Merigold Lee sat in her office, a single piece of clean, cream-colored paper in front of her. The office was small – large enough for a small writing desk hinged to the plastered wall, and a narrow painting that depicted the sun peaking over the mountains in the east. There was a window behind her back, also narrow, and a single, richly upholstered chair that her parents had gifted to her when she was assigned to the tiny space. It resided in an unremarkable building on the South Hakarth Academy campus, and was filled with researchers, technicians, engineers, and academics. Students passed through the building’s chilly halls sometimes, but by and large they were still throughout the long days of summer.

It had been two months since the defeat of the deity-class erowist that threatened the very existence of the city. Business had returned to its usual level within the city limits. Merchants again frequented the mountain passes surrounding Hakarth, escorted by members of the Combat Guilds. The mines ran as they had always done, unaffected by the temporary chaos that had diverted a small number of their necromancers. On the surface, it appeared that nothing at all had changed.

Merigold blew a curl from her nose, straightened the paper on her desk, and picked up her brush. With smooth, practiced movements, she dipped it into her vial of ink, and began to write. She was working on a contract. It was not a Drafter contract, though her skills in that area had led Aron to promote her as a talented editor and contract reviewer to everyone who worked in the building; rather, it was a contract to be used by another necromancer in the mines to associate with one of the many erowist Aron had trapped. That necromancer did not work in the mines – like her, they had gone contrary to expectation, joining a survey team with one of the guilds.

Business, Merigold thought primly, was business. The idea of encapsulating erowist in carefully curated flesh had taken hold with the guilds and the mines, both. For the mines, it meant a cost-savings in the tens of thousands, since the erowist preserved the corpses they were placed within. She had recommended that no necromancer take charge over more than three erowist at a time. For the guilds, it meant the ability to add undead members to their units without the hassle of attempting to prevent decay in transit. For the necromancers…it meant they were suddenly in sharp demand, a rare commodity worth headhunting.

As she worked, she did not smile, nor allow herself to be distracted by such thoughts. Writing the contracts was delicate business. Even with lower-class erowist, who were neither terribly clever nor terribly strong, if a contract went awry it would reflect poorly on everyone involved. It might lead to the breaking of terms in other Drafter contracts, and the involvement of the legal apparatus of Hakarth.

When she was done with her work, Merigold rose, stretched, shouldered her bag, and slipped the folded contract into a narrow envelope. Locking her folding desk vertically against the wall, she glanced out the window – it was still well before the time when the Lightbringers would light the city, and a cheerful midday sun danced across the leaves of the flowering wisteria just outside her office – and then tucked the envelope into the receiving box outside her door.

Reese met her in the deep shade of the acacia. She had her hands thrust deep in her pockets, and was staring up at the sky. A gold jumper paneled in various shades of gray made her look a bit like she belonged to one of the guilds already. Only her wild hair suggested otherwise. Seeing Merigold approaching, Reese cocked her head and grinned.

“So, how do you like it? Another day, another contract?” Reese asked. It was a phrase their parents often used, and it brought warmth to Merigold’s answering smile.

“Another day, another contract,” she confirmed. “Are Alecia and Garret going to meet us at the bakery?”

“Yes they are,” Reese said, shading her eyes as she looked out for the train heading into the commerce district. “You have the presents?”

“Of course.” Merigold shrugged the shoulder on which her bag rested.

“Alecia must be biting at the bit right now.”

“I find it hard to imagine anything she likes more than everyone making a fuss over her on her birthday.”

“Which is why I told Garret he absolutely had to force her out of the guild early today,” Reese said, directing an eyeroll at the hand still shading her eyes, “He’s such a flake sometimes. He was telling me how they can’t leave early just because, and their work for the guild is important, and blah, blah, blah.”

“Oh yes, work is blah, blah, blah to you, Reese. What will you do when you have an actual job? You’ll be stuck working like all the rest of us. I never thought I’d say this, but students have it easy.”

“Gods, Meri, you were a student three months ago. What do you even know? There’s the train. Let’s go!”

“It’s incredibly hot in the sun. Let’s wait a moment. I don’t see the train at all.”

“You can feel it though! The rumbling…come on! Meri, we’re not going to be late!”

They were not, of course, late. The train whizzed them through the streets of Hakarth with ever more speed than it had before the depot had been destroyed. New tracks had since been laid, and two new engines added to the Hakarth’s existing collection. Merigold found herself impressed every time she stepped aboard. They spilled out into the heat with a small crowd of other individuals who had somehow ended their workday early.

The café was a short walk from the train stop. It was remarkable from the outside, despite being little more than a door into a squat brick building that had likely stood, unchanged, for a hundred years. Ivy hung in great, curling sheets along its walls, and white lattice had been erected in a great rectangle in front of the door to house dozens of cream-tiled tables. Clematis and dawn roses competed for space with the ivy, dripping from the latticework and from thick beams that cast shade down over the tables. It was a place intended to capture the imagination of those who arrived to taste the bakeries cakes and tarts.

“There they are,” Reese said, pointing at one of the tables. Garret and Alecia sat there, deep in conversation. “I’ll grab the cake. Go sit with them.”

Merigold watched her sister run off to the bakery door and vanish inside. She knew better than to argue. Alecia had seen her, at any rate, and was waving her over imperiously.

“Happy birthday, Alecia,” Merigold said, sitting in one of the brass chairs the two had clearly pulled up for her and Reese.

“Why thank you,” Alecia said, smiling. “Since we never get to celebrate your birthday, Merigold, I like to think we have extra fun on mine.”

“Getting older is nothing to be excited about,” Merigold replied with a thin-lipped smile.

“Here comes Reese with the cake,” Garret skillfully drew everyone’s attention away from the conversation as Reese stepped around the bakery door carrying a cardboard box stacked with plates.

“You’re going to love this,” Reese said, setting the box on the table and distributing the plates with Garret’s help. Alecia clapped her was staring expectantly at the box. Merigold shook her head.

Reese opened the box, excitedly setting the lid aside. They all stared.

The cake was a dusty red-brown color that echoed the mountains all around Hakarth. On one side of it was a domed, sand-colored structure inscribed with a miniature circle of frosting runes. It was clearly a furnace.

“Oh no, Reese,” Garret said, discreetly coughing and looking between her and the cake.

There were four people arrayed in a rough circle around the cake. One was obviously Reese, crouched over the furnace. Alecia and Merigold, or their likenesses, stood around a circle on the floor. The final figure was prone, spattered with red splotches of icing. Its eyes were a noxious green. In between the furnace and the figures were the words

25 Years of Killing It

“Zombie Zip! This has to be the defining moment of the year, Alecia. I had to capture it in cake,” Reese explained, giving Garret an impatient look that suggested he had better not ruin her moment. “I really think it turned out well. I wasn’t sure when I was explaining it to them, and they kept making this expression. You know the one, like I was spouting nonsense…”

“You didn’t have second thoughts about this corpse cake while explaining it to the baker?” Alecia asked, eyeing it dubiously.

“It is beautifully done,” Merigold commented.

“Even if it does sort of suggest you’re all murderers,” Garret added, wiping tears from his eyes as he held back his laughter. Merigold held out the cake knife to Reese, smiling despite herself.

“Okay, okay, fine. So, the cake turned out a bit weird. It’s going to taste delicious,” Reese defended.

“Strawberry vanilla?” Alecia asked hopefully.

“Strawberry, vanilla, and pistachio,” Reese said. Garret finally gave up holding in his laughter, much to Reese’s chagrin. Alecia snorted.

“Thank you, Reese. It will absolutely be delicious. And what is life without a few laughs.”

“What indeed?” Merigold asked dryly. As Reese cut into the cake, oozing strawberry filling all over the table, Merigold went to retrieve four cups of cider, and passed them out. Then she held one up, smiling.

“To another year of killing it,” she said. There was more laughter. Garret’s face had turned bright red. Reese snickered. Even Alecia chuckled.

Another year indeed.

The End