Chương 18: Practice makes… giant bony rat monsters?

giant bony rat monsters?

"Shall we try that again?"

"Third time's the charm?" Bork said, looking up sheepishly from where the bones had once again collapsed into a heap.

"You need to refine the mana flows, kid. You're using a power washer when you should be using one of those little spray cleaner things that dentists have."

"I don't know what that means." My fourth cigar of the morning appeared between my teeth and sparked to life. Adding an ashtray to the new decor went to the first spot on my to-do list.

"This is an adaptation of the Boticelli Bromade. I can't demonstrate it, but it's not complicated. Elegance and finesse are what you're aiming for. You're like a gluport in a greenhouse, just spraying shit out there and hoping for the best." Not having mana was starting to piss me off. I'd lived long and successful lifetimes without it before, but I'd been sent to mentor warriors. Trying to teach a mage… I needed mana. Or a substitute.

Ancient Bone Dust flew out of the pouch on my hip and began to weave into delicate patterns in the air between us.

"Watch the dust." It flowed down and settled towards the key inscriptions, small piles built up as I simulated channelling more mana, recreating the power needed to trigger the invocation correctly.

"It's a delicate process. See how the dust forms the induction loops? That boosts the flux while maintaining control. You need to do that with the mana."

"One more time?" How could I say no? The kid was enthralled, likely a sign of a failing education system having neglected his talent. I was somewhat irritated because he hadn't picked it up the first time as I'd expected him to.

"Once you've got the primary inscriptions charged, it needs to flow like this." The dust crept along the sigils and runes, gradually circling towards the centre where the future ROUS awaited.

"Then it needs to flow into it from the feet. See how the feet are on the Varl lines? That's the conduit you need to use to transfer the anima into the bones. Give me a second to reset." The dust flew back into the pouch, and the bones once again formed an amalgamated form. Each limb consisted of dozens of leg bones arranged around each other, and the torso was hundreds of rib bones all held carefully in place by Bone Control.

"You're good. Remember, a gentle touch." He spread his hands and began the incantation.

"Loss Barn Gulp. Foam Butt Spray. Loss Barn Gulp. Foam Butt Spray." He chanted the words, which were nonsense and only included in the ritual as a way to focus his mind and mana. The magic crept out of his fingertips, his mana channels still clogged and dirty, but clean enough for our purpose. This time, the mana moved more smoothly. It wasn't clumping, and the whorls that were needed to create the induction loops were clean. It slowly settled down to the primary inscriptions, and the power began to build.

I kept still and silent, not even nodding in approval as the power began to spread across the inscriptions. As the glow in my mana-vision reached the Varl lines, the cross-hatched layers of bone that served as both conduit and amplifier for the final phase, I didn't hold my breath. I didn't breathe, but if I did, I might have done. The transition was solid; the purple-black mana moved up into the feet and leg bones of Bork's new pet.

A few moments later, he sagged and stepped back, his chant falling to a whisper, then stopping. Gigarat Level 3 STR 6 AGI 14 MAG 1 ARM 11"I did it!" He punched the air, his voice shrill.

"Well done. That was some fine work at the end there. Getting the diffusion gradient all neat and tidy like that… well, you're a natural, kid." I tapped the ash clear of my cigar.

"You wobbled at the start of the powershift from the primary inscriptions, but pulled it back well enough. Overall, seven out of ten. Now—Puggy!" The Bonepug had leapt between Bork's latest creation and his master. The rattle of teeth vibrating against each other was the best he could manage to replace a growl, but he was making it work. His stubby tail flicked back and forth like an angry tomcat as he moved from side to side.

In response, the gigarat lunged and snapped yellow teeth down on the middle of Puggy's spine, then flicked him through the air with a head toss.

"Puggy!" Bork echoed my earlier cry, but he sounded like he was going to burst into tears rather than the pissed-off vibe I'd been hoping for. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Reaching out with Bone Control, I brought the bonedog back to the ground gently and sent a mental command to sit to both parties. Two arses, one formerly canine, one formerly rodent, slammed into the stone floor.

Bork settled next to his beloved former pet and checked him over. Legs were lifted and examined, and the small marks the bite had left on the dog's back elicited a round of surprisingly eloquent cursing.

"Why'd it do that?" Bork asked, patting Puggy on the head.

"The undead aren't always stable, kid. Except for me, of course."

"It was your fault!" Fierce green eyes looked up at me.

"How so?"

"You made him! You showed me how to make him, anyway." I crossed my arms and flared the motes of fire in my eyesockets at him.

"I showed you the way, but both of us could have caught them and stopped the fight with a thought. Look, no harm, no foul, right? Puggy is fine." The quiet clacking of bones quaking against each other put the lie to my words. Bork continued patting him on the noggin.

"They can't both stay in here. One of them needs to go, and it won't be Puggy. Take the rat to the hovel you're keeping the others in." He pointed imperiously out the still-open door.

"I'm going to demonstrate something now, and you really should pay attention, kid." I sent a mental command, and the two undead beings moved together, rose up on their back legs and began to waltz around the centre of the room, forepaw to forepaw.

"They'll both behave if they have specific instructions. Why do you think Thelma hasn't broken Shaggy, Fred and Daphne apart to get at the bone marrow?"

"I don't want that thing left alone with my boy."

"Pouting doesn't do you any favours in the looks department, lad. We can stash the gigarat with the others this evening, but for now…"

"You! Do Not Harm My Puggy!" The pointed finger and the tombstone enunciation made it clear that Ratty had better be on his best behaviour while we were out. I reinforced the order mentally, and Ratty headed into a corner and curled up into a three-foot-wide ball, wrapping his long tail around his body. Puggy went over and nudged at the pile with his snout, then turned, cocked a leg, and failed to urinate.

He scratted at the ground twice with his back legs before stalking to a different corner and settling down to glare at the reanimated rodent. We didn't speak as we made our way to the transport circle, but it felt as though a distance had opened up between us. One step forward, immediately followed by two steps back: typical. I didn't need the kid to like me, but I did require his respect; I'd never fall into the mentor role without it.

I donned my cloak and reduced my new equipment to dust, sending it swirling into my pouch. The dome of golden light enveloped us, and we appeared in the school grounds. Jester stepped forward to wave me over.

"Not you, Bork. You can go in with the rest of your class today. Instructor Arbuthnot has a meeting with the Headmaster."

"He's my minion, sir. I should be informed and give my consent," the boy said, respectful but firm.

"Nonetheless, young master Heffleslump, this meeting is required. Your summon needs to have a chat with Professor Parlthrop." Bork blinked, and a weird rush of envy went through me. Eyelids would be bliss.

"Oh. Please convey my regards to the professor," he said hesitantly.

"I will. Come along, Dusty."

"We're on first-name terms now?" I asked absently. Why couldn't Bork be more like that the rest of the time? There'd been a spark of something in him when he stood up to the Monitor.

"Consider it a courtesy."

"OK, Jester." He opened the staff-only entrance and let me go first. All the doors were closed in the corridor this time. I strained my eyesockets looking for the telltale trail of magic that ought to denote an invisible woman drifting around.

"This one's back already?" Her voice was lilting, almost mocking.

"He's an instructor now, Ermintrude. Clearly, the Headmaster sees something others don't." There was no trace of a change in the ambient mana. Either she was incredibly talented, able to contain her own mana perfectly and avoid disturbing the magical world as she moved, or she was something from Outside. There was no chance the rich-kid's school had something like that running around loose, though. Ha.

"My Mistress is looking forward to meeting him."

"Who is—""Don't worry, Dusty, you'll see soon enough."

"Professor Parlthrop traffics with the Outside?" I asked innocently.

"What? No. She's a High Priestess of Corvax."

"Oh, so Ermintrude is a ghast?"

"Pfft. Wouldn't you like to know?" she whispered in my ear. Jester turned to me as the doors to the magic elevator slid closed and fixed me with what he probably thought was a stern look.

"Ermintrude is a ghast." Breaking it to him felt like kicking a puppy.

"Nope. She's an impression."

"They aren't real," he shook his head.

"And Ungore would never permit something like that in the Academy if they were."

"Maybe he doesn't know?"

"Or much more likely, you're wrong. How can you tell?"

"I'm not obliged to explain my methods." I bowed my skull.

"If the Headmaster asks, I'll happily explain. But for now, it's probably for the best if you keep our conversation to yourself." If you've ever seen someone with dentures trying to eat toffee, you will appreciate just how comical Jester's face looked before he turned to face the doors and his fingers flickered to move us within the vast space of the Academy.

"I'll see myself the rest of the way. Can I ask a favour?" He nodded slowly, almost uncertainly.

"Keep an eye on Bork? He's got PE, and that shit Nomin will be on his case."

"I keep an eye on all the pupils under my care," he said stiffly as the doors closed. Well, I'd screwed that up. However many lives I lived, the only thing I would never understand was people. A comfort cigar appeared between my teeth, and I headed down the opulent waiting room to strike the Headmaster's door three times with my knuckles.

"—and here he is now." Ungore rose from his seat and gestured to a chair across the desk from him. The other chair was occupied, but all I could see was shiny black hair, brushed back behind their ears.

"Come and sit down, Dusty. Professor Parlthrop and I would like to have a chat." The woman who rose from the chair was ungodly beautiful. My cigar dropped to the ground as she turned. Her dark skin, black eyes, full lips… I stooped to reclaim my smoke and tried to ignore the twinkle in her eyes. Ungore had no compunction about embarrassing me and guffawed loudly.

"Madam. Headmaster," I said stiffly as I arrived at the desk, painfully aware of the dozens of taxidermied eyes staring down and judging me. Her eyes really were midnight black. It's usually a poetic turn of phrase, the kind of thing I despise, but her irises perfectly matched her pupils. A purple shape, like a tadpole, swam from the white of her left eye over to the right one.

"A warlock and high priestess of Death, I presume? Which Circle are you bound to?" I said, extending a bony hand for a shake.