Timmy dodged her wild swings and pulled the clog out of her hands. “Katie, how I won isn’t the important thing. We’re necromancers, we don’t play fair. Standing around and making threatening speeches while flinging absurd amounts of magic everywhere is something people do in fairy tales and legends. In real life, if your opponent turns their back on you, then you kick them in the back – or whack them with a shovel.”
“I guess.” Katie covered her face with her hands. “But we are not telling the other necromancers about it. We’d never live it down. If they have another meeting, we’ll use your story. You beat her after an epic battle. I am not going to be the apprentice of someone who goes around bashing people over the head with a shovel when their backs are turned.” She glared at Gerald, and her shadows took on the shape of massive jaws filled with long teeth. “You won’t tell anyone what really happened, will you?”
Gerald held his hands up in surrender. “If anyone asks, the battle was truly spectacular.”
“Now that we’ve settled that, there’s one more thing I need to do.” Timmy pulled Katie into a headlock and poked her in the cheek. “Are you some kind of idiot? You almost got killed three or four times during the battle. I don’t have the time to train another apprentice!”
Katie squirmed away and shook her fist at him. “Are you trying to give me brain damage? If you do that again, you’ll have to file your own tax return next year!”
Timmy folded his arms over his chest. His voice hardened a fraction, and Katie snapped to attention. It wasn’t often that he lectured her, so she’d learned to listen when he did. “Katie, try to be more careful next time. If Gerald had been any slower with those shields of his, I would be looking for a new apprentice. And, as troublesome as you are, I’ve gotten used to having you around.”
“Fine, fine, I’ll be more careful.” The two rats on either side of her brandished their weapons. Normally, Timmy would have been annoyed at how they always took her side, but they’d proven their worth today. Katie clasped her hands behind her back and smirked. “Admit it, master, you’d be upset if I died.”
“Of course I’d be upset. I’d have to do my own paperwork, you brat.” Timmy glanced back at the elf. Gerald had finished putting on all the restraints. With that many magic and strength suppressors on, they should be able to handle the elf. “Good work, Gerald.”
The inspector nodded and then took a long look around. His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. His right eye began to twitch furiously, and Timmy wondered if he was about to have a stroke. That was the last thing he needed. “The forest!”
“Are you okay?” Timmy went over to support Gerald in case he keeled over. Neither he nor Katie had healing magic, and the healing potions they carried were better suited for treating battlefield injuries than strokes. “If you’re having a stroke, do you think you could, I don’t know, hold it until we get back to civilisation?”
“The forest!” Gerald shook his head back and forth, and Timmy turned to follow his gaze. Well, wasn’t that interesting? The elf’s magic had set a good portion of the forest nearby alight. “The elves are going to write to the Council and then… then the Council is going to kill me!”
“It’s not that bad –”
“Not that bad?” Gerald’s laughter was tinged with hysteria. “The elves wanted us to get her out of here so that she didn’t burn more of the forest down. Now look at it! It could take days to put the fire out.” He summoned a bag and breathed out of it. “I think I’m going to pass out.”
“Calm down.” Timmy patted Gerald on the back. Admittedly, they were at least partially to blame for the whole burning forest thing. But what were they supposed to do, not dodge? No way, Timmy enjoyed living. “If anyone asks, the forest was already like this when we found her. We stopped her from making even more fire.”
Katie nodded. “They’ll believe that. And as long as all three of us say the same thing, it’ll be our word against hers. Besides, once we negotiate with her and get her on our side, it won’t matter too much. The elves will be happy to be rid of her.”
“We hit her with a shovel.” Gerald rounded on Timmy. “No, you hit her with a shovel. How can we negotiate with her after that?”
“You do realise that she was trying to kill us only a few minutes ago, right?”
“What if you’d killed her?” Gerald looked like he was about to puke. “She’d be dead, the forest would be on fire, and the Council would throw the lot of us into prison!”
“But she’s not dead, only a bit of the forest is on fire, and so we’re fine. We’re all fine.” Timmy shook Gerald by the shoulders. “Calm down. Everything is going to be okay.”
Katie wasn’t normally one to enjoy other people panicking – okay, perhaps she was, but only a little. But it was too funny watching the two adults make idiots of themselves. Her master was right. The elf hadn’t given them any other choice but to knock her unconscious. Nevertheless, she couldn’t resist throwing some wood onto the bonfire that was Gerald’s rapid descent into panic. She knelt beside the elf and pretended to check her breathing. “Wait… I’m not sure she’s breathing anymore. I think you hit her too hard, master.”
“What?” Gerald practically threw Katie out of the way as he bent down to check if the elf was breathing. “Wait – Katie! She is breathing.”
Katie sniggered. “I’m sorry.” She wasn’t. “But my master is right. What’s done is done. We’ve got all those restraints on her, so we can at least try to negotiate with her when she wakes up.” She shuddered as she remembered how close she’d come to death against the elf. “Do you have any more restraints? She is very powerful, and if she gets free…”
“You do have a point there.” Gerald summoned a book. It was a voluminous tome covering all of the Council’s many rules and regulations concerning the treatment and restraint of potentially hostile prisoners. Reading through all of the legal gobbledygook soothed him. He stretched out one hand and some rope appeared, along with more magic and strength suppressors. “You can use these.” Rembrandt and Monet grabbed hold of the rope. In no time at all, they had the elf trussed up, and it wasn’t much longer before they had all the suppressors in place too. “Right, uh, nice work you two.”
“Rembrandt and Monet are very good at what they do.” Katie picked up Rembrandt and rubbed his back. “I’m glad they weren’t badly hurt. Rembrandt should be fine with a day’s rest and some healing potion, and Monet got away with barely more than a scratch.” Her stomach rumbled, and she blushed. “Now that we’ve got her tied up, we should leave. We can’t stay out here all day, and I need to eat something. Using a lot of magic always makes me hungry.” Rembrandt nudged her cheek with his nose. “Yes, we’ll get you something to eat too.”
“That sounds like a fine idea.” Some of the panic returned to Gerald’s eyes. “I also need time to think about what I’m going to tell my superiors. My report is going to end up at least a hundred pages long.”
Timmy shuddered. “You have to write a report?”
“Of course I do.” Gerald looked absolutely scandalised at the very thought of not filling out reams of paperwork. “Although I will have to do some creative editing.”
“You mean lying?”
Gerald sighed. “Yes.”
“At least you get paid to do paperwork.” Katie’s shadows drifted toward Timmy. “My master makes me do his paperwork for free.”
* * *
The elf awakened shortly after dusk. They’d made camp several miles away from the ridge in a clearing close to a river. Timmy had carried the elf back to their horses since Gerald’s back had mysteriously begun to pain him and Katie had spent all of her time fussing over Rembrandt and Monet. Honestly, it wasn’t like they’d been seriously hurt. And they were ninja rats. Weren’t they supposed to be tough? Katie could have used her shadows to carry the elf part of the way instead of leaving Timmy to do it alone.
For dinner, Timmy and the rats had cooked some more stew and a pair of rabbits
that had come courtesy of Gerald’s magic. All five of them dug into the food with gusto. Heavy use of magic always left a mage hungry. The smell of the food must have woken the elf. Her stomach gave an ominous and utterly inelegant rumble, and both rats reached for their weapons. They’d tied the elf to a tree, but Rembrandt hopped onto her shoulder with his sword held a hair’s breadth from her throat. They couldn’t be too careful, and the rat was good at holding a grudge.
The elf’s eyes opened, and Timmy found himself pinned by one of the most ferocious glares he’d ever seen. It was amazing how much rage the elf could convey with only her eyes. It was as if she was trying to set him alight with sheer willpower. Luckily for him, however, the magic suppressors were still in place. Otherwise, she probably could have set him on fire with a glare. Even so, the raw menace she managed to radiate was enough to make all of them take a big step back. Gerald even summoned a frying pan, which Katie was only too happy to grab with her shadows. On the elf’s shoulder, Rembrandt jabbed her with one paw and squeaked as threateningly as he could.
“Okay.” Timmy took a deep breath and put on his most serious expression. It was up to him to take charge. Gerald had buried his nose in another folder, and Katie had decided to use him as a human shield while she brandished the frying pan at the elf. “Here’s what we’re going to do elf: we’re going to negotiate.”
The elf said nothing, but her amber eyes took on a razor’s edge. Despite the fact that she was tied to a tree and bound with enough magic and strength suppressors to put down a magically talented elephant, her smile was distinctly predatory. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was silk and honey, smooth and sweet – at least, that’s how it would have sounded if it weren’t for all the danger and carefully leashed fury in every word. “I’m not in the habit of negotiating with people who hit me over the head with a shovel.”
“I told you.” Gerald waved the folder at Timmy. “We’re doomed!”
“Calm down.” Timmy scratched the back of his head. “To be fair, you were trying to kill us. You didn’t give us a chance to talk, so I didn’t have a choice when it came to the whole hitting you with a shovel thing.”
“You must be another one of those bounty hunters out to make a name for yourself.” The elf sneered and bared her teeth. Timmy leaned back. She acted more like a troll than an elf. “Although I’ve never a met a bounty hunter who brings rats and children to a fight.”
The child in question gave her most threatening growl, and the two rats made sounds of outrage. That did absolutely nothing to help their cause. Katie was too cute for her own good, and Rembrandt and Monet were hardly intimidating either.
“I didn’t have a choice about that either.” Timmy wasn’t getting anywhere. It was time for Gerald to try. He grabbed the older man and pushed him at the elf. “You see, we’re here on behalf of the Council, and Gerald is in charge.”
“What?” Gerald gaped. “I am not in charge –”
“The Council?” The elf made a disgusted sound and spat on the ground. “What do those limp-dicked bastards want with me? Or did those pansy-ass elves finally go crying to them for some help after I beat the crap out of their most recent search party? Bah! Cowards and fools, the lot of them.”
Timmy and Gerald stared, and even Rembrandt and Monet were taken aback. Elves, as a rule, did not swear. True, they often enjoyed insulting people, but they usually did it quite poetically, and they certainly didn’t refer to the esteemed members of the Council as –
“Limp-dicked?” Katie burst out laughing. “Gerald, can you summon a notepad for me? I need to write this down.” To Timmy’s horror, Gerald handed Katie a notepad. Now, there would be no stopping her. She’d be saying that for a week. Another round of giggles had Katie using her shadows to keep on her feet. “Pansy-ass?”
“Katie, language.” Timmy clamped one hand down on Gerald’s shoulder and squeezed. Hard. “Gerald, be a good man and tell the elf why we’re here.”
Gerald did. He also threw in maps, diagrams, puppets, and one talking parrot. Timmy wondered why he hadn’t gotten such a snazzy presentation. He also wondered if Gerald realised how bizarre his magic was. Storing books, shields, and dead rabbits was one thing, but a living parrot? That was weird – and scary. Could Gerald lock a person away with his magic?
To say that the elf was unimpressed would have been a massive understatement. It was like saying that Timmy’s shovel was pretty good. No, his shovel was completely awesome. The elf took a long, long look at them – the bureaucrat with a parrot perched on his shoulder and a stack of charts and puppets in his arms, the necromancer with a shovel, and the girl with two ninja rats – and almost passed out from laughing too much.
“Is this supposed to be some kind of joke? Or am I dead? This must be what hell is like, listening to you idiots prattle on.” The elf laughed until tears ran down her cheeks. “So, let me get this straight. You’re trying to make a team out of wanted criminals to help win a war that hasn’t started yet? And you really think that’s going to work, that we’re not going to kill each other the first chance we get?” She snorted. “Either you’re crazy, or you’ve eaten too many mushrooms. Some of the ones you can find in the forest are very trippy.” She bared her teeth. “I take back what I said earlier. The Council aren’t limp-dicked idiots – they’re senile, old bastards.”
“I was hoping you’d react more positively.” Gerald thumbed through a negotiating handbook that he’d summoned with his magic. There was nothing in it about dealing with ornery elves that were overly fond of fire. But as scared as he was of the elf, and he was very scared, he didn’t appreciate people making light of the Council or their decisions. Timmy had agreed to hear him out, and he’d thought the elf would do the same. The elves, after all, were supposed to be the most thoughtful and reasonable of Everton’s people.
“Hold on a second.” Timmy let his expression harden. They had a mission to complete, and Gerald hadn’t made any progress with the elf. “Let me handle this.” He caught the elf’s gaze and held it. “We were sent here to negotiate with you. The deal that Gerald is offering you is a good one. I suggest you take it. If you don’t, we can always give you to the other elves. I’m sure they’ll be happy to incarcerate you for the rest of your very, very long life. You could be in prison for centuries.”
The elf chuckled, and something dark and deadly flickered through her eyes. “I was wondering when you’d finally start acting like a proper necromancer instead of a bumbling fool. It’s nice to know you’ve got a spine to go with that shovel.” She nodded at Gerald. “Before I agree to anything, I have some questions for you. I want to know exactly what I’ll be getting in exchange for joining this team of yours.” Gerald opened his mouth to reply, but she talked right over him. “You included a lot in that speech, but it was still short on details. I want those details – all of them.”
The elf peppered Gerald with questions for an hour. She was worse than a cranky merchant with a shipload of perishable goods. When she was done, she still hadn’t agreed to a thing.
“But Everton is in danger!” Gerald flapped his arms about. Luckily, the parrot was already gone, sent back to wherever it was that Gerald sent things with his magic. “Surely, you care about your country?”
The elf shrugged as best she could. “Everton has never given a damn about me, and I’ve never given a damn about it.” She chuckled, and her lips curved up into a mocking smile. “You have all those files on me, but you don’t even know why the elves tossed me into the wilderness in the first place. Set a few buildings on fire – not on purpose, mind you – and suddenly you’re a homicidal maniac out for blood. You’d think I was the first person to ever struggle with their magic, and you’d think they’d have been more tolerant. They certainly spend a crap load of time praising their virtues to anyone stupid enough to listen. But, no, blow up a building or burn down a tree, and you’re the Evil One, destined to bring doom and calamity upon the world. Seriously, if an evil god had chosen me to stri
ke down the elves, I’d have done it by now.”
“Are we supposed to feel sorry for you?” Timmy asked dryly. He leaned over the elf, careful to keep out of biting range. “Maybe they were wrong to throw you out, but you’ve done a lot of things since then to warrant the way they’ve treated you. Heck, my master, crazy, old codger that he was, admired your talent for destruction.”
The elf made a show of studying her bound hands. “Well, I had to keep occupied somehow.” She glared up. “And don’t you dare feel sorry for me. I don’t want or need your pity. I made my choices, and I stand by those choices. But I wanted you to know that the elves aren’t the saints they claim to be.”
“Are you refusing the deal?” Gerald hated playing hardball, and he wasn’t very good at it, but being reasonable hadn’t worked so far. “Like Timmy said, we could give you back to the elves, but I don’t think they’d imprison you. No, they’d execute you. And you’re right. They aren’t the saints they claim to be. They’ll probably say you were killed trying to escape.”
Timmy patted Gerald on the back. He hadn’t thought the inspector had it in him.
“I didn’t say I was refusing.” The elf growled. “But I want to make sure that I understand what I’m signing up for. I need to know that once this whole war thing is done, once Everton is safe, I get to walk away. No questions asked. No warrants out for my arrest. Nothing. I want to be completely free.”
“That’s the deal.” Gerald frowned. “But where will you go?”
Timmy was curious too. He’d never met an elf so fond of fire, and he’d met only a handful that wanted to leave the forest.
“I don’t know yet, and I don’t really care. I just want to go somewhere else.” The elf cast a baleful glare at the forest around them. “I’ve spent years living in this damn forest. I’m sick of the trees.” The trees around them gave a low, ominous rumble and shook their branches back and forth. “See? This place hates me, it always has. I’ll find somewhere else. Maybe I’ll go live in the desert. Who knows, I might spend a few years with the dwarves. Those short bastards are rough around the edges, but they do like fire. I could even catch a ship somewhere and find myself a nice beach. I don’t really care where I go, as long as it’s not here. But I’d prefer to go without a big target on my back.”
Two Necromancers, a Bureaucrat, and an Elf Page 7