Two chambers lay beyond the archway, connected by doorways cut into the stone. Empty bookcases lined the walls of the first room, surrounding the fireplace in the southern wall. Jyx looked at the cold grate, and pictured flames dancing, casting their shadows across the floor. The fireplace was the first sign of real habitation in the house, and his heart leapt when he spotted a basket of firewood on the floor nearby.
“This will become your study as you become more adept. Each worker at the house collects their own library, and you will be expected to fill books with your observations and thoughts about all that you see and do. Supplies will be provided and if you work well, one day your own books will line these shelves,” said Eufame, gesturing to the bookcases. Jyx gasped at the idea that this would be his library, a collection of his very own.
“Indeed, Jyx. I also see you noticed the firewood. Feel free to light a fire should you choose to. I do not share your specific set of needs, but they will be catered to during your time here.”
The Wolfkin grunted and pointed at a velvet curtain in the corner. It crossed the room and lifted the swathe of fabric to reveal a large box. A ring of felt surrounded the hole in the top of the box, and a wooden rod hung from the ceiling on a length of chain. Eufame wrinkled her nose at the sight of it.
“That is the garderobe. I am given to understand that inhabitants of the Underground City deposit their waste into chamber pots, which are emptied out of the window. Is this correct?”
“Some people do. Some people have chutes in the house that lead to the sewers.”
“I see. Well this garderobe is plumbed into the sewer system, so you need only pull that chain when you are done. I will not have the purity of this house infected with abjection.”
Eufame swept out of the chamber and into the next room. Another fireplace took up part of a wall, back to back with its twin in the first room, and tapestries hung on the other walls. They depicted scenes of legend or myth, a far cry from the austere paintings on the walls elsewhere in the house. Mannequins in the corner held two changes of clothes, and an empty sarcophagus stood against the far wall.
“This will be your bedchamber. I received these tapestries from the Academy in order to better ease your transition.” Eufame pointed at the tapestries, although her downturned mouth and wrinkled nose suggested she didn’t approve of their frivolous content.
“Bedchamber?” Jyx looked around, eager to see a bed. His small pallet at home would be nothing compared to whatever palatial furniture Eufame provided. Hopefully it would be free of the fleas that infested the garret of his Underground City tenement.
Eufame smirked and gestured to the sarcophagus. Jyx stared, horror rising in the back of his throat as he thought of the last person to rest there.
“Oh do not look so surprised, Jyx. Consider where you are, and remember that there are many who would willingly donate limbs in order to sleep in the resting place of a king.”
“A king?”
“Yes. The great-great-great-great-grandfather of our brand new kingling, if I remember correctly. His dimensions most closely resemble yours, hence the choice of his coffin as your bed. Now come along, Jyx. We must get to work. These corpses will not raise themselves.”
Eufame left the room, and Jyx trotted after her. The Wolfkin waited for them in Jyx’s study, bringing up the rear as they headed back into the main Vault. Eufame walked along the central aisle towards the far end of the room, and stopped beside a red marble slab and its resident mummy. The bandages were dark yellow, spotted with brown, but a delicate diadem still encircled its skull.
“Meet Queen Neferpenthe. She’s one of our oldest, and she’s to be the jewel of the procession. She had magick of her own so we are to treat her very carefully.”
“How old is she?” asked Jyx. He stared at the moonstone set into the diadem, resting on the mummy’s forehead. The stone was larger than the crusts of bread he could expect for supper at home.
“I am unsure.” Eufame’s expression said otherwise but she clapped her hands and moved on. “Now how much do you know about necromancy?”
“Not as much as I’d like to. The Academy never talked about it, so I read bits and pieces in the library, but not all of it made sense, especially when I was translating things myself. Everyone acted like it was something we shouldn’t even mention.”
“That’s hardly surprising. Necromancy is considered the darkest of all dark arts. It involves calling beyond the veil, and commanding the spirit back to its body. The process is relatively simple for the newly dead, and many are only too happy to return. But the longer the spirit and the body are apart, the more difficult it becomes,” said Eufame.
“What do you need me to do?” asked Jyx. His mind flitted among the fragments of knowledge gleaned in the library. Perhaps Eufame would allow him to unwrap the mummy, or maybe he would be allowed to create the ritual circle.
“Sweep the floor.”
The Wolfkin stepped forward and thrust a broom into Jyx’s hand. Jyx stared down at the rough bristles and the handle worn smooth with use. It wasn’t even the ritual broom used to sweep psychic negativity from the circle; it was just a regular broom.
“Don’t look like that, Jyx. Everyone has to start somewhere. Now I suggest you start at the far end and make your way towards the spiral stairs.”
Eufame turned her back on Jyx and leaned over the mummy on the slab. Jyx scowled and jabbed at the floor with the broom. A heavy paw landed on his shoulder and guided him across the Vault. A claw appeared at the edge of his vision and pointed at the corner. Jyx turned around and stared up into the impassive face of the Wolfkin. Beyond, Eufame busied herself with Queen Neferpenthe, sliding a thin blade between the ancient bandages. Jyx looked down. Dust covered the floor around the slabs, settled in the cracks between the flat stones.
I could use a whirlwind charm.
“Jyx, I know what you’re thinking, but just use the broom,” said Eufame, not even looking up.
Jyx threw an evil look in the necromancer general’s direction, and stabbed at the floor with the broom.