Chapter 10: Incorporeal

Lilith was less fond of the catacombs now than she had been before. Mhenlo purged the plague from her a solid hour before it reached its final and fatal stage, but it turned out just getting close to dying was enough to turn her off from visiting the hallowed heart of necromantic knowledge. It's not as though she would ever be permitted to learn anything here.

She had spent most of the last week in the Abbey, where Mhenlo had put her to work mostly watching patients in case something went wrong while Mhenlo was busy with clerical duties or washing the blood off of things. Mhenlo had told her that he was entirely capable of whipping her until she was near dead, healing her up, and then handing her back over to Paulus as though nothing had happened if one of Mhenlo's patients died from infection because she hadn't washed something thoroughly enough, or put the dirty instruments where the clean ones were supposed to be, or happened to be in the same room when it happened. On the bright side, Mhenlo seemed to stop being irritated with her for nearly ten seconds when she told him that she had completed a year of schooling at Nolani Academy and did not need to be told why keeping surgical tools clean was a good idea.

Lilith had kept her staff. She wasn't allowed to even bring it into the same wing of the Abbey as the infirmary, but Mhenlo said he was not particularly concerned about the possibility of a witch with a single year of education trying to drain the life out of people in the same building as one of the most esteemed masters of life energy manipulation in the entire Kingdom of Ascalon, who also happened to be personal friends with the new captain of the Ashford Guard. “Feel free to attack whoever you like,” Mhenlo had said, “it's been so long since I've seen a good hanging.”

Paulus had actually thanked her for helping him retrieve the artifact. Sort of. “I wouldn't have made it back alive without you,” he had said. The gratitude was there, the thanks were implied.

“It's what I'm here for,” Lilith had responded. Lilith had very cautiously inquired if, seeing as how he fully intended her to use what witchcraft she had on his behalf, he would mind her learning any more of it. He had said he would look into finding some way for her to learn more, but then had not mentioned it again for the entire rest of the week. Lilith was now reasonably certain that he had looked into it, found it was too much trouble, and decided against bringing it up again.

Besides the part where she had nearly been killed, the last week had been the best thing to happen to Lilith in the entire year she had been a slave. The Abbey was nearly deserted. When Paulus wasn't patrolling with Devona, trying to keep the village safe from bandits and ever-bolder grawl raiders in light of their reduced force, he was usually training or studying, and in either case didn't pay much attention to her. Mhenlo was constantly stalking about and seemed irritated by the very fact that she existed, but then he also seemed irritated that the soldiers were still in their beds, that they were trying to leave those beds before fully healing, that they took up so many beds, that another one came in every few days from Devona's patrols and two or three of the beds would probably be occupied indefinitely, that Meerak didn't do more scribework, that the scribework Meerak did required so much revising, that Paulus hadn't gotten the artifact sooner, that Paulus refused to put it back where he found it when Mhenlo finished examining it, that the Abbey had so few healers, that the healers the Abbey had before were so incompetent, and really everything else, ever. Mhenlo did not speak often, but every single thing she had heard him say involved some kind of expression of irritation for the way things were, had been, or would be in the future.

It was a big Abbey, though, and avoiding Mhenlo was easy. He'd walk in the room, glare, and she'd either deliver whatever message she had from the infirmary or focus on cleaning things and usually he wouldn't bother saying anything at all to her. Despite his dire threat of what should happen if she should ever fail to do her job right, Mhenlo didn't feel the need to constantly reinforce that threat the way the Roblis family had. She had forgotten what it was like to not be afraid all the time.

Of course, now she was headed back down into the catacombs, staff clutched in her hands, and was reasonably certain that she was going to be afraid again in the very near future. Nothing's perfect. “So,” she ventured, “where are we going today?”

“To see a friend,” Paulus said.

“Is it dangerous, or am I just here to serve dinner or as a status symbol or something?” Lilith asked.

“Probably dangerous,” Paulus said, “you remember the woman who dragged our diseased bodies up into the Abbey for Mhenlo to heal?”

“Yes,” Lilith said.

“Well, we're going to go repay the favor,” Paulus said, “Her name is Munne, and she's a member of the necromantic order that keeps the undead threat contained to the catacombs. An ally of the Abbey, but not one of us. When she does something for us, we have to do something for her. Way it works down here.”

The trip was short. Munne lived just past the stairs into the catacombs, in a ruined chapel just to the side. She had restored a small section of it to live in, and it seemed a well-stocked and comfortable place to be. There were even enough holes in the roof of the chapel and the corridor outside that the place had enough natural light to go around.

The necromancer was drinking tea whilst sitting in one of the shafts of sunlight that shone down from above. “Paulus the Monk,” Munne said, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I'm here to repay the favor you've done me,” Paulus said, “I would have come sooner but I was needed with the Ashford Guard to help fend off some grawl. The surface has been quiet the past few days, so I'm free to fulfill my obligations below it.”

“Oh, good, I was beginning to worry you wouldn't be coming” Munne said, placing her teacup down on the table in front of her. “Care to join me?”

“Only if you don't mind,” Paulus said, “I came here to repay you a favor in the first place, after all.”

“It's fine,” she took one of the empty teacups on the tray, flipped it rightside up, and offered it to him. Paulus took it and sat down at the table, pouring himself a cup of the tea, still steaming hot. Lilith waited behind him. She might have quietly cursed Munne for daring to pass her up for a cup, once, but her recent attack of perspective told her to be grateful that she was as well-off as she was.

“Thank you,” Palus said, “but as I said earlier, I have come to repay the favor. The catacombs being what they are, I assume you have something a smiting monk might be able to help you with?”

Munne's eyes glanced upward in thought. “I'm sure I could think of something,” she said, “there's that skeleton horde brewing around the pit, but I think that might be Oberan's pet project and there's no need to provoke him. There's something going on in the old temple near the Green Hills County entrance, but someone else is already looking into it.”

“Sounds like the catacombs are quieter than normal,” Paulus said.

“Well, Oberan has been using his considerable abilities for something other than self-aggrandizement for once,” Munne said, thought a second, and then said “no, that's not true. He's using his considerable abilities for self-aggrandizement and for once that happens to include doing his actual job. I haven't seen the dark forces at the heart of this labyrinth so quiet...Well, ever.”

“Then you really don't have anything I could help with?” Paulus said, “I'm almost disappointed. I hate to let a debt go unpaid.”

“Well, that isn't entirely true. There's actually something going wrong quite near here, but there's not much you can do to help,” Munne said, “quite frankly, you're the problem in the first place and I do not think the spirits would appreciate seeing you again.”

Paulus grimaced. “Oh. Did I disturb something on my last expedition?”

“Yes. The departed spirits you lit on fire were rather disturbed by the experience,” Munne said.

“Those weren't evil spirits?” Paulus asked.

“Well, depending on how you define evil,” Munne said, “I'm sure all the people they killed in the Sect Wars wouldn't think much of them, but then, they fought that war so Thorn worshipers like us could drink tea in a haunted catacomb without fear of being terrorized. By the living.”

“Those were the departed spirits of Ascalonian soldiers,” Paulus said.

“Well, you didn't think it was coincidence that they all haunted shrines to fallen soldiers, did you?” Munne asked.

“I...Suppose I wasn't much thinking about it,” Paulus said, “I am not an expert in the dead, Necromancer Munne. I apologize.”

“Clearly not, or else you would have heard their terrified shrieks when you cut them down when they made known their irritation at our negligence,” Munne said, “unfortunately with the recent shipment of fresh new corpses from north of the Wall and my latest apprentice vanished into the labyrinth, I find I don't quite have time for every shrine anymore.”

“Your apprentice is gone?” Paulus asked.

“Yes, I suspect he ran into Oberan and was seduced by his deviant perspective,” Munne said, “I imagine Oberan will sacrifice him to some demon or other within a week or two.”

“Perhaps I can placate these spirits,” Paulus said, “I may not be able to hear or see them, but if you told me what they want I could do the legwork.”

“What they want is different each day,” Munne said, “the work of a grave watcher is to ask and then deliver. If you can't hear them, you wouldn't be much help.”

“I can hear them,” Lilith said.

Munne looked to her and raised an eyebrow. “She can,” Paulus said, “those shrieks you mentioned, at least. She mentioned it when last we were down here. Startled her a bit.”

“You can,” Munne said, “and did you hear anything else? Threats? Demands? Pleas for mercy?”

Lilith tried to remember if she had. She was terrified at the time, especially towards the end when the disease was taking hold. Maybe there was something faint she'd heard and ignored at the time...? But she knew that she was just trying fabricate a memory to make herself feel important, now. “No, miss,” she said, “just the screams.”

“Well, it's a start,” Munne said. She sat up from where she was seated and walked over to a cabinet, retrieving four candles from within it. “Here,” she said, handing them to Lilith, “there are four shrines along the Sect War corridor. Light one candle at each altar, and ask the spirits how you might placate their wrath. They may be angry, especially since you were with the one who hacked them to pieces. Do try to stay out of harm's way, but don't, whatever you do, don't harm them or their physical manifestations. If you do I can promise you a much more painful end than being hacked to pieces by angry spirits. Understand?”

“Yes, miss Munne,” Lilith said, wishing she had kept her mouth shut.

“Good,” Munne said, “you seem to be barely able to hear the spirits, so listen very carefully once the candle is lit.”

"Yes, miss Munne, but, uh..." Lilith trailed off.

"But what?" Munne asked.

"That's the corridor flooded with plague water, isn't it?" Lilith asked, "it'll kill me."

"And should I be particularly concerned if you die?" Munne asked.

"Well, I suppose not, but I'm not going to die after I'm done. I'm going to die halfway through," Lilith said, "then you'll have to do the rest yourself."

"True enough," Munne said, and considered a moment. She brushed a strand of Lilith's hair away from her face, and Lilith nearly flinched. "What's this?" she asked, trailing her fingers along the dark scar on Lilith's face.

"It's from a long time ago," Lilith said.

"That doesn't answer my question," Munne said.

"No, miss, I apologize. It's a witch glyph inscribed permanently into the skin. It makes it easier to commune with the dead and other creatures attuned with it," Lilith said, "it's not something I...I wasn't always a slave."

"You made it yourself?" Munne said.

"Yes, but I was allowed, back then," Lilith said.

"What I care about, girl, is do you have past experience working with the dead?" Munne asked.

"Well, no, but I studied," Lilith said.

Munne scrutinized her. "Then you are familiar with decorporealization?"

Normal people call it ghost walking, you pretentious bitch, Lilith thought, but said aloud "yes, miss, I am."

"Ever tried it before?" Munne asked.

"No," Lilith said.

"Then this will be a learning experience," Munne said, "lie down."

"Um. Okay," Lilith said, lowering herself to the floor. 

“What is this?” Munne asked, tapping the pendant still latched onto Lilith's chest, which, as ever, dug into her.

“A curse, miss,” Lilith said, “it just...Hurts. All the time.”

“Hm,” Munne said, hovering her hand over it, “good thing it's a simple one. Should be easy to work with.”

“Can you get rid of it?” Lilith asked.

“No, and I'm not the one here to do a favor, am I?” Munne asked. Lilith opened her mouth to respond, but Munne said “be quiet, girl, and empty your thoughts. Lilith lay still. She knew how to do this: She focused only on her breathing. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. It was a good thing the Academy taught this in the-Oh dammit, not supposed to be thinking, breathe in, what if Munne decided she wasn't good enough to-this was not helping, breathe out. Breathe in. But dammit it was so hard to not think when she was terrified and the pain in her chest was not helping.

“Relax,” Munne said, “I won't hurt you for having a crowded mind. If only because it would be counterproductive.”

It took another five minutes solid before Lilith managed to clear her mind properly. The hum of background noise, the cold stone beneath her, for a moment even the pendant drilling into her collarbone faded into a simple static, and for a time, she could feel blissful nothing. An inviting darkness guided her through reality, and when she opened her eyes, she found herself staring down at her own body.

“She's out,” Munne said, “she'll have to make do without the candles, I suppose. Can't carry them as a ghost.” Was Lilith's face really that badly damaged? And the rest of her hardly looked better. Her hair was growing stringy, her nose was still crooked from when Devona broke it last week, her skin had turned an angry red surrounding the pendant, and her clothes (if you could call them that) did not flatter her figure or make her look remotely respectable.

“Is she dead?” Paulus asked, and Lilith was again hit with the perspective that things could still be worse.

“No,” Munne said, “watch.” Munne pulled off one of the leather strips from her armor and whipped it across Lilith's shoulder. Lilith yelped and clutched at her ghostly shoulder while a welt started forming on her physical form, which stirred slightly. She could almost feel the stone beneath her again for a moment, but then it was gone and her body lay still again. “We can drag her back this way if we have to,” Munne said.

“I didn't even do anything wrong,” Lilith said, rubbing uselessly at her ghost shoulder. She couldn't actually feel her hand there anyway, and even the welt was fading faster than normal.

“You haven't done anything right, either,” Munne said, and Lilith jumped a foot in the air, and then discovered she didn't have anything in particular to bring her back down. “Of course I can see you,” Munne said, “talking to disembodied spirits is my job. Now listen, you won't have much luck with the candles, so you'll have to get their attention on your own. Your incorporeal form will protect you from the plague and should also make it easier to see the spirits. You've disturbed four altars. Calm the spirits at each of them and then return here.”

“Um, yes, miss, is that all?” Lilith asked.

“It is, get going,” Munne said.

“Wait,” Paulus said, grabbing the candles, “the first altar was outside the water, and I can make it to the second and back with plenty of time to spare. I'll light the candles for those two. The next you'll have to gather up on your own.”

“Thank you, sir,” Lilith said.

“He can't hear you,” Munne said, “you'll have to snuff the candle for him to let him know you've finished and are ready to move on. It's the first trick a ghost learns, I'm sure you'll figure it out. Now go.”

Lilith took an experimental step towards the wall, and found she could walk on air as easily as she could on land. Then she tried keeping her legs still and simply drifting straight through the wall, and found herself headed straight for it. She closed her eyes and braced for impact, but then she was on the other side and hadn't felt anything at all. Couldn't feel anything at all. Not the cold air, not the stone floor, and not the pendant, either.