Chapter 73. A Box of Important Concepts
“He doesn’t really want to get rid of you,” Grit said, glancing back at Falar’s door.
“But what if he wants to get rid of Jextor enough?”
“Good point,” Grit said. “Never heard anyone haggle extra credit out of Falar before, though. Did you know that’s one of the harder challenges the council has?”
I snorted. “That’s dumb. You ask for what you want and don’t give in. Try it.”
Grit stopped and I walked a few steps ahead of her before realizing I had left her behind.
“Do… do you think I should?” she asked.
“No!”
“Aww.”
I continued walking. “You’re in enough trouble as it is, girl. Why did you agree to become a research assistant? That sounds more dangerous than anything that happened on the mountain.”
“It’s a great opportunity,” Grit said. “For my studies, I mean.”
“I know that,” I said. I could have teased her more about it, but I’d done enough already and I knew what she said was true. I had a feeling that some people would have sold their mother to be made into a skeleton for the change to be Falar’s research assistant. Jextor might have been famous, but Falar was something else.
I didn’t know what. A creep and an asshole, but probably also pretty good at what he did. Whatever. “About two weeks to prepare for the ritual, he said?”
“Yeah. I’m not sure how I’m going to get through all the books he assigned.”
“Ugh, I’d take a book over just channeling practice for the whole time.”
“Would you really?” Grit asked, grinning at me. Her gums were blood red, stark against her white skin and teeth.
“You’re hardly one to grin at me like that, research assistant.”
Grit chuckled and patted me carefully on the back. I smiled, letting my gaze rest on the snow-filled ground below. Toward the south the land was flat and featureless. Snow and more snow, with a road cutting through it, maintained by zombies. There was one zombie every fifty steps or so, constantly shoveling snow off the road and throwing it to the side. The banks were already as high as they were, and more snow kept rolling down on them, but the zombies never stopped either.
“You coming?” Grit asked.
“I’ll gather my thoughts for a moment,” I said. Having lunch with Jextor, going to the library with Minnelil, and talking to Falar had been a lot for a single day. I was ready to go to sleep already, but I didn’t want to miss dinner. I stopped to watch the zombies work as Grit waved at me and started walking down the stairs. I waved back, waiting for the zombies to hit the same rhythm. They kept swinging their shovels, but every once in a while all of them threw snow aside at the exact same time and it was always satisfying when it happened.
A clump walked up the road toward the Academy. It became closer and differentiated itself into a cluster of skeletons, huddled together. One of them peeled off the group and started walking the stairs up toward the faculty rooms, a leather satchel on its bony shoulder.
“Hm,” I said. Maybe they were some of the first groups that the Bursar had sent out. When the rest came even closer, I saw they carried a single wooden box. Some of the skeletons could only touch it by reaching their hands through the bones of other skeletons, but each tried. A lot of skeletons for a single large box, about as large as a single strong man could carry. I shrugged and started walking down the stairs to catch up.
The skeletons pushed past me, clittering and clattering as they nudged each. They squeezed through the Bursar’s door and I walked in behind them and closed the door, cutting off the wind and the sleet it kept throwing in.
“You. Too?” the Bursar said.
“Hi,” I said. “Do you mind? I saw the skeletons.”
“You may stay,” she said. She crossed all four of her arms before her chest, looking more like an ant than ever before. Jextor had managed to get her the replacement arm somehow. It was shiny and polished, looking brand new. Who even made replacement arms for copper warmachines?
The skeletons placed the box on the ground and filed promptly out of the room again. The last one closed the door behind it.
“Must have been heavy to need twelve skeletons,” I said, peering at the box. It looked pretty ordinary, sturdy planks nailed together.
“Not particularly heavy. But important,” the Bursar said. “You can look inside.”
“You mean it?”
“I said. So.”
I shrugged, checking if I could even open the box. One of its edges yawned, the nails looking loose. I wedged my fingers between the planks and pulled. The nails on the other edge creaked and whined, as the lid of the box opened, using the nails for hinges.
I put my hand into the box and lifted out a handful of bright yellow sand. I turned my hand and let the stuff run through my fingers back into the box. “It’s… sand?”
“Correct.”
“Don’t tell me this is for the Beach?”
“No. That would be. Ridiculous.”
“Wouldn’t be the first ridiculous thing here,” I muttered, slapping my hands together to shake off the rest of the sand. I nudged the box with the toe of my boot. “Why is sand important?”
“The contents are not. The concept is. The skeletons accomplished their task, losing only. One. In the process.”
“Right, that’s why you had so many?”
“Exactly.” The Bursar opened her arms to the sides. They had extra joints that snapped open, stretching each arms as long as a man was tall. She splayed the ten fingers on each of the hands. “I am expanding our reach. A single skeleton is not powerful, but a dozen will make bandits. Consider their options.”
“Won’t they scare other people too? Where did you even send them to get sand?”
“Do not worry yourself. Over details. Money. Sufficiently protected. Will allow greed. To overpower fear. The merchants will. Capitulate.”
I sat on the box as I couldn’t bother fetching my chair from the corner of the room. “Right. But I heard there might be another reason to keep sending away so many of the skeletons. They are worried,” I said, pointing my thumb up and behind my back, where the faculty offices were. “The teachers, I mean,” I added as I realized space didn’t work that way in here.
“They believe. They use me. To rid them of skeletons. I believe. The opposite. We all win. It would have been hard. To secure a permission. Otherwise.”
“But couldn’t you have just frightened the teachers into it?”
“Without the situation. The cowards would not. Have come here. To be frightened.”
“Ah,” I said. “Well, I’m happy you got to try your thing out now. I have no classes at the moment, so if you need anything done, I can help you out?”
“Yes. Fetch your seat.”
My stomach growled. I had been working for a few hours on the papers. At first planning more routes for the skeletons, but there wasn’t that much that we could do before more scouting parties came back. The skeletons had been sent to spread the word of the Academy’s plan.
The Bone Express, she called it. The Bursar didn’t want to send out groups with actual money before having confirmed the merchants had what she needed and that they would be willing to sell it to a horde of undead suddenly marching into their shop.
She made me balance some accounts afterward. The names didn’t mean anything to me: Bone Meal, Mortar Mill, Pig’s Delight. The numbers didn’t either, at first. I had never seen ones so long.
“One and… how many numbers is that? Six? And then dot dot fifteen. I mean, I know what it means, but what does it mean?”
“One million. Eight hundred and fifty two thousand. Six hundred and thirteen gold. And fifteen coppers. After the second dot. The yearly proceeds. Before subtracting. The expenses. Which are significantly less. As is appropriate.”
“One million!” I reeled back, blinking. I guess the number had to exist somewhere, but I didn’t believe anyone would ever need to use it. Back when we had lived at home, mom and dad had mostly bartered. “For bone meal? One million gold?”
“Bone Meal is. A respectable business producing. A plethora of farming supplements. And equipment and tools. Related to those.”
“But why is it here, in this book? With its one million gold?”
“Why? Because the one million. Is not theirs.” The plates twisted into a smile. “It is ours.”
Quick ask! If you’ve been enjoying the story, please rate it! That’s all! 😅