She never imagined she’d witness necromancy with her own eyes. She lurched forward and wrapped her arms around herself.
“Hey now, keep it together!” Dane grabbed her shoulder. “Keep it together or we’re never going to get out of this!”
“Dane—” she willed herself not to dry heave, “—how? How do we get out of this? And how are you so okay?”
“It’s how I got the grave warden job,” he said. “The only thing stronger than my sense for the Forbidden is my resolve for it. Come on,” he took her hand and led her away from the catacombs, “before they find us.”
“What are we going to do? What’s our plan?”
Dane looked around the dimly lit room while the undead hobbled around on the other end. Most of the light came from candles on a desk overseeing the dais.
“If the necromancer raising the army is smart,” he started, “they’ll have a backup plan for if things go wrong. Magic can be faulty, especially when you’re breaking the rules with it.” He went to the desk and started opening drawers. “There’s got to be something around here somewhere.”
“If they’re smart,” Tillie reminded him.
“It’s Lord Deloren.” Dane’s look was a glare. “We both know that’s who we’re going to find if we keep looking, Tillie.”
She shook her head, still shivering. “I can’t believe that, Dane. No. Not until I see it with my own eyes. He would never do something like this! We were brought to a lair unconscious and rolled up like dead bodies!”
“We saw him walk inside Tano Manor!” he yelled. “Hell, Tillie, I bet someone’s been shadowing him since before Cadence’s investigation even started! I bet that whole attack at the Plaid Bonnet was staged to get him away from her!”
“B-but he’s been working on my husband’s case for years, he’s been studying the ailment for me, looking for a—”
“It was the perfect thing to cover up what he was actually doing!”
“So what are you trying to say? Are you trying to say I’m stupid? Naïve? Blind?”
Dane finally yanked open a drawer with something inside. He picked up a key. “Where is there something to open? Something with a lock?”
“Oh hells, Dane!” Tillie picked up the desk chair and smashed it over the top of the desk. “There’s no time for this!” The desktop splintered away. Directly beneath it was an iron sword with an arrow-shaped tip.
The corpses took notice of the noise and started creaking their way over. Dane broke away pieces of the shattered desktop and grabbed the sword’s hilt.
“How the hell did you know there’d be a compartment there?”
“Have you never owned a desk before, you idiot? There’s tons of places to hide something and you come up with a key? We don’t have time for that!”
He shrugged. “Alright. Smash first, ask questions later. That’s the Tillie Way.”
He kept Cadence’s backup pistol at his hip and brandished the sword as they approached the catacombs. Tillie held out her dagger with shaking hands.
“What’s our plan?” she asked. “And what is that sword? Will it do us any good?”
“Don’t know what the sword is, but the plan is to start hacking and figure it out on the way. It was there for a reason.”
Tillie watched him race forward to the corpses and start swinging. The iron blade cut through them smooth like butter. Each corpse was felled with only one strike, but she was still scared for him and his recklessness. The undead were numerous and didn’t cease coming.
“Dane, there’s too many!”
“We have to find Cadence!” he yelled back. “Besides, this is good experience. Imagine how prepared I’ll be if all the dead in the cemetery wake up!”
She stared down at Cadence’s dagger in her hand. The Bone Priestess wouldn’t falter. The Bone Priestess would run in with abandon, pressing forward, using her bullish ways to win. Tillie fancied herself a little more cautious but realized how bullish she herself had been when Cadence tried to keep her out of the investigation.
“I couldn’t take no for an answer.” She swallowed hard. It was time to fight the fight she had earned.
She ran, taking her place behind Dane to fend off any corpses that snuck in through the range of the mysterious sword. One lunged forward and dug its bony fingers into Dane’s shoulder, and Tillie sprang to action. She sank the dagger into the rotting corpse’s skull. Her blood rushed and excitement filled her core as it fell to the ground.
“Shit,” Dane said, “I didn’t think you were really going to do it. Come on, let’s do this!”
They hacked their way through the catacombs. Dane had noticed that some of the undead did not engage them, but walked away, down another path. They were all going to the same place. Dane knew that’s where they would find what they were looking for.
Some of the dead were too far decomposed to pose a threat. The reanimation spell was not strong enough to keep them pieced together, and after several steps they clattered to the ground in a heap of bones and dust.
“He tried to do too much,” Dane mumbled. “The scope of his spell was too big. Spread too thin.”
Tillie’s adrenaline had abolished her fear and she came out from behind Dane, shoving an oncoming corpse to the ground. It tried to push back for only a second, but all its strength had gone to staying together. It fell like the others.
“Do you think he just wanted to scare us?” Tillie asked.
“It’s not a bad plan if you consider most people are terrified at the prospect of the Forbidden. Especially necromancy. If I was anyone else, I’m sure I would have shit myself and tried to get out of here. You did pretty well, yourself, Til.”
The pathways leading to the main room were easy to clear. The silver dagger and the strange iron sword had an advantage against the undead, but it mattered more that Lord Deloren’s magic was losing its power. They reached the main room headstrong and confident, but what they saw stopped them cold.
The horrific flesh construct and the moving pile of bodies and viscera was much worse than the ragged army of bones and rot wobbling throughout the catacombs. The construct had Cadence in its grasp. It had wrapped its arms around her tight. She coughed as the air left her and could not find its way back in.
Tillie’s eyes brimmed with tears when she saw Lord Deloren approaching Cadence and the construct with his Maw.
“You monster!” Her white-knuckled grasp on the dagger quivered. “How could you do this? How could you betray the trust of all the people you’ve helped? I thought the people, your community, I thought we all meant something to you!”
“Tillie Boyce.” Lord Deloren turned his gaze to her. “I would never expect a pitiful young mother to understand the world around her. You are no exception.”
Cadence coughed. “Stitches…”
Lord Deloren brought the Maw to Cadence’s face. He stroked her chin with his fingertips and the Maw snapped at her, so close to the life inside of her.
“Tillie,” he said, “most of us scholars and doctors have no interest in people and their wellbeing. No, we do what we do because the mysteries of life and of the body pull us into study. All we want is knowledge. We want to understand. Finding the answer to a question like Galen Boyce’s condition was an exciting prospect.”
Dane drew the pistol and fired it at Lord Deloren. The construct dropped Cadence immediately and raced toward the new threat, its footsteps thundering as it stomped through the room.
Lord Deloren took the bullet in his arm and roared in pain. The bullet sparked and spit smoke as it stayed embedded in him.
Cadence gasped for air and locked eyes with him. “Necromancer filth. You commit the highest offense to Botathora. The pain of her sacred weapons will be eternal.”
Tillie rushed to her side and helped her to her feet. “Are you alright?”
“Dane’s sword. The Minute Hand. That’s an artifact from the Sanctum!” Cadence said. “Where did he get it?”
“Ah, the little item
I thefted with the help of Brin Colt,” Lord Deloren answered for her, gritting his teeth through the pain. “The Sanctum was such a fan of him. Absolutely incredible how much he was able to get away with.” With his right hand, he materialized a slender black metal staff. Akashic energy crackled at its tip.
“Gods damned Brin Colt.” Cadence spat. “Tillie, you two take care of the giant. I’ll take this wretch.”
Tillie stepped away and Lord Deloren turned his magic on her, firing a stream of akasha that looked like lightning. It missed her except for small singe on her cheek. The akashic bruising spread across her skin like a web.
“Keep your magic on me, necromancer!” Cadence shouted. “Though that was a pitiful Cold Bolt. Clearly you didn’t master your general magic enough before moving on to the Forbidden.”
Lord Deloren growled and prepared another Cold Bolt. “You and your team will not get out of here, Bone Priestess. I have invested too much time to let you ruin my efforts.”
She closed the distance between them and threw her fist into his face. He was in good enough health to stand and move without his cane—Cadence guessed he had indulged in someone’s life energy with the Maw before the encounter—but he was still an old man at the end of the day. The impact of Cadence’s fist knocked him back.
The flesh construct sensed the danger to Lord Deloren and turned back around, heading for Cadence. Tillie stared as it stormed by oblivious to her presence. Her eyes followed the trail of black stitches holding the grotesque beast together. Dane came to her side, holding the Minute Hand out to defend her.
“Forget attacking it,” she said. “I’m going to take it apart! You kill that other thing!”
Dane wrinkled up his nose and stared at the mass of body parts pulling itself along the ground. “I don’t want to go anywhere near that thing.”
Tillie huffed and tailed the construct as it headed for Cadence. She held out the dagger, and when she had stepped in just close enough, she made a tiny cut and watched the stitching come loose along the monster’s back. She cut again and its entire left side started separating from its right. The mess of organs inside spilled out and Tillie retched.
It turned around to address her, and she nicked at the stitches around its neck. It went to swing, and the arm came completely detached. The final strings snapped with its weight and the arm fell to the ground.
Cadence hadn’t noticed. She was pummeling Lord Deloren without mercy. She’d finally decided that there was no better way to take him down. He tried to fight back and then to shove away, but he was feeble and old. He lost his footing and fell just like his creation, and then Cadence was on top of him continuing her assault.
Tillie and Dane ran to her side.
“Cadence!” Tillie wanted to pull her away but was afraid to touch her. “Cadence, I think we did it. I think we’re okay!”
Cadence’s bloodied fist trembled, but she drew back. “The flesh construct?”
“It can’t move anymore,” Tillie told her. “The other thing… well, it’s just kind of slithering around over there. I don’t think we’re in danger.”
Lord Deloren groaned but made no words. His face was too battered for Cadence to see exactly where she had spit the skin.
“I admit, Lord Deloren, you had me worried.” She caught her breath. “Quite the parlor trick, shaking up all the bones down here. Had I been alone, you might have done me in.”
He grunted. “What comes now, Bone Priestess? What pitiful way will your Sanctum seek justice?”
“Justice for your crimes are not our jurisdiction, Lord Deloren. They are Botathora’s. You will see her directly for your punishment.”
It did not register with him immediately, but when it did, his eyes widened.
“Surely you don’t mean to kill me.”
“Our world must maintain its balance. Order and Disorder. Law and Chaos. Good and Bad. Unfortunately, Lord Deloren, there is no room in life’s perfect duality for the Forbidden.”
Cadence stood up and held her hand out, the silver ring on her index finger glowing white. The energy enveloped her hand, gathering like a brewing storm. Lord Deloren looked up at the thin electric wisps arcing through the air from her energy.
“A Crux Bolt, then?” he asked.
“The Death Goddess’s answer to those who cheat her rules.” Cadence narrowed her eyes. “A Crux Bolt.”
A ferocious crack vibrated through the air as a silver lightning bolt formed from the ring’s energy and struck Lord Deloren. His roar of pain echoed all through the catacombs as the magic tore through him. When it started to burn his skin to ash, Tillie turned away.
Cadence’s Crux Bolt left nothing behind of Lord Deloren but a grimy black smear on the ground. Any creature that had still been rustling—the mass of moving body parts and a handful of persistent corpses in the catacombs—stopped and fell, finally at rest.
Tillie looked around. “Is this finally over?”
Cadence nodded. “Looks to be so, Miss Boyce. Are you and Mister Sheltier alright?”
“I’d rather be somewhere that smelled better,” Dane said, “but all things considered, I feel quite well. Thanks for keeping an eye out for us, Lady Cadence.”
“I knew you two would do something stupid.”
“Yes, but look where it got us.” Tillie gestured to everything around them. “This is it. This is what that dumb little note of mine uncovered. Well, it’s what you uncovered.”
“We did it, Miss Boyce.” Cadence tucked stray wisps of hair behind her ear. “Together. But it turns out we were worried about the wrong grave warden. Brin Colt was Deloren’s supplier all along.”
“And now,” Dane handed Cadence the Minute Hand, “I get to say, ‘I told you so.’”
She inspected the sword’s sender design and shook her head. “Despicable that he could come by something like this. And what about you, Mister Sheltier? How did you become so capable? I did not expect you and Miss Boyce to come barreling through the undead so valiantly.”
“It’s just as I told you before,” he said. “It’s how I got the new grave warden job in the first place. Traveling three thousand miles, coming across the open plains of Central Siopenne, you face some things. Sometimes those things are undead, and you learn how to handle it. That’s all.”
“Thank you both for stepping in.” Cadence’s lips turned up into the tiniest grin. “Now help me get the dead together so that I may conduct a proper death ceremony. It worries me to know that Master Tano’s abilities can still reach them, but that is something I will just have to address later.”
“You’re going to go after the Tano Family?” Tillie asked.
“I must. And someday? I will.”
The sun was high in the sky on a brilliant summer afternoon in Riddenholm. The Silver Lady Cemetery was peaceful, filled only by the sounds of a child’s laughter. Rowan skipped between the headstones with two dandelions in his hair like antennae.
With a content sigh, Tillie relaxed on a blanket by Galen’s headstone. It had only been a month and a half since her run-in with the Bone Priestess, and already she was back in Riddenholm, visiting a place she usually only saw once a year. She looked at Galen’s engraving and smiled.
“Did you see me?” she asked. “I was impressive, wasn’t I? Didn’t think I’d ever be fighting against the undead like that. And to think Brin Colt had such a hand in all of it. The Sanctum saw him taken care of and sent someone out to ensure everyone buried here was done so properly. You’ve been well taken care of.”
A gentle breeze rustled the branches and swept through the long grasses. Tillie felt cozy and warm on the inside.
She saw Dane come out of the little white grave warden’s cabin and wave to Rowan. The boy skipped circles around him until Dane handed him a piece of paper-wrapped candy from his pocket.
He approached Tillie next with a friendly grin. “Are you going to stay in town for dinner?”
She sat up and couldn’t help but blush. “Depends. Wha
t’s on the menu?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’m sure I could cook something up. Throw a bird over the hearth, maybe. I could get some of those swirly green things… what are they called?”
“Fiddleheads?” Tillie laughed. “You know how to cook fiddlehead ferns?”
“I’ll just throw them over the hearth, too.”
Tillie’s infectious giggles struck Dane, too.
“What?” he asked. “Are you making fun of me, Til?”
She managed words with a gasp of air. “I would never!”
They teased each other and laughed about nothing, none the wiser to Rowan rejoining them with a guest.
“Miss Boyce. Mister Sheltier.”
They gasped and looked up. Cadence de la Croix tipped her hat to them, a wry little grin spreading across her face. A basket hung from her elbow.
“Cadence!” Tillie jumped up to give her a hug. Cadence reciprocated by touching her cheek to the woman’s shoulder for just a second. “What brings you over?”
“I am merely here to check in with Mister Sheltier. Figured there was a chance I’d find you here, too, so I came with treats.”
“Treats?” Rowan’s face lit up.
“Yes, Mister Rowan. Would you like a peach?”
“Ma, can I have a peach?”
Tillie nodded. “Of course you can, Rowan.”
Cadence handed the boy a ripe, fuzzy peach. “Brought some bread, too. Mister Sheltier may have told me his big dinner plans ahead of time.”
“Wait, really? You’re having dinner with us?” Tillie couldn’t keep from clapping her hands together. “That’s wonderful!”
“Thought it was only right. Dane here has finished his first course at the Sanctum, and he passed with accolades.”
Dane led everyone into the cabin. A quaint table had been set up and covered in a patchwork tablecloth that was sewn together from various grain sacks. A bouquet of sunset-colored wildflowers filled a jar that sat in the center. Wooden plates, pewter cutlery, and stunning wine glasses were set for four. Rowan’s glass was already filled with juice.
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