Chapter 276-12

Despite having been called “Necromancer,” Harmony wasn’t frightened. Others considered it dirty, a mark of the forbidden, or rude; here Bantz was using it as a point of negotiation. She might be Irate and annoyed at the implied threat, but not afraid. She’d read all of Lord Tyler’s books, including the one about punching people in the face as a form of discussion, and in the months after she’d become Lady White, Bates had tutored her in anticipation of dealing with Countess Maye, which only came into play as she was departing Hazeldown.  This should be comparatively easier than dealing with Xera’s aunt Cezna, for here was a man who wasn’t looking for amusement, but had a goal in mind.

“I want this lovely creation.“ He said.

He touched the fluid-filled cylinder holding Marci Winters. The sylph-like undead did a little twirl in the blue liquid, showing off the gleaming bone-metal body Harmony crafted for it to conceal the necromantic inscription inside, with its perpetually frozen look of shocked beauty on the metal mask hiding the original Marci’s skull.  It didn’t care that it was caged at all. Every emotion and move had a touch of falseness to it.

“It looks like you’re asking more for forgiveness than permission,”  Harmony responded.

Bantz had to have gone in and taken her from the lab. The idea that Marci escaped into the slumlord’s waiting arms was too improbable. Impulsive madness from the soulless would have drawn too much attention, resulting in its destruction or worse if it managed to find someone weak or unaware. Life wasn’t precious to a soulless.

“I took something you planned to destroy anyway,” Bantz answered.

Marci put her metal hands to her metal face in a pantomime of shock. “How could you, mother?” It said with its sickly sweet projected voice extending past its confines, requiring neither air nor vocal cords to work.

The urge to reach out with [Manipulate Dead] and destroy Marci for that comment was strong. Harmony’s senses stopped at the tube of blue liquid. Protections were on it, shields to prevent that exact act, or delay her long enough for bantz and his over a hundred class levels to stop her. That blankness to her senses was part of the initial shock of the forceful arrival, as her creation waited without the familiar connection others had.

“Wait. Before this, I had a mother. Another mother? Other mother? Smother? There is a broad implication here that can provide a valuable insight. Mother Goose?” The creation mused.

“The danger outweighs its value. I also don’t appreciate you reading my notes, or visiting the space I rented from you, after the promise of anonymity and protection.”  She’d selected the location because of the isolation and requirement for teleportation to access the windowless and doorless room. A skill rare and often restricted in functionality.

“Oh, you still have those things, but remember I never promised privacy. As the owner, I do make inspections of my properties. And after how rough you were with Osmark, I chose to make an early visit.”

“I didn’t leave a mark on the artificer.”  [Recall] reminded her of the thunk as her blood sickle entered his forehead to create an access point to wipe his recent memory. [Mend] with [Beautician] to care to remove the external wound.

Bantz shook his head. “But the nightmares. That dark armor that won’t leave his dreams. He still asks about you, and that sickle. Put a new passion in the man. Over drinks, he let his troubled sleep slip out into conversation. So, I decided to look deeper.”

It’s not that she’d relied on the kindness of strangers. She’d gambled on her experience with shady men, and this time happened to find one more curious than she liked. Adric was going to tell her that he told her so. He never liked this arrangement. “So, you inspected my workspace.”

“As all good landlords do. Messing with dead rodents and random skill experiments is a common thing for students. You’re not the first one touching the forbidden that I serviced. But then I found this gem.”

“I left an indelible mark on him.” Marci piped in.

“She isn’t unique,” Harmony stated.

“Oh, I know that other legendary language marionettes have been made. Golems, soulless, chimeras, oddities, and the classic puppets that have no knowledge of their own and instead scrape the remains of our ancestors’ worlds for knowledge to use. What you call madness is merely completion of words and actions, magically using that information to predict what to do or say next. This is my first chance to acquire one.”

[Poise and Bering] Kept Harmony’s face schooled. Not that Bantz didn’t know she had no idea about this aspect of Marci. He’d read her notes and the lack of commentary on that aspect. “I don’t care about that. Only the risk. And that is a threat to me.”

“Then it is perfect that I’ll take Marci off your hands and all the responsibility that comes with it. We can both get what we want.” Bantz said with a grin, as if making a deal that was already settled.

“I want fourteen chicken sandwiches, fourteen ales, fourteen apple pies.”  Marci babbled.

This man wouldn’t be negotiating if he felt she had no power. Did he buy into the rumors of her parentage? Goodwill will be ruined by this act, yet he still wants a relationship with her. It’s not like she wanted to give up her research space. Why now, though? On the eve of the mayor’s party that he’d told her to attend. [Keen Investigate Awareness] worked hard. Clues were in the space, clean and empty, a checkered floor of polished metal and wood. No visible entrances. Bantz's clothing was finer than she’d seen him wear before.

“I only have one way to guarantee the risk Marci’s existence presents to me. No matter what you do, you can’t completely eliminate it; combine that with the value you put on her, I’d say I’m owed more than clearing my debt to you. I’d like my space given to me rent-free, as long as I’m a student at The Academy, with no unannounced inspections, and I need to know how you will take on the risk.”

Bants snapped his fingers. “Done.”

“I have a daddy now!” Marci squealed.

Power. Bantz had power and wealth. Some of it clicked into place, but guessing wrong would be embarrassing. I assume it has to do with the Mayor.”

“Oh, Mayor Zeddiah Antna Bell, or Lord Bell, the Antna Zed. Be-Ant-Ze.” The man twisted his words for the reveal. It gave a distinct impression of a man who had talked to Marci Winters for too long and listened to her too deeply.

“Yes, you. It’s not like this room is subtle.”  Harmony cut him off.

“Agreed, and I summoned you to be here as an early guest. Access to the city’s wide web of wards can be quite useful when you have a token allowing you to move someone from point A to B. It does use up the connection, if you’re worried. I’ll be publicly claiming Marci as mine tonight, invented by me, a language construct, guaranteeing that any risk from her use will fall to me. As I said, accepting the invite would be informative and beneficial. Isn’t it nice to have a friend like me?”

“A friend in me!” Marci yelled.

This was going to be a long night.  Von Trell would know if the mayor’s statement about this kind of teleportation was true. “How much time do I have?”

“The party is already going.” With a wave of Zeddiah’s hand, a door appeared on one of the walls. “I only need to open the doors and start.”

A very long night. Harmony pulled herself together, layering her social skills and using [Recall] to plan and prepare herself for various social options based on past experiences. Harmony gave a nod to her kidnapper, landlord, mayor, and betrayer that she was ready.

The doors opened to a wave of sound from a ballroom full of people, laughing, dancing, and drinking.  The guests turned toward them in surprise at the appearance of the room. A grand entrance. Harmony spotted the immortalists, teachers, different classes chosen nine she’d met in The Warden’s Rest, and Cezna mixing with a bunch of strangers. A social who’s who.  Their entrance came with an announcement.

“Golden keyholder, current The Academy su-primus, future Spark of Zotaria, Guaranteed, Lady Harmony White. And Mayor Zaddy Antna Bell!” Marci announced to the audience. Her voice magically carried through the room.

Zeddiah ignored the lack of superlatives and misspeaking of his name and stepped forward. “Leaders of Ricort, I come to you not only to celebrate momentous new opportunity to answers to one of the oldest questions about the first dungeon around the prisoner’s door, but also to announce that I’ve upgraded the wardings of our fair city with access to the language of legends, for with this construct anyone can now touch the voice of the ancestors with but a token offering.”

The cylinder of blue liquid lit up with a powerful magical glow, and a network of wards along the ground spread out from its base, carrying that light, jumping from ward to ward. A window past the gathered elites allowed for a view of the city beyond, where you could see the magic extend quickly. Marci’s reaction was to lock in place, body stiffening to that of a floating statue.

“I’m Marci. Let me be your copilot; how may I assist you all with my knowledge?” The voice came from everywhere at once through the wards.

Bloody hell. Harmony walked out of the room and grabbed a drink off one of the server's trays, even as he stood shocked like most of the room, and downed the drink. The powerful alcohol, designed for bodies in their second evolution, burned a little going down. The strong desire to down another one was squashed by the reminder that she needed to stay sober for this.

Applause burst from the crowd. This only made the problem bigger, city-sized. Into the second minute of clapping, Harmony changed her mind and downed a second drink.