by Deck Davis
It was the shade Jakub had decided on when he was just twelve, when he’d first learned about the choice. Back then, Kortho was still around, and Jakub had the Queen’s academy behind him.
But now…
Now my only ally is Witas, and there are some pretty nasty people who seem to have it out for me.
And if not me, then other students, the poor bastards who they might catch unaware.
He needed to be able to fight.
Death Draw would give him that power. It was the opposite of the Tapper; you drew essence from death in the same way, but wielded it destructively.
And in turn, it slowly destroyed you. A man couldn’t spend his life wielding the destruction of the dead for himself, and not expect the pain and corruption that went with it.
Jakub didn’t want to see himself thirty years from now, just not even fifty years old but looking eighty, full of pain, with bones withered from too much corruption, his mind dirtied by the force of death.
“That leaves the Raiser,” he said under his breath, testing his potential choice and the way it sounded.
In a way, Mancerno was right; the Raiser shade was true necromancy, in that it encompassed what the art was about – raising things from the dead.
It would mean he could raise long-dead things and have them serve him. He wouldn’t depend on finding a corpse within its resurrection window.
There was a drawback, though. A hell of one.
The academy always said that a necromancer was free to choose his own shade. That said, a journeyman who chose the Raiser would be expelled, because it was a dark form of the art.
It wasn’t just in the academy that it was seen that way; a necromancer turning up at a city with five skeletons in tow would see the city gates closed on him. People would flee from him, and others would attack out of fear or spite.
But the power…the ability to create a personal army, given enough experience and practice and essence.
Screw what the academy thought. They’d abandoned him after just a single mistake.
Screw what other people thought, too. When he’d been living with his cannibalistic family, who had helped him?
Nobody.
“Just you, Kortho.”
If Kortho found out that Jakub had chosen the Raiser, he’d be hurt. He’d feel it deep.
But Kortho was gone now. Kortho wasn’t here to protect him, so he needed to protect himself.
And with that, Jakub approached the altar and he made his choice.
He placed his hands on it, and he faced the hall, faced the Three, and spoke.
“I choose the shade of the Raiser.”
Shade Chosen: The Raiser
As a journeyman, you have taken an important step closer to mastery of your art. With your new shade, comes new powers.
Skill increased: Minor Creature Resurrection upgraded to Major Creature Resurrection [Resurrection Glyphline]
You can now raise creatures of any size from the dead.
Skill increased: Death Puppet increased to [2] [Resurrection Glyphline]
You can now use Death Puppet on those who are on the edges of death; not just those who have already died.
Skill Learned: Re-Animate [1][Resurrection Glyphline]
A perk of the Raiser shade, you can give life to creatures and people who are long-dead. This life is limited; they will be mindless, able to do your bidding but not to think for themselves.
CHAPTER 47
The Three wittered amongst each other from beyond the altar, but Jakub could hardly hear what they were saying over the pounding of his own pulse.
He read the text that accompanied his shade and felt adrenaline course through him.
This was it; the culmination of years of study. Years of classrooms, of poking cadavers, of reading until dawn.
If graduating as a novice had been his first major accomplishment on his necromancy path, then this was his second, and it was a giant stride toward that thing in the distance, that thing that had seemed so unobtainable – mastery.
If the upgrade from Minor Creature Resurrection to Major and the change in his Death Puppet spell had been the extent of it, he’d still have felt a glow of happiness.
But Re-Animate was a spell of true power. It made his existing catalogue of spells look weak as hell in comparison.
He could raise an army now. Well, perhaps not an army – he was still limited by the amount of essence he could hold at any one time. He had the female necromancer’s soul necklace, but the necklace would adapt to him, and would only hold enough essence according to his own rank.
That meant he wouldn’t suddenly be able to visit a graveyard and create a legion of the dead. Four or five at a time was his guess, and then more as he grew in power.
There was no going back now. If getting admitted to the academy had been a dim possibility, it was gone now.
So too was any idea of a normal life; he wouldn’t get entry to many cities if he had a party of undead with him.
Screw them all.
He’d face that when he came to it. If he needed to go somewhere, maybe he’d banish whatever he’d summoned. The scrimper part of him grimaced at the idea of wasting essence, but he’d adapt, because this meant he didn’t have to worry.
He could travel the roads that people said were dangerous. If bandits attacked, so what? His undead companions would drive away the cowards and kill those who chose to fight.
And more importantly, when the murderous bastards who were hunting academy students came for him, he’d be ready.
CHAPTER 48
It took just a command in his own mind to leave the hall of the Three. When the grand hall disappeared and he was back in the sewers, he found that Witas was gone.
There were dead rats all around him, and his dead gator ally was laying on the ground. Nearby there was the woman.
Could this be a time to test his new shade?
Focusing on her, he spoke the spellword of Reanimate, and he let essence flow out of his soul necklace.
The mist dispersed when it hit her body, and she didn’t move.
There are limits to our shade, said a voice in his head.
“What?”
It was the voice of Mancerno, the red mist, the necromancer who had created the Raiser shade.
A Raiser cannot raise a fellow necromancer to their ranks. It was a fail-safe I built into the essence of my shade. Necromancers cannot use their art on their fellows, except for the good.
“How are you speaking to me?”
Shade-brothers are bonded for life. Surely you were taught that?
He had been taught that. He guessed he was just caught up in it all.
“You’re not going to stay in my head the whole time, are you?”
Don’t flatter yourself. One, I have learned better than to spend too long in the mind of any person under thirty years old. Two, you aren’t the only Raiser in our shade. You have other shade brothers.
“Like who?”
Many, some whom rarely cast their spells anymore. Others who cast them too freely, and paid the price. Others still who prefer to stay out of the eye of the queendom. You might meet them someday. Ryden Renault, for example, is-
“Ryden Renault?”
You know of him?
Jakub felt a shiver creep through him. Ryden Renault was the reason he’d failed his first assignment. He was a necromancer who had been banished for practicing the darker side of necromancy – the side Jakub had chosen, too.
Now they were shade brothers? He didn’t want any kind of link with Ryden. It made him sick to think he’d once let Ryden leave and flee punishment of his crimes, just to save Kortho’s life.
“Don’t breathe a word of this to Ryden. Don’t let him know what I chose.”
A sore spot, shade brother?
“You need me to use my shade so you get essence, right?”
It is our pact.
“Then unless you want me to starve you, don’t breathe a word to him. If you
do, I’ll become a hermit like the others you mentioned. I won’t reanimate so much as a fly.”
I can read your thoughts, brother. I know you are bluffing.
Damn it. He should have closed his mind, he should have used the techniques instructor Irvine had taught him.
We will keep our confidences for now, said Mancerno. Best not to start a friendship on melting ice, no? Feed me, brother.
“Feed you?”
Use your shade, so I may dine on the essence.
“Fine.”
He focused on the woman again, and he spoke his reanimate spellword. Again, nothing happened.
Did I not tell you that it is impossible? Top marks for ingenuity, brother, but you cannot use the gift of our shade on a compatriot.
“I’ve seen a necromancer resurrect another necromancer. That was how Kortho came back,” said Jakub. “Plenty of academy necromancers have been resurrected over the years.
A full resurrection is different from Reanimate. A full resurrection means giving the gift of life back; Reanimating gives no such thing. A reanimated being is just flesh, bone, matter. Nothing of the stuff that is real life – a person’s thoughts. A body is nothing without its mind.
Damn it, he knew that. The excitement was catching up to him. He needed to think straight. Find Witas, get out of the Rats’ Palace.
The key. He needed to find the mana-box that the necromancer’s key opened, and see if it gave a clue to who she was, and who she was working with.
Perhaps try a rat? said Mancerno.
“I need to save my essence for later.”
Later? Not many of our kind choose to be raisers. Most necromancers come from the academy, and we know how they feel about us. You don’t have many shade-brothers, journeyman, and that means I have not fed much lately. I am hungry.
“You want me to raise a rat just so you can feed from the shade?”
It is our pact. Your powers do not come for free.
“If I do that, you’ll leave me alone?”
You’ll never be alone now. That is the beauty of a shade.
“I don’t want you bursting into my head whenever you feel like it.”
Then help me, and I will treat you with respect.
Jakub walked around the pool and stood over a dead rat. Seeing it, he was struck by a thought; he already had the Minor Creature Resurrection spell. How was that any different to Reanimate?
It is quite different, said Mancerno.
“Remember that thing about respect?”
There are dead vermin in the pool that have not already been resurrected. I can sense them. Try your old powers, and your new.
“That’s a waste of essence.”
New knowledge is never a waste. Try it. You will find plenty of corpses in this foul pit to replenish your necklace.
Jakub looked at the pool of water and spoke his Major Creature Resurrection spellword.
Soon, something disturbed the waters, and a rat breached the surface. It climbed onto the edge of the pool and then skittered around, sniffing the corpses around it.
Next, he looked at the dead rat by his feet, one who the necromancer had brought back, and Jakub’s gator had killed.
He spoke the Reanimate spellword, and the rat stirred to life.
But instead of walking around, it stayed still.
Take a step, said Mancerno.
Jakub moved, and his new rat moved in time with him.
Tell it to walk to the chamber entrance.
“Go…err…go over there.”
You only need think it.
The rat walked over to the chamber on his command and stopped at the entrance.
As you can see, reanimation is not true life. The things you bring back are just shells, and will act only by your wishes. It is a mighty shade, the mightiest if I may say so, but you are not giving these things their life back.
“So why not just use my resurrect spell? What’s reanimate giving me?”
How much did it cost you to use resurrect versus reanimate?
Woah – he was right. It had cost a tenth of the essence to reanimate one rat, as opposed to fully resurrecting another.
Now you see, don’t you? You see why this shade is frowned upon. Left unchecked, a man could build an army.
“Left unchecked? Who’s doing the checking?”
The academy. Once they know your shade, they will watch you. Never step out of bounds, never get greedy. Walk into a town with an army of reanimated corpses, and you may find you’ll get more than just funny looks.
CHAPTER 49
It was time to get moving, but he needed essence. Eyeing the pool of water, Jakub spoke the spellword of Essence Harvest, but nothing happened.
“Guess I finally emptied it of corpses,” he said.
Now, he needed to find Witas, and they had to leave the Rats’ Palace. But where had the cleric run off to?
He got the answer when footsteps echoed from beyond the chamber, and the cleric rushed through the entrance and then stopped, panting for breath.
“Where the hell did you go? Again?” said Witas.
“I told you I’d be gone.”
“Never a necromancer around when you need one,” said Witas, “And then two show up in your life at once. At least you’re one I can trust; I don’t know what her problem was.”
“You look tense,” said Jakub. “Where’d you go?”
“I thought I heard voices outside the chamber.”
“See anyone?”
“Nope. We better find our way out, though. I’ve had my fill of rats and sewage. I think I know the route we took now, so follow me.”
Jakub nodded and took a step out of the chamber.
“Got an admirer?” said Witas, nodding at the rat who walked at Jakub’s pace.
“He’s a new friend. Don’t worry about him.”
“Necros…” said Witas, and sighed.
They left the chamber and followed the red dragon symbols. They might have been counterfeits put there to lead them into a trap, but Witas seemed confident in using them to find their way back out.
There were dozens of different twists and turns in the sewers, and Jakub wished he’d committed the route they’d taken to his memory. He just had to trust Witas, trust that he could find the way.
They carried on for another ten minutes, when Witas stopped.
“Hear that?”
Jakub listened. At first he just heard a soft breeze and the dripping of dew from the ceiling. Then there was something else. “Voices.”
“I knew it.”
“I thought nobody came down here?”
“It’s hardly a tourist trap. The only people who come down here are criminals and smugglers.”
The voices got louder now, and Jakub heard the sound of boots echoing through the tunnels.
“That sounds like a lot of people, Witas.”
“When a stranger is either a criminal or a smuggler, it’s best not to surprise them in a dark, enclosed space. Come on.”
“Which way do we go?”
They were faced with three tunnels now, each with a red dragon painted on the side. When the necromancer had painted her false trail, it looked like she’d neglected to remove all of the old ones, resulting in a dilemma for Jakub and Witas.
“Pick the wrong one, and we just might stumble into whoever the hell is down here,” said Witas.
The footsteps grew louder still. Jakub tried to count them, but there were so many. There had to be half a dozen people at least.
“Hang on a second.” He turned to Ludwig. “I need you to do something.”
“Anything.”
“We’re trying to find our way out of here, but we have company. Can you try and sense which direction they’re coming in?”
“Gotcha.”
As Ludwig moved away, Witas spoke. “Ian had a bound pet too. A fat little owl. Grumpy as hell, but at least it wasn’t real. The only thing more annoying than its hooting would have been if it left dead mice on
my doorstep.”
“It always struck me as strange that your brother picked an owl as his bound creature.”
“Ian’s a strange guy. Listen, as good idea as it is to have a hound sniff our new friends out, he’s going to take too long exploring all the tunnels. By the time he’s gone down one and come back on himself, our friends will be here.”
Jakub shook his head. “Watch.”
Ludwig approached the first tunnel on the left. He stopped and sniffed. Then he ran at the tunnel wall, before disappearing into it completely.
“He’s from the Greylands; he doesn’t need to stay on the path,” said Jakub.
Ludwig returned two minutes later, his tail down, his eyes wide.
“Lots of people, Jakub. They have swords and they’re wearing armor.”
“How many is lots?”
“At least ten; they split up in different directions. I heard them talking about someone called the Cleric.”
Jakub looked at Witas. “Any ideas?”
“What did their armor look like?” said Witas.
“They had the Queen’s emblem on.”
“Guards.”
Jakub scratched his head. “But why are they here? Did they say anything else, Lud?”
“One of the said ‘Blackrum wants the cleric. We should take him by force, but don’t kill him.’”
“I thought the guardship asked you to help them?” said Jakub.
Witas tensed his hand into a fist. “Lloyd fucking Blackrum. The bastard has always had it in for me. He doesn’t like the idea of me taking any credit when I help them.”
“Lloyd Blackrum?”
“The captain of the guards.”
“If the captain of the guards hates you, why do you help them?”
“A cleric’s got to eat, and there aren’t many places a Black Cleric can find work. We better go. Which way, dog?”
“He’s not a dog,” said Jakub. “He’s a demonic hound; it’s different. Lud, are any of the tunnels empty?”
Ludwig shook his head. “They spread out so they could cover all of them.”
“Ten armed men against us two.”
“Four,” said Witas, nodding at Ludwig. “We’ve got a hound and a rat.”