Two Necromancers, a Dragon, and a Vampire (The Unconventional Heroes Series Book 3)

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Two Necromancers, a Dragon, and a Vampire (The Unconventional Heroes Series Book 3) Page 27

by L. G. Estrella


  Amanda stared for a moment before she threw her head back and laughed, all sense of elegance and propriety forgotten. She needed a few moments to compose herself. “Oh, you are too much. I like you. The Council could do a lot worse than to have someone like you around.”

  Vicky’s lips twitched. “Likewise. I can see why the old records speak of you so fondly.” She waved at Timmy. “Can we use your dining room again? We have some important matters to discuss.”

  “Go ahead. It’s what we were planning to do anyway.”

  “Oh, I also had a quick peek in one of your laboratories. It was horribly dusty in there. I don’t know how you can get any work done. I did a bit of cleaning, especially around your collection of shark jaws. Tell me, have you actually cleaned that shelf since you started your collection?”

  “What?” Timmy stopped mid-stride. “Tell me that you didn’t rearrange them!”

  “I may have.” He tried to grab her, but Vicky darted out of the way. “What? They were really dusty. They needed to be cleaned.”

  “It’s my collection!” Timmy grumbled. “You can’t just come into a man’s castle and rearrange his collection of shark jaws!”

  Katie grabbed him with her shadows and pulled him back. “Master, please. I’ve seen your collection of shark jaws. It needed to be cleaned. You can always fix it up later.”

  “How would you feel if someone rearranged your collection of armadillo skeletons?” Timmy asked.

  Katie gasped. “You wouldn’t!”

  “Of course not, but now you know how I feel.” Timmy glowered at Vicky. “You didn’t break any of them, did you?”

  Vicky shook her head. “Give me some credit, Timmy. They’re perfectly fine. If anything, they’re in even better condition than when you left.”

  * * *

  Katie tried not to cringe as her master and James quarrelled over an apple like a pair of schoolboys. She wasn’t particularly fond of the councillor either, but, really, it was an apple. Her master should have thrown it at James’s head and called it a day. It certainly didn’t bode well for Everton if this was how one of its councillors and one of its necromancers behaved. And then there was Vicky. Katie still wasn’t entirely sure what to make of her. She seemed to be a genuinely warm and affable person – but then she’d punched Amanda with enough force to flatten a hill without so much as breaking a sweat. Right now, she was amusing herself by using beams of light to cut up the apple that Katie’s master and James were arguing about – and had completely forgotten in the midst of their squabble. The councillor then used more flexible tendrils of light to feed pieces of the apple to some of the rats that had come along for the meeting. Vicky must have wonderful control over her magic.

  “I hope everything went well,” Vicky said to Katie once Timmy and James had ceased their bickering long enough to simply glare at each other.

  Gerald and Old Man were sitting next to Amanda and doing their best to explain the layout of the castle. Katie could sympathise. The castle was enormous and learning how to get around it had taken her a while. It was a good thing that one of the very first gifts her master had ever given her was a special map that would show her where she was in the castle. “I don’t entirely approve of you joining your master on his missions even if you are very talented for your age.”

  Katie shrugged and reached over to hand Rembrandt a grape. The rat liked them a lot, and it was more convenient than making him scamper onto the table. “I can handle it. My master went on far worse missions with his master when he was my age, and he turned out okay.” Vicky looked meaningfully over to where James was using his magic to hurl grapes at Timmy while Timmy readied an orange. “Well, mostly okay. I think Councillor Arthurs brings out the worst in him.”

  “You should have seen them when were in the academy together.” Vicky caught a stray grape out of the air between two of her fingers. Katie’s eyes narrowed. Vicky hadn’t even been looking. “Ah, but your master’s master was total lunatic. Has Timmy told you a lot about him?”

  Katie shook her head and leaned forward eagerly. “Can you tell me more? He hasn’t told me much.” It was true. Her master preferred not to speak about his master. In fact, he usually only brought him up as an example of what not to do. He also used his master as an example of what excessive drinking could do to even the most skilled and powerful of warriors and mages.

  “I’d be happy to.” Vicky turned her hand, and a bowl made out of light appeared. She dropped the grape she’d caught into it and calmly plucked another out of the air. “Your master’s master was named Malcolm Jared Grimm.”

  “Grim? Seriously?”

  “Not Grim – Grimm. But, yes, I do believe that he was quite proud of his name, and you have to admit, Grimm is a wonderfully atmospheric surname for a necromancer. I don’t know a lot about his early life – I suspect even Timmy’s doesn’t know much – but when I was younger, he was already an infamous Grand Necromancer. I’d even go so far as to say that he was the most infamous necromancer in the world. He was connected to the deaths of several prominent individuals both from Everton and from other nations. He was mercenary in his approach to life. He worked for whomever could afford the most money, and he had no qualms about killing anyone.” Vicky grimaced. “He was also not fond of villagers. He wiped out more than his fair share of them over the years to procure corpses, which may explain why the villagers are only now beginning to warm up to your master. They remember what his master was like.”

  Katie shuddered. He was the complete opposite of her master. Maybe that was why her master had turned out the way he had? No. She wasn’t giving him enough credit. She had a feeling he would have turned out the same way even if he’d been a bureaucrat or a carpenter. That was just the way he was. “He had a nickname, right?”

  “Yes.” Vicky’s smile was the definition of dry. “They called him the Soul Ripper.”

  “Soul Ripper?” Katie recoiled. That kind of nickname did not bode well. Heck, it was terrifying compared to her master’s nicknames. Other necromancers often referred to him as ‘Shovel Guy’ or ‘Shovel Man’ since he was the only necromancer in the world who walked around with a shovel all the time. It wasn’t exactly menacing, but it meant people tended to underestimate him, and she’d seen firsthand how good he was at taking advantage of little mistakes like that. It was easy to laugh at his shovel, but people usually didn’t laugh for long. A stout whack to the head or two had a way of changing people’s minds very quickly.

  Her master, who had evidently been listening despite his epic fruit battle against James, ducked under a grape and replied, “I might as well tell you. Otherwise Vicky is going to end up exaggerating everything.” Vicky stuck her tongue out. “You see my master’s primary form of magic was necromancy. But his secondary form of magic… it was a big part of what made him so dangerous. He had a very rare form of magic. He could manipulate and control people’s souls.”

  Katie gulped and reached for another grape for Rembrandt. The rat sensed her unease and nuzzled her cheek. She reached up to pat him on the back. She’d heard of people who could do things like that – there were rumours that Vicky’s secondary magic allowed her to do something similar – but the thought of that kind of magic in the hands of someone like her master’s master…

  “Souls contain a tremendous amount of energy, Katie. It’s why so many of the most powerful and darkest of rituals require living sacrifice.” Timmy began to peel the orange he’d been about to throw at James. “My master was only too happy to use souls to fuel his necromancy and other plans and experiments. Of course, the only way to get souls is from people, and people need their souls to live. If you go around ripping them out…”

  “They die,” Katie whispered.

  “Yes,” Timmy said quietly. “They do, and there is very, very little that most people can do to defend themselves against soul magic. It’s perfect for assassination although its distinctiveness is a drawback. The people with the best chance of holding their ow
n are those whose magic is associated with life and death or those with astral magic. Necromancers, for example, are much harder to kill with soul magic, and Vicky would have been able to handle him. I also doubt that it would have done anything to Amanda since she doesn’t exactly have a soul.”

  The vampire chuckled and glanced up from the map of the castle that Gerald was showing her. “It is somewhat more complicated than that, but I am largely immune to magic that attacks the soul.”

  “Control over people’s souls also allows you to create more powerful zombies,” Timmy continued. “Because you can bind them to your will more easily, and you don’t have to worry about them rebelling as much. It takes a ridiculous amount of power and effort, but my master wasn’t above assassinating powerful mages and bringing them back as zombies.” He drummed his knuckles on the table. “I ended up learning a lot from some of them. A lot of them wanted me to kill him.”

  “That’s horrible,” Katie said. Not only was it extremely bad policy since the zombies would eventually rebel anyway but it was also unnecessarily cruel. The zombies she and her master made were regular zombies, not ones with most or all of their souls intact. They didn’t have much in the way of feelings or emotions. She only created zombies with feelings and emotions when she was certain they wouldn’t mind being that way, like her pet dog, Patches, who was still with her. It was a shame she had to leave him behind on missions, but he simply wasn’t sturdy enough to survive all of the fighting they got into. “But if your master made them into zombies… where are those mages now?”

  “I gave them a choice when I took over: I could let them move on to the afterlife, or they could stay. Almost all of them chose to move on, but a few of them stayed. Do you know the librarian?”

  The castle’s library was managed by a zombie scholar who was in immaculate condition for a zombie who had been around longer than Katie had been alive. The girl got along with him quite well, and she often dropped by to ask for recommendations and to discuss what she’d read. “Is he one of them?”

  “He was a renowned scholar. My master murdered him and forced him to care for the castle’s library. He ended up falling in love with the library, so after my master died, he asked if he could stay.” Her master finished peeling the orange and helped himself to a slice of it. “I told him that I was happy to have him around, but he’s free to head on to the afterlife whenever he wants. However, I have asked him to give me two weeks notice, so I can find a replacement. It’ll be a hassle when he goes – he’s excellent.”

  “Master,” Katie said, meaning every word. “Your master was a gigantic jerk. I think the world is a better place without him in it.”

  “Indeed, which is why nobody cared when he died. Oh, that’s not entirely true. I know of several places that have a festival to mark the day they found out. But, yes, nobody was particularly sad when he died. I even had his body completely destroyed to make sure that he could never – ever – be brought back. He is one problem I do not want to deal with again. I did keep most of his things, his sword included. They’re nasty, but they’re too valuable to throw away or sell, and the majority of them can’t be easily destroyed.”

  “His sword?” Katie made a mental note to ask if she could examine her master’s collection of his master’s things. She had already studied a lot of the artefacts that her master kept, but he hadn’t let her near most of his master’s things. He probably had a lot of good reasons, but she was curious. She also wasn’t a cat, so she didn’t have to worry about that particular adage coming true.

  “My master was a presumptuous fellow,” Timmy murmured. “He had a gigantic sword made by the dwarves. He gave it his own nickname, Soul Ripper. Almost anything it cuts deeply enough will have its soul ripped out. It is exceedingly unpleasant. I keep it somewhere safe, and, no, Katie, I won’t let you examine it or borrow it. I’d rather not have you accidentally kill yourself because you tripped over and cut your finger on a legendarily evil blade.”

  Katie nodded slowly. What kind of person asked for that kind of sword?

  “Anyway,” Timmy said. “Let’s move on. Vicky, I have a feeling you have some things that you want to discuss.”

  The cleric put down the banana she’d been about to peel. “I suppose I can get started now that we’ve concluded our trip down memory lane and you and James have settled your differences for the time being.” She cleared her throat and gestured for everyone to pay close attention. “First of all, the entire Council would like to extend its thanks to you for handling this matter. Of course, we weren’t able to share all of the details with everyone on the Council, but the relevant members have informed. They know how much you have done to help Everton.”

  “Yay,” Avraniel muttered, idly reaching down to scratch in between Spot’s wings. The dragon gave a rumble of contentment and shifted onto his side, so she could scratch the scales of his belly. “We’d better be getting paid what the jerk over there promised us.” She sneered and pointed at James. He retaliated with a grape, but she burnt it out of the air. “Try harder, you dickless loser.”

  “Yes, you will,” Vicky said before James could take Avraniel up on her offer. The last thing she needed was for him to get overenthusiastic. The table was covered in potential projectiles, and he could also launch the table itself at the elf. “The Council – myself included – are also curious as to how you took down the barrier around the Nameless Citadel. Gerald didn’t provide any specifics in his earlier communications. He was, however, careful to point out how impressive it was.”

  “It’s a trade secret – a necromancer thing,” Timmy said. “I’m sure you understand.”

  “Ah.” Vicky smiled secretively and inclined her head. “What a pity. Although I do hope you can tell me in private later. I understand that certain… details are best not shared with certain individuals.”

  Katie’s brows furrowed. Why wasn’t her master telling them, and why was Vicky letting him get away with it? Was he going to ask for more money before he told them? Oh – right. Not everyone on the Council liked her master, and the only reason that a few of them hadn’t attacked the castle themselves was because a powerful and complex barrier protected Black Tower Castle. Vicky, James, and Gerald had all managed to get in because her master hadn’t set the barrier protecting the castle to full power. Instead, he’d set it to detect anything within a particular radius of the castle while preventing teleportation and other similar forms of magic. Had he put the barrier on a war footing, the barrier would have fried Gerald before he’d managed to set foot into the castle, and it would have done its best to do the same to Vicky and James. If the castle truly came under threat – perhaps from a hostile member of the Council or an army – her master would not hesitate to turn the barrier up to its full strength, and he’d taught Katie and Sam how to do it in an emergency. There were even safety measures built into the barrier that would automatically increase its power if the castle came under sudden or unexpected attack.

  Katie sometimes wondered why they even bothered with patrols if they had the barrier, but her master had explained that no barrier was perfect. It cost a necromancer almost nothing to set up some zombie patrols, and it could easily save their lives if someone worked out how to either get around the barrier or bring it down. If her master had brought down the barrier around the Nameless Citadel, it was possible those techniques could also be used against their castle. He would never share that information unless there was no other choice. He didn’t like to reveal his weaknesses, and he always liked to have a backup plan for his backup plan.

  “Amanda,” Vicky said, her voice taking on an air of formality. “Welcome back to Everton. It is the Council’s sincerest hope that you will enjoy your return and provide us with aid during this difficult time.”

  “Ah, yes. Timmy mentioned something along those lines. Would you be able to explain in further detail? I must confess that I have spent the time since I faked my death with matters other than those of state. I have a reas
onable knowledge of world politics, of course, but I suspect that you have access to far more thorough information than the general public.”

  Knowing vampires, Amanda most likely meant she had either spent her time indulging or sleeping since that was what vampires tended to do. It was like how most elves enjoyed pottery and gardening. There were exceptions, some bigger than others. Katie giggled. Avraniel’s approach to gardening involved cultivating plants that could kill people, and she didn’t have the patience for pottery unless she got to fill her pottery up with explosives afterward.

  “The short story is very simple,” Vicky said. “The Eternal Empire has been steadily increasing its military strength for generations. This goes over and above what you would expect given their political situation. There are signs they plan to use this strength against us, sooner rather than later. They finally have an emperor with the will and the political capital to resume open warfare with their neighbours and enemies, and we are very close to the top of their list, which is why we want you to lend us your aid. You are uniquely familiar with Everton’s magical defences, and your return will both bolster our ability to use those defences against our enemies and deny those enemies a chance to learn how they work by capturing you. We would also like you – and the others – to help us with a related matter.”

  “Another mission?” Timmy rubbed his chin. He hadn’t trimmed his facial hair during their jaunt into the desert, and Katie thought he looked a bit scruffy. “We only just got back.”

  Katie didn’t whine – she was in the presence of two councillors – but she was sorely tempted. Her master had a point, and she still had a crick in her neck from riding her zombie wyvern for so long. She wasn’t sure how her master managed to get so comfortable while flying on one. At one stage, he’d been laying down on his. She’d have to ask him later. It seemed like a handy skill to have.

  “It relates to Amanda.” Vicky gave them all an apologetic smile. “We wouldn’t even be talking about it if you hadn’t managed to bring her back. Are any of you familiar with the artefact known as the Eye of the Abyss.”

 

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