Adrissu expected to feel some measure of guilt for having forced the fake memory onto the unsuspecting human; but if he did, it was drowned out by the relief that a stranger would not enter his home to scrutinize every inch—dealing with the delays on the new academy building was frustrating enough.
Slowly, the world changed around him, but he had nothing but time. It took a year for all the roads in Polimnos to be paved with stone; by the time construction resumed on the academy, they were poised to have a hundred and fifty students the following term. When it finally opened, they were closer to two hundred.
Ten years after Volkmar’s death, the Polimnos Academy of Magic was thriving: the foremost location of arcane study in Autreth, second only to the esteemed College in Gennemont. The city had continued to expand, and in many ways bore no resemblance to the quaint town where he had met Ruan, nor the growing city where he and Volkmar had lived in leisure. Sometimes it felt like he was the only constant thing in Polimnos.
When the growth of the academy seemed to have stabilized, and he had enough trusted instructors in place that he did not feel the need to constantly monitor everything that happened during the school year, Adrissu stepped back a bit to resume his own studies. With the knowledge he had gleaned from Caemar Illuren, and the hastily-noted copy of the runes that the elf had used, he started his own experiments.
He started with animals, the way Caemar had described. Vesper hated having other animals around and strangled the first two chickens he brought home, much to his chagrin; after that he took them directly down into his lair, instead of trying to work in his study. In his hoard he had more than enough small gems to start with simple creatures like this, not to mention the utter privacy that provided few distractions, so it turned out for the best.
The first time he tried it, he accidentally killed the chicken when he pulled its tiny soul from its body. Fuming, he went over the runes that he had notated, checking and double checking his work, but all seemed correctly placed and executed. He could not find where he went wrong, so he erased the entire array and started over, drawing the circle out again from scratch. The components of the ritual were uncommon, but not nearly as difficult to procure as the soul-binding components had been.
The second time he tested the ritual, he did everything more slowly, closing his eyes in concentration: one hand on the bird to feel the exact spark of life that was the creature’s soul, before guiding it, still painstakingly slow, out of its body and into a small ruby that he held in the other hand. This time, the chicken survived, the ruby flickering with an almost imperceptible glow, as its body lay limp on the ground, warm and breathing.
Adrissu grinned down at the ruby in his fingers. As small a step as it was, it proved that his theory was possible. He only had to continue down this path until he reached his goal.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Twenty-oneyearsafterVolkmar’sdeath, two city advisors quietly approached Adrissu about removing Benit Pallestride as the Lord Representative.
The two humans were in their middle years, one male and the other female, not significantly younger than Benit himself—at least, not as far as Adrissu was concerned. They had been the Lord Representative’s two chosen advisors for the past decade or so—the two that Benit appointed, when he took the position almost thirty years ago, had long since died.
Much as Adrissu liked to think he was difficult to surprise, the proposition did take him aback. He looked silently between the two humans for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before speaking.
“And who do you propose to take his place?” he asked, noting the tension that grew in the man’s—Varold’s—eyebrows at the question. “I do not care about Benit one way or the other, but unless the laws of the Federation have significantly changed very recently, someone would need to take his place quickly. One of you?”
“No,” the woman, Maeve, interjected quickly, before Varold could answer. “Actually, headmaster, we wanted you to take his place.”
Adrissu laughed bitterly, covering his mouth with one hand. “No, thank you. If you knew anything about me, you’d know I have no interest in the position. I was offered it myself when Autreth first conquered Polimnos, and I have less civic ambition now than I did then.”
“As I told you,” Varold grumbled, shooting Maeve a dirty look, but the woman seemed undeterred.
“Then at least help us remove Benit from the picture,” she said. “If not you, perhaps someone with your endorsement.”
“What has Benit done that is so egregious you want to remove himnow?” Adrissu asked. It would have made more sense if one of them had wanted the position for themselves; perhaps they had only offered it to him out of some misguided flattery. Otherwise, he could not surmise their intentions.
The two humans glanced at each other, then Maeve spoke again.
“He’s been pocketing city funds for his own purposes,” she said in a low voice, as if some invisible assailant might be eavesdropping on them. “That’s why taxes went up two years ago. It was no decree of Autreth, but his own.”
Thattook him by surprise, though he supposed that he should not be shocked. With their short little lives, humans were too ambitious for their own good and seemed to have no qualms about harming other humans to make their own existence even a fraction more comfortable. Adrissu bit his lower lip, considering.
“Why not simply expose his wrongdoing to the Lord’s Council?” Adrissu finally asked. “Let the Federation handle it.”
Again the humans shared a look, then Maeve nodded, and Varold turned to him.
“We do not want to get anyone in Gennemont, or the rest of Autreth, involved,” he said slowly. “We’d... like to form a city council separate from the office of Lord Representative, but having the scrutiny of Autreth on us for an investigation into Benit would set back all our plans.”
Adrissu blanched. “So you propose rebellion? A bid of independence for Polimnos?”
“Not rebellion,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “We would still be part of the Federation. It would only be... an addition, so that one person does not hold so much power within the city.”
“What makes you think Autreth will accept such a thing? They certainly were against it when they came to conquer Polimnos,” Adrissu countered.
“Because Polimnos has power now that it didn’t have then,” Maeve said, before Varold could speak. “And that’s largely because of you, and your school.”
“Gennemont’s power has grown just as much,” Adrissu replied coolly, shaking his head. “Listen. I do not care what you do about Benit, or this new city council. But I don’t want to be involved. I’m not going to risk everything I’ve built up with the academy on something so... bull-headed.”
“Fine,” Maeve said abruptly. Varold shot her a dark look, but she ignored him. “We’ll figure something else out. And worst comes to worst, we can call for his... resignation. Or force his hand.”
