Necromancy In D Minor ✔️

Concerto de Claud

The common room of the Cathedral wasn't a place Claud frequented, but sitting in his workshop alone, twiddling his thumbs was less desirable than the gentle hum of conversation and scents of spicy tea. He'd stuffed himself into the study corner, away from most of his colleagues.

But he couldn't stuff himself away from the thoughts plaguing his mind. Night-Blooming Rose... He never would've thought. He wasn't sure how to feel—grateful to her for saving their lives, or angry for keeping it a secret and ruining the dress he'd worked so hard on. Or perhaps worry over what would happen next.

Beatrix had sent a message to King Jaredeth of Avaly first thing yesterday morning, but it would be another day or two before they got a reply, since the weather proved unfavourable. That was all the information Claud could ring from the High Priest, and it did him no good. He felt utterly useless.

The Council wouldn't allow him to see Octavia. Getting the dress he made had been a frustrating hassle. Even the High Priest was snippier than usual, but he supposed that was expected, all things considered.

The most viable course of action would be to wait. Octavia wouldn't be sitting in a cell unless she wanted to. He had faith she knew what she was doing. But the wait was excruciating, and the thought of her freezing to death unsettling.

A soft swear from Zhen pulled him from his thoughts. She sat across the table with an absurd amount of books piled in front of her. In casual clothing with her dark hair down, she was a far cry from her usual crisp and professional appearance.

Claud braced a foot on the table and tipped his chair back on two legs. "What's got you fretting?"

Zhen rubbed her eyes and groaned. "Something's been bothering me. The night of the ball, Octavia said there was something inside the barrier helping the netherborne get through."

His eyebrows shot up. Perhaps there was hope for the Priesthood yet. "And you believe her?"

"I don't know. But I can't deny that it makes sense. More sense than anything we've surmised. I've been researching but..." She shook her head and flipped through the book. "All this information. Useless. We have lots of resources on how to fight the scourge. But nothing on the nature of it or how the netherborne operate."

Claud plucked a book at random from the pile – the memoir of a long dead priest, recalling his time at the Cathedral in Ardenich. That city had long fallen to the netherborne, naught but a memory now. How long would it be before Hedalda and many others suffered the same fate?

He set the book back into the pile. "Perhaps you should ask Octavia. If they'll allow you to see her." The twitch in the corner of Zhen's lips was enough of an answer. "Merely a suggestion. I'll leave you to your work."

Claud left the common room to wander the halls of the Cathedral. His eyes drifted up to the ribbed vaults high over his head, and a familiar disgust soured the breakfast in his stomach. This place made him feel small, like an insignificant insect on the bottom of the food chain, naught but fodder for a larger and more powerful beast.

But, if things went his way, he wouldn't be long for this cathedral, or the priesthood. Four years he'd endured their dogma and, at last, he'd found what he need. Who he needed. Too bad they were going to kill her.

The slap of feet sounded through the corridor, and before Claud could react, Tallis came around the bend and slammed into his legs. As the boy fell on his rear, a chime rang through the hall, sweet and soft as a bird's song. The unmistakable sound lingered in Claud's ears, stirring memories of silver metal and red ribbon.

"Sorry mister Claud. I didn't see you there," Tallis said with a shaky smile as he pushed to his feet. "I need to get to my room." He inched by, holding his hands behind his back in a gesture of innocence. "I have a lot of schoolwork to get done."