Didn't Your Mama Ever Tell You Not to Play with Sharp Objects? [Amelia please]

[Vanderlou]

TS: Late Kalendryas in the Season of Winter, Era I of the Celestine Mandate, Era XV Post Fractum.

Apprentice Adjuration Level-Up

Every morning started with the pungent aroma of goat dung and naturally it ended in similar fashion for the young adjurator who had made a home out of a shed meant for farm animals. Not that this little fact bothered Vanderlou, he didn't mind the smell - a few brightenings sleeping with goats made him tolerant to it, besides Zinn'Sunn's public bath houses didn't charge so much so he could still come to work smelling like new and so none of the customers were probably none the wiser of his dismal hygienic practices.

"Thank you very much for your patronage, please come again if you have any problems in the future." he gushed while bowing repeatedly in front of a customer who was apparently satisfied with the Shoppe's services.

The moment the door swung closed the half-vagaran fell limp on his chair and sighed. He felt a little useless in Amelia's shoppe, besides doing errands or the occasional bloodletting ceremonies that were all too important in the craft he couldn't do more for his teacher and this fact was what invariably forced him to confront Amelia when she comes back to the shoppe, which if memory served him correct would be pretty soon.

If Amelia would come through the door he would have her teach him more of the craft, surely after cycles practicing the trade he was ready for the next step wasn't he?

"I mean no disrespect and I'm sure you're busy this darkening but isn't it high time for me to learn more? I think I'm ready for the next stage of this trade Amy."


OOCI couldn't think up a better thread title. :P

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

It wasn't until shortly before sundown that Amelia returned to the shoppe, and as such Vanderlou had to wait a bit. That she had not come back for her afternoon tea - some kind of personal rite for the girl - meant that she had been out on some pressing business. As it was, she stepped into the shoppe holding a metal cage in her hand - she looked... well, her hair looked a bit more straight than the norm and she had the dissheveled appearance of someone who had been kind of lightning struck.

The shower of sparks inside the cage, dancing against the walls of its prison, revealed just what the reason had been, in all likelyhood. Small, hollowed stones graced the bars of the cage, and the spirit looked like it was in extreme agony. Amelia, on her part, had that satisfied glint in her blue eyes betraying that she had had a great time indeed. As Vanderlou approached her and shared his desire to learn more, she looked at him briefly and walked past him, depositing the cage in a corner of the room. "Every little bit of experience helps, no matter how insignificant. Wax on, wax off, that kind of things." Yes, decidedly in one of her better moods, despite the seemingly deadpanned remarks.

"I would advise keeping your distance at the moment," she suggested, pale hand caressing the hilt of the smallsword always by her side and generating a crackling electric spark. "That little one wanted to play... we played." Her eyes traveled to the spirit in its cage of horrible torture, then she opened a nearby closet and pulled out a bottle of liquor - for the living - and a tumbler, pouring herself some whisky.

She looked at him, eyes traveling up and down with the glass in her hand, as if somehow gauging him. "Hmmm... yes," she said at last. "In fact, you could have asked me sooner," she said, whimsically contradicting her previous statement. Amelia took a sip of whisky and continued. "I will see you in three candlemarks. We are spending the night outside the city walls. Have a good, long bath." And with that, it seemed that the conversation had ended on the witch's part.

[Vanderlou]

Exactly why she had asked him to bathe was beyond him, even for a farm-raised waiter-slash-janitor he prided himself in his grooming habits and he never came to work without taking a quick shower or without a fresh set of clothes on his back so he couldn’t see what special purpose Amelia had in mind for him. Was there a need for him to look good? Perhaps there was a special customer who they needed to look spiffy for, worse, maybe there was some kind of witches coven that they had to attend where novices like himself were promoted in some kind of formal manner. Amelia was a professional and it was obvious (at least to him) that she’d naturally want to look the part and as an associate of hers she probably expected him to needed to carry himself accordingly and look as every bit as respectable as her and so he came back three candlemarks later looking different, very different.

He was bathed and groomed but Vanderlou, as usual took Amelia’s orders a step further.

Polished leather dancing shoes of obviously high quality graced his feet, likewise his hands were wrapped in soft leather gloves that were clearly brand new upon close inspection. On his back was a shirt of elven-make, its color a deep shade of black that looked as luxurious as it was comfortable and he had on him a vest of hard white leather that lent his outfit the professional tone it required. All this topped by sweptback hair that shone with just the right amount of wax to make him look more refined than he really was.

He looked outside the window wondering why Amelia would want to head out in this weather. Surely she could’ve waited till the brightening when the sun shone and the snow didn’t fall so hard but it wasn’t going to be too much of an issue he supposed, he had brought with him a thick fur-lined cloak that should prove perfect for this occasion.

“Amelia? I’m back, uh… should I fetch a lantern or something? It’s getting pretty dark out there.”

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

Whatever the reason for wanting him well bathed, Amelia did blink upon seeing her apprentice all dressed up as if he was about to attend the Daimyo's grand ball. She had actually made the more sensible choice, it seemed, decked out as she was in thick traveling clothes, heavy trousers, leather boots and a fur-lined cloak. She had tamed her electric hair and was standing by the window when Vanderlou entered the room. Snow... how nostalgic. She wanted to see the snow fall on her home village again one day. Who knew if that would happen while she burned it down.

"I will hold the lantern," she said softly, pointing at said lantern lying near Liosha's wooden perch. "You won't be able to, actually. You have those." And she indicated two large and heavy-looking leather bags. A closer inspection would reveal they did not just look heavy, they were heavy.

The girl pulled up the hood of her cloak and opened the door. This matter was best resolved while the suns were down, and as for the foul weather, he had sounded like he was in a hurry to learn; Amelia would be happy to oblige. "If it can be any consolation, your luggage should be quite a bit lighter on the way back," she offered as they stepped out of the Lorka and Amelia locked the door behind them. Harsh Zinn'Sunnese winter, yes, but people of Vagaran descent, hailing from the land that knew two seasons - cold and colder - would not be easily intimidated by some cold weather.

They made their way out of the Phoenix District and eventually reached the Shisa gates. After the few formalities required of them - how nice for Adjuration to be legal here - they were able to leave the city and head North into the wilderness. Amelia was armed, but then again she always was. The road was illuminated by the faint light of her lantern, but the girl seemed to know the way very well. The wind slapped across their faces, but Amelia hardly noticed.

"Scattered across the land," she said to break the silence while they marched, "are places of significant power to us. Sacred, if you will, though my views on the craft are a bit more material than that... as you have probably figured out by now. Regardless, I was lucky enough to stumble upon one of these places early on in my stay here. We should be there in a moment or a two."

They had come across the ruins of some ancient building, now half-covered in white snow. Amelia gestured for Vanderlou to follow her as she found the remains of a half-collapsed wall. Well concealed behind that wall, was a small hole. The girl jumped in first and held her arms out for Van to hand her the bags so he could do the same. The hole led to a small passage that, while narrow at first, soon opened into something larger. A cave. "The Cave of the Sonata," she said, "in centuries past it used to be a meeting point for Adjurators all over the Zinn'Sunn area."

[Vanderlou]

Their trek from Zinn'Sunn to one of the sacred places Amelia mentioned didn't take much time and the bags, as heavy as they might have seemed to the girl they weren't so for someone with such a well-developed frame like Vanderlou. He was suddenly grateful for all those brightenings spent carrying heavy sacks of grain from way back when though he wasn't as much accustomed to the cold as Amelia surely was so he was lagging behind a bit as he followed his mistress.

Finally Amelia stopped walking and she had brought them to snow-covered ruins that had obviously been long since abandoned - at least by those still living. Slowly the pair made their way down a narrow hole that was hidden behind a wall and with a little difficulty he followed Amelia through it until she brought him to the Cave of Sonata, an old adjurator's gathering place...

In centuries past?

So did that mean that there were none now? He looked around the cave and indeed there was no evidence to support the contrary. There were definitely none that were alive but he was almost certain that there would be a few who would've lingered on in one form or another and it were those wraiths of the past that he was most concerned about.

"Do you know what happened to the old adjurators here? This place is pretty big so if there were that many wouldn't have there been at least a few survivors?"

True, their kind were being hunted but Zinn'Sunn didn't actually see their craft as taboo. If there was a period wherein practice of adjuration was outlawed it definitely wasn't anymore so why didn't anyone return?

"Have you tried making contact with any of the adjurators still lingering here?" he asked her as he stepped beside the maiden to see the save in its entirety, or at least as much of it as Amelia's lamp could allow. "Or are you afraid to." he quickly added, his voice hardly teasing.

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

"They died, and those who didn't, took refuge in the smaller villages and towns where they could practice their art in relative safety," said Amelia. "It is the same story everywhere. The great covens of the past are just a faded memory now, though one I wish to restore." Little did Vanderlou know that tonight's ordeal would possibly birth such a coven, if anything because another was learning about it. "The Adjurators here were mostly killed by their second worst enemy, the Necromancers, but mainly their worst enemy - themselves."

Her voice echoed faintly across the walls of the cave as she advanced, head motioning for Vanderlou to follow. "All in due time," she evaded his question for the time being and held the lantern in front of her. It did not take them long to reach a fork in the path - to the left, the cave continued into an even darker and narrower passage. Amelia did not seem to be very interested in it, however - instead, she continued to the right, where the cave soon turned into something else. Something definitely man-made.

Stalactites were replaced by a stone ceiling, and straight brick walls marked the transformation of the cave into an underground corridor. Torches lined the walls, and Amelia lit them as she went, casting flickering lights on the place. There were bloodstains everywhere; apparently a fierce battle had been fought here. "This place was... occupied when I found it. I had to do some cleanup." She walked with her back straight until they came across a heavy oaken door, which she opened. Beyond the door was a large room. In the very middle a table had been set up, most likely by Amelia herself in preparation for an event like this. Leather straps dangled from the table top, a white sheet decorated with blood sigils covering the surface. There was also a brazier, which the girl promptly lit with one of the torches. Reassuring heat pierced the frosty coldness of this room.

"This," Amelia said slowly, taking the bags from Vanderlou without looking at him, "is the end of your journey as a normal person. It is what you asked for, and what I will share with you. Please, Vanderlou, lie down on the table while I prepare myself." She began to rummage in one of the bags. "I need you naked from the waist up for this." She said it in a tone that left no room for questioning, though who knew if Vanderlou was going to comply. A cage with a rooster made it out of the bag.

[Vanderlou]

Was the story really the same everywhere they'd go? He couldn't really believe it. Surely there had to be an existing coven on Telath that could trace its roots to the time before the aethergem came into being. The old adjurators were just too powerful to simply disappear into history - not unless they intended to.

As they continued walking Vanderlou noticed the sudden shift from the natural walls of stone to the brick and mortar of something obviously man-made. A few turns later Amelia had led him into another chamber with a brazier large enough to illuminate the chamber and lend some warmth into the cold chill of winter.

"I don't think a normal person would have asked for your vision water in the first place Amelia," he said, lips curling into the slightest of grins as he began taking off his vest and shirt one button at a time. "Lets get it over with then."

Looking around the place it wasn't hard to add two and two together and Vanderlou could feel the ghost of a doubt nagging at the back of his mind. The table, the straps and the need for him to take off his top practically screamed sacrificial ritual. Nevertheless like a perfect little disciple he moved towards the table and just as Amelia had instructed he lay himself down on the table naked from the waist up.

"Hey Amy," he knew she was going to restrain him but she wouldn't know that it wasn't even necessary. It wasn't like he was going to run away from here. "if it's any consolation I trust you."

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

It was ironic how those words that Vanderlou spoke to reassure her only managed to send a momentary and unwanted rush of something resembling pain into the girl's system. This was precisely why a part of her hadn't wanted to hire him to begin with. She knew he was going to make everything so incredibly harder. It would be easier, she reasoned, if he hated her. She would be able to do this in perfectly cold blood if he did, but no. Even in the middle of something that looked so bad, he could come up with one of his disarmingly corny lines.

Amelia approached the table and secured the straps. One was level with his throat, keeping his head in place and leaving him little freedom of movement. The second was around his waist, also blocking his arms and hands. Finally, the third restrained the ankles, and with that one on Vanderlou was totally helpless. "From now on, trust yourself. That is the only advice I can give you."

And with that, she busied herself with the preparations for the ritual. Since Vanderlou could not really move his head, he could only catch glimpses of what was going on. Things were pulled out of the bag. A knife, whose blade Amelia placed firmly into the coals of the lit brazier. A second knife. A third knife that looked like it was made of crystal. A bottle of water. Another bottle resembling Vision Water. A bag of salt. The girl traced a ring of salt encompassing the two of them as well as the equipment.

Then there was the rustling of clothes falling down and Amelia stepped closer to the table, looming over Vanderlou with the cooing rooster in one hand and a knife in the other. Her upper body was only clad in the flickering shadows of the room, much like his, though his head being pinned down made the scene quite difficult to appreciate other than a glimpse here and there. She had a small tattoo of an opened eye on her pale left shoulder - quite a surprising trait given her character. Amelia stood next to the table and began a soft chant in the hissing language of the dead.

The haunting whispers gradually grew louder and faster as the girl seemed to be calling someone or something. It was strange how much being in her element could change the girl, normally so modest and reserved, and now unafraid of performing the ritual in this state. After a short while, the chanting reached its peak, and Amelia sacrificed the rooster, slicing its guts open and spilling them on Vanderlou's belly. The liquid warmth of blood and intestines stung him briefly as the witch tossed the carcass aside.

Then she literally painted him with her fingers while still chanting in unknown tongues, her soprano twisted into the notes of the non-living. Rays of blood started from his navel and traced their way to his major organs. Triangles on his cheeks and forehead were the last touch - though this was just the beginning of it all. And it became obviously clear why she had wanted him well bathed... when she bent over and began to lick him clean of the blood. Truth told, despite the rather unique situation, there was nothing erotic about her mannerism - it actually resembled a cat lapping her litter. This task concluded, Amelia rose again and it was apparent that she had not swallowed any of the blood. Instead, she picked up the bottle of Vision Water lying on the floor and took a hearty sip. The girl lowered herself until she was staring into Vanderlou's eyes, face-to-face for the first time since she had bound him.

The light in her blue pools was saying - 'I'm sorry.' And then she spat everything in his eyes, and the world, for Vanderlou, became a blur of fire and burning pain. He almost felt like he was bleeding from his eyes; but Amelia was not finished with him just yet. A firm hand grabbed his chin and forced his mouth open, and a sharp blade came down on him. Pain, pain, pain and the warmth of his own blood invaded his mouth as his tongue was split at the tip. Next came the hot knife, searing the wound with more scorching pain, but at least stopping the bleeding. Finally, a few herbs were placed against his tongue to ease his suffering, and the bottle of water poured all over his face to clean it.

Amelia slumped down, panting with exhaustion as she sat against the table to recuperate. As the boy's eyes began to function again, though, he would notice something much more alarming. Dozens, if not hundreds, of entities had gathered around the circle of salt. Ghosts and spirits of all sizes and shapes, and all of them grinning and excited. Hungry. And Vanderlou was on the menu. From her sitting position, the girl managed one last invocation in the spirit tongue - and now, now Vanderlou could actually understand her words. "Flesh to flesh, spirit to spirit. The gathering is convened to decide the fate of this little brother, whether he will join me or join you." And her foot began to smudge the circle of salt.

OOCBefore you call me a weirdo, nothing of this is actually my invention. ;)

[Vanderlou]

As Amelia secured the leather straps that would render him helpless and leave him at her mercy Vanderlou could only close his eyes and start counting his breaths. In the short time he had known the girl he had grown to respect the girl and more importantly he had come to like her. Despite her cold streak Amelia was actually a very kind and virtuous person and it was perhaps that side of her and the fact that he was a naturally trusting person that he could leave everything in her hands.

Some would have called it foolishness, in Vanderlou's case blind faith would be the more appropriate term.

As he waited for the girl to finish her preparations he began to take special interest on exactly what kind of equipment that Amelia had prepared for this very occasion and when he caught a glimpse of fire-light that reflecting off the surface of a blade his heart started racing. The possibility that Amelia would use him for sacrificial purposes did indeed touch his imagination but that was as far as it went, it was only a stray thought and he didn't really give the idea much importance since he didn't think it would ever happen. Or at least until now.

He continued watching Amelia's silhouette which hovered just beyond his line of sight with a grim expression. The adjurator was definitely forming a circle of salt around them but for what purpose?

Another surprise would greet Vanderlou this darkening it seemed because without so much as a warning he heard the tell-tale sound of cloth unfurling and falling to the floor and when he looked at Amelia he could catch the naked form of witch clothed in shadows with a rooster in one hand and a knife in the other. Had the situation been a little less serious he would've been blushing crimson because up to this point he had never seen a woman's body clad with only flesh and Amelia was attractive in her own right, however the problem here was that he was becoming excited in more ways than one and Amelia's knife was definitely the root and cause.

Slowly Amelia started chanting in a language that was unfamiliar to him and her words would quickly grow in speed and intensity until it finally reached its cresendo and Amelia quiclky pulled up the knife causing Vanderlou to instinctively wince. When he opened his eyes he found himself blinking rapidly at the sensation of warm blood spilling across his abdomen. He could only stare as Amelia stared painting his body with her bare hands, slender fingers gliding across his flesh leaving strange sigils as they travelled their course and finally when she was finished she left triangles on his cheeks and forehead.

He was about to ask her what she was trying to do when Amelia bent over him and started licking his flesh cleaning the crimson paint that crawled across his lithe frame. It was ironic, that even in this morbid situation that Vanderlou - despite himself couldn't help laugh a bit. As serious as Amelia was her tongue tickled him and when he thought she had just about cleaned off every part of his chest and face the girl picked up a bottle of vision water and took a swig of its contents and it didn't escape his attention that Amelia wasn't swallowing.

The girl lowered herself over him once more and when he thought she was going to lick him again Amelia looked straight into his eyes with a sad slimmer in them and suddenly the world turned into crimson and white-hot pain. She had spat into his eyes and the sheer intensity of the pain was causing him to convulse violently on the table. This wasn't going to be the end of it however, even as he tried gritting his teeth Amelia took a firm grip of his mouth and forced it open and with a flick of the blade more pain registered into his mind and the metallic twang of blood filled his mouth. Next came the glowing blade that burned his tongue though by this time Vanderlou had stopped struggling, he was feeling too much pain to care anymore.

Amelia stuffed a couple of herbs into his mouth and finally her task was over, she slumped down and sat against the table clearly exhausted from the ordeal and suddenly above him he could see ghosts and spirits numbering in the hundreds.

"Flesh to flesh, spirit to spirit. The gathering is convened to decide the fate of this little brother, whether he will join me or join you." were the words of Amelia just before she started smudging the circle of salt that was keeping the horde of excited spirits and ghosts from him.

Vanderlou suddenly understood, the purpose of this entire ritual was all too clear to him now. It was a test of his skills and it seemed it was one that he had to pass or die trying.

Fighting down the urge to panic Vanderlou closed his eyes again and when he found the courage to speak once more it was at Amelia that he was looking at and not the ghosts. "And who exactly is supposed to decide on my behalf?" he deadpanned, eyes now searching the sea of souls and spirits for any ones that looked prominent or powerful. "Certainly not all of them."

No, there was no way to bargain with all of them. He wasn't ready to deal with that many from the other side but one or two of these entities wasn't exactly impossible to deal with.

And then at the last moment he noticed something odd and for the life of him he couldn't seem to suppress his grin. "Nice tatoo, where'd you get it?"


OOCSorry about the long overdue reply, a lot of things happened in the past two weeks and I've only just recently fixed most of my problems, I hope you're still up to running this thread for me. I'm very sorry for the delay! :(

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

He was utterly, totally, shamelessly ruining the atmosphere, Amelia thought. On the other hand, he was also taking this better than she had back then, when Shiandi had put her through exactly the same ritual. This had been the turning point in her life where hate had blossomed in her heart. If the murder that had made her an Outlaw had been the first stone on her path, Glossalia had marked her fall from grace.

The girl was panting, her breath short and ragged, for whatever she had done to him must have taken a heavy toll on her. While she smudged the salt protection, she craned her neck and whispered a few words in Vanderlou's ear, soft and hot. "Take this thing seriously. Survival rate is one in four." This was something she had only learned afterwards in her case, but it seemed to her that Vanderlou needed a good dose of realism.

"I have given you two gifts... use them and use them well if you wish to survive. You promised never to betray me, remember? One of my three rules. If I order you not to die, then you are not allowed to die." She rose, clutching her sweater to her chest but giving the apprentice a short glimpse of her back as she finished smudging the circle. The spirits and ghosts immediately flooded the inside area, completely disregarding Vanderlou's words as if he had not spoken at all. Maybe there was something missing, something more for them to pay him any heed?

Amelia left the circle, the spirits parting to allow her passage. They did not seem hostile to her, probably because she was the one bringing them potential food. While the witch busied herself putting some clothes back on, the spirit host literally covered Vanderlou. Some were ghosts, some spirits proper. They spoke in a creepy language that was not Common, hissing like a serpent's tongue much like Amelia had, and he could understand every word of it without a problem. They wanted to consume him - some wanted to devour him whole, others were more generous and would be content with stealing his sanity, youth and memories. Some wanted to cut him up real slow, some wanted to make him rot from the tip of his toes upwards.

And Vanderlou realized, judging from the bitterness of the assembled ghosts, that many of them were beginner Adjurators who had, at some point in time, failed this very ritual. One of the stronger ghosts literally crawled over his chest, an ethereal grinning skull peering into the half-elf's eyes. "I enjoyed drinking that little glass of fear, fleshling. Give me more of it!" Vanderlou could feel a single hair being pulled out of his head and floating in front of his eyes. The ghost touched it and it immediately turned white, and then decayed into nothingness. He was in a lot of trouble.

OOCWelcome back, and no problem at all. :)

[Vanderlou]

One out of four?

Certainly that was cause for concern and he really should be bringing his act together but how could he tell Amelia that this immature display of bravado was the only thing keeping him from falling into the abyss of total panic. He knew for a fact that if he were to admit that he were to give into his fear now that would be the end of him, he had to follow through with this tightrope performance and the illusion of confidence if he wanted to survive this night.

He was just about to come up with a witty rebuttal for Amelia when he noticed the girl panting, her breath apparently strained for a reason he couldn't determine - at least not with common sense. Suddenly the half-vagaran stiffened as fear was washed away by a tide of concern for his little teacher. Even as she reminded him of his promise to her he was thinking about something else, something he had been told by his first teacher in the craft. In this trade there was a price for everything, it was one of the first lessons any novice adjurator would learn as the practiced the craft. Nothing came for free and that train of thought led Vanderlou to wonder if Amelia had to sacrifice anything of importance this darkening and this thought horrified him more than the spirit-host that was threatening to consume him mind, body and soul.

"I won't die, that I promise you but... are you alright Amelia?" his voice cracked but there was genuine concern in his voice when there shouldn't have been. Even in this kind of situation his own safety was still the least of his priorities.

For a moment Vanderlou considered asking Amelia why she looked haggard but the spirit-host suddenly came upon him without so much as a warning and then voices, a multitude of voices spoke to him in an unfamiliar language that he could understand. He tried to look to Amelia for help but the girl's back was turned towards him and it was a apparent to him now that if he wanted to survive the encounter his only option was to bargain himself out.

Within the maelstrom of voices Vanderlou attempted to narrow down the voices of those ghosts and spirits who seemed likelier to listen to him talk and not merely consume him though the fact that many of these troubled souls were adjurators once didn't escape him either. Maybe he could talk them into helping him.

After swallowing his saliva and taking in a deep breath Vanderlou spoke, this time in a volume that was large enough to be heard even amidst these many ghosts and spirits. "A good darkening to all of you, by the sheer number of adjurators here I suppose I need not state what it is I desire. Instead I'll get straight to the point and ask those here who can help me and would listen - what is it I can do for you if you can guarantee my safety."

[Amelia Lynsdaughter]

Amelia thought the karmic purpose of Vanderlou's stay in Zinn'Sunn was to drive her insane with his impossible goodness. The girl had weapons to fight most things in life, but against his good nature she was absolutely defenseless. The purpose of this ancestral ritual was to discard those who were not suitable for being Adjurators. This was actually an act of mercy, as those who failed here could not make it very far into the craft anyways.

And now Amelia could see that Vanderlou was missing the point of the ritual. He was not using the gift she had given him. He was simply worried over her exhaustion without realizing that such a state came from what she had bestowed upon him. No wonder the ghosts and spirits were ignoring him - they were enjoying seeing him make the same mistake they had made at some point. Two minutes, the witch estimated. If he did not figure it out in two minutes, he would inevitably die.

The Adjurator who performed this ritual was not allowed to give any advice, as that would defeat the purpose of the whole thing. It was one of the many rules that made up this obscure craft of the dead. Yet Amelia, in spite of having seen countless people leave the world of the living in the most atrocious ways, was growing very uncomfortable with the idea. It wasn't that Vanderlou was nice to her. It was that he was nice to her and he meant it. She tried to look another way, or pretend none of this was happening.

Meanwhile, the ghosts were still ignoring the Adjurator, and the one crawling over his torso caressed his hair, sending an icy shiver down his spine. They were growing bolder... more excited. "Vanderlou," said Amelia, and she was biting on her lower lip. "I am alright, but they will not respond to Common. Just fething use the Spirit Tongue. You can understand it... you can speak it if you try to. Or were you thinking that split tongue I gave you was just for decoration? Speak and show no hesitation, apprentice."

A few of the spirits and ghosts actually turned towards Amelia, who returned the gaze in a rather threatening manner. She knew she had broken the rules - and she could only hope they would not end up in even more trouble because of it.