“Yes,” Lady Barb said. “And don’t you know it’s dangerous to get what you wish for?”
Emily nodded, but said nothing. In the distance, she heard howling.
The second attack was about to begin.
Chapter Twenty-One (Emily1)
“I GUESS THE STORM DIDN’T DO any damage,” Emily said, as she crawled out from under the cloak. She’d fallen asleep at one point, despite the flickers of tainted magic, only to jerk awake again and again as she remembered where she was. “The landscape looks as hellish as ever.”
“There’s little to damage here,” Cat said. The rings around his eyes were so dark he looked as if he’d been punched twice. He hadn’t slept any better than she had. “It would have been a different story if we’d been caught in the open.”
Emily nodded. She’d read the reports written by people who’d travelled through the Blighted Lands. The storms killed or transformed anyone stupid enough to stay outside, often warping them beyond recognition. She remembered the horrifically mutilated people she’d seen in the village and shuddered. Some of them must have walked through a storm, perhaps hoping it would put them out of their misery. Others might just have been left exposed, if a storm blew over the village. She winced at the thought, then peered north. The skies were as clear as they ever got, in the Blighted Lands, but there was no sign of pursuit. They seemed to have made a clean getaway.
Cat stretched, rubbing his back. “Shall we go?”
“Yeah,” Emily said. Her body ached too, but there was nothing she could do about it. She wanted a bath and sleep in a proper bed... she shook her head. She wasn’t going to get either. “Let’s go.”
She forced herself to walk down the road, keeping a wary eye out for unpleasant surprises. The road seemed to twist and turn randomly, as if it had been picked up by an angry god, twisted out of shape and then dropped back on the ground. The necromancers were mad, she reminded herself. The twisted road might have made perfect sense to them. And it was possible they’d drawn the roads to avoid places of particular danger. She saw faint hints of trouble, whorls of tainted magic, spinning in the distance. They gave them a wide berth as they kept walking. There was no point in running into more trouble.
We’ll be in enough trouble when we reach our destination, she thought. The knapsack was charmed, but the batteries still felt heavy. We might have to evade the necromancer long enough to reignite the nexus point and take control.
She felt the oath pushing and prodding at her as the road twisted again, diving into a barren gully before rising up again and heading further south. The urge to move faster, to risk levitation - or teleporting - was almost overwhelming. She told herself, firmly, that she couldn’t complete the oath if she died on the way. The urge faded slightly, but remained at the back of her mind. She gritted her teeth and kept walking. She couldn’t allow it to push her too hard. They’d have to stop and sleep somewhere along the way.
The landscape grew worse the further they walked. It looked as if a war had been fought centuries ago, with weapons and technologies alien to the modern world. She saw giant craters and flattened towns, monstrous structures that had been battered so badly it was impossible to tell what they’d been. And flickers of raw magic danced everywhere, making it hard to relax. She felt unseen eyes watching her, hints of danger lurking at the corner of her eyes. Cat looked as ill at ease as she did, despite everything. She found herself wishing, just for a moment, that they dared teleport further south. Perhaps they could storm the castle instead of trying to sneak inside...
“The necromancers are draining the land,” Cat said, as they stumbled over a ruined village just like the one they’d left. “They’re even killing their slaves.”
Emily grimaced. She’d met more than her fair share of noblemen who regarded commoners as chattel, using them as they pleased, but most of them understood they had to keep the commoners alive if they wanted to use them. They had to leave the peasants enough food to get them through the winter, they had to protect them against outside threats. The necromancers were too crazy to care they were draining the land dry, steadily killing everyone... including themselves. When they ran out of people, they’d run out of magic and life itself. And then they’d wink out of existence.
And if someone on the other side of the mountains realizes how fragile life is here, she thought numbly, they might start trying to speed up the process.
She didn’t want to think about it, but the prospect haunted her. She was surprised no one had thought of it already. Perhaps there was some reason why it couldn’t be done. Or... perhaps they’d tried and failed. Or... who knew? She was tempted to ask, but she feared that merely asking would give people ideas. And who knew what might happen then? She might wind up being inadvertently responsible for genocide. She could understand the logic, but it would be genocide. And...
“Emily,” Cat hissed. “Look!”
Emily followed his pointing finger. Two horsemen were cantering along the road, coming towards them. Horsemen? She’d never seen the necromancers ride horses... she couldn’t remember seeing King Randor riding a horse, after his transformation. Who were they? No, what were they? She could sense the nexus of dark magic surrounding them even from afar.
“Hide,” Cat said. “We don’t want them to see us.”
Emily nodded and followed him off the road. The landscape was rough, the air hazy enough to hide them if they used a glamor or two. The Blighted Lands were prone to mirages and illusions, even in low-magic regions. They should be able to hide, if they hadn’t already been spotted. They might even have been mistaken for a mirage. She hid behind a rock, opening her senses as much as possible. The two figures were cantering closer, wrapped in shells of dark magic. Whatever they were, they were bad. She couldn’t look too closely. It was like staring at something utterly inhuman.
She sensed a wave of magic, an instant before the rock exploded. The force of the impact picked her up and threw her through the air, spinning madly before an invisible - and yet foul - spell caught Emily and yanked her back. She saw two hooded figures - their faces reptilian, their eyes glowing a sickly yellow - waving wands at her, dark magic crackling around them as they drew her closer. She reached out with her own magic, launching a force punch at them and then cancelling their spell. Magic wavered as her punch struck them, giving her a chance to float to the ground. They seemed taken aback by her magic.
A fireball crackled through the air and struck their wards. Cat stood on another rock, throwing fireball after fireball at the two figures. One jabbed his wand in Cat's direction, unleashing a sickly yellow light that smashed into the rock and blew it to fragments. The other waved a wand at Emily, casting a spell she didn’t recognize. Emily ducked to one side, then extended a tendril of magic towards them. Cat distracted them while she pressed her magic against their wards, sniffed out the weak points and pushed a spell through them. They should have been frozen, unable to move until she released the spell. Instead, their bodies glowed with sickly yellow light. Emily recoiled, feeling as if she’d touched something foul beyond words.
They stumbled forward, one pointing his finger at her and reciting a spell in a language she didn’t recognize. She didn’t give him a chance to finish it. Instead, she cast another force punch and knocked him back, into his horse. His body disintegrated into dust. His cloak fell, landing on the ground. The other creature turned and started to run. Cat blasted him in the back before he could escape. He fell and hit the ground too.
Emily glanced at Cat. “What the hell are they?”
“I don’t know.” Cat sounded shaken. “I’ve never heard of anything like them.”
Emily hesitated - her instincts were telling her to put as much distance between herself and the body as possible - and then crept forward, magic at the ready. The figure lay still, utterly unmoving. She reached towards the remaining body, then remembered herself and cast a spell to flip the body over. Up close, the face was definitely inhuman. It looked like a cro
ss between a reptile and a human, right down to the bulging eyes, protruding nose and scaly skin. A demihuman? It was quite possible. Gorgons, werewolves, vampires, dwarves and mermaids had all come from human stock. And yet, she couldn’t help feeling as if she was looking at something alien.
She forced herself to touch the body, but as gingerly as possible. A whirlwind of impressions assailed her mind, from sickly yellow light to visions, flashes of visions of a necromancer looming over her and people cowering from her... the necromancer had done something to the creature, she thought; the necromancer had turned it into a monstrous enforcer. She thought she saw the creature attacking a village, punishing everyone for the crimes of a few... the images tore at her mind, a grim reminder of the true horror of the Blighted Lands. The creatures they’d killed had kept everyone else in line for their masters.
“They’re enforcers,” she said. She wondered, sourly, what the necromancer had done to empower them. She’d never seen anything like the sickly yellow light before. The Gorgon’s magic was odd, by human standards, but as foul. “They keep everyone else under control.”
“Strong enough to intimidate both slaves and orcs,” Cat agreed. He sounded like he’d had an idea. “Emily... we could wear the cloaks.”
Emily recoiled. “Cat...”
“I’m serious,” Cat said. He carefully removed and searched the cloak. “We wear these, with a little glamor. And ride their horses. No one will stop us.”
“Really.” Emily looked at the other body, nothing more than dust. “Are you crazy?”
“No.” Cat looked back at her. “It’ll be quicker if we ride their horses. And if we look like we belong, no one will try to stop us.”
Emily shuddered, barely able to force herself to pick up the other cloak and shake out the dust. It felt disgusting against her skin, although her detection spells revealed nothing to fear. Whoever had woven the cloak had designed it to provide at least some protection against the tainted magic... she frowned, remembering Void’s warnings about Rangka. He might just have retained enough sanity to make real use of his powers. And he’d clearly pushed the limits further than anyone else. She looked back at the intact body and shuddered. He’d used the darkest of magics to bind the enforcer to his will.
They didn’t even give us a chance to surrender, she thought. That made no sense. Surely, the necromancer would have wanted to know who they were - or why they’d entered the Blighted Lands. If nothing else, the necromancer would have wanted to sacrifice them both for power. But his servants had thrown the opportunity away. They made no attempt to take us prisoner. They just tried to kill us.
“Fine.” She pulled the cloak over her head, grimacing. “I hope you’re right.”
She put the thought out of her mind as she searched the saddlebags. All she found at first was a scrap of parchment - chat parchment, although the charms were already fading - and a black wand that felt so evil she couldn’t bring herself to touch it with her bare hand. The sense of blood and suffering lingered around the wooden wand like a foul stench. They’d used it to torture, she realized numbly; they’d used it to hurl torture curses at people who couldn’t hope to resist, even for a second. She donned her gloves, picked up the wand and snapped it in two. The remainder of the saddlebags were empty, save for a packet of weird-smelling meat dripping with too-bright blood. Uncooked human flesh? Or orcish flesh? Emily didn’t want to know. She threw that away too. If there were any creatures watching them from a distance, they could have the meat.
The horse eyed her warily as she caught the reins and scrambled into the oddly-designed saddle. There was a difference, she’d been assured, between male and female saddles, but this seemed designed for neither. She eyed the body, wondering if it was further removed from the human baseline than she’d thought. The Gorgon was human enough - she looked a normal human, save for greyish skin and snakes for hair - but the enforcer might be very different. The arms and legs looked weirdly proportioned. She wondered, again, if she was looking at something alien.
Unlikely, she told herself sternly. Cat shoved the body off the road, then vaporized it. You know how magic can warp people.
She tried not to think about it as Cat jumped into the saddle, wincing uncomfortably as he wheeled the horse around and started to ride south. Emily followed, frowning slightly as the horse obeyed without a moment’s hesitation. She’d always had the impression that horses - even docile horses - were just biding their time before they threw her into a ditch and ran away, but this one seemed completely broken. She almost relaxed as the horse picked up speed. The ride would have been enjoyable, if they hadn’t been in the Blighted Lands. She was almost tempted to keep the horse.
“We don’t have that far to go,” Cat called, as his horse kicked up dust. “Really.”
We could be there by now if we were driving a car, Emily thought. The map had made the journey look short, but reality was nowhere near so obliging. She’d planned for several days of walking before they reached their destination. But I suppose we would have been noticed if we’d driven through the wasteland.
She tensed as they spotted another pair of riders heading towards them. Cat winked at her, then spurred his horse forward. Emily followed, checking and rechecking the glamor. It would help if the enemy saw what they expected to see, but it was quite possible - if they had magic - that they’d realize the glamor existed even if they couldn’t see through it. And then they’d wonder what the enforcers were trying to hide.
Their ugly mugs, Emily thought. But they might not see themselves as ugly...
She braced herself, ready to fight, but the newcomers just galloped past them and vanished into the distance. Emily’s imagination suggested they were already turning around, or using the chat parchments to alert someone further south, yet... she glanced back and saw the enforcers vanish into the distance. They’d suspected nothing. Cat grinned as he looked back at her, then led her further south. Emily shook her head in disbelief. She’d met a few aristocrats who’d flatly refused to believe commoners could mimic their betters, as if there was a natural law forbidding commoners from wearing expensive clothes, but the enforcers took the biscuit. Had it honestly never occurred to them someone could steal their clothes?
They might not be very intelligent, she reminded herself. Intelligent minions could become a threat.
The hours wore on as they cantered down the road and through a pair of plantations. The slaves remained as dull as before, but the more intelligent villagers threw themselves to the ground, prostrating themselves in front of the enforcers. Emily’s lips tightened with disgust as they galloped on, kicking dust into the villagers’ mouths and eyes. She understood the importance of showing proper respect, but there were limits. She hated to think what would happen to someone who was always given such respect. They’d either become a monster, if they thought it their due, or be blindsided by something their sycophants had feared to bring to their attention. Even King Randor had known not to take sycophants too seriously.
She felt herself growing sore as the day slowly turned to night. Cat’s horse slowed to a walk, but he insisted they keep moving until they reached the next village. Emily would have preferred to camp well away from anyone else, even though they didn’t have anywhere near enough food for the horses. The villagers saw them, in their cloaks and glamors, and hurried to give them the best of everything. Emily told herself, firmly, not to get used to it. The last set of villagers had betrayed them. This set would do the same, if they realized who’d really come to dinner.
“They seemed surprised we wanted the barn,” Cat said. “And no food for us.”
“We have supplies,” Emily said. Her entire body ached from top to bottom. She felt as if she was going to bruise tomorrow. She undressed and rubbed potion into her body, too sore to care about Cat watching her. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen her naked before. “We don’t have to take anything from them.”
“Not for us, at least,” Cat said. “You realize how much g
round we’ve covered?”
“Not enough,” Emily said. She forced herself to recall the map. It was hard to be sure - the map had been so vague she had a feeling it was worse than useless - but they’d travelled quite some distance on horseback. “We’re still a day or two from our destination.”
“Less than that,” Cat assured her. “We’ll be there sooner than you think.”
Emily shivered. “And then the real work begins,” she said. The oath niggled at her mind, even as she lay on the straw and tried to sleep. “Let’s just hope the necromancer isn’t home.”
Chapter Twenty-Two (Emily2)
THE NECROMANCER WAS A DISTANT PRESENCE, lurking at the back of Emily’s mind, as the northern force threw itself against the defenses. Emily watched numbly as hundreds of orcs died, their fellows scrambling over their dead bodies and continuing the charge until they too were stopped in their tracks. It was a never-ending torrent of death, of monsters screaming and howling as they were lashed on by their master. Sir Roger grew grimmer as the charge continued, finally ordering the musketmen into the fray. The orcs wavered and broke, bare seconds before they would have hit the wall. Emily breathed a sigh of relief as they fell back in disarray, leaving their swords on the battlefield as well as legions of dead. They didn’t even have time to collect their bodies.
Lady Barb moved up beside her. “They haven’t gone far,” she said. “They’ll be regrouping and considering their next move.”
Emily frowned. “I thought they’d just keep coming until we wiped them out.”
“Or they killed us?” Lady Barb shook her head. “Think about it. That necromancer over there” - she waved her hand southwards - “is not going to want to weaken himself to the point his rivals can overwhelm his lands. If he’s thinking even remotely clearly, he’ll be summoning help from his allies and trying to think of a better way to get at us.”
Oathkeeper (Schooled in Magic Book 20) Page 20