[54]

A cool breeze ruffled my hair, carrying the flowery scent of honeysuckle with it. The sky was cloudless, allowing a dry heat to bear down on my freshly showered skin. Southern Ergentein, where I spent most of my life, was much more humid than in Ashmere. I found I preferred the lack of moisture quite a lot.

For the first time in weeks, I was walking on campus alone. Students and staff in a rainbow of colored robes wandered up and down the busy roads of the Ashmere trading district. I enjoyed watching them as they passed me by, alone or in large groups. Businesses were busy, as visiting mercenaries and students making last-minute preparations for their assignments rushed back and forth. The undead were on everyone’s mind.

My own preparations had been no less frenetic. For several days, Ashmere had organized us into camps to prepare us for our team missions against the undead. It had been a genuine surprise that their first act was to assign us all to camps to the west of campus, wanting to acclimate the ascendent to the rigors of road life. Three days had passed, with Raxx, Joy and me sleeping on bedrolls in tents. Listening to lectures about Gozmyr around campfires was entertaining, almost like the scary stories people liked to share when they were kids. Except, you know, these stories were horrific and real.

Physical and Weapons training continued too. Each group of the camper groups met up in the morning to form a full training regiment under the guidance of Master Rohan. I heard another troop ended up with Cen-Boleman, and for that I was immeasurably thankful. They focused our afternoons on survival training, which I found I enjoyed immensely. Joy and Raxx were both exceptional hunters, and I enjoyed watching the good-natured competition between the two of them.

Between my dungeon runs and the outside training, I grew my hand-to-hand skill to level E and obtained the Wilderness Survival skill at F. Also, my Agility and Strength improved by 1. At the expense of all other spells, I continued to cast Magesilk Attire, hoping to reach Rank 3 before we finally departed.

Next week, they were going to introduce us to our team leaders to work on group tactics. I was both excited and a little nervous to work with my friends in an official capacity.

But that was later.

Today was the first time I had a few hours of free time, and I planned on doing two things with it. Well, one now. The first mission to take a bath at the safe house had been a rousing success. Ugz especially seemed to think so, making an unseemly chittering noise I had never heard before when I told him we had to leave. My next goal was to touch base with Administrator Marwin. I was not sure what to expect from the report Raxx and I gave him on Florence, but I wanted to know something. There was no chance he would come to me, yet the anxiety I had needed to be addressed. I did not like leaving unknown problems unattended. If that girl was the one that sent the demon after me, I had a right to know.

Making my way through the entrance of the Ministerium was easier during daylight hours. All sorts needed to gain access to the building for regular business, and the guards did not so much as look at me as I swept past them.

The gigantic open marble floor of the Ministerium was a miracle made manifest. It was nearly as impressive as the golden tower of Ashmere itself, held up by massive white pillars. Along its incredible roof was a mural showing each one of the gods in a pose. The painting drew my eyes to Vascora every time I entered this place. She was near the southern circle of gods, a black-robed crone beckoning the unwanted toward her with a single hand. Her image filled me with reverence and pride that I cannot do justice in describing. I sincerely hoped the followers of the other gods loved theirs as much as I did mine.

After thinking it over, I headed across the central plaza to the hall of altars. Nestled in crooks around the circular perimeter of the building were statues of dedication to each of the gods. Worshippers, priests, and penitents crowded around the steps to either offer or receive benediction from their chosen patron. Seeing the crowds made me feel ashamed. I should have visited my goddess long before now.

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Slowly, I wound my way through the sprawling hall, past the candles and echoing chants. Vascora’s altar sat at the end of the corridor, nestled in the corridors of shadows. A goddess hidden in the open. It made me smile.

I approached the simple stone shrine. There were no statues, like many other deities had depicted at their churches. Instead, Vascora had a simple black vase painted with her symbol, a white sprig of hemlock.

My climb up the steps alarmed an elderly priestess that kneeled in prayer. The woman had a grossly disfigured face, from what I guessed to be a birth defect. She took one look at me, and her eyes opened so wide I saw nothing but the white. I could only imagine what she might be thinking.

“Pardon, mother,” I told her, smiling. I bowed, grabbing her roughly scarred hand and gave it a kiss.

“Blessing upon you, child,” she said in a croaking voice.

I lit an incense next to the vase, then I kneeled alongside the priestess. And I prayed. I prayed for my father. I prayed for forgiveness, for being led like a fool by a pretty face. I prayed for the wisdom to act in accordance with Her will.

When I finished, my burdens had eased, and my soul felt lighter.

I only had one thing left to do: talk to Marwin.

There was a decided lack of diversity among robe colors, like I had seen earlier in the street. White-robed guards headed toward whatever task they were assigned, and purple-robed administrators talked to each other in offices or their hallways. That was about it; other than me. The soft sound of hushed arguing on this side of the Ministerium was a sharp contrast to the reverent chanting I had just come from. Faith on one side of the building, bureaucracy on the other. I am sure there was a lesson or a joke there somewhere.

Administrator Marwin was one of those in the hallway, chatting seriously with someone else. I kept away at a safe enough distance to not be mistaken for an eavesdropper until he finished his conversation. The perceptive [Truthseeker] caught me, anyway, giving me a courteous nod to let me know he was aware of my presence.

After a few minutes I got bored with waiting and pulled out my soul ledger to research plants of the north. Before they sent us out to the camps, I made it a point to pick up as many books as my ledger would allow on northern geography, Gozmyr, first aid, and native flora and fauna.

I had just become engrossed in a section on white lion maggots when Marwin called for me. Running my finger along the page, I saved my place so that I could find it again easily. Apparently, white lion maggots, while rare, were a severe problem for the undead. The corpses still needed their brains to function, and the insects loved burrowing in skulls. Somehow, they were immune to the blight, too. Worth looking at again later.

“Mr. Horste, what brings you to my door?” Marwin asked, motioning for me to sit in his tidy office.

“Well, sir, I know you can’t talk about active investigations, but I was hoping you could tell me something. Nothing has come of the demon cultist yet. To be frank, I’m tired of looking over my shoulder. I will be even more vulnerable to attack in the wilderness, and I would like for you to give me peace of mind.” I said, seriously.

Marwin made a tight-lipped face that I instantly hated. It tempted me to get up and leave before he answered the question, because from that look, I already knew where this was headed.

“I’m sorry. We pulled Florence Claybrook in for questioning, but she passed the interrogation with flying colors. There was not even a hint of a lie, which is something that never happens. However, that isn’t enough grounds for us to do something against her.” Marwin said, looking irritated at having to relive the memory again.

“And the three assassins? Surely they could at least corroborate what I’ve been saying?” I found my anger rising. This was all so ridiculous.

“Neither Nicolai Gys, nor his companions, have been seen since the night you reported them. We could identify the two you spotted with him from eyewitness testimony. A group of four of them arrived at a bar owned by a Jalmese woman that we believe has ties to Vargyr Raas earlier in the evening. However, after the alleged meeting with Claybrook, all four have disappeared. No one has seen them, and our spells to locate them have all failed.” Administrator Marwin gave me a sad look.

“Abyss, take me! Are you saying what I think you are saying?” I said, a freezing fear lurching in my gut. It had to have been that invisible thing she had at her beck and call. As far as I know, she never left the house that night.

“I’m saying they are probably dead or gone from the region.” Marwin sighed. “They are no longer registered with the tower. That only happens when either of those two things occur.”

I knew what I thought was the more likely of the two.

“How far is the range, then?” I asked, curious.

“Give or take, 500 miles.”

They had not gone 500 miles in a few hours; we both knew it. Not even an arcanorail could do that. So, what kind of political bullshit of an answer was that?

We stared at each other for a moment, him contrite, me frustrated.

“Would it ease your fears if I assigned Izzy to go with you on your excursion?” Marwin finally asked.

“Yes,” I said right away.

That was a start. I just hoped Izzy did not want to kill me for dragging her into a fight with a horde of undead.

Guess we will find out.