by A. H. Lee
Candice spoke to the boy without taking her eyes from her father. “Mal, get out of here.”
“No.”
“That is an order.”
He grinned. His front teeth were very sharp. “The thing is, Candy, I don’t actually have to do what you say.” His voice went a little deeper on those words, and he changed. The boy dissolved into black smoke, reforming almost instantly into the largest leopard Roland had ever seen. He sprang upon Norres, his claws flashing across the man’s face in a spray of blood. As Norres began to scream, Roland heard the leopard murmur, “She had a secret, asshole. Just not the one you thought.”
Crunch.
Roland was propelled into the room by the rush of guards behind him. He caught sight of Marsden struggling to get through, cursing and shoving. The leopard stood over the body of the king, his jaws and whiskers crimson. He took a few lazy slaps at the circling guards. Then, to Roland’s horror, he whirled and fled into the mirror. “No!”
Sairis seemed just as surprised. He staggered back, but the demon kept running and disappeared past the edge of the glass.
Roland’s relief was short-lived. As Marsden charged into the room, Candice screamed and pointed to the mirror. “The necromancer! He brought a demon, and it has killed the king!”
Chapter 36. Leverage
Sairis knew he should have seen it coming. She really is too clever by half. Godsdamned sorcerers. Candice shot him a look that might have contained a shred of regret, before collapsing beside her father’s corpse in a fit of convincing tears. Sairis only had time to take one step backwards before Marsden’s binding spell hit him like a hammer.
The force of the blow sent Sairis to his knees. The university magicians might not have much skill with spirit-walking or negotiating with inhuman entities, but they were excellent at binding and killing. The spell was non-specific—a brute-force instrument that would have trapped any magician or magical creature for at least a few moments. It was intended to hold Sairis in place while further measures could be taken.
Sairis felt as though someone had filled all his limbs with lead. Each hand was a sandbag that weighed forty pounds, his fingers clumsy sausages. He could not have reached for a weapon, even if he’d had one. It was difficult to breathe, difficult to utter a spell, impossible to get a hand into a pocket or prick a finger for blood.
Panic washed over him. Not again. Never again.
Sairis stared at Marsden from hands and knees as the older magician approached the glass. Marsden was examining the mirror with magic while his acolytes began muttering spells in the room behind him. They were warding the space to seal it. Their spells would be reflected onto Sairis’s side of the glass. He had perhaps a minute to extricate himself before he was trapped here.
“Stop!” someone shouted. The voice seemed far away.
Marsden’s eyes locked with Sairis’s. They were blue, just a little darker than Roland’s. “Where is your body, necromancer?” murmured the older magician.
Sairis was breathing in short, sharp gasps. Even his lungs felt heavy. He didn’t try to speak.
“I can diffuse your spirit into the mirror maze,” said Marsden. “Wherever you are, you won’t wake up. Or you can tell me and you may live.”
“Let go of me,” hissed Sairis. Inside, he was drowning. He felt certain that his body was drenched in sweat on the floor of the tavern.
“Wrong answer,” said Marsden.
The breath left Sairis’s lungs, and he could not draw another. His body in the tavern was going to die because his spirit didn’t believe he could breathe, and he was panicking, panicking...
“Stop!” Roland grabbed Marsden by the shoulders and wrenched him back from the mirror. “Are you deaf?! I gave you an order! Stop!”
Marsden looked at Roland with cool surprise. Sairis felt the spell loosen as the magician’s attention shifted. He gasped for air.
“With respect, Your Highness,” said Marsden, “I have an order from the queen to detain the demon who colluded with Hastafel to kill you both. This necromancer appears to be controlling it. We need to kill or capture him.”
“And I’m giving you an order to stop,” boomed Roland in what Sairis supposed must be a battlefield voice.
Marsden was clearly confused. He spoke more hesitantly. “An order from the queen supersedes an order from...” He peered at Roland more closely. “My lord, you have a strange aura. I believe you have been the victim of magical influences.”
Sairis’s heart was beating in his throat. They are going to take Roland aside. By force if necessary. Roland had bought Sairis a moment to think, a moment to breathe. But only a moment. Use your brain, Sair! It’s the only thing you’re good at!
Leverage! shouted a voice in his head. You need leverage! A hostage, a threat, something to bargain with, a trade.
Sairis wished now that he’d done something to hold Candice. He couldn’t have held her for long, but probably long enough to secure his own release. If he could bind someone in the room, literally anyone...
And then he knew. Sairis screwed his eyes shut. I really am a monster. But he drew the breath Roland had bought him, and he said the words.
* * * *
Roland’s knees unhinged with such startling suddenness that for a moment he thought someone had kicked him. He dropped to all fours, feeling disoriented. Tremendous weight pressed his body down. He wondered if something had fallen on him. A dresser? The roof? He tried to push himself up. His arms felt heavy. An invisible vise clenched around his chest. What in the hells?
Magicians were shouting. Someone was bending over him. Roland tried to speak, but it was difficult to get a breath.
He heard Sairis’s voice, a grating snarl. “Let me go.”
Roland raised his head. Sairis was glaring up at Marsden, his teeth bared like a wild animal. Marsden made a strangled sound of mingled outrage and disbelief. He murmured words that formed like ice in the air.
Roland choked. His throat closed entirely, strangling.
Dimly, Roland heard someone shout, “It’s magical resonance, sir. You’ve got to stop. The prince will die! He’s not a magician; he can’t take this!”
Roland slid to his elbows. Then his chin hit the floor.
Another string of incomprehensible words from Marsden.
Air rushed back into Roland’s lungs. His whole body shuddered as the weight lifted and he lay there bonelessly, breath wheezing painfully in and out. Through his streaming eyes, Roland saw Sairis stagger to his feet and stumble away, past the edge of the mirror.
Thank you for reading The Knight and the Necromancer!
The story continues in Book 2: The Border
Roland and Sairis have escaped from a traumatic assassination attempt, solved the mystery of their attacker, and enjoyed plenty of heavy petting along the way. Roland knows that it’s too soon for love, but he feels like he’s falling head over heels.
However, in the final moments when their attacker is revealed, Sairis does something unthinkable. He transfers a brutal spell to Roland, nearly killing him, and disappears.
Roland is left reeling, struggling to cope with his injuries, and wondering whether everything Sairis said and did was a lie. Did Sairis seduce Roland only to use him as a hostage? And if not, what has happened to Sairis?
Start reading...
About the Author
A. H. Lee is a medical professional. She also writes epic fantasy under another name. You can connect with her on facebook. “Like” her Author Page to get major announcements. If you want to more personal discussion, join her facebook chat group. It's a closed group, but she’ll let you in promptly if you request to join. People can't see what you post there unless they’re part of the group.
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