“Hey! What’s going on there?” Avraniel stomped down the corridor toward them. She must not have been pleased by what she saw because the temperature began to rise at an alarming rate and the torches on either side of the corridor flared. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, you damn rats? Leave Mr Sparkles alone!”
Mr Sparkles? Gerald gave a short burst of hysterical laughter. He’d almost been killed by something named Mr Sparkles? What kind of person gave a name like that to a legendary carnivorous plant? Oh wait, that was exactly the sort of thing Avraniel would do. But now that he looked at it more closely, the rose’s petals did sparkle a little bit.
The rats glanced at each other and then pulled their wires back. Avraniel rushed over to the rose, stroking its steely petals gently and whispering softly. The thing made a whining noise and pointed at Gerald with one of its thorny vines.
“Oh? Did the mean, old bureaucrat scare you?” Avraniel cooed, which was, quite frankly, one of the most terrifying things that Gerald had witnessed in the castle so far. “Don’t worry, Mr Sparkles, I won’t let him or those nasty rats hurt you again.”
“Me, hurt it?” Gerald blurted. He jabbed one finger at the rose. “Are you crazy? It was going to eat me!”
Avraniel’s eyes narrowed. The torches burned brighter. “He said that you hit him with a frying pan. You even threw a pogo stick at him.” That thing could talk? “Besides… he was only going to eat you a little bit.”
Gerald made a choking sound. “Even a little bit is too much!”
“And those rats didn’t have to electrocute him.” She glared at the rats wielding gardening tools. “And you’d better put those away before I melt them down and drown you in them, you little, toothy bastards.”
The rats glared back but wisely chose to put away their weaponry. They were good at dodging, but Avraniel could easily fill the entire corridor with fire.
“What were you doing here, idiot?” Avraniel sat down, and Mr Sparkles happily lowered his head into her lap, allowing her to run her fingers through his razor sharp petals.
“I was… uh… um…”
“Snooping?” There was a distinctly menacing edge to Avraniel’s voice now.
Gerald wondered what would happen if he said the wrong thing. Would she feed him and the rats to Mr Sparkles? Quick. He needed to think. He had to come up with an excuse that would save his life. “I was… I was admiring your wonderful garden!” He put on what he hoped was a winning smile.
Avraniel’s eyes narrowed until they were little more than slits of molten gold. Then she smiled and beckoned him closer, prompting Mr Sparkles to send a vine his way and drag him over by one leg. “It’s great, isn’t it? I’ve never been good with plants, but it turns out I’ve been messing with the wrong kinds of plants. I gave carnivorous and poisonous plants a go, and here we are.” She patted Mr Sparkles on the head again. “This guy is only a week old, and look how big he is already.” She cackled. “Give me a few years and a steady supply of food, and he’ll be ready to slaughter my enemies.” She paused. “I mean he’ll be ready to look really nice.”
“Right.” Gerald nodded and kept his smile plastered on his face. He might have to warn the councillor about Mr Sparkles. The last thing he needed was for a colossal, carnivorous rose to turn up and start eating Council members a few years down the road. “It was great seeing your garden, but I have to… uh… go… um… right now.”
“See you later then.” Avraniel gave him another sunny smile. It was beyond terrifying. “You’re always welcome to visit. I’ll even tell them not to eat you.”
Gerald gulped and hurried away, the rats trailing in his wake. Half of them turned invisible as they took to the walls and ceiling. If he visited again, he’d have to bring Katie. She could handle a few obnoxious plants. He’d ask Rembrandt to come too. He’d seen what the rat could do with a sword. He might have to start storing some herbicide away with his magic too, but most herbicides took at least a day or two to take effect. He could not afford to wait an entire day while something tried to eat him. One of the rats squeaked a warning, and he ducked just in time to avoid his pogo stick.
“You forgot that.” Avraniel smirked and eyed the rest of the objects he’d left behind. “You can come back and get the rest of your stuff later.”
* * *
It was another week before the corpse dealer arrived with Timmy’s order, and the Council still hadn’t found the golem yet. It would normally have taken the corpse dealer at least two weeks, but Timmy had always been one of his best customers.
The corpse dealer was an old man named Mike, who was somehow still alive despite the fact that he’d already looked positively ancient back when Timmy had first turned up at the castle. Sometimes, Timmy wondered if the old man was actually some kind of zombie. It would certainly have explained a lot, and it was always awkward watching Mike totter around while they negotiated. Thankfully, he’d brought along some help this time in the form of his grandson, Mike III. It was nice to see him keeping the business in the family. Timmy had met Mike II, but the other man had opted to become an accountant instead of a corpse dealer. It didn’t pay as well, but there were fewer corpses involved – most of the time.
“It’s nice to see you again, Mike.” Timmy shook the old man’s hand and eyed the caravan behind him critically.
The old geezer still had a heck of a handshake. It was like shaking hands with an ogre. Corpse dealing used some of the most complicated magic that Timmy knew of to store thousands of corpses in nothing more than half a dozen wagons without any of them spoiling. It really made him appreciate Gerald’s magic, and Timmy had already asked the bureaucrat to store a few things for him just in case any emergencies popped up during their missions. He’d also given the bureaucrat a full set of protective charms since Gerald seemed to be a magnet for trouble.
“How has business been?”
“It’s a little quiet,” Mike rasped. He adjusted the wide-brimmed hat he wore and leaned on his shovel. Timmy smiled. He could get along with a man who understood the importance of a quality shovel, and Mike’s was top of the line. “But you know how it is. There’s always something going on. As long as you necromancer folks are around, I don’t think I’ll have any trouble making a living. There’s always a plague or disaster to clean up too.” He glanced back at his grandson. “Heck, I’ve got enough saved up to retire, but I’ve got to teach young Mike there the ropes. I’ll give up the game once I’m sure he can take over.”
“Where did you pick up the corpses?” Timmy asked. Behind Mike, Mike III was fiddling with some of the seals on the wagons. It always took a bit of time to get the wagons ready for unloading. He’d asked Mike about the seals once. The old man had called them a trade secret, and Timmy knew better than to push. Having Mike deliver corpses en mass saved him a lot of time and effort.
“Here and there.” Mike shrugged. “People don’t like having bodies around, but burying someone takes time and a hole in the ground. They give me the corpses, I pay them, and then you pay me to bring the corpses to you.”
“Everybody wins.” Timmy nodded. “So… what is it going to cost me for all of them?”
“All of them?” Mike’s voice lost its wheeze and hardened. “You’re looking at two hundred and fifty for the lot of them, and that’s a bargain. This was a rushed order, you know.”
Timmy almost smiled. Mike hadn’t lasted this long in the business by being soft. “Are you joking?” He folded his arms over his chest. “You’ll get two hundred.”
“I hear you’re looking for a pardon.” Mike’s eyes crinkled. “And you’re working for the Council now. You’ll need corpses for that. Two hundred and forty.”
“Two hundred and ten. And how do you even know about that?” Timmy shook his head. Mike knew people everywhere.
“Two hundred and thirty.” Mike grinned. “I heard there’s trouble brewing, and you need these right away. If you don’t want them, there are plenty of others who do.”
r /> Timmy chuckled. The old man had come prepared. “Two hundred and thirty gold coins it is. Put them in the usual place, you know the drill. You might see a few of the littler horrors floating around while you’re down there, but you don’t have to worry.”
“I never do.” Mike pursed his lips. “Be careful, Timmy. Whatever trouble you’re getting into, you better not end up dead. You’re one of my best customers, and one of the few that’s never tried to double cross me. It’d hurt my bottom line if something happened to you.”
Timmy smiled. “I’m not going anywhere until Katie overthrows me. And why would I give you any trouble? It’s nice dealing with a corpse dealer who isn’t crazy.”
Mike slapped his knee and laughed before gesturing for his grandson to lead the wagons into the caves under the castle. “It’s a business to me, Timmy, an odd one, but a business all the same. It’s been a long trip. Do you mind if we head upstairs for a bit of food and drink before we move on?”
“Help yourselves, but don’t wander too far. I’ve got some interesting guests.”
“Oh?” Mike paused. “Anything I should be worried about?”
“Not really. There is a Council bureaucrat and an elf that likes fire far too much. Stay out of the elf’s way, and you shouldn’t have any trouble.”
“Don’t worry, I will.” Mike sighed. “To get to my age, you learn to avoid trouble.”
Timmy smiled to himself. Two hundred and thirty gold coins for thousands of corpses wasn’t a bad deal, but it wasn’t a good one either. It was, as was usually the case with Mike, somewhere in the middle. There were cheaper options out there, but Mike always delivered on time and with a minimum of fuss. Gerald had received reports of several golem sightings, and the frequency of the reports suggested that it wouldn’t be much longer before trouble reared its ugly head. Combined with the military posturing going on along the southern border, it would be up to them to handle whatever mischief the golem came up with.
Once evening came, Timmy decided that it was time to begin reanimating all the corpses he’d purchased. He always did his best work at night, and Katie was much the same.
“Time to get to work.” Timmy smiled sunnily at the corpses piled neatly in one of the great caves beneath the castle. It would have been a troubling sight for a normal person, but he and Katie were both far from normal. This was just another day at the office for them. “I hope you’ve been practicing because we’ve got a lot of corpses to reanimate.”
“I didn’t think there would be this many.” Katie made a face. She still wasn’t used to reanimating things on such a large scale. She preferred to work on smaller numbers of more exotic zombies. “We might as well get started.”
“Relax.” Timmy reached out to the nearest corpses with his magic. They were fresh, and it wasn’t like they’d be doing anything too tricky. Simple foot soldiers were all they needed. “We’re working together. Remember what I told you: keep it simple, get into a rhythm, and make sure none of them rebel or try to kill you.”
“I know, master.” Katie’s magic rippled outward. Even now, it was surprising how ominous it felt. Oh, yes, the Council would have loved to get their hands on her first, but she was his apprentice. She was a necromancer, not a stodgy librarian or law-enforcement mage.
Back when Timmy had first started necromancy, he hadn’t been particularly good at it. He certainly hadn’t had Katie’s natural talent. His biggest mistake had been failing to realise that in battle, it wasn’t necessary for all of his zombies to be perfect. Sure, in an ideal world, all of his zombies would have been masterpieces of necromancy, the kind that nightmares were made of. In real life, however, that simply wasn’t possible since it could take days, weeks, even months to put together something truly impressive. It was easier – and often much more effective – to have only a few elite zombies backed by a horde of lesser zombies. Numbers weren’t everything, but they certainly helped, especially since his troops were fearless, tireless, and absolutely loyal. As a result, he believed that it was extremely important for a necromancer to become good at quickly reanimating large numbers of zombies.
A small spark of his magic was enough to coax each corpse back to life. The process of reanimating dead flesh was something he’d done so many times that he no longer had to think about it. The key was to infuse the dead flesh with just enough magic to make it useful again while giving the zombie enough intelligence to obey simple instructions without becoming rebellious. He gestured sharply, and his magic rushed outward. He clenched his jaw for a moment as his mind connected to the rudimentary minds he’d given each zombie.
Beside him, Katie got to work as well, and he took careful note of her efficiency. Good, she was learning to be less extravagant with her magic. Just because she had a stupidly large amount of it for someone her age didn’t mean she could get into the habit of wasting it. There was always somebody with more magic, and efficiency usually won out in the end.
Still, with so many zombies to reanimate, it would be easier to supplement his magic with power from the things that lived under the castle. In exchange for certain freedoms, they were more than happy to provide him with magic upon request. He reached out to them, and for a few seconds, the sheer wrongness and otherness of their power nearly forced him to his knees. There was nothing even remotely human about the things under the castle. He shoved the feeling aside and concentrated on controlling the flow of power. The more of their power he used, the closer their minds got to his. Too much, and he’d either break his brain or go completely insane. Following his example, Katie drew upon their power too, and he had to put one hand out to steady her as she swayed, eyes fluttering shut.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Katie grimaced and reached up to massage her temple. “It feels weird, that’s all.”
He ruffled her hair. “Well, they are inter-dimensional beings bent on annihilating the world. It would be odd if their minds didn’t feel weird.” He poked her cheek. “But you should keep practicing. Remember, you can’t let them get too close unless you want to have your brain coming out of your ears. Then again…” He pointed at her hair.
“What? What’s happening?” Katie had read a lot of stories about what happened to people who got too close to things like the things that lived under the castle. None of those stories ended well.
He snickered. “Your hair. It’s sticking out all over the place.”
Katie gasped and reached up to touch her hair. Sure enough, it resembled an angry hedgehog. “Why does that keep happening?”
“I have no idea, but it is funny. It’s better than going insane too.” Timmy helped her pat her hair down, but it was no use. The moment they stopped, it stood right back up. “You should ask Sam about that later. He might know why.”
They worked for hours, reanimating thousands of corpses, but there were still thousands more to go. An individual zombie took so little of his magic to maintain that he could keep his going indefinitely, provided he didn’t have to use his magic on too many other things. But Katie still wasn’t efficient enough to handle all of hers, so he had to take charge of those as well. It was something they needed to work on. He wanted her to know what it was like to control thousands upon thousands of zombies.
“That’s enough for today.” Timmy stifled a chuckle. The rat on Katie’s shoulder was busy fanning the girl with a piece of cloth. “Let’s take them for a test run.”
He had his zombies dance a jig. It was glorious, albeit slightly disconcerting, to see thousands of zombies dancing in perfect unison. He had them add a bit of a flourish at the end, twirling on their toes – at least those who had toes – before flashing him a jaunty salute and falling still again. Katie tried to do the same, but her zombies didn’t dance so much as shamble, and their attempts to spin resulted in most of them falling over.
“You need to practice controlling large numbers of zombies more.” Timmy ruffled her hair. It was still sticking up, and he was curious to know how long t
hat would last. “One of these days, you’re going to get into a good, old-fashioned zombie throw down, and you’re going to need as many zombies as you can get.”
Katie tried to glare but ruined the effect by yawning cutely. “I’m working on it, master. Not everybody is as good at managing hordes of zombies as you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Timmy smiled fondly as she yawned again. Now that they’d finished the day’s work, she was beginning to flag. Working with so much magic for such a long period of time while managing the power from the things that lived under the castle was not easy. She looked like she would pass out any second now – and there she went. Her rat hopped onto his shoulder as he reached out to catch her. “Let’s get you up to bed. You’ll be horribly cranky if I let you sleep on the floor here.”
He ordered most of his zombies to stand down while sending some others to the armoury. Then he headed up to Katie’s room and tucked her in under the watchful eye of half a dozen pink-clad rats. He checked the protective seals around her room and shut the door on his way out. One of the rats nodded to him and then went back to patrolling the corridor outside her bedroom. Good minions were hard to find – and he was still looking – but Katie had already found hers.
* * *
Avraniel yawned and rolled out of bed. She flicked one hand at the curtains, and a blast that was more raw force than fire shoved them apart and let the sunshine in. Ah, yes, it was another beautiful morning – and she was one day closer to being allowed to blow things up again. Honestly, how hard could it be to find a golem?
The pot plant she kept beside the window hummed and flashed an impressive shade of orange while waving its leaves at her. She bent down and gave it an affectionate pat. It was nice having some plants around that actually liked her. Besides, who needed regular plants when she could have plants that were useful? Her plants didn’t just look good. They could kill her enemies, and in fairly hilarious fashion too. Admittedly, it would have been a shame if Gerald had gotten eaten, and she would have felt maybe a tiny, little bit bad about it, but he’d survived, and the rats had shown that they could be useful every now and then. She still didn’t like what they’d done to Mr Sparkles. They could have stopped him without electrocuting him. Oh well, she’d get her revenge on them later. Maybe she could feed one of them to Mr Sparkles. That would teach them to mess with her plants.
Unconventional Heroes 2 - Two Necromancers, an Army of Golems, and a Demon Lord Page 6