The Heart of Alchemy by James Wisher (e book reading free TXT) 📕

Otto nodded and settled in for what he hoped would be a boring trip north.

Chapter 37

True to Jet’s prediction, the few people they encountered on the journey north took one look at Otto’s disguise and immediately looked away. Entry into the city had also gone off without a hitch. Otto listened to the whole process from his hiding spot and as best he could determine from the muffled voices, the guards were more interested in Jet herself than her cargo. Nothing like the combination of lust and overconfidence to make a person lax.

On the downside, Jet deemed it wise for him to stay out of sight until they reached her warehouse, a building that also served as the base for Astaroth’s cult in the city.

At least the road was smooth. If he’d had to bounce through potholes while stuck in the secret compartment, that would have really been unpleasant. As it was he merely had to deal with heat, stale air, and stiff muscles.

At last they stopped and Jet said, “We’re here.”

The crates were shifted and the secret compartment opened. Otto sat up and sucked in a great lungful of fresh air. Or reasonably fresh air. Smoke and stink battled to offend his nose more. Even for someone used to the foundries of Garen, the smell of Celestial City was a lot to take in.

“I take it you’ve noticed the unique odor of our capital,” Jet said. “You can thank the alchemists. They are constantly experimenting, trying to come up with something to catch their lords’ gaze and elevate themselves in the alchemists’ hierarchy.”

She said it with disgust in her voice, but he couldn’t see how their actions were any different than members of any other group jockeying for favor. Even Jet was trying to better her position in the cult. Otto forbore comment on her hypocrisy. She would be neither the first nor the last to lie to herself about her motives.

Instead Otto looked around at the stacks of crates. There was nothing here resembling living quarters. After his time on the road, he badly needed a bath, some decent food, and a good night’s sleep.

“I assume you have an actual temple or something nearby,” Otto said.

“Of course.” Jet crooked her finger. “Follow me.”

The two of them moved deeper into the warehouse while the guards remained behind and a pair of burly laborers busied themselves with moving the crates. Jet led him to the right rear of the building and stomped twice on the floor.

A hidden door slid open and a man with wide open, unblinking eyes stared at them without seeming to see. From the glaze over his pupils and lack of breathing, Otto decided this must be his first encounter with a zombie.

“Back, slave!” Jet commanded.

The zombie shuffled down the steps and squished into an alcove to allow them to pass. At the bottom of the steps, Otto started to conjure a light, but before the spell activated, torches burst to life with an eerie green flame. Corruption swirled around the lights and put a queasy twist into Otto’s guts.

An effort of will formed a shield of pure ether around him and cut off the nasty feeling. If Jet felt any discomfort, she didn’t show it. Perhaps having pledged herself to the demon lord, she was no longer troubled by the unnatural energy. Either that or she’d just gotten used to it.

She led him down a stone tunnel that looked carved rather than natural. Otto ran his fingers along the wall. Yes, this was definitely a hallway. He found crevices where the blocks fit together.

“Did you build this?” Otto asked.

“No.” Jet looked back at him. “The warehouse was built on the foundation of another building that burned during one of the purges years ago. We just took advantage of what was already here. It also connects to the building next door, which I own, so we have plenty of space. But I’m sure our leader is eager to meet you.”

Otto frowned. “I thought you were the leader of this cell.”

“No, I’m the face of the group. Our leader, well, he doesn’t blend with the living as well as Lady White. Meaning no offense of course. He understands that under the current circumstances, his remaining behind the scenes is best. Once Astaroth rules the empire, that will all change. And after all, the dead have nothing but time.”

Jet led him to another set of stairs down. Otto prepared himself to meet an undead creature considerably less pleasing to the eye than Lady White. Given his limited assets, Otto had no desire to offend his host.

At the bottom of the stairs, the corruption was so thick it took half his power to filter it out. Interestingly, it was all contained within the single large room that looked like a proper temple. There was an altar with a large bloodstain in the center, and two square pedestals that held green flames like the ones above.

A single figure stood behind the altar, his body draped in loose-fitting dark robes. A deep cowl hid his features. Jet offered a deep bow while Otto contented himself with a nod of respect. Damned if he’d kowtow to anyone, living or dead.

Scabrous, rotted hands reached up to pull the cowl down revealing a face ravaged by Otto knew not what. The entire left side was stripped down to the bone. Ragged bits of flesh marked the border between bone and skin.

“So,” the dead man said. “You are the assassin Lady White has sent us. I trust you can do what you claim.”

Otto bristled at the insult. “One, I am not an assassin. I’m here for my own reasons. I agreed to help you in exchange for you helping me. Second, no one sends me anywhere.”

The fleshy part of the undead’s face tried to smile with limited success. “Finally, a human with iron in his spine. You and I will get along fine. My name is Marius and I bid you welcome