“You pile of stones, you waste, you desolation, I'll stuff you with misery till it comes out of your eyes. I'll change your heart into green grass, and all you love into a sheep. I'll turn you into a bad poet with dreams.”

― Peter S. Beagle, The Last Unicorn

Vanessa double-checked the inscriptions made with the specially prepared chalk she had found in one of the drawers. ‘Nice to have a laboratory meant for more than alchemy!’ Frowning, she dusted her hands, and still seeing white residues beneath her nails, she intoned a cleansing spell. Water briefly flowed over her skin and then vanished, taking the dirt with it. Waving her arms to remove the last drops of moisture, she concentrated.

In the background, Alea was happily chatting with the ghost of her grandfather.

Iseret was sleeping on the cushioned armchair. Even in slumber, her eyes were half-open. Mireille and Alyssa were still searching the house, and Vanessa briefly contemplated looking for them. But with her and Alea in the lab, there should not be that many possibilities for mayhem. And the night was not getting any younger.

She hesitated and looked at the door but then shrugged. The ingots they had found were lying in the middle of the stone slab the chalk markings and inscriptions took nearly two-thirds of the area, two by two meters all in all. If she could still have gotten back pain, she probably would have.

Small earthenware bowls filled with crystal dust still mixed with blood crystals stood at key points of the circle. She was not shy about using the tainted crystals as they contained valuable mana, and she was pretty confident in getting it to do as she wished.

Shrugging out of her cloak, one of the few times since she had escaped the cage back in Sorringen, she cracked her knuckles and began weaving the necessary spells. The ingots began to glow with a cold flame and then started to soften and run together. Small flashes of energy sparked inside the metal, illuminating it like lightning-lit storm clouds.

The process took nearly an hour of continuous chanting and spellwork. The result was a glowing blob of liquid metal hovering in the air between the softly gleaming sigils. Nearly two-thirds of the crystal dust had vanished, integrated into the working.

‘Now for the difficult part.’ Steeling herself, she concentrated on the result she was aiming for, envisioning it as perfectly as she could. Her memory kept pristine by spells she had cast beforehand; she then initiated the final part of the spell.

Iseret gazed at the vampire and smiled quietly to herself. The lithe figure of her friend, clad in a close-fitting dark grey linen shirt and pants cinched with two different belts from which hung an assortment of pouches and tools, never ceased to fascinate her. There were the fragile-looking thin arms and legs but also the power barely contained beneath the surface. The grace of her elven heritage and the stillness of death. Add to that the glowing eyes and elongated fangs, and she could barely restrain herself from hugging her.

Which would not be well-received, especially now. Lowering her eyelids, she lazily continued to watch.

The metal formed a circle or- more correctly put- an oval, better to fit Alyssa’s head, the intended recipient. Then runes began to appear as the metal was pressed and formed by telekinetic forces. Vanessa frowned and barely controlled a sputtering discharge of elemental force as a particularly large piece of blood crystal ignited, and the power surged.

Then the lights began to dim, and the hovering circlet began to solidify.

“Finished?” Iseret rose from her seat and walked over while inspecting the metal circlet.

“Mh.” Vanessa looked mentally drained and rubbed her hands, kneading out the stiffness from the hours-long spellcasting.

“And Alea?”

“I don’t know. She is still designing the spellwork. This circlet will contain most anything now. I should know. I used one of those in the years when I was trying to get my mortality back.”

“You did?”

“Yes. I was not remotely satisfied being an undead monster, and the possibility of falling under the sway of some necromancer or other made me want to kill myself more than once.”

“Good thing you didn’t.”

“Mh. Well, it is finished, and it seems that Alea still has work to do. We should look for Mireille and Alyssa. I wonder what took them so long.”

“I think it would be best if you remain here and I go looking. I’ve slept long enough.” Iseret smiled before giving Vanessa’s hair a quick fluff.

“Hey!” Swatting the mischievous hand aside, the vampire looked annoyed as the door closed behind the assassin.

Iseret found Alyssa quickly enough. She was lying on her back on a bed in a guestroom, feet still resting on the ground staring at the ceiling. She looked to the side as the snake-woman entered, stopping her petting of a quietly sleeping Cyrus. “Ah, Iseret. Anything happening?”

She sounded quiet and a bit depressed.

“Vanessa finished the circlet. We should have barely enough crystal dust to anchor a sufficiently powerful enchantment. Did you or Mireille find anything?”

“Some coins, a bit of jewelry, and a few very comfy blankets.” At the last, Alyssa smiled a bit.

“Do you still sleep?”

“Ah. Damn.”

“Sorry, I did not think you wouldn’t realize. Do you know where Mireille is?”

“The last time I saw her, she walked up those stairs over there.” She pointed in the direction of the corridor.

“Please go down and join Alea and Vanessa. I will get her.” Iseret motioned with her chin towards the door before vanishing into the darkness of the corridor.

Alyssa groaned and followed her directions.

Soon after, they were all assembled in the lab.

“What is with Alea? Will she come out of it soon?” Mireille made to poke the unsuspecting girl but was stopped by Alyssa, who shook her head with a frown.

“I don’t think she will finish this night.” Vanessa ignored this byplay.

“She will stop before she gets too tired?” Iseret asked.

“I can end the trance at any time.”

Iseret pulled the curtains back a bit and looked outside. “Just before dawn. I think you should let her get some rest.”

“Mh, she seems energetic enough. But you may be right.” Vanessa made a cutting gesture, and Alea stumbled, looking around dazedly.

“Where, what?” She stammered.

“I ended the spell keeping you in a trance. You have been talking to your grandfather for a few hours now. Do you remember?” Vanessa waved her hand before the girl's face.

Alea staggered, and Mireille quickly grabbed her shoulders, guiding her towards a chair. “Everything alright with you?”

“Mh. Yes.” Alea looked forlorn, and the exuberance of the past hours was nowhere to be seen.

Vanessa looked a bit uncomfortable. “Sorry for putting you through that.”

“No. No, that was...I’m very glad you did that. It helps us, and I can finally say what I wanted to him. I did not say goodbye. I did not realize the spell would end so soon.”

“You still haven’t finished. I think we will have about two days at least before the spell is ready.”

“You mean…?”

“Yes, I will spell you again in the evening when you have rested and eaten something.”

“Oh! I’m glad. I was pretty sure that this…” She patted the stack of notes that had formed before her. “...would not be enough, but I wasn’t sure.”

Alyssa gave Alea’s shoulder a squeeze. “And then you can still say goodbye. You only have to remember to do it first.”

Alea gave a wan smile and nodded.

“So. Everyone, grab what you need, we are staying here this night, but I don’t want you scattered over the whole building. No sense it giving our enemies a defenseless target.” Vanessa interrupted the two.

Alyssa nodded, “I will keep watch.”

Mireille wanted to protest, then remembered her friend's condition and finally kept silent. Emotions flitted between protest, irritation at herself, and finally, a tired acceptance.

The day passed at a snail's pace. Alyssa skimmed some of the books arranged in bookcases along the wall but was soon bored to death by the highly academic wording. Only a book on poison techniques was strangely entertaining as the author was something of a cynic and had a malicious humor that was as captivating as it was repulsive at times.

In the early afternoon, a commotion could be heard from outside, and she quickly walked to the window pulling back the curtains for a better look.

Toward the eastern gate, there seemed to be some sort of gathering, and many militias were manning the walls. Groaning as she feared a renewed assault, Alyssa woke Mireille and Iseret. The latter was already up as she wanted to shake her. “I think there is another attack from the east!”

Iseret’s eyes sharpened. “Do you still have your connection to the undead?”

“Ah.” Alyssa looked a bit sheepish and concentrated. The first she realized was the simmering resentment from Calmund von Nordmark, the wight she had left in the slaughterhouse. He had apparently distinguished himself in the streetfighting, but she had neither seen nor spoken to him since. A flash of reproach stabbed at her before she could send him a few calming thoughts with an underlayer of her catastrophic wounds from the blood crystals. She omitted- not that she had the wherewithal of prolonged communication- her new undead state but sensed that he might have caught on to something. Grim amusement colored his dismissal of her silent apology.

“And?” Iseret asked her impatiently.

“I’m working on it!” Alyssa frowned and concentrated on the more tenuous connection to the undead outside the city, nearly overwhelmed by the multitudes of vermin, animal corpses, and humanoid undead. Some of them seemed to be agitated by nearby living people, and she further honed in on them. The jewel in her wrist began to glow as she began to expend more power, and suddenly she was seeing through the eyes of a fleshfiend staggering between some frozen trees. Before her, she saw a column of men marching in a double file on the snowed-in road from the south. And as she subconsciously urged the fleshfiend closer she began to see individual faces and some uniforms. The colors and insignias of Margrinars army as well as the heraldry of Kronenburg.

Before she could come closer, a woman riding beside the marching soldiers raised a stout rod in her direction, and she had a brief view of green eyes in a youngish-looking face that she soon recognized as one of the academy teachers who had come along for the field training. A flash of brilliant light seared her eyes before her vision spun around, and she saw the sky wheeling above her- Then nothing.

“Soldiers from Kronenburg!” Alyssa excitedly exclaimed.

“Are you sure?” Mireille grabbed her stumbling friend. “Hey, sit down first!”

“There were soldiers, and they wore the army's uniform, and they flew the banner of Kronenburg. And there was a teacher from the academy. I think she was called Esme?”

“Esme...and?”

“I only remembered her first name because it was cute!” Alyssa blurted out.

Iseret snorted in amusement. “We should have someone go over and have a look. Mireille?”

“Yes? I mean, yes! Alyssa, come with me.” Mireille grabbed her coat quickly, putting it on before pulling Alyssa toward the door.

“Halt! Where do you think you are taking our new undead? Into the daylight and toward soldiers, only waiting for one to show so they can kill it?” Iseret slammed the door shut before they could leave.

Vanessa groaned and sat up slowly. “Soldiers? And academy mages? We should keep out of sight but...thank the gods.”

Iseret looked at them worriedly. “Are you fit enough to flee if someone comes for you?” She inspected the vampire.

“Yes. That should be no problem, and Alyssa is even less affected. Go. Alea is still here, too. We are not defenseless.”

Mordrak stretched his arms and balled his fists before cracking his neck. The small camp he had his men prepare after the ambush last night was busy with his warband covering all traces of their presence. They had made the Southerners pay for their transgressions, and many of the soldiers would feed the roots of grass and tree with their flesh and blood.

Grinning at the thought of a bit of karmic payback, he looked up as the scout he had commanded to have an eye on the city came jogging through the snow between the trees. The lithe figure bowed quickly, and then the young woman with the golden eyes of his pack but only vestigial fangs and claws, making her unfit for being a warrior, spoke up. “Men, many men and some horses coming from the south. They wear the cloth and the color of the despoilers. I counted at least five scores.”

“A hundred. Mh. Not that many on the larger scale of things. And the horses?”

“Men and woman both. They have green and gold clothes.” She gestured, indicating coats and a cape.

Mordrak’s thoughts flashed back to the group of students he had seen “Mages. Perhaps they are not in league with the despoilers after all. We should not be hasty. Stirring another hornet's nest when we have so much still to do...could be unwise.” His deep voice rumbled through the clearing, and his Warband listened.

The woman flattened her ears and slightly turned her head, exposing her throat in a subconscious gesture.

“Be at ease. I will go and try to speak with them. You will guide me. My wolves! Try to stay on their trail and harry them when needed. Olif will command in my absence. Wait for me when they enter one of the dwellings of stone. Mark the trail with our signs so I can find you.”

The warriors nodded, and one of them, a giant nearly his equal in size and bulk, bashed his chest with a large calloused fist before motioning the other wolf-tribe to hurry.