The place in which the transformation would take place was in the same High Mages offices. She and Kaaldar were led to a small room in the back. There was no sign of the inquisitor. Instead, two other people, also in black robes, were present. One, a slender woman with severe eyes, was a cleric. ''Good, if I die, she can resurrect me,'' Chloe thought, oddly comforted. The other, a man with the odd distinction of having black hair (most inkies have white hair), bore a perpetually leering expression. He was the 'High Necromancer'. She shuddered a little at that knowledge. Having had no experience with them, necromancers still gave her the creeps. ''Especially when they wear a face of constant lust,'' she thought.
Still, she was willing for whatever lay ahead of her. Necro-man handed her a dark gray plain robe. ''Get undressed and put this on,'' he said, smiling.
''Go! If you think I will undress while you're around, you've got another think coming!'' One of his leering eyes winked. ''Oh, you can't blame a guy for hoping,'' he smiled, and then slinked off to another room.
Chloe carefully removed her garments and gave them to Kaaldar to hold. He would sit beside her while she lay on a narrow rectangular table. The gray robe smelled funny. No doubt, it had been used by many apprentic necromancers before being retired from that use. ''Hrumph, things could be worse, I suppose.'' Clad in the disagreeably smelly robe, she called out to the two mages, ''I'm dressed!''
Just the faintest quiver of nervousness attended her. Okay, maybe a little more stronger than that. ''The cleric will be here. She looks to be a very capable woman of great confidence and skill . . . .''
Necro-man returned with a silver tray of equipment. She never saw such a constantly cheerful person. Somehow, it unnerved her.
She was told to lay down on the table and she did as she was told. The priestess came to one side of the table and the necro to the other. The priestess softly spoke in words she did not understand, but they sounded soothing just the same.
Chloe found herself becoming increasingly tranquil. The priestess's violet eyes were no longer severe, but very gentle. Chloe decided to focus on her and not on what the necro was doing. Her breathing became so even and regular. She felt so lightweight.
Chloe was barely aware of a prick to her left arm.
The priestess kept chanting her wonderful words' ''In N'la way ha. In N'la way hum-m-m-m. In N'la way ha. In N'la way hum-m-m-m . . . ''
Another sharp prick. A burning. Chloe was distinctly aware of an increasing burning throughout her whole body. It was so hot, HOT, great heat. She felt as though the blood in her veins were boiling and the marrow in her bones were twisting and turning.
The priestess kept chanting softly. Chloe fixed her attention on those lovely words. The burning increased until her whole body was racked with pain. Surely, she would be destroyed by the great flames. ''Surely . . . .''
She felt some healing come from an odd source, like it was being channeled into her. Cooling, it was cooling, so cooling.
The flame, and then the cooling. ''We're almost done for now,'' the priestness said in a language she could understand. The priestess was beautiful. She wanted to kiss her. Or was it just relief?
''Over . . . .'' She lay there, exhausted, trembling. Another influx of energy came, with relief. She'd gotten through it.
''Report next week at the same time,'' Necro-man said, with a hint of small victory in his voice.
Kaaldar gently led her home and put her to bed. She fell rapidly asleep and slept and slept and slept.
She slept deeply, mostly without dreams. She had no idea how long she'd slept. Chloe woke groggily to Kaaldar's soft whispers, ''It's your Mother on the farspeaker! Do you want to talk to her?''
''Damnable Gnomish invention! Tell her I'm sleeping!'' Chloe shouted with irritation. ''But you have been sleeping for four days now. This is the fifth time she's called!''