In all honesty, she hadn’t been very worried. If Spot was going to eat her, he’d have done it by now, and it had been pretty cold. Unlike Avraniel, Katie was not a living furnace, so Spot’s warmth was actually quite welcome. Even Rembrandt, who hadn’t been at all impressed by the dragon’s request, had ended up sleeping on Spot’s snout for extra warmth, much to his later consternation and the amusement of the other rats. Apparently, some of the demolition rats had already taken to sleeping on or around Spot due to the warmth the dragon radiated.
Right now, however, she was out shopping for camels with her master. Old Man and Gerald had been given a list of supplies to pick up, and Avraniel had gone with them due to her expertise in haggling – more like threatening – people into a more favourable price. The addition of Spot was sure to knock the price down even more. She and her master were currently making their way through the vast marketplace that occupied the heart of the city. It was so large that there was an entire section set aside for buying and selling animals that ranged from the mundane, like camels and horses, to the more exotic, like newly hatched hydras and drakes.
“Don’t touch anything,” her master warned. “A lot of the animals here might look cute and cuddly, but they will happily remove a finger or two – maybe even an arm – if you give them the opportunity. A good rule when it comes to animals in the desert is that if it’s big and scary, it will try to rip you to bits. If it’s cute and cuddly, it’s probably poisonous.”
Katie nodded. His advice matched what she’d heard about the desert. She caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye and nearly tripped. “Is that…?”
Her master followed her gaze to a huge cage off to one side of the main thoroughfare. “You have good eyes, my young apprentice. That is indeed a desert rock hydra, a species of hydra that is bigger, has more heads, and is altogether even more vicious than the hydras you typically find in Everton.” He sighed. “And look how big it is. I wish we could buy it, but we’ve got other things to focus on.” His eyes narrowed. “That one is also getting a bit old. You can tell from the way some of its scales have chipped. You never see that in a young hydra.” He pursed his lips. “Maybe next year, we can come back during hydra hatching season and pick up enough hatchlings for a breeding program. It would definitely save us money in the long run, and you can never have too many hydras.”
Katie quickened her pace to keep up with her master. The hydra would have made a wonderful zombie, and she would definitely remind him when hydra-hatching season came around again. They used so many hydras that breeding their own was only logical. She had also recently read a very interesting book about how to bring out specific traits in hydras through controlled breeding, and she was keen to see how much of it was true.
“So, what are we looking for in a camel, master? I know how to pick a good horse, but I’ve never even ridden a camel before.”
Her master warded off an over-eager merchant who was trying to sell what Katie could tell, even at a glance, were fake drake eggs. She snorted. Those eggs belonged to a species of giant lizard that was common to certain regions of Everton.
“What you’re looking for in a camel, Katie, is reliability. The desert is an unforgiving place. If you find yourself without transport, you won’t last long. It’s not like Everton where you’ll most likely stumble across a village if you find a road and wander for a day or two. I suppose you’re better off than most people since you have your shadows. There also aren’t many places in the desert where you can restock your food and water. The ideal camel is healthy, even-tempered, and doesn’t spit too much. You should also pay close attention to the way a camel walks. A camel can appear perfectly fine, but even a small hitch in its gait or a slight limp can become real problems over the course of a journey through the desert.”
“Is spitting really such a big deal?”
Katie ducked on reflex as something swiped at her from a cage. It appeared to be some kind of vaguely snake-like thing although it was hard to tell since its cage was half-covered by a thick cloth. She frowned. Keeping a snake-like creature in a cage was a recipe for trouble. She’d learned that the hard away after she’d purchased a cobra to add to one of her zombies, only for the enterprising reptile to make an escape. Since then, she’d decided to follow her master’s example of keeping snakes in properly designed enclosures although he could be a bit odd when it came to snakes. For example, he’d expressly forbidden her from ever making a zombie python-goat, which was strange because she’d made far more dangerous zombies in the past. Oh well. Most necromancers were a bit eccentric, and her master was no exception to that rule.
“You get tired of it very fast. Believe me, when you’ve spent all day out in the sun with the desert wind getting sand everywhere, having your camel spit at you is, well, it can be the straw that breaks the camel’s back.”
Katie groaned. “Master… puns aren’t your strong suit.”
“That one wasn’t on purpose. And my puns aren’t that bad, are they?”
Katie cringed. “Master, do you remember when we broke into an ancient tomb and the monster guarding it tried to freeze us to death while the ceiling collapsed?”
“Yes.”
Katie made a choking sound. “You talked about how important it was for us to keep our cool under pressure.”
“I thought that was a rather clever one.” He tugged her closer and began to push through the throng of people in front of them. Katie was tempted to use her shadows to clear the way, but doing so would draw far too much attention. Her master, for all that he wasn’t especially tall or broad shouldered, had more than enough strength to push through the crowd. “If you want the best camels, there’s only one group to get them from. I’m sure you’ve heard of them.”
Katie certainly had. Indeed, she’d read as much about them as she could after Avraniel had brought one of them to the castle. “The desert elves.”
“Yes. Elves have a way with animals, and the desert elves have raised the finest camels in the world for centuries.” Her master smirked. “They’ve also been known to tame hydras and ride them into battle, so they definitely know what they’re doing.”
They walked until they reached a large pen with a group of camels in it. The person in front of the pen was undoubtedly a desert elf. She had the dusky skin common to her kind, along with platinum hair and long ears. Several more desert elves stood nearby, and Katie took note of the weapons they carried. It was almost like they expected trouble. Then again, it was better to be prepared.
“Is this why you didn’t bring Avraniel with us?” Katie murmured.
“She’s not here because she can haggle. I’m sure Old Man is no slouch, but Avraniel does casual menace so much better. I doubt that Gerald will have any luck in a place like this. The merchants might empty his pockets.” Her master scratched the back of his head. “And, yes, I thought it might be better if we steered Avraniel away from any desert elves.”
Katie cackled. She’d seen Avraniel haggle before. She radiated enough menace that simply staring at people was usually enough to get her a discount. Even if people didn’t know who she was, the aura she had was not unlike a wolf’s. People could tell that she was no push over, and the way she carried herself screamed danger. As for desert elves, it was well known that desert elves and forest elves detested each other. In fact, according to the books Katie had read, forest elves, high elves, desert elves, dark elves, and all of the other elves hated each other.
No one outside the elves knew why they hated each other – the elves had never revealed the source of the conflict to outsiders – but it was an ongoing feud, one which mixed centuries of peace with bouts of verbal jousting and the occasional outbreak of bloody violence and full-scale war. Like any forest elf, Avraniel knew about the feud, but all she would say was that it was based on an event far back in the history of the elves that involved lots of wine, several bets, and possibly a deranged bear. Katie had wisely chosen to stop her inquiries there. She wasn
’t sure she wanted to know, and Avraniel had gone off on a rant about how the desert elves were all a bunch of sand-loving, hydra-humping bastards who deserved to be set on fire for being even bigger dicks than the forest elves.
Afterward, Katie had decided to start referring to the whole thing as Secret Elf Business. There was actually a similar feud amongst the dwarves. There were basically three main groups of dwarves: the ones who lived underground or in mountains, the ones who lived above ground or out in the open, and the ones who lived at sea. They all hated each other, and no one knew why except the dwarves. Katie was morbidly curious about it too. It had to be something interesting to have lasted this long, but it was probably Secret Dwarf Business that she was better off not knowing about.
Some people thought that those feuds made the elves and the dwarves strange. Some people even attributed the rise of humans to their ability to avoid such feuds, but Katie disagreed. She had seen people of every race get into stupid arguments, some of which had lasted almost as long as the feuds amongst the elves and the dwarves. Everton and the Eternal Empire were a perfect example. The Eternal Empire still couldn’t get over the fact that Everton was its own country now.
Necromancers weren’t any better either. In many ways, they were worse. The last time she and her master had attended a major convention for necromancers – they were hard to hold in reputable places since the vast majority of the attendees were wanted criminals – there had been an all-out brawl over terminology. Katie and her master belonged to the camp that believed a composite zombie, one made up of multiple creatures, should be named by putting the name of the creature that formed the base of the zombie first. In other words, if a zombie had started off as a bear before having some lion parts added on, then it should be called a zombie bear-lion. However, not everyone agreed. A significant proportion of necromancers believed that the base creature should have its name put last. What Katie called a zombie bear-lion would thus be called a zombie lion-bear.
The brawl had rapidly devolved into pitched battle with the participants calling in their zombies and drawing their weapons. Never one to let an opportunity go to waste, her master had whacked a few people over the head with his shovel, and they’d used the battle as a distraction while they robbed as many of their enemies as they could. Quite a few of them had been foolish enough to leave their things unguarded while they fought. All in all, it had turned out rather well, even if it had been a bit disheartening. Necromancers were supposed to be eminently sensible and pragmatic masters of death – so much for that idea.
The desert elf watched them closely as they approached. Her eyes were a shade of blue bordering on indigo. It was hard to see much of her face apart from those eyes since she wore a cloth over her face to help protect it from the harsh sun and the sand that the desert winds often kicked up. However, Katie took note of the curved sword at her waist and the bow on her back. Elves across the world had a tendency to be good with bows and pointy things. Even Avraniel, despite her love of fire, was incredibly good with her bow and her daggers.
“We’re looking for some camels,” her master said without preamble. “Good ones.”
“How many?” The elf’s voice was strangely smooth and lyrical. It must be something innate to desert elves, or –
“Please, don’t try to use your magic on me.” Katie had to hand it to her master. He wasn’t easy to fool, even with magic. “I can feel you using it. You’re good. It’s very subtle and well done, but it won’t work now that I’ve noticed it.” He pursed his lips. “I’m guessing it uses a combination of your voice and eye contact to charm people. It must be very useful for someone who makes their living selling things. It’s also not strictly legal here although I doubt that anyone would bother to arrest you since it would be difficult to prove. In other words, it’s a risk well worth taking.”
The elf laughed. “A lot of things are not strictly legal here, human. It doesn’t stop people from doing them.” She stepped forward. “What makes you think that my eyes have anything to do with my magic?”
“It’s not very windy here, and you’re the only one with your face covered like that. It draws people’s attention to your eyes and your voice.” Her master smiled, but Katie didn’t miss the steel in his eyes. “You should stop. It’s not going to work.”
“You never know.” Katie couldn’t see the desert elf’s face, but she suspected that she was smiling too.
“You’re wrong. I do know.” Her master shook his head. “All I want to do is to buy some camels. Either you’re willing to do business properly, or you’re not. My journey isn’t so long that I can’t make do with camels from elsewhere.” He turned very deliberately to one of the other merchants nearby who was also selling camels.
“Very well.” The elf tugged the cloth down to reveal her face. “How many do you need?”
Timmy paused to consider the question, and Katie frowned as a shadow crept along the ground toward her master. Her brows furrowed, and her own magic rippled out. The shadow froze. For a second, it fought against her control, but Katie had yet to meet someone whose control over shadows was stronger than hers.
“Master, her shadow…”
“Thank you, Katie.” He smirked. “So you have some form of shadow magic as well. I’m going to guess it lets you control people by taking over their shadow. You’ve got an interesting set of abilities.” He put one hand on the shovel that was in a holster on his back. “They would be perfect for a merchant… or an assassin.”
The desert elf’s smile thinned. “You have a strong apprentice, necromancer.”
“Oh, so you do know what I am.”
“You stink of death.”
“And you stink of cheating.” Timmy let his hand drop back to his side. “I have no interest in what you do outside of selling camels, as long as it doesn’t involve me. Now, about those camels…”
“We can work something out.” The desert elf’s eyes gleamed. “I had heard from some friends of mine that the Master of the Gate welcomed some very interesting visitors. They were right. I have also heard that you may be travelling with the Burning One.”
“The Burning One?” Katie shared her master’s puzzlement for a moment before she realised whom the desert elf was talking about. He grinned. “Ah, yes. Her.”
Katie made a face. Her master would have to tell Burag about this. Someone under his command was not keeping secrets properly, and secrets could be worth more than gold in a place like this. “You’re not trying to kill her or anything, are you?” She felt morally obligated to warn the desert elf. “Because that would be a tremendously bad idea.”
The desert elf snorted. “Only a fool faces the Burning One in battle. No, I merely wish to lay eyes upon her and see if she is truly as formidable as the legends say. We desert elves are no friends to our tree-hugging kin. To see one of their own turn against them is… amusing.”
“Multiply everything you’ve heard by a factor of ten.” Timmy gestured at the animals in the pen behind the desert elf. “Can we get back to the camels? I’d rather not be here all day.”
Katie relaxed slightly once they were inside the pen choosing their camels. She immediately had to use her shadows to block what seemed like a tidal wave of spit aimed at her by a particularly pernicious dromedary. Yuck. Even her shadows felt dirty after blocking the camel’s spit, and the camel looked like it wanted to try again. On her shoulder, Rembrandt squeaked a warning to the camel. Whatever the rat had said, it seemed to work. The camel snorted at her and then wandered off.
“Thanks,” Katie whispered, running one finger down Rembrandt’s back. “Rats are much better than camels, aren’t they?”
Rembrandt nodded. The only thing that camels did better than rats was carry things, and that was only because they were a lot bigger than rats.
“I think you should pick a different camel,” her master remarked dryly. “I don’t think he likes you.”
Katie glanced back at the camel. The camel sneered, and Remb
randt returned the gesture. “No, I don’t think he does.”
She eventually settled on a camel that didn’t hate her on first sight. It wasn’t the biggest one there, but it wasn’t small either. She watched it walk, and its stride was smooth and easy. The camel also seemed to like Rembrandt too, sniffing at the rat once or twice before nudging him with its head.
“I think I’ll get this camel.” She pointed at another camel. It was the most docile of the camels in the pen by a considerable margin. “I think we should get that one for Gerald.” The camel honestly appeared to be more interested in studying the ground or the sky than actually doing anything. However, when she took its reins, it walked along obediently without a hitch in its stride.
“Is this Gerald person not good with animals?” the desert elf asked. She had accompanied them into the pen while one of the others took her position speaking with potential customers.
Katie opened her mouth to refute the assertion before closing it. “That is… a kind way of putting it. Everything he meets tries to eat him or kill him, often both. I can’t help but wonder if even the camels might try.”
“Then that camel is a good choice. It is so relaxed that I swear it would forget to eat and drink if we did not remind it to.”
“Well, I’ve finished picking out camels for the others,” Timmy said. “Let’s talk price.”
The desert elf’s lips curled. “Yes, let’s.”
It took fifteen minutes of haggling, but they got their camels, and at what Katie thought was a reasonable price too.
“Ah, this brings back memories.” Her master had a spring in his step as they led the camels back to the inn. “Do you know what happened the first time my master tried to ride a camel in front of me?”
Katie was morbidly curious. Her master’s master had been equal parts monster and genius. “What happened?”
“The camel spat at him. It got him right in the face too. He would have killed it, but I reminded him that people would definitely notice him if he was riding a zombie camel.” He threw his head back and laughed. “He got so mad at me. I guess that was one of the reasons that we got captured and thrown into the Nameless Citadel in the first place. My master got angry – and drunk – too often, so he didn’t notice that we were surrounded until it was too late. I did try to warn him, but, well, he wasn’t the kind of person to accept advice.”
Two Necromancers, a Dragon, and a Vampire (The Unconventional Heroes Series Book 3) Page 16