks or pores and so on, they are just white and shiny.”
“Bone can be polished,” Falar said.
“It’s not that.”
He looked at me for a moment, and I held his gaze. For once, I was certain what I was talking about.
“Hmm,” he said, staring at me. “Thoughts, Chancellor?”
“An impression. That doesn’t sound personable enough for a lich.”
“It could be obfuscating itself,” Falar said.
The interrogation continued. A skeleton served us some stew while I described all the dreams in detail to Falar and Jextor. Grit didn’t say a word. She sat very close to me and I was grateful for it.
“We’re not getting anywhere,” Falar said. “Something on these mountains is waking, but we can’t assume it’s the entity from her dreams. Or even that there is an entity to begin with. Her mind might be interpreting the nothingness, wrapping it into a child’s figment of a skeleton.”
I shivered as I remembered the hissed word. “It’s reaching for me. Has been since the slab.”
“The Conspice,” Falar said. He paused, tapping his nose with his spoon. “We could make her try using it again.” The tapping stopped, spoon hovering in place. “No, the other student. Would you be willing?”
“No!” I said.
“Yes, Lecturer,” Grit said.
“Excellent,” Falar said. “It might teach us something new.”
“We will not take this lightly,” Jextor said and clambered up from the ground. He placed a hand on Grit’s shoulder, covering it entirely. “Your safety is our responsibility and we take it seriously.”
That made me only more nervous about this whole thing, but I didn’t say it out loud. Grit had her lips pressed together and she nodded at Jextor. “Why don’t you do it yourself? At least you would know what you’re doing.”
“And who would pull us out if something happened?” Falar said. “You? Do you want to try to stop me if I lose control?”
I stared at him and he faced my stare. I unclenched my jaw slowly. “Jextor could throw you into a ravine or something.”
He chuckled, maybe for the first time I’d seen. “I’d like to see him try. No. It’s too much of a risk. If either of us were to be compromised, the consequences would be too severe.”
“How convenient,” I muttered.
“Lina, stop,” Grit said. “It’s fine. I want to do it. It’ll be my first time using an artifact.”
“Well, at least you’ll give her a credit for this, right?”
“Of course!” Jextor said. “Artifact use is in the curriculum!”
“Oh, so can I get one retroactively for using it back then?”
“No!” Falar said. “Get out. We’ll prepare for the attempt and call for you soon.”
Back outside, the zombies were turning blue and white. Maybe it was for the best. The smell reminded me of the sewers from Tenorsbridge.
“Are you really sure?” I asked.
Grit took a breath and held the flap of our tent open to let me go in. “Yeah. And it’s not just to impress Falar, you know?”
“It’s not? You wouldn’t have needed to do it for me, either.”
“Not even that. I really want to do it. I am here to learn and it’s a great opportunity. This is exactly why people want to go on field trips.”
“Oh,” I said. I shook the snow off my coat so it wouldn’t melt and make everything damp. The letter was still in the breast pocket. I thought for a moment, then sat down on my bed leaving the coat on my knees.
“I might not be a prodigy like Fek or have a thousand years to learn like Minnelil, but I’ll be one of the few Jonungaard mages,” Grit said. “If I do well enough, maybe I can get a scholarship. That would help out everyone back home.”
“I could… talk to the Bursar?” I said. It wasn’t much of a hope, but it was the only thing I could think of. My fingers played on the outline of the envelope inside the pocket.
“Hah, and you’re worried I’m doing something dangerous for you?” Grit said. “I should ask you not to, but if you think she won’t kill you…”
I chuckled. That was perfect. Just trying would square things between us, pay her back. The thought felt vile, but I had kept track of favors for so long that I couldn’t stop. At least she just told me she wasn’t doing it to help me—
No.
She was helping me. And I had to be okay with it if I wanted to stay sane around these people. Any one of them could stab me in the back, but maybe it would be worth it. I wondered if Falar’s wards were blocking out the Null from reaching me here, if I was this cheerfully dumb.
“Lina?” Grit asked.
“Huh?”
“It looks like you’re thinking about something, so is it ok if I do a bit of walking? Center myself before they’re ready?”
“Sure,” I said, trying to keep my voice level.
Yes! I watched her put on her coat and balance the hat on her head. The furs did suit her. Come on, Grit. Out, out.
The moment the tent flap closed, I pulled the envelope out from the pocket. It had stayed dry. She hadn’t sealed it with anything, only tucked the flap inside to hold it shut. I was afraid, but there’d be no better opportunity, and the suspense was fraying my nerves. Whatever it was, I would have the rest of the trip to figure things out before I saw her again.
I pulled out the letter and started reading.
Lina.
I know a lot of things, but I feel like I don’t understand many of them lately. Most of all I know that I should be careful. You’re fragile and beautiful like a vase already once repaired. You might not think either of those things is true, but it’s plain to everyone around you. And there are people around you, no matter what you might try to tell yourself when you go off on your own.
And when you do, we’re left behind. I’m sure Fek and Grit and even Frederik would want to be there for you. I’m not blaming you. Everyone has to find their own path. I know I have, but I’d like to walk it with someone else every once in a while.
I’m writing gibberish and I’m already late. You’ll have to make do with this. Can I hug you when you come back?
- Minnelil
I crumpled the letter in my fist. Then I smoothed it out again, carefully. My heart kicked like a mule and my scalp prickled. I scratched at it, folding the letter in half to fit back into the envelope. Right, okay. At least I had waited until Grit was out before reading it.
“Students!” Falar shouted outside. “Come!”
I pushed the letter back into the envelope and closed it, slipping the envelope back into the breast pocket of the coat.
It was all too much. The Null, the wards, feeling like a broken vase and a dog that had been mistreated into a twisted, biting thing.
“At your own pace,” Falar shouted.
I stood up and threw the coat on. He really did keep saving me, didn’t he?
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