Chapter 8

As the second largest church in the fourth fife, the grounds were kept with meticulous care. From the rank of novice initiate to the common priest the cleaning and gardening was everyone’s responsibility. The church was set in the center of town with roads leading in the four cardinal directions. From the sky, it would appear as if the roads continued straight through the church it self, dividing it into quadrants that centered on the courtyard. Severely geometric in the way straight corridors cut the large quadrants into smaller rectangular areas, the only relief from the sharp angles came from the garden retreat. The working areas of the church were cold stone and wide square windows, but the plants in the garden were only lightly pruned. This nourished the beautifully organic shapes that put the mind at ease. With the stars as its only ceiling, small oil lamps hung in strategic places to highlight the night blooming flowers. The grass was kept lush and green during the warmer months. Some areas of the church may be off limits to the local populace but the garden was not one of them. The quiet serenity was known to lull the most unruly babies to sleep and it was therefore popular amongst mothers.

His hands shoved deep into his trouser pockets, Aiden avoided the gardens at all cost. Taking twice as long, he walked all the way around the area to reach the clothier. It was almost noon and with the spring temperatures there would be many families enjoying a picnic on the many tables provided by the church. The Abbot’s threats lingered in his mind like a filth he couldn’t wash off. He would not go anywhere near a place where someone might recognize him. It was too risky.

A flash of color out of the corner of his eye pulled him from his dark thoughts, although it did not dispel the mood. He turned just in time to see a short priest stepping out of the clothier’s room.

“I’ll ‘ave it by tomarrah, love!” A sweet female’s voice chased the priest into the hallway. The man flushed and waved, before walking on.

Fishing the parchment scrap out from his pocket, Aiden entered the room. Judging by the muted priest’s garments, the bolts of brilliantly colored cloth was not what he had expected to find. Wall to wall, folded yards of fabric from the un-dyed wool bought locally to the more exotic imports, there was cloth everywhere. Bins of scraped and cured hides sorted by shades lined up underneath the long wooden counter. Behind the counter, a woman held up two long swaths of brown fabric to the large open window, her head cocked to the left and then to the right as if she were trying to decide something. Not wanting to be rude, Aiden cleared his throat intentionally.

“Hmm?” The woman seemed to hum more than actually respond to him. She swiveled on the chair, a wide smile overtaking her small face. “Which do ya think hon?” The cloth fluttered down onto the countertop.

Aiden stared first at her and then at the samples. They both looked brown to him. “Uh, that one.” He pointed to the right.

“Oh no, no, no…” She made a sharp ticking noise while shaking her head. “Couldn’t possibly wit ‘is skin color.” The matter decided, she put the cloth away and smiled at him again. “But that’s what they got me fer, now in it? What can I do fer ya?”

He tossed the parchment down and waited for her to read it. The woman seemed out of place, showing no outward signs of her rank in the church. “You a priest?” He ventured as she read the note carefully.

Her head shook, sending the little brown curls jostling about her face. “Me? Hah! I’ve no desire tae be anythin or anywhere but in here sewin. The Abbot himself hired me out from Dulan.” She smiled again, proudly gesturing to the cramped room.

“Dulan?” Aiden asked, the name completely unfamiliar.

“That be in the second fife, ya know. Near the mountains.”

“I see.” He responded, wondering if perhaps all Dulan people spoke with her lilting accent.

Outside, the church’s bells bellowed through the hallway, signaling for noon mass. She uncrossed her legs and hopped down from her stool. The countertop seemed to engulf her diminutive form as her elbows barely cleared it. He stood well above the structure, feeling very tall next to her.

“A mask it be then, but not red?” Her hand reached up and tugged at one of her short curls. “I donna have any other colors already made. Hmm… Black will have to do fer ya then. Just what do ya need a special mask for anyway?” She glanced up at him as she picked through a low shelf packed with jars of dye.

Nice as she may have been, Aiden kept his silence and met her inquiring gaze. Divulging as little as possible about his mission was the key to survival. After a moment she seemed to get the point, her friendliness fading noticeably.

“Whatever it be then, try these on an tell me what fit ya.” Her tone had become brisk as she tossed a few masks onto the countertop and went back to sorting through the dyes. “Don’tcha sneeze or cough into them either or that be the one ya get. I don’t have the time ta be remaking a new fit.”

Aiden picked up the first, his fingers running along the inner ridge that acted as a buffer between the leather and his skin. Inside the mask had been lined with a durable cotton and he could see where the ridge separated and allowed for the liner to be removed for cleaning. So carefully blended into the smooth surface, it was impossible to determine where the slanted holes had been drilled. Only by holding it up to the light did he see how the openings had been strategically placed for optimal air flow. One after another he tried on the masks, tightening the cotton loops around his ear in order to find that perfect fit.

“Well?” She demanded, coming back to the counter with a pot in hand. “Which one Protect-I mean, sir?” She had a smug look on her face, as if she had let it slip that she knew why he was getting a mask.

Aiden scowled from behind the leather and took it off. “This one is the best.” The idea of being associated with the Protectors was unsettling. The church’s secret specially trained watchdogs, the Protectors were used to quell rebellions and turn the tide of battles. The masks they wore came only in red to both identify them and hide their true identity. With a history of brutality and cold-blooded executioner tactics, the populace had good reason to fear them.

She held out her hand for the mask and he leaned over the counter. “I am not one of them, I assure you.” Her eyes rolled in a disbelieving manner and waved her hand dismissively.

“Come back in an hour.”

Aiden sighed, feeling very tired of the constant animosity. For a church that worshiped a merciful goddess, the inhabitants were often too wrapped up in their own affairs to lend some of that kindness to those who needed it. Hoping that his next stop would be less irritating, Aiden headed toward the nearby staircase and ascended to the second and uppermost floor.

This level was lined with opened windows to allow the cool winds funnel in and down throughout the complex. Interspersed were closed and unmarked doors. He was hesitant to walk up to the first door and bang on it until someone answered. Beyond being a rude act, he felt the need to keep a low profile.

By chance, an acolyte turned the corner sharply and came rushing toward the stairway. “Excuse me.” He intercepted the acolyte and the young woman looked up at him, with her features pinched and agitated.

“Are you even allowed up here?” The acolyte demanded.

His mood soured further. When would the accusations end? “Yes, I’m allowed up here. I’ve been sent to speak with the Chemist, but I don’t know where his quarters are beyond the second floor. So if you could cut out the attitude and point me in the right direction, I would be grateful.”

The acolyte drew herself up with indignation but she held her tongue. “The Chemist is down the hall to the left. His door is marked with a carved ‘C’. I assume you know what a ‘C’ looks like?” She looked down her nose at him and he resisted the urge to reach out and strangle her.

“I can read, since that is what you are asking.” He replied through tightly clenched teeth.

“Good day to you then.” The girl strode past him without looking back.
“Goddamn priests.” He muttered under his breath.

The Chemist’s door was only a short walk from the stairway and Aiden did not hesitate to abuse the wood with his fist. He paced outside, ruminating over his frustrating encounter with the Abbot. How much more would have to sacrifice in order to keep his family safe?

His arm propped up against the wall, Aiden leaned in close, straining to hear anything beyond the oak door. Alone in the hallway, he raised his voice to whomever occupied the room. “Excuse me—,” the rest of the sentence choked off into silence as a wave of nausea rolled over him. His eyes clamped shut and he let his head hang low. All he could do was take short gasping breaths. Unable to think, he couldn’t judge how long it was before the door creaked and swung open.

“Can I help you?” A muffled male voice greeted him. Someone’s arm clasped around his shoulders and Aiden was helped into the Chemist’s laboratory. “Here now lad, take it easy.”

A strong mint smell penetrated his nose and he cracked his eyes open. The sickness faded rapidly and he began to take normal breaths again. “What was that?” He whispered to himself.

“That’s what I was wondering myself.” The muffled reply grabbed his attention and Aiden looked up at the tall man standing no more than a foot away. He couldn’t help but stare.

The man wore long gloves, like the ones you would expect to see on a lady dressed for the Noble’s Ball, but in the place of fabric was what appeared to be fine goatskin. Picking up where the gloves left off, his shirt sleeves had been rolled back to the elbows while the shirt itself was tucked into his trousers. Unusual attire for a priest, Aiden had expected some sort of robe. What kept him staring though was the man’s face, or rather, the lack of one. A porcelain mask covered his features completely. The surface had been carved to resemble a slight smile, as if the man was eternally at peace with himself.

Aiden shook his head, feeling very rude. “Um, Sorry… I’m looking for the Chemist.” He forced himself to look elsewhere. “Do you know where I can find him?”

The man’s chuckle carried out from behind the mask and Aiden found himself smiling in return. There was something about this priest that put him at ease. “Of course I do.” His hands went out to the sides. “The Chemist would be what they call me for the work I do here. Now that you know who I am, perhaps you will return the favor?”

“Oh, yes of course.” Aiden grinned, standing as he extended his hand. “Ai-Alden” He said, almost forgetting to use his other persona. “What work is it that you do anyway? Forgive my ignorance, I’ve just never heard of a chemist before.”

“Then I am delighted to be the one to tell you! I am something of a researcher and botanist rolled into one. When the botanists stop at preparing salves and such for wounds; I continue on by applying heat to the solutions. My goal is find stronger and faster working medicines so that we can heal people better.”

Moving aside, he allowed Aiden to see the complex network of tubes and beakers that boiled quietly on the working table. The items on the table were arranged neatly and as Aiden looked around the rest of the room; he gathered a sense of order to this place. A fastidious man himself, Aiden felt he could be comfortable here.

Aiden took a closer look at the experiments in progress. He may trouble comprehending the complex network of tubes and wires, but he could certainly appreciate the close attention to detail required. Behind him, the door opened a crack and he could just see the long braids of the Chemist’s latest visitor.

“Excuse me a moment, Alden.”

Aiden simply nodded. As he moved from one end to another, the contents changed from the large experiment in progress to the square trays that held spare parts and lastly to what seemed to be an unfinished setup. That interested him the most. The Chemist did not strike him as the type of man to abandon a project for any reason.

A circular and shallow dish holding what could have been water lay directly beneath a small wire tube stand. Behind that, a wooden block had been carved out to hold glass testing tubes and all were empty but one. Curiosity pulled at him and Aiden plucked the tube from its holding position. Turning it from side to side slightly, the grey viscous fluid coated the sides of its container. So engrossed with the substance, he didn’t hear the door shut.

“By the goddess man, put that back!” The Chemist shrieked, rushing to the table, his hands wringing nervously as Aiden set the tube back into its wooden post. “Move away from here, you could have killed yourself! Don’t you know to stay away from unknown solutions?” He demanded, berating Aiden sternly.

Feeling sheepish, Aiden did as he was bid. “What is that stuff anyway?” He ventured as the Chemist checked the stability of the containers.

He received the closest thing that a man with no facial expressions could get to a glare for an answer. Soon though the man’s resolve broke and he reluctantly answered. “The grey fluid is (something), and it is stable when combined with most other substances. This,” He tapped the table near the dish. “Is (something), a good base liquid for most salves and balms. However when combined the two have an explosive reaction.”

Aiden shifted on his feet, not quite understanding why a man who specialized in medicines was researching explosives. Just as he was about to ask, the Chemist provided his answer.

“Now why would I care for a thing like that, hmm?” He glanced back to see Aiden’s shrug. “I’ve found that when the reaction occurs it produces a residue which, when broken down further, can be made into a wonderful corrosive and corrosives have many practical applications. I think that if I can get the ratio correct, the substance will forgo the reaction and simply produce the corrosive. So far however, too little does nothing and equal portions create such a violent eruption that it shakes the whole second floor.” He chuckled to himself at the amusing memory.

“Can’t you.. contain it?” Aiden prodded.

“Well of course, that is what this blast glass is for.” He lifted up the table’s draping cloth and revealed a thick rectangular box made to fit over the ceramic plate. “I received that just yesterday however.”

“(something) and (something) don’t mix, got it.” Aiden said, observing the rest of the room in an attempt to steer the conversation back to what he was there for. Just as he was about to inquire about the oil, a familiar snuffling sound crept to his ears. In one of the darkened corners of the room, he could just make out the flash of metal mesh. The longer he heard it, the more convinced he was of the sound. He made a beeline for the corner finding a tall and slender wire cage, big enough for a man to stand inside.

“Ah, watch your fingers.” The Chemist’s strange warning made Aiden pause in mid-stride. Ignoring the chemist’s warning, he searched within the cage and could just make out a huddled form. Faster than he was able to react, the form lunge toward him. *BANG!*, the cage shuddered from the contact. Inside, the clouded eyes of a plague victim stared at him. Its mouth chewed on something and when its lips drew back, pieces of what must have been a cockroach dribbled down its chin. Claw-like fingers with razor sharp points at the end jabbed through the wire mesh and it shook the metal violently.

Aiden knew what those fingers meant and suddenly the source of the nausea became disturbingly clear. The Chemist had a pet lich. Here? His mind raced angrily for answers. In here where it can break out and ravage this whole place? He must not know what he is dealing with!

“Ahh I see Albert is awake again. For a while there I thought he was going to be a good little boy and sit quietly while we chatted.” The Chemist shrugged, thinking nothing of the dangerous growling that came from within the cage.

“I didn’t know they slept.” Aiden sneered, hitting his palm against the cage and gaining some satisfaction as the thing inside shrank from him. Now it was the Chemist’s turn to feel the extent of his anger. “What kind of sick game are you playing here?” Aiden’s voice had deepened as his temper wriggled out of control. “I guess it’s not bad enough for you that these things are out there killing people. Now you want to give it a whole playground with lots of priests to destroy.”

“Please let me explain…” The man tried to say.

Aiden’s lip curled in disgust. “You don’t even know what this is, do you? It’s a goddamned lich!” He answered his own question, railroading onto his next point. “Get another undead within a mile of it and you’ve got a serious problem on your hands.” He spat the words, his hands gesturing toward the cage and then the door leading out with tight movements. And if those infected priests get out, they have the whole of Fairweather as a hunting ground.

The Chemist seemed to take a new assessment of him. The friendly mask remained but his posture had straightened and his arms had uncrossed. “My dear Alden, I did not know you were so familiar with these poor souls. Just where did you come into contact with another like that one?”

His glare could have shattered glass. “It doesn’t bloody matter where I know it from. The point is that it isn’t you who will suffer. Hell, that thing will probably just kill you outright. The others though won’t have it so easy.”

“I am surprised that you would think of me as so irresponsible when you have only just met me. Did I not tell you that I was working on medicine in my research?”

“What’s your point?” Aiden interrupted.

The Chemist held his hands with palms facing outwardly, asking for a moment to state his peace. “Think, Alden. How am I to figure out what that turns people into these monsters if I do not have a specimen with fresh samples? I am trying to discover the source of this disease and then hopefully a cure.” He sighed from behind the mask, sounding as though he was growing tired of explaining himself. Aiden was sure that he was not the first to voice such opinions.

“And consider please that the wards placed around the cage are both inside and out and checked every day to ensure stability. If the metal did break apart, the monster would still not be able to leave confinement. Really the cage is just there to give it something to do while I work on breaking down its organic fluids.”

The seals, Aiden had forgotten completely about the potent effects of the seal against the undead creatures. A warding seal was placed in the corners of entrances and exits, linked together to create an invisible barrier to the undead. The origins of the wards were a closely guarded secret of the church and none but select priests could learn the art.

Rumors of a clandestine sect of priests circulated often when conflict was on the horizon. It was said that those priests understood the warding seals better than any other and had been able to reverse the effects of them to be used against anyone. These shadow priests had never been proven to exist, but there was always the hint of truth to any myth.

You idiot. Aiden berated himself. Of course they already knew all of that. Who are you to think you can tell these guys how to handle the situation just because you’ve come into contact with a few dead walkers. He sighed and started to apologize when the Chemist stopped him with a raised hand.

“Your concerns are both valid and surprising. I have met few people who could correctly identify the undead in there. Tell me, how did you know?”

Aiden shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Every few moments the lich would move and he glanced at it. After a while it seemed as though it only moved when he looked away, like the beast was toying with him! He could only glare at it while he answered. “I’ve come across a couple of these things now. The ones that can talk are the ones that control the others.”

“But how did you know that was what it was? It hasn’t spoken yet.” The Chemist pressed.

Aiden shrugged, thinking it better to demonstrate his point than simply state it. He took of his pack and withdrew a long piece of dried beef. “Here you go, you disgusting little maggot.” He shoved the beef halfway into the mesh and held on as the lich seized it and pulled. Showing an amazing amount of strength, Aiden was forced to use both hands as he forced the creature’s fingertips into view.

“See those? The fingers how their just bones with no flesh at all?”

“I’ve seen others like that…” The Chemist argued.

“Sure but look how the bones taper to points. None of the other ones I’ve seen have those kind of weapons. Besides,” He released the jerky, letting the beast have it. “Bones that thin shouldn’t be able to be sharpened like that. I don’t know how they do it but the last two I’ve seen both had the same type of hands.”

It was impossible to tell the Chemist’s reaction to his information. His voice had gone carefully neutral as though he tried to hide any emotion. “And you’re sure those others were liches”

Aiden nodded. There was no doubt in his mind. “They both spoke.”

The Chemist seemed to grow more interested. He invited Aiden to sit at the small dining table set alongside the far wall away from the cage. “Please, tell me what they said to you.” He retrieved a bound stack of parchment papers and flipped to a clean page.

Concerned about revealing any more of his encounter, he dragged a hand through his hair and shrugged. “Really I don’t remember much, I was knocked out shortly after seeing the first one and the second I ran as fast as I could in the other direction.” He gave a nervous chuckle. “The only thing I can recall hearing is something about submitting to it. Other than that, the damn things can’t talk very well, but they did try to say something I guess.”

The Chemist’s unwavering stare pinned him and Aiden had a feeling he wouldn’t get away so easily. The man was after the truth behind the plague and that meant gathering every possible clue. Aiden was unhappy about having to hide the rest of the details but he figured that if they were pertinent, the Abbot would probably share them with the man doing all the research.

“Look I’ve got to get going. I’ve got this thing to do and I can’t be late.” Aiden mumbled the excuse, standing quickly and going for his pack.

“Of course.” The Chemist agreed. “Alden?”

Aiden shouldered the pack and avoided meeting the man’s eyes.

“I am sorry that monster in the corner startled you earlier. I know these days are hard on the good folk outside of these walls, but I assure you we are looking for the cure and that we will find it soon.” He offered his gloved hand in farewell and Aiden took it.

“I hope that you do.” Aiden responded quietly, finally looking up at the man. “I’ve got a family who’s counting on you to succeed. If the plague spreads any further south…” He let the notion hang in the air. The biggest town to the south was the one he was standing in at the moment. Fairweather boasted four times the amount of people that Haybridge had. The chaos would be unimaginable.

There was nothing else to say on the subject and the Chemist simply nodded to acknowledge Aiden’s plea. “I haven’t let you speak yet on why you came to my door in the first place.”

Surprised by the question, it took Aiden a moment to figure out exactly why he had come as well. “Oil,” he answered. “I need the kind of oil used in the sconces for this project I’m working on for the church. I have authorization here,” He dug through his pockets, looking for the scrap of paper. “Just a moment, okay?”

“That’s quite alright, Alden. I trust your word.”

Out of all the encounters he had been subjected to today, this one was leaving him with a smile. The man in front of him seemed to regard him as an equal and it had been a long while since someone had used the word ‘trust’ in regards to him.

“The oil we use is not stocked here. A time ago there was a fire in the armory where we did store it and it took almost a week for the flames to burn out. Since then we have made an arrangement with a local dealer in town who brings in a weekly supply for our use.” The Chemist picked up a small scroll from a bin of similar scrolls and handed it to Aiden. “Here, I give these to my assistant so that she may pick up bottles of oil in my name. I go through oil regularly so the dealer will not think much of you taking some.”

Aiden was speechless for a moment. He took the scroll with numb fingers and nodded. “I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no trouble really. If you come across anymore liches, Alden, just use the oil and light them up. It’s the most effective way to get rid of the undead.”

Aiden grinned and said his goodbye, stepping back out into the church’s cold corridor. Robed people walked by, looking at him curiously but no one bothered him further.