"Yeah," Garrett said, "I think you're right."
The old vampire set his face in a look of grim determination and patted Garrett on the shoulder. "Let's get you home now," he said.
He led Garrett out to the entryway and lifted the wisplight orb from its pedestal with one hand. The wisp within shimmered and flared with cold, watery light. The vampire retrieved Garrett's coat for him and helped him shoulder it on. Klavicus opened the outer door, and Garrett followed him into the dark street beyond.
"Are we going to take a tunnel back to my house?" Garrett asked.
Klavicus gave him a confused look. "Why would we take a tunnel?" he asked.
"The Watchers," Garrett said, "It isn't safe to leave the Foreign District after Curfew."
Klavicus shook his head, laughing. He knelt down on one knee, bending low. "Climb onto my back, Master Garrett," he said, "and hold on tightly."
"What?" Garrett asked.
"Hold on tightly," Klavicus insisted, "I don't want you to fall off when I jump."
Garrett shook his head. "I think I'll just look for a tunnel," he said, "Thanks anyway."
"Are you afraid?" Klavicus asked.
"No," Garrett lied, "I just... I don't know..."
"Climb on," the vampire insisted, "It is the fastest way."
"I'm not in any hurry," Garrett said.
"I am," Klavicus said, his eyes flashing, "and I have given my word to Lady Veranu that I will see you home. This I will do, with or without your permission! Climb onto my back now and hold on."
Garrett swallowed hard and did as the vampire commanded, locking his arms around the gangly vampire's neck. Klavicus gripped Garrett's forearm tightly with his free hand and chuckled.
"And now we ride upon the wings of the night!' Klavicus laughed.
Garrett gave out a warbling cry as the vampire sprang high into the air and bounded from rooftop to rooftop across the midnight city.
Chapter Five
Garrett woke late the next day and hurried through his morning chores with every intention of heading straight for the Thrinnian Embassy as soon as Uncle Tinjin gave him leave. He was just packing an extra canister of essence in his satchel when he heard a knock at the door.
He ran to the door and pulled it open to find Serepheni standing there with a largish handbag and a wry smile on her face.
She looked him up and down and laughed. "You don't look as if you're dying of the plague!"
"Oh," Garrett said, remembering his reason for avoiding his Templar training, "I'm feeling better."
"I'm glad," Serepheni said, "I just stopped by to see about you. I stopped by the library, looking for you, and Matron Beeks said that you have been staying home sick for a while. I was afraid you might need my help."
Garrett rubbed the back of his collar with his hand, looking sideways. "Yeah," he said, "I just didn't want to come back until I was sure that I wasn't still sick." He cleared his throat experimentally.
Serepheni smiled. "That's very thoughtful of you," she said, "Do you mind if I take a look at you?"
"Huh? Oh, sure," Garrett said. He stepped back inside, motioning for the priestess to enter.
Serepheni stepped inside, taking a look around. "Is this your uncle's house?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said, "Would you like to meet him?"
"Yes, if he's home," she said, "I'd love to."
Garrett grinned, happy to steer her away from the subject of the temple. He ran down the hall to rap softly at the door to Uncle's study.
"Who was at the door, Garrett?" Tinjin called out from within.
"It's Serepheni," Garrett said, then, lowering his voice, "Max's priestess girlfriend. She wants to meet you."
"Oh," Tinjin said, "I'll be right out. Offer her some tea while she waits."
Garrett ran back down the hall and showed Serepheni into the parlor. She shook her head politely at the offer of tea and sat down to wait for Uncle Tinjin to arrive.
"I'm sorry that I haven't been able to check in on you before," Serepheni said, "I've just been so busy with the war effort."
"Have you heard anything from Max?" Garrett asked.
Serepheni blushed. "He sent me a bird last week," she said.
"A bird?"
"A small, yellow bird in a cage," she said, "It sings the most beautiful songs. He said that it was from Weslae, that they are quite common there. I think he's glad to be home again." Her eyes grew distant as she thought of him.
Garrett's heart sank. "You think he'll want to stay there now that he chased out the Chadiri?" he asked.
Serepheni looked at Garrett again and smiled sadly. "I don't think he would be able to," she said.
"You mean the Chadiri might come back?" Garrett asked.
"That's possible, of course, but that's not what I meant," she said, "I don't think Max will stay there, because he's not the boy that grew up there anymore."
"But it's his home," Garrett said, "I mean, if my home were still there... if they hadn't burned it all down, I'd want to go back."
"Certainly," she said, "but tell me this, if your city was still there, if all the people that used to live there were alive and well, would you go there right now and stay for the rest of your life?"
Garrett thought about it, imagining Brenhaven the way it was before the dragon came.
"Would you say goodbye to all your friends?" Serepheni asked, "Would you give up all that you have learned here and go back to being just an ordinary boy with an ordinary life? Would you even know how to try?"
"I don't know," Garrett said, "but it sure would be nice to see it again... even if it isn't home anymore."
Serepheni nodded. "And that is why were are giving Max his chance to see it again," she said, "Perhaps then he'll be able to let it go and come back to us to stay."
"Do you think the Chadiri will try to take it all back?" Garrett asked.
Serepheni sighed, her eyes falling. "I don't know why they haven't pushed back harder already," she said, "and it's starting to worry me. They are giving ground too quickly and making very little effort to recover it. Our loses have been, thankfully, very light."
"What about the dragon?" Garrett asked.
Serepheni shook her head. "No one's seen it since just after the battle of Taelish," she said, "Or its rider, for that matter." She looked thoughtful. "You've met him, Garrett. What was he like?"
Garrett shuddered to recall the night he had spent, captive of the dragon rider Graelle. "He was kinda crazy, I think," Garrett said, "He was burned by the dragon, like me, but he acted like it was a good thing... like it made him the dragon's brother or something."
"Did his men respect him?" she asked.
Garrett shrugged. "I guess so," he said, "One lady I saw that worked for him seemed to like him a lot." He felt uneasy again at the memories of that night. "She felt sorry for me... she wanted to wanted to kill me so the Inquisitor couldn't burn me."
"Did you see him too?" Serepheni asked.
Garrett nodded. "He really didn't like me... but I think he was afraid of the dragon rider. Graelle sorta came in and chased the Inquisitor off. At least Graelle just talked to me instead of hurting me."
"The Inquisitor was afraid of Graelle?" Serepheni asked, "Are you certain?"
Garrett thought about it. "Yeah," he said, "They really didn't like each other at all."
"And what of the officer that Graelle used as bait for us at Taelish?" she asked, "The one that you warned about Graelle's trap?"
"Um, I guess he respected Graelle and was nice enough, but Graelle and the other lady thought he was just there to... steal their credit for beating us or something. That's why they wanted to get rid of him."
Serepheni gave him a grim smile. "I think I'm beginning to see why the Chadiri seem so confused lately," she said.
"Why?" Garrett asked.
"Because they are turning against one another," Uncle Tinjin spoke from the parlor door.
Serepheni smiled and rose to greet him. "Master Tinj
in," she said, "it is a pleasure to finally meet you!"
Tinjin bowed deeply and smiled. "My house is honored by your presence, Matron Serepheni."
Uncle Tinjin entered the room and motioned for Serepheni and Garrett to be seated before he took his usual chair as well.
"So you agree with me about the enemy being in disarray?" Serepheni asked.
Uncle Tinjin looked grim. "Our enemy is never in disarray," he said, "only in disagreement. Once this power play is over, you can expect them to return with redoubled force."
A shadow of fear passed over Serepheni's face, and, for a moment, she looked nothing more than a young, frightened girl. Then her eyes hardened, and the line of her mouth stretched taught, and she was, once again, the priestess who had led the armies of Gloar against the Chadiri horde.
"Then now is when we must strike," she said, "before they can put aside their differences and turn on us once again!"
Uncle Tinjin's brows shadowed his eyes as he regarded her, weighing her in the balance. "And what would you propose that we do?" he asked, "Strike at the very heart of their empire while they are in turmoil?"
Serepheni looked hopeful for a moment, then her face darkened again. "No," she said, "If we marched on their homeland now, they would have no choice but to put aside their differences and fight for their very existence. Not with ten times our numbers could we hope to destroy them completely... We must..."
Tinjin raised his eyebrows, waiting to hear what she would say.
"We need help," she said, looking at Tinjin with a desperate sort of hope, "We need the people that the Chadiri have crushed beneath their boot for so long... we need an army of freed slaves... an alliance! We can't do this alone... It's not even our right to try it. This victory must belong to everyone that the Chadiri have wronged, or else it won't be real... it has to be an alliance!"
"And how will you build this alliance?" Tinjin asked.
Serepheni's eyes darted around the room, as though she were taking inventory of imagined armies. She grew increasingly animated, waving her hands as she spoke. "The Chadiri retreat behind their walls and play politics, ignoring their colonies... Let us help them out by relieving them of the burden!" She gave them a manic grin, "Let them look up from their little game to find their former slaves staring back at them with swords in hand and the fire of freedom in their eyes! Let us set the North ablaze with it! Let that be our legacy. Let it be our gift to the world!"
A slow smile spread across Tinjin's face. "How can I help?" he said.
Chapter Six
It was late afternoon by the time Garrett finally set out for the Thrinnian Embassy with two canisters of essence weighing down his satchel. An uneasy feeling had been haunting him since the night before, and Serepheni's visit had only worsened his fears. He felt as though some insidious, unseen power was conspiring to separate him from Marla, working through the intermediaries of the vampire hierarchy on one hand and the church of Mauravant on the other. Serepheni had left with Uncle Tinjin's promise of assistance in reaching out to potential allies in the North, and with Garrett's promise that he would return to his duties at the temple the following morning.
The four o'clock chime of the temple bells rang like a herald of doom in Garrett's heart. His final day of freedom burned like a tomb-robber's last candle. He picked up the pace, though his calves were already sweating inside his high leather boots. He had chosen to wear his usual necromancer's robe and hood today. He was, after all, about a necromancer's business. The headdress he had bequeathed to Caleb who had seemed overly interested in the thing. It made Garrett's forehead itch anyway. The zombie had seemed pleased to receive it, fumbling clumsily at the bundle of cloth and moaning appreciatively as Garrett headed out the door.
He slowed his pace somewhat as he approached the Thrinnian Embassy, afraid of being too out of breath when he got there. He paused to collect himself and wipe his brow with the back of his sleeve before pulling the bell rope. A few moments later, the door swung open, and Garrett slipped inside.
"Good afternoon, Master Garrett," Klavicus said, lifting the cover from the wisplight orb.
"Good Afternoon, Mister Klavicus," Garrett said, and, nodding toward the orb, "Hi, Wisp."
The orb flared brightly, making the gaunt vampire wince.
"Have you come about my offer of employment?" Klavicus rasped.
"Yes, sir," Garrett answered, "I think I should be able to help."
"Good," Klavicus sighed, his long teeth flashing in the cold light.
"I was... I was wondering though, if I might see Marla for a few minutes before we get started," Garrett asked.
Klavicus's smile faded. "I'm afraid the young Lady Veranu is not present at the moment," he said, "She and the Lady Veranu are out today."
"Oh," Garrett's heart sank, "When do you think they'll be back?"
The vampire shook his head. "I do not expect them back soon. They are having the young lady fitted for her... uniform." he said, a look of disapproval crawling across his lean face.
"Uniform?"
Klavicus sneered. "It is customary for a student to wear a uniform during their time of study... back home. The logic of requiring one here escapes me," he said, "but then who am I to question the wisdom of the Valfrei?"
Garrett said nothing more, his eyes on the floor.
"Come," Klavicus said, putting his hand on Garrett's shoulder, "Let us see if you can help me with my problem, and, perhaps, we can find a way to help you with yours."
The animals in the lower pens began to hiss, snarl, and clack in displeasure when Garrett entered the room, all save the trio of black direwolves who pressed against the bars of their cage and whined with excitement to see him again.
Garrett laughed and ran to greet them, burying his face in Ghausse's fur as the big wolf sniffed and yelped with joy. Garrett was able to manage a playful scratch behind Hauskr's ear and a gentle stroke of Reigha's snout, but Ghausse demanded most of his attention, pushing jealously between Garrett and his pack mates.
Klavicus smiled, allowing the boy a minute of reunion with the wolves before he spoke up. "This way, Master Garrett."
Garrett patted his goodbyes to his old friends and followed the vampire into a storeroom off to the side of the animal pens. The smell of death wrinkled Garrett's nose as he stepped into the shadowy chamber.
"Here," Klavicus said, gesturing toward a gray pile of dead rats atop a scarred wooden table nestled between the high shelves of feed that lined every wall. "This is all I was able to catch over the past few days. Not as many as before... the ones that remain... they grow crafty!"
Garrett approached the table, spreading the dead rats out into a row and inspecting the bodies for quality. "Yeah," he said, "I think they're all good."
"What are you going to do?" Klavicus asked, peering over Garrett's shoulder. His presence still unnerved Garrett a little, but, for the first time, the elder vampire actually seemed almost deferential to him.
"Well," Garrett said, "now it's time to get these guys rezzed."
"Rezzed?" Klavicus asked.
"Resurrected," Garrett laughed nervously, "It's what necromancers call what we do. It just means that I make them into zombies. Although Uncle Tinjin says it's more like reanimation really."
"What is the difference?"
"Well, resurrection sounds like we're really bringin' 'em back to life," Garrett said, "but what we're actually doing is just kinda making their bodies move around again."
"Ah," Klavicus said.
"So, you're all right with me making these rats into zombies, right?" Garrett asked, "I mean they won't really be rats anymore, just zombies with rat bodies."
"Will they eat my grain?" Klavicus asked.
"They won't eat anything," Garrett said.
"But they will kill the other rats?"
"Yeah," Garrett said, "They'll do whatever you tell them to... I guess, as long as they can understand you."
Klavicus looked baffled. "I don't speak rat," h
e said.
"Oh! You don't have to," Garrett assured him, "I just mean, you can't get too complex with your instructions. I mean, a zombie can understand if you tell it something like kill any rat you see or bring me that thing over there, but they can't really understand it if you tell them something like let all the brown rats go, but only every other day or something. That's just too complicated for them to understand. Zombies are kinda stupid... well, most of them are."
Klavicus nodded. "Very well," he said, reaching into the pocket of his black coat, "How much will it cost?"
"Oh, uh... twenty-five suul per rat," Garrett said, "but I'm not sure I brought enough essence to do all thirteen."
Klavicus shrugged. "Do the rest later," he said, "I'll pay for all now." He counted out four silver links and placed the coins in Garrett's gloved palm.
"That's too much," Garrett said, "I'll have to get some change for you."
Klavicus lifted his long-fingered hands to silence the boy's protest. "It is a pittance, if it will rid me of this pestilent scourge!"
Garrett nodded, pocketing the coins. Uncle Tinjin insisted that Garrett keep half of everything that he made, even though the traditional share of an apprentice was only a twentieth. Garrett performed a bit of quick math in his head and realized that he was now the wealthiest he had ever been. Even the few solo reanimations that he had performed on human bodies while Uncle was away had only earned him a half share of the usual dead man's link, the standard rate agreed upon by the necromancers of the city. The coins weighed heavy in his pocket as he turned to his task, setting his satchel on the table and pulling out the first flask.
Garrett took a slow breath and unstoppered the essence flask. He chose the freshest-looking rat for his first subject. The fresher ones were always easier, and he was already nervous about having the vampire leaning over his shoulder.
Garrett held the flask over the rat's body, tipping the canister slightly to allow a dripping rivulet of the glowing green essence to dribble from the spout. The fat green drops hissed as they soaked into the gray fur of the rat's pelt, and Garrett began to whisper the words of his spell, "To the Spirit, a body given. To the flesh a quickening gift..."
The Frostwoven Crown (Book 4) Page 8