“Be hole, be dust, be dream, be wind/Be night, be dark, be wish, be mind,/Now slip, now slide, now move unseen,/Above, beneath, betwixt, between.”
― Neil Gaiman, The Graveyard Book
Iseret shook her head and looked at the two undead crammed into a small, windowless storage room in the cellar. It seemed to be a cook and a maid. Both showed signs of brutal, improvised surgery. The hearts were missing. With a bit of ‘encouragement’, she had gotten some of what had happened from Margramus and because it would be much too dangerous to try to hold captive a master mage, she slit his throat.
‘If only all problems could be solved neat and tidy as this one.’ She mused.
Her muscles burned with a judicious application of divine magic, and she heaved the body into the room. Hesitating she grabbed a large kitchen knife from one of the low tables at the edge of the room, goddess knows what this room was originally meant for, and stabbed the dead body of the mage through the back of the head. Hopefully, if he were raised by the ambient void, not much of his personality would come back. And perhaps she could get Alea to do a blessing. Some of the more volatile chemicals in the laboratory would also do in a pinch, but she was a bit rusty on her alchemics and not inclined to try without need.
The cellar was once well made, and the stones set with nary a gap. The dust now covering everything had to be the result of long neglect. As she left, the mage globes flickered and faded, burying it all in darkness.
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“How did you get Margramus to lend us the lab?” Mireille poked a strangely twisted flask which promptly began to fall over.
With a suppressed sigh Iseret quickly grabbed the falling vessel setting it down in the center of the table. “I think he only wanted to flee this place. He did not seem very talkative as I spoke to him.”
“I think this has everything I need.” Alea was taking stock of the equipment and supplies. Adjusting some apparati and measuring the reagents. “But without Vanessa, it would take too long.”
“She should be back by evening.” Iseret smiled faintly.
Alyssa stood back by the door, looking around with a worried expression.
“Come in, don’t block the door. It’s cold.” Mireille scolded her and then unceremoniously grabbed her hand, pulling her inside.
The laboratory was a large room probably once meant as a recreation area with large windows overlooking a small overgrown garden. A large bookshelf divided two worktables that contained an alchemy lab and more esoteric contraptions. Runes and protective glyphs covered the ground and walls around the tables.
In the tabletop, metal plates were inset with rubies to focus heat, and some bowls enchanted to provide endless water. Cleansing wands were scattered on the floor where they had fallen, and some glass shards spoke of clumsiness or a bad temper.
Notes, some encrypted, it seemed, covered writing tables pushed against the other side of the room. A large chair with many plush cushions promised a comfortable rest. The walls were painted in a light grey tone and almost conspicuously ugly.
Mireille grimaced as she took a look around and said, “That’s some pretty bad taste, even compared to the prison we have been in.”
“I don’t think the color is for the ambiance.” Alea absentmindedly replied. “There is probably something in it he found useful. Perhaps some magical property.” Patting her hip, she extracted the old glasses of revealing she had liberated from the workshop in Grunewald and offered it to Alyssa. “Please? I don’t think it will go well if I try to look through that with Cecily.”
Alyssa nodded and inspected everything closely, pointing out different magical properties as far as she understood them.
Around noon, they ate something from the kitchen before returning to the lab.
Vanessa appeared much as she usually did by materializing out of a drifting cloud of mist.
“Vanessa!” Mireille exclaimed happily, rescued from hours of boredom looking through old notes.
Alyssa gave Vanessa a nod, some hope and trepidation in her eyes.
Iseret walked closer and very naturally leaned closer as if for a short whisper before smoothly separating again. Only Vanessa felt the soft press of lips on her ear. Shrinking back like a startled cat, she glared at the offender, who gazed back at her with a calm and unruffled appearance.
Alea cleared her throat, “We need to hurry. I don’t know if we can remain here for long.”
Vanessa took a few quick steps forward and looked over the worktables. “Mh. Should be enough for something temporary.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to make it last longer?” Mireille asked. Cyrus was sleeping on the mantle of the fireplace behind her.
“It would if we had the time. I do think Alea is right, and we might be forced to abandon this place sooner rather than later.” An unreadable gaze fell on Iseret, who smiled slightly while brushing the hilt of her dagger. Nodding, she continued, “Through the belated generosity of Margramus, we have access to one of the better labs I have seen in this human realm. But it is not configured for soul magic, and I’m missing most of my notes and grimoires from when I did the spellwork on myself. And you are different from what I am.”
“Will it work?” Alyssa asked quietly.
“Yes. And Charys did something to you which should help enormously.”
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“Why not simply let that do the work then?” Mireille asked.
“Because I can see it fraying already,” Vanessa answered. “It is divine magic, and I cannot really fathom exactly what it does, but it seems to isolate the mind as my enchantments do with mine. You don’t want the void magic eroding your sanity, and you also don’t want it to erase all positive emotions. What remains if that happens is what we have seen. Greed, hate, possessiveness, and rage. Selfish thoughts and wants.”
“Mostly, it’s numbness,” murmured Alyssa.
“For you.” Vanessa smiled. “If you had more hate and greed, that would have remained vivid enough.”
“What do we do now? Do you need my help in any way?” Mireille asked.
“I don’t think so,” Vanessa replied with some sympathy. “It's delicate work and perhaps some enchanting design. I’m not sure Alyssa can be of much help, to say nothing of Iseret.” The latter gave a small helpless shrug at that, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Vanessa. “We enchant a metal band, a diadem, that anchors a spell we then power with what crystal dust he has left us. It should last for a month or two. And when it wanes, we can always try to fuel it with our own magic or some more dust. It’s very possible that we have to travel by way of the ducal capital, which could mean new supplies.”
“Very optimistic of you.” Mireille grinned. “I will then be looking for something useful in here.” She gestured vaguely at the rest of the mansion.
“Don’t go into the basement. I did not disarm the traps there.” Iseret interjected.
“Yes, mom.”
Iseret rubbed the ridge of her nose and waved the mischievously smiling Mireille off.
Alyssa put a hand on her friend's shoulder as she walked by and said, “Wait! I’m coming with you. I don’t think they will miss me around here.” Casting a searching gaze at Vanessa and Alea, the former nodded at her while making a shooing gesture.
Outside, Alyssa looked at Mireille as they climbed to the second floor. “Are you alright?”
“I should be asking you.” Mireille turned on a landing leaning back against a wall hanging depicting a cherry tree laden with fruit.
“I am hopeful but a bit scared,” Alyssa answered truthfully.
Mireille turned her face to the side. “Me too.”
Silence descended on the stairwell, and the light from the window set high in the wall filtered by the dust covering the glass cast them both in shadow.
“Come.” Mireille pushed herself up from the wall and climbed the rest of the stairs to the second story. There was a third and even a fourth above.
“What are we looking for exactly?” Alyssa asked.
“Some magical thingies that could be useful. Warm clothes. Perhaps a blanket or two. Mine has not fared well so far.”
“Mh. I will keep a lookout.” Alyssa smiled at the gruff response and hurried her steps to catch up to her friend. Grabbing Mireille from behind, she smiled. “Thank you.”
Mireille half turned, looking back at Alyssa’s face shrouded in her long white hair. “What...ah dammit. You are welcome.”
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Alea sorted the materials and listened deep inside for the whispers she had been hearing here and there, sometimes louder, mostly just a bit too soft to understand.
There. A soft touch on her left hand led her to an ingot of a nearly black ingot with purple highlights. Bringing it to the fore, she inspected it critically.
“Adamant-infused mana-steel. Expensive and probably a good choice.” Vanessa looked up from what she was doing, tilting her head to get a better look. “We should combine that with an acid etching and probably use a transmutation ritual instead of conventional smithing for the final form.”
“Mh.” Alea was a bit intimidated by her friend...mentor? She was unsure what her relationship was with the vampiric girl. Looking at her appearance, she seemed to be the same age as herself, but she knew better. And she was so good with arcane magic. Her eyes lit up as she remembered their past discussions in the townhouse in Kronenburg.
“What are you thinking?” Vanessa asked. “Something I can help with?”
Alea hesitated. “I think I might have some memories left from my grandfather. He was a very accomplished enchanter, and his research focused on the magic of the soul.”
“Memories?”
“He left me an artifact in the form of a heart.” Alea was much more calm than she had thought herself to be as she said that.
“Oh. That is an unusual piece of magic. Most would not risk it.”
“There was not much choice. I was dying at the time.”
Vanessa regarded her quietly and then put her hand on her shoulder, reassuringly squeezing her.
“And what powers this heart is probably some remnant of his.”
“There should be a way to access that memory. It would be highly unusual if that were not intended.”
“And that is why I’m telling you this. Do you have any ideas?”
“Mh. Off the top of my head, I have some, yes. Oneiromancy comes to mind. It was quite the rage for a period of time before I was born. In the elven empire, I mean.”
“Something about dreams?”
“The empire worshipped all the elder gods, but there was one god who held a special place in our hearts. The god of poetry and gentle dreams. He was not the most martial or powerful god, but he fulfilled a deep need of our people. And the dream part was what gave rise to the enthusiasm around the practice of Oneiromancy or, more simply put- dream magic. I could probably cobble something together that would let you go into a trance without losing your mind or practical abilities. Normally that could be used for focused work or avoiding mistakes while tired. It is not without risk because you might get caught in it and work yourself to exhaustion. But that is hardly an issue with all of us here.”
“Then..should we try?”
“It would probably help. I find myself remembering more than I thought, but reference works are there for a reason, and I don’t find them here.” Vanessa inspected the spines of the books again. Then she turned and stretched her fingers. “Do you want to do it now?”
“Now?”
“Yes. Why wait?”
Alea faltered but then straightened and faced Vanessa before nodding. Iseret, who was half-lying in the big cushioned chair, raised her head curiously.
Vanessa gave a reassuring smile and began to incant a spell. Glyphs flickered into being before being succeeded by other more complex forms. And then a cage of runic inscriptions flared once before sinking into Alea’s forehead.
The sounds she had only registered subconsciously became more prominent, the whisper of the winds, a dog barking somewhere further inside the town. The creak of wood expanding from the warmth emanating from the fireplace. The hum of the heating plates on the worktable. The tick, tack of her heart. And then all of it became distant. Present but not...there.
The area just before her came into sharp relief, clearer and more vibrant than she had seen it for a long time. The edges of her vision were even more jarring with the crystalline reflections from the jewels inset in Cecily.
Her thoughts were both more focused and, at the same time, less inhibited than before.
It was surreal and...dreamy.
A hand, warm and reassuring, fell on her own small fingers. Looking up, she saw a transparent vision of an older man, still spry and dignified in his own way. Back unbowed by neither time nor grief.
“It’s good to see you again, Lea.” The voice was a whisper, but it was understandable. “It seems you want to anchor a soul against dissolution and a mind against void-decay.”
“Yes, grandfather.”
“Good girl. Never try for something too simple and mundane. For that, you will always find someone without the necessary imagination and ability. Don’t waste your talents on common dross.”
Alea smiled brightly. More than she had ever smiled in the last years, even when she had been happy accompanying Mireille and Alyssa. But the loss of her grandfather had been a wound that had never fully healed.
Vanessa looked at Alea’s smile with a bit of worry.