Dead Tired - Volume Four - Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

“My, you seem busy,” I said as I stepped into the Limpet’s office. 

The room had mostly been occupied by a nice des, some lamps, and a large seat, with a few tasteful but small bookcases to one side.

That was a week ago. At the moment, the room had transformed into the beating heart of what looked like an information-gathering centre. A few ghosts were idly floating from one table to another, carrying single pages or rolled-up scrolls which they were fitting into files or scroll-cubbies mounted to the walls.

The Limpet herself was looking... surprisingly un-frazzled behind her desk. “Master,” she said. “Ah, yes, I’m a little busy, at the moment. Did you need me for anything?”

“A few things, but now my curiosity had gotten the best of me. What are you working on?”

“Consolidation,” she said. “Or a rough, half-baked version of it.”

“Oh?” I asked. “So we could say that you’re getting your things together?”

“Something like that,” she said. Then she started to point. “That pile is the laws and regulations of Lava Fist City.” The pile in question was rather small. “That one is for Shitake.” A much larger pile, with several folders around it. “Over there is Seven Hills.” the largest of the piles. “And that’s Opalhorn.” Another small pile.

“And with Yu Xiang, that would make up the five cities of your fledgling empire,” I said.

“Exactly,” she replied with a nod. “Under the rule of the Jade Throne, every province had its own set of guiding laws, and under those, each city could have their own, additional laws, as written by their magistrate and local sect. The only golden rule for those was that no provincial law could contradict the laws of the Jane Throne, and no municipal law could contradict provincial laws.”

I hummed. “That makes some amount of sense.”

“Yes, only with a few hundred years to run things... everything is a bit of a mess. So I’ve asked some of the Death Butlers for help. They wrote the laws of Opalhorn, and they’re the cleanest we have. I’m going to try and basically void all of the other laws, replace them with something flexible and well-written and modern, then I want to distribute it and see what the reactions are.”

“Are you expecting negative reviews of your new laws?”

“No... well, yes, I guess people will complain no matter what, and I’m purposefully making a few things a bit tight so that I can loosen them later to make people happy, but no, it’s just a lot of work. The ghosts are helping.” the Limpet moved a lock of hair out of her face. “Anyway. Did you need help with anything, Master?”

“No, not really. Things seem to be advancing at a reasonable pace.”

“Things are moving fast,” the Limpet said. “Far faster than I expected, to be honest. The new city is basically done, the stadium looks ready, and we still have a few days to get everything in order. Do you think we can start opening the gates for teleportation soon?”

“As soon as right now, if you wish,” I said.

She paused for a moment, then stood up. “Okay. Can you give me an hour? I need to gather up a few people, but once that’s done, we might as well start. Only... we’ll limit it to the gates within our empire for now?”

“That seems reasonable. You’ll give the locals first choice?”

“Yeah. And if something goes wrong, or we need to work out logistical kinks, I’d rather do it with people that are from around here. They have a vested interest in this working, and hopefully a bit more patience. Plus, I want to see people from across the empire working together. It’ll prove that they’re all on the same side.”

My, what a determined little empress. 

The Limpet packed up a few things, then we were off.

I had thought that we might walk all the way to New Xiang, or take a carriage, or perhaps the Limpet would ask to teleport over, but instead we made our way to the centre of the city, not too far from the sect building-turned-castle that was our headquarters in the city. 

There, we found a dozen carriages with undead horses and pack animals at their heads, with smaller skeletons riding behind to guide them. The Limpet moved to one of these and told the little undead to head to the New Xiang gate staging ground, then she scrambled into the carriage where I followed her.

The undead manning these were the smaller skeletons at our disposal. Unfortunately, one was sometimes given bodies of less impressive stature to work with, and when it came to undead armies, it was often nice to have a certain amount of uniformity. The exceptionally tall and short were, therefore, sometimes a little lost. Unless one had even a hint of creativity, of course.

“Seventeen had some spare time, somehow, and we set up a public transportation system,” the Limpet said. “For now it’s free. At least until the tournament is done. If we keep it after that, we might charge a little, for upkeep. We had to buy the carriages we’re using, though a few of them came from the sect.”

Ah, that would explain the level of ostentatiousness in this one. I found it rather garish, but it was serviceable enough.

We rode out of the city, then towards New Xiang. Once we reached the newer roads, the ride became far smoother. In short order, the cart was pulling into the large area where the portal network’s heart was going to be.

So far, only a few of the portal buildings had been built, but crews of undead were moving materials around and I imagined that the rest would be up and in working order shortly. 

“So, Master, this portal spell, is it something I’ll be able to cast soon?” the Limpet asked.

“No.”

The Limpet blinked. “No?”

“It’s a ninth-level spell. Mind, this is a modified version, simplified and made to last far longer than the usual, so perhaps one could argue that it is merely as complex as an eight level spell, but even that is beyond the purview of a warlock.”

“Oh. And I’m that?” 

“A warlock? Yes, it seems that way,” I said. “You might be able to cast a spell of this level of complication, but only with the assistance of the person you’re bonded through. At that point, I might as well just cast whatever I want myself.” I shook my head. How absurd was it to be a warlock. Borrowing power? Who would want to subject themselves to that? Borrowing implied interest, and I didn’t want anyone interested in what I did, thank-you-very-much.

I stepped out of the carriage, the Limpet following behind. I nodded to the site foreman, one of the Death Butlers from Opalhorn wearing a bright chartreuse vest over his butlery garments. The butler made his way over, bowing smartly. “Father of Bones,” he said. 

“Good afternoon,” I replied. “Seems like things are progressing well so far?”

“Indeed,” the forebutler said. “At our current pace, barring any delays, the site should be fully operational within a day and a half.”

“Fantastic. Unfortunately, I’m here to bring delays.”

The butler paused, then bowed shallowly. “As you say. Are we changing the plans?”

“Not quite. We’re opening some of the portals a little earlier than expected.”

“Ah, we can always wait?” the Limpet offered.

“No, no, I’m here already. And I think that the cultural impact of an early opening in our own territories isn’t to be underestimated,” I said. I glanced over the already-established portal buildings.

Each one was a boxy, rather brutalist building. They were basically angled rectangles, hollow on the inside, with a tall, tapered roof with small square holes along the edges to allow some natural light to pour in. 

They were rough, unfinished, and still smelled a little powdery, but I rather liked them. Solid, unpretentious little boxes that would reshape the world with a single spell (well, technically sixteen single spells). 

It was always the unassuming structures that did the most damage. No one feared a library until it was too late.

“These will do,” I said. I stepped toward the closest building, brushing past a pair of skeletons who moved aside with haste. Inside, the air was cool, the floor swept free of dust, and the workers had left a small dais of heavy granite in the very center, precisely where I would have asked for one. How considerate.

The Limpet followed at my side. “Is there anything I should do?”

“Observe. Ask questions. Try not to interrupt if something is on fire.”

“This spell can catch fire?”

“Limpet, every spell worth its diamond dust ought to be able to catch fire. It’s not proper magic if there’s no risk to it!”

***