“Look at that.” Avraniel tilted her head to one side. “Her wings broke. The twerp is falling again.”
“Oh, for crying out loud.” Timmy reached out to his zombie wyverns with his magic. One of them dove toward Katie, and the girl quickly formed several shadowy limbs to latch onto it. “Next time, Avraniel, let me handle it, or I’ll throw you out the window.”
“Really?” The elf put her hands on her hips and sneered. “I’d like to see you try.” She held his gaze for a moment and then sauntered out of the room, most likely to raid the castle’s pantries again. It might have had something to do with her magic or her constant squabbling with the rats, but she ate more than any elf he’d ever heard of. But she could be charming when she needed to be. Apparently, all of the cooks loved her. One of them, the poor, deluded fool, had even called her sweet. His lips curled. Clever. She knew better than to pick fights with the people who made her food.
The zombie wyvern flapped back up to the window, and Katie jumped inside. Her hair was a mess, her glasses were askew, and her eyes burned with the fire of a billion suns. She was filled with the righteous fury of every apprentice that had ever been wronged in the entire history of forever, and it gave her a truly imposing aura. It didn’t help that he was the only one there. Without Avraniel around, there was only one person for her to vent her rage at.
“You!”
Shadows leapt from every corner of the room, ripping through shelves and knocking over furniture. Timmy was ready. He dodged through the shadows, working his way forward until he could give her a gentle tap on the shoulder with his shovel. It wasn’t enough to hurt her, but it was a reminder of who was in charge. The shadows receded, pooling around her feet and lapping at his boots. He had a vague impression of teeth and claws before her magic stilled.
“Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I told you the zombie wyverns would catch you, and they did.” He paused and then grabbed her by the scruff of her robes. She was already angry with him, so he might as well get this over with. This could also serve as another lesson in why wearing voluminous robes that people could grab was a bad idea. “But you know what they say? If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.”
“Don’t you dare throw me out that window, master!” Katie squirmed and kicked. “Don’t you – ah!”
It took them another three tries, but Katie eventually learned how to fly. She wasn’t the most graceful thing in the air, but it was a lot better than watching her fall to her doom. The first thing she did when she’d learned how to fly was to grab him and then leap out of the window before letting go. He smiled. What a vengeful apprentice he’d raised.
One of his zombie wyverns immediately banked over to catch him, and he had it drop him off near the dining room. When Katie saw that he’d beaten her to the dining room, she did her best to kill him with her eyes all over again. Alas, she failed yet again although he’d have to be careful. Now that he thought about it, she was making a zombie gorgon-salamander that absolutely could kill things with its eyes.
“Right,” Timmy said as he leaned to the side to avoid the arrow that the new rat on Katie’s shoulder fired at him. Interesting. Did the rats have a roster to determine who got to follow Katie around? A small explosion shook the room, but Katie had the good sense to protect the food with her shadows. He’d have to patch that part of the wall later though. “Let’s eat dinner.”
As usual, he sat at the head of the table with Katie opposite him. It let him keep an eye on her, and it gave him the maximum amount of time to react to whatever shenanigans her rats got up to. On the right side of the table was Avraniel while Gerald sat on the left.
Also as usual, Avraniel was playing her nightly game of taunt the angry rat with the rat that Katie had brought. And, just like it always did, it rapidly degenerated into her trying to kill the rat after the rodent stole a grape off her plate. It was amazing that after all the hardships she’d endured in a life of crime, violence, and general malevolence that the theft of a single grape was enough to warrant a response. Thankfully, she wasn’t crazy enough to risk harming the food. Instead, she was reduced to trying to stab the rat with her dessert fork, and it was a very agile rat.
In the meantime, Gerald seemed perfectly content to enjoy his food at a leisurely pace while he filled out some paperwork. There was something oddly endearing about watching the bureaucrat almost poke himself in the eye with a spoonful of soup while reviewing files that appeared out of thin air before vanishing back into whatever nebulous place his magic stored things. The only thing that puzzled Timmy was how much of the paperwork seemed to be new. Where on earth was he getting it? It wouldn’t have surprised him if Gerald had every single piece of paperwork known to man stored away, but it also wouldn’t have surprised him if the bureaucrat had made arrangements to have all his extra paperwork mailed to the castle, which was a bad, bad thing. Where there was some paperwork, more was sure to follow.
Timmy should know.
The paperwork they’d had to fill out after the last mission had been soul-destroying. The Council had wanted thorough and detailed reports from each of them, along with an itemised account of all expenses accrued and all damage to property and/or persons inflicted. It hadn’t helped that Avraniel’s reports had been nothing more than a few badly written sentences about how they’d kicked the dragon’s ass because it was a stupid, old bastard. And that had been on her second attempt. She’d burnt the first attempt after Gerald had informed her that perhaps she shouldn’t include so much profanity, especially if it was directed at the Council. It was one thing to call them limp-dicked bastards when they weren’t around. It was quite another to call them that in a report addressed to them. Besides, some of the Council members were women. They couldn’t be limp-dicked.
In the end, Gerald had wisely decided that it would be better for all of them if he wrote Avraniel’s report for her. The fact that she’d threatened him had probably helped speed his decision along. Freed from having to write her own report, Avraniel had spent most of her spare time near the castle’s largest furnace, watching over the dragon egg that she’d found. It hadn’t done anything yet, but given Timmy’s luck, it wouldn’t be long now before a giant, winged, reptilian death machine of fiery doom emerged thinking that Avraniel was its mother.
On the upside, Timmy had only done half of his report before fobbing the rest off on Katie with the excuse that it would help educate her about managing the castle’s affairs after she overthrew him. That was a complete lie, of course, but he wasn’t going to sit there and fill out all that paperwork. That was what apprentices were for.
“Just wait until my dragon hatches.” Avraniel jabbed her fork at the rat. Her smile was positively terrifying. The last thing he needed was a pyromaniac with a dragon. “We’ll burn you first, you damn rodent, and then we’ll go after the Council. Those pathetic bastards won’t know what hit them. Then I’ll go after those pansy, little-dick, loser elves. I’ll burn them right in their houses and –”
Timmy cleared his throat and looked pointedly at Gerald, who had stopped doing his paperwork. As the Council’s representative amongst them, one of his duties was to report any dangerous changes in behaviour.
“Oh, come on, I’m not going to burn him.” Trust the elf to completely miss the point. “I mean he’s kind of an idiot, but he’s okay most of the time, and he’s good at doing my paperwork.” Timmy cleared his throat again. “Ah, I get it.” She gave Gerald the fakest smile that Timmy had ever seen. “Don’t worry, everything I said was only a joke. Once my dragon hatches, I won’t try to assassinate the Council. I’ll… I don’t know, go hug a unicorn or something, maybe frolic in a grassy meadow with butterflies and puppies, or some stupid crap like that.”
And then she began to cackle.
Timmy was not a coward. No necromancer who’d seen the things he’d seen – or who’d shovelled to death the nightmarish horrors he’d shovelled to death – could be a coward. Indeed, he actually found his apprentice’s maniacal cackli
ng to be quite adorable even if it was usually accompanied by an attempt to kill him. But Avraniel’s cackling was chilling. It was like having a merry band of musically inclined demons tap dance over his grave.
Yet there was something strangely domestic about the scene: Avraniel cackling, the rat trying to poke her in the eye, Katie downing another glass of milk in what he knew would be a futile attempt to get taller, and Gerald wordlessly filling out the paperwork necessary to claim compensation for working in a dangerous environment. It gave Timmy a warm and fuzzy feeling, or perhaps that was the wine. Then Gerald shot out of his chair, knocked his glass of water at Timmy’s head, and summoned something with his magic.
Timmy ducked the errant glass of water and then peered at what Gerald had summoned. It was a glowing crystal orb covered with countless runes and seals, and it was flashing more and more quickly. The bureaucrat’s eyes widened comically, and his mouth opened and closed several times. In his robes, he closely resembled a lanky, grey fish that had been marooned on dry land.
“Gerald, please tell me that flashing thing isn’t a bomb.” Timmy sighed. “Because I’m not finished eating yet, and I really like this dining room the way it is.”
“A bomb?” Gerald twitched. He was very twitchy despite the fact that nothing was going to get him while he was inside the castle. Timmy had asked the rats to keep an eye on the other man, and they’d agreed. “No, it’s not a bomb. It’s a two-way scrying sphere.”
“A scrying sphere?” Timmy had run into those before, but he wasn’t overly fond of them. They were handy for communicating across large distances, but nothing could ever replace the simple joy of delivering a message atop a zombie dragon carrying half a dozen zombie bears. “What does the flashing mean?”
“It’s a code.” Gerald frowned. “The colour it’s flashing indicates which Council member is trying to communicate, and the pattern tells me what the message is. It’s less draining than trying to project complete images and sound although it can do that too.”
Katie was studying the sphere intently. Knowing her, it wouldn’t be long before she broke the code. As for her rat, the rodent had pulled out a plate of its own and was using the distraction to help itself to more potatoes. “That seems complicated. Why not design it so that only your magic can activate it?”
Gerald made a face. “That would be easier, I suppose, but some of the older members of the Council prefer to do things the old-fashioned way. The current code has been in use for more than a century. It’s widely considered unbreakable.”
“So, what is it saying? And how much longer is it going to keep doing that?” Timmy raised one hand to shield his eyes. It was hard to eat with that thing flashing. Opposite Gerald, Avraniel was eyeing the sphere with a small grin on her face. Knowing her, she was wondering how much she’d get for it if she sold it on the black market.
“Hmm…” Gerald summoned a thick book and flipped through it. “I’m not sure. This is the first time I’ve seen this particular pattern. Let me have a look – what?” he screeched.
“What now?” Timmy put his fork down. He’d learned it was always better not to have a fork in his hand when he got bad news. He’d almost poked one of his own eyes out that way after face palming when he’d received a letter informing him that the ship carrying the kraken beak he’d ordered had been sunk by a kraken. “Gerald?”
“She’s coming here!” The bureaucrat’s face had gone very pale. “Here!”
Timmy’s brows furrowed. “Who is coming here, and when can we expect them?”
“Councillor Victoria Charlotte Winters, Supreme Cleric of the Order of the Blessed Dawn is coming here – and she’s coming here right now!”
Timmy felt the beginnings of a migraine. “Since when has she been a member of the Council? She wasn’t one before.”
“About three days. Gerald was hyperventilating, but he had the good sense to summon a brown paper bag.
“And why didn’t you tell me that?” Timmy massaged his temples. He could have spent the past three days plotting. Already, he’d come up with at least four different ways to take advantage of this information, of which only two were actually evil.
“Because I didn’t think it would change anything!” Gerald dragged in another deep, deep breath and somehow managed to inhale his paper bag. He gagged and clutched at his throat. “Help!” He gasped. “Choking!”
Timmy got up and gave Gerald a stout slap over the back. The paper bag flew out of his mouth. “Better?”
“Yes, thank you.” Gerald wheezed and tried to down a glass of water, but his hands were shaking so badly that most of it ended up on his face. “I didn’t think she’d come here. There were also special circumstances surrounding her election to Supreme Cleric that required delicate handling.” He summoned a handkerchief and dabbed at his face. Timmy had to grab it before Gerald could inhale it too. “Council members aren’t supposed to visit people on probation. It’s highly irregular!”
“And you’re sure she’s coming here now?” Gerald looked like he was about to throw up, and Timmy surreptitiously reclaimed the paper bag. The bureaucrat might need it soon.
“There are permits for this sort of thing, but I haven’t completed or received any of them. Then there are all the forms she’s supposed to sign, and I’m supposed to countersign, and –”
“Relax.” Timmy patted Gerald on the back and smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. “I know exactly what to do.” Gerald turned to him with hope shining in his eyes, and Timmy gestured at the quiet servant who had been standing in one corner throughout dinner. “Get more wine. Lots of wine.”
* * *
Katie had become extremely familiar with the castle’s defences. Her master, despite how foolish and lackadaisical he could appear, was not someone who left security to chance. The castle wasn’t just their home – it was their fortress. Anyone who tried to enter it uninvited was not going to have a fun time, and that had been true even before the ninja rats had moved in.
The most obvious of the castle’s defences were the many zombies that patrolled it. Gary, her favourite zombie bear, was a mainstay at the drawbridge while Mike, a zombie salamander-centaur, led the zombies patrolling the woods nearby and spent most of his time incinerating or trampling the occasional bandit or thief. There were others too. Her master had flying zombies patrolling the sky at all hours of the day and night, along with countless zombies patrolling the castle’s interior and walls. Then there were the zombies he’d hidden in the surrounding countryside. He had at least five zombie hydras lurking in dens nearby, and a dozen zombie wolf packs watching the main roads and hunting trails. Her master’s ability to maintain a link to all of these zombies was truly one of the most impressive things about him. Sure, she had some of her own zombies on patrol too, but nowhere near as many.
There were also the things that lived under the castle. In accordance with the deals they’d made with her master and his predecessors, some of them had agreed to protect the castle. For shape-shifting, protoplasmic horrors that had vowed to one day wipe out the world, they could be surprisingly friendly. Their leader, Sam, could usually be found in the kitchens protecting the castle’s cake – which was a polite way of saying that he ate most of it. The others preferred to spend their time outside, hunting the local wildlife and menacing the occasional wandering villager. The last group of mercenaries to run afoul of one of Sam’s people had met their ends in fairly gruesome fashion. Katie had learned what happened when a giant sphere made of teeth and claws rolled over a large group of people.
Anyone who managed to get past all the zombies, inter-dimensional horrors, and the ninja rats deserved a medal and a letter of commendation before her master got them with whatever nightmarish abomination he’d spent the past week building. If that wasn’t enough, they now had an elf in the castle with a serious inclination toward fiery violence. Assuming that Avraniel didn’t blow up the castle while trying to defend it, the elf was easily worth her weight in go
ld in a fight.
But that still wasn’t everything. Like any good necromancer who’d survived past the age of twelve, her master was paranoid although he did a good job of hiding it. It was only natural. Careless necromancers became dead necromancers very quickly. He’d spent years studying runes, seals, and anything else he could get his hands on to not only make his shovels but also protect the castle. Most of what he’d learned had originally been used by wielders of holy magic, and she knew he derived a certain sense of amusement from twisting that power to his own ends. Was there anything more hilarious than barring an angry cleric from their castle with a barrier based on holy magic? She giggled. Not much.
The castle was protected from most forms of magical attack using modified spells that drew from the almost infinite power of the things that lived under the castle. Anyone who wasn’t a master of protective magic would have a hard time breaking through them. Heck, even Avraniel would have a hard time breaking in. Her master had also set up barriers to keep out beings of various kinds and to stop teleportation onto the castle grounds.
Katie had helped her master summon all manner of malevolent and mischievous entities into the unprotected lairs of their enemies. The ensuing chaos was always very therapeutic. Her favourite time had been when they’d summoned a giant… demon… thing into the fortress of a necromancer who’d sent an assassin specifically to kill her. She smiled fondly. Her master never got overly upset about attempts to kill him, but he did not like it when their enemies went after her.
Magic was also necessary to keep a lid on all the various spirits and other horrors that haunted the castle. The right magic kept those things either locked away or too weak to cause any major trouble. It would have been hard to put together a good zombie if they had to fight off ghosts and wraiths every couple of minutes. Then again, the wailing of a wraith could be great inspiration although it was annoying to have to tromp around the castle for another bathroom because a wraith had frozen the water in her toilet solid.
Unconventional Heroes 2 - Two Necromancers, an Army of Golems, and a Demon Lord Page 2