The Enterprise of Death - Jesse Bullington [162]
“How would, would hurting his brain keep him safe?!” Awa demanded. “What kind of solution is that?”
“A pretty good one.” Carandini crossed his arms. “It kept him from doing himself harm, which was the point in the first place, and no doubt caused some difficulties for your tutor upon taking over the body—we had hoped that if he did manage to possess Walther he would be in the same bestial position as the boy, but apparently the old breather managed to overcome the deficit of reasoning long enough to trap some traveler or another and eat their brain. That’s how you lot repair your physical injuries, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Awa sighed. Why had she even allowed Chloé to come along in the first place—so she could watch Awa become possessed, or maybe help her kill herself ? So she would be close to Awa when her body was stolen by an utter bastard with a predilection for dead flesh? What the hell was wrong with her?
“The surgery wasn’t the only precaution.” Carandini had taken up a pair of pliers and was wresting the darts out of his breast. He dropped the bloody quarrels on a metal plate to punctuate his sentences. “Breanne found a mountain peak riddled with thick, unbroken veins of iron. Those natural deposits, when combined with a great deal of time and energy and our own arcane wards, would allow an ethereal spirit to pass through but prevent the necromancer from leaving once he bonded with the flesh of his pupil. He would have been imprisoned there upon possessing Walther, yet somehow you fell within his grasp and he manipulated you into doing exactly what all your predecessors had done—studying his arts to prepare your body, then freeing his spirit from the aged mortal shell after he cursed you. And all without ever escaping the mountaintop! A little impressive, I must admit.”
“So you took the apprentice to the mountaintop and left him there? How was that different from killing him, and how could you if the ward—”
“It was the only way, and obviously Walther had a chance or we wouldn’t have been able to leave him there. Initially Breanne wanted to dump him on some empty island or in the middle of a desert, where the boy could live just long enough to become possessed and then perish, but she couldn’t, the ward wouldn’t let her. Compulsions compulsions compulsions. I didn’t want to let you in, I didn’t, I wanted to lock the door and leave you to fend for yourself, but next thing I know I’m ushering you downstairs, giving you the grand tour, so why don’t you tell me what it is I can do for you and be off.” Carandini stood and walked along the benches toward a metal door set at the end of the hall.
“I need the wits that are leaking into me, your wits, to find a way to stay alive,” said Awa, brightening. “Why don’t I stay here, and you and your collective can study me without killing me, and then when he comes we’ll all have figured out something together!”
“Out of the question,” said Carandini, opening the iron door. “We would succeed, I presume, in removing your ward if we were to examine you, which would allow us to kill you, which is why I can’t allow you to stay.”
“Well don’t, then!” Awa followed him. “Why be so nasty to me? Why not make a friend, form an alliance, and defeat the necromancer together! You don’t have to kill me once the ward is removed!”
“I didn’t say we could remove it, just that we might. Dark.” All the globes in the laboratory winked out. “Light.”
The rear wall of the new room lit up, thousands of luminescent insects squirming across it, pale green light spilling out over a spacious, comfortable stone chamber. The chairs and bed looked as soft as the floor and walls were hard, and Carandini ushered her to sit as he went to a tasteful wooden cabinet and fetched a bottle. Awa settled into the chair, and though she told herself