“Not the most secure, but yes,” Moona said.
Shuran shot her a glance and she immediately understood her misstep. This was not lost on Aknard.
“We hope to use Codger’s right as a sanctioned mage to gain access,” Mallick said.
“Well, that will not work alone. You would only get audience if you submit an apprentice for sanctioning consideration, to even get in the doors these days,” Aknard replied.
“Why?” Codger asked.
“Because they need weavers to help with those dead things popping up all over the realm,” Aknard answered.
“So they attack here as well?” Shuran asked.
“I would not say they attack here yet, but they have been seen about,” Aknard answered.
The implication was not lost on everyone. Somehow the Academy was involved with the Order.
“Take me to the Academy!” Shuran said.
Codger started to object.
“It only makes sense, if there is trouble I can get us out,” Shuran said.
“They will separate us likely, and put you to test before I can locate what we need Shuran,” Codger said.
“Let me worry about that, you forget what I am now,” he answered.
“Wait just a… is this the young babe in arms that you secreted away all those harvests ago?” Aknard asked.
“Aye, he is something more than he appears,” Codger admitted.
Aknard looked at Avrank remembering the comment about being Zidu’Si and added it together. He bowed. “Shin’Ar reborn, your need is my duty to provide,” he said.
“That’ll be ‘nough, all o’ ya!” Moona said. “We got things to do and people to find. Get on with it already. Aknard as adopted mother of the Shin’Ar, I command you to find me something to smoke!” Moona screeched as she poked him with her pipe stem.
“It is gonna cost you!” Aknard said looking back at the Mellamu Nanna.
Shuran engaged the shield.
***
Aknard got them into the grounds and near the entrance to the academy. They approached the guards at the doors and presented themselves.
“I am here to present my apprentice before the grand masters,” Codger stuttered out.
The guards glanced at him then Shuran. They ignored them. Shuran lifted his hand and sent fire to the ground before them then water to extinguish it.
After their shock wore off they opened the gates and sent a page to announce them to the council. The page returned to meet them in the gallery and escorted them to the council chambers. They entered to find the Great Council in session.
“Who presents a candidate to the council this day?” the center member asked.
“Codger, sanctioned mage of the second order. My papers are up to date,” he added as the guard moved toward him.
“We will see to your apprentice,” the councilman said. “You may wait outside.”
“Might I be permitted the library while I wait? I have been testing a theory on the collapse of a re-animation spell?” Codger said working in a bit about the undead army hoping to help his request.
“By all means!” the oldest looking councilman replied quickly.
Shuran and Codger were sent separate ways. Shuran nodded at Codger and they parted.
Shuran was taken to a room not far from the chamber he has just left. Inside he was instructed to sit down and wait. “You will be tested young abisu. You will be placed if you pass,” a voice called out.
“And if I do not pass?” Shuran asked.
“Then you shall be placed… elsewhere,” the voice returned.
From a door behind Shuran a figure entered. Shuran had his shields up and could feel his approach. Shuran was not surprised by the initial attack. His shield deflected the fireball thrown.
“You will have to do better than that,” Shuran said. He planned on keeping the testers busy, allowing Codger enough time. He would wait until he received a signal.
Codger entered the Library and walked up to the desk of the Librarian. “I am looking for some information on spells on giant metallurgy.”
“Aisle seventy-four, row one hundred fifty-four, on lower level seven,” the librarian replied.
‘Holy yak scat’ Codger thought to himself. “Stairs or is there a lift?” Codger asked.
“We do not allow elemental powers or conveniences here, you will find the main stair case to your left. NEXT!” the Librarian said, even though there was no one else waiting.
Codger made his way to the stairs and recited the location in his head over and over so he did not forget.
“Impressive!” The attacker said. “You can shield, that is advanced. How are you at offense I wonder?” The tester asked. “Throw me a ball of fire!” he ordered.
“What kind?” Shuran asked.
The tester hesitated.
“What do you mean ‘what kind’? There is only fire.”
“What are they teaching here?” Shuran asked, “Witch fire, hell fire, earth fire, iron fire… you see there are multiple ways to defend,” Shuran replied. “Is there someone more… experienced to test me?” Shuran asked hoping to stall for time. He gained only one hour before someone new entered the room.
“I hear you are over confident in your abilities. I shall stub your ego boy!” the new tester exclaimed.
“Give me your best!” Shuran said.
Codger worked his way through book after book, leaving a mess behind him. He finally came upon a section that was roped off and held a closed case with a single book enclosed. He signaled to Shuran, “I will raise an alarm!”
“Only if you are certain,” Shuran replied.
“What did you say initiate?” the tester said.
“Get on with it, unless you are frightened?” Shuran prodded.
The new tester prepared a volley of various fires from different directions.
Shuran was well prepared for the attack. One by one the balls of fire flew toward him from different directions. Shuran met each with a spell of opposite force. The test went on with attack after attack until finally someone else entered the room.
“I will take over,” the new figure said.
Codger broke the charm protecting the ancient tome. As soon as it happened an audible alarm was raised. Codger hit his charm and alerted Shuran.
“I will send you to the Mellamu Nanna,” Shuran said and then Codger moved through the lines to the vessel.
“Who were you talking to?” the new tester asked.
Shuran was still unable to see anyone else in the room, but he could feel them.
“I was just wondering what lackey they have sent now. Why not just set me against the death walkers?” Shuran asked.
“What do you know of the death walkers?” came the response.
“They are an abomination to the face of Ersetu!” Shuran called out.
There was a long pause and then a response.
“It takes one to recognize another does it not…ANZILLU!“
Codger made it back to the Mellamu Nanna with the book from the library. He sat there for nearly an hour before realizing that Shuran was not to follow.
“Moona is going to kill me!” he said aloud. Codger stowed the book in the ship before heading back to Aknard’s office. “Shuran is in trouble!”
Immediately Mallick reached out to Shuran mentally through the link of the Zidu’Si. “Shuran what is happening?”
“I will be there soon. I taunt them to see what they truly know about the threat to Aurderia. I suspect collusion,” Shuran replied.
“What? I do not understand?” Shuran said to the new tester.
“You thwarted that last test without the aid of a spell. Either you wove the spell without spoken word, which is highly unlikely, or you worked elemental magic. You are either not a human man or anzillu because you do not have the look of a Drakkian,” he said.
“You think it impossible that I could wield without a word? Speaking a spell is the true weakness. If you cannot control your thoughts you should not be a weaver,” Shuran said.
“ANZILLU! I will see you destroyed. It is likely you, who sends these undead creatures to our peaceful settlements, destroying everything in sight!” the man said.
“Prove your claim and I will submit, otherwise you will regret your accusation,” Shuran threatened.
“We are ready!” The ancient kashshaptu croaked from the cauldron. “For too long we have been forced to live in this wretched swampland!” she continued. “No longer will we be forced to stay within the borders of the misty swamps, lest the rotting curse set in.”
The crone moved from behind the cauldron and placed a gnarled hand on the head of another witch. She was the one who met with Salmetu, and acquired the sample of blood. She was falling apart. Her face was loose on one side, and her hair falling out in clumps.
“Our sister’s sacrifice in leaving the swamp for the sample will not go unappreciated,” the witch said before heading back to the cauldron. “There was a time when we walked openly throughout all of Aurderia. We were beautiful and respected weavers,” she reminisced. “We will be again, and we will track down those who cursed us, and repay the favor.”
“That was long ago Grand Kashshaptu. Who shall stand blamed for an ancient curse?” the rotting witched asked.
“The same one responsible for our salvation!” she cackled as she dumped the container of Salmetu’s blood into a cup of the brew.
As the witch swallowed the potion, a spasm overtook her body. The shaking of her form brought a chorus of high-pitched screeches and cackling from the coven. The old crone fell to the earth, writhing and shaking until, at the apex of her roiling, a final scream of pain mixed with relief sounded above all.
She rolled to her side and slowly stood. As she made it to her feet, her skin began to lose the pale green tint. Blemishes, wrinkles, warts, and spots disappeared. The once old and hideous creature was now a stunning specimen of womanly beauty.
The coven’s cackles of delight resumed as the old crone, made young, discarded her tattered old robes and dress. She opened a package to her side and removed a crimson and black-laced gown. With the help of her sister witches she dressed and primped herself.
“Now I travel for the capital, where I shall take what is owed us by that fool Assinnu Isten and his Order,” she said.
The witches knew that the sample of Salmetu’s blood was only enough for one. They needed to acquire more of the blood from her line, in order to break the curse for the entire coven. As it was, the curse cast so long ago, has kept the witch coven alive in a state of perpetual rot. The vapors and mists of the swamp kept the worst of the effects at bay, so long as they stayed there.
Now the Grand Kashshaptu, Penelle, could leave the virtual prison indefinitely without fear of wasting away. Her intensions were hers alone. She did not share what she was planning beyond working from within the realms governing council, and acquiring the means to cure the remainder of the coven.
She did not have the power to take on Salmetu, nor did she want to. Although the Dark Priestess would be a means to an end of the curse, she also served the greater plans Penelle designed. It was not enough to break the curse. She was mad with vengeance, but she needed power to enact her plans. Time was on her side now; soon she would see Salmetu, as well as the brother.
“Is the carriage and the items I require ready in the border village?” Penelle asked.
“The driver stands ready. If I might ask, why travel by mundane means?” the witch asked.
“A new face requires a new impression. The people of this realm see only the surface and I will use that to my advantage,” Penelle answered. “By the time our true motives and nature is revealed, it will be too late. I must present a different image of witches to the realm, it will make my goals, that much easier to achieve,” Penelle finished as she continued walking to the outskirts of the swamp.
“This is where we part ways sister, you do not want to venture to near the border.” Penelle turned to walk from the marshy land out into the dry lands of more civilized inhabitants.
The mists cleared before her and she felt the rays of the sun, Utu, on her skin for the first time in many thousands of years. She tilted her face to the sun and drank in the light. Only when she heard the clicking of the carriage driver bringing the horses to a halt before her, did she snap out of her silent revelry.
“Are you ready mistress?” the driver inquired with an admiring look in his eyes.
“Yes, will you provide a hand kind sir?” she said as she approached the carriage door.
The driver and his companion both scrambled to help her aboard.
She smiled and nodded as she entered. “This is going to be easier than I foresaw,” she said to herself as the carriage drove off toward New Draven.
Penelle arrived at the gates of New Draven to find them closed and guarded.
“State you business!” demanded a guard.
“I am Council Member, Penelle, and I would very much like to be admitted to the city,” she said in a sweet voice that nearly brought bile to her mouth.