Oathkeeper (Schooled in Magic Book 20)

by Christopher Nuttall

  Assuming I survive long enough to get them, she thought. Another explosion shook the ground. They’re pressing their advantage.

  She looked up, just in time to see two dark shapes fly overhead. Penny muttered a spell, a simple cancellation spell. The creatures fell and hit the ground, one striking his head hard enough to crack the scaly skull. The other landed neatly and came at them, holding up claws that glowed with eerie yellow fire. Penny snapped another spell, crushing the overseer with an invisible force. Emily felt sick.

  “Emily.” Sergeant Miles ran up beside her, his face grim. “Hold still.”

  Emily gritted her teeth as Sergeant Miles ran his hand over her back, casting a quick healing spell. The magic felt oddly wrong, as if it were clashing with her own magic; she felt a series of strange and unpleasant sensations as he healed her. She yawned the moment he was finished, as if she’d tapped into her own magic... she wondered, suddenly, if she had. She’d woven so many defensive charms into her wards that one of them might have been triggered without her ever being aware of it.

  “You need to get to the portal,” Sergeant Miles said. “You’re too important to lose.”

  Emily shook her head, then looked around. The gate had fallen. The cannons were gone. The infantry was fighting a desperate battle against orcs and overseers, trying to keep them from breaking out and slaughtering their way through the entire fort. The shield was failing... she glanced at the circle and shuddered. Four more sorcerers had collapsed, leaving only three powering the ritual. And they couldn’t hold it in place for long.

  She caught his eye. “Where’s Lady Barb?”

  “I don’t know,” Sergeant Miles shouted back. An orc broke though and charged at them. He disintegrated the brute with a single spell. “I don’t know!”

  Emily swore. There was no sign of Sir Roger. He’d been on the battlements next to her, hadn’t he? And Lady Barb... Crown Prince Dater was leading the troops trying to retake the gates, she saw. He was doing a good job, laying around him with more bravery than common sense. She swallowed hard, knowing it was only a matter of time before the troops were pushed back and slaughtered. The walls were heavily charmed, but there were limits. She could hear something creaking on the far side of the walls. Monsters?

  She reached out, gingerly, with her senses. The necromancer was coming closer, either to be in at the death or to try to capture the sorcerers before they drained themselves completely dry. He had to be running out of manpower - orc-power, her mind whispered - leaving him vulnerable to his fellows. He had to find a new source of power if he wanted to secure his position and save himself. Emily cursed under her breath. She had the nuke-spell, but if she used it now...

  “The battery,” she said. Lady Barb had given her a battery, and a valve, before all hell had broken loose. “Where’s the battery?”

  “What battery?” Sergeant Miles hurled another spell at a flying overseer. The creature exploded into a mist of vapor and blood. “Why?”

  Emily looked around, frantically. She’d been holding the battery when she’d been hit... she peered into the darkness, smiling in relief when she saw it on the ground. It hadn’t been damaged or it would have exploded, killing her and destroying a sizable chunk of the fort. She picked it up, despite the ache in her bones and hunted for the valve. It was broken at her feet.

  “We’re going to have to use it,” Emily said. She felt her legs buckle. Sergeant Miles put an arm around her shoulders. “If we can blow them away...”

  “You’re in no state to cast the spell,” Sergeant Miles said. He picked up a discarded wand and held it out. “I’ll do it. You stay here.”

  He turned to Penny. “Tell Cat to throw his orcs into the mix as soon as I cast the spell,” he said. “Emily, stay here.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Emily said. She might have been healed, but she was in no state for a fight. Staying alone wasn’t an option. Penny was better off without her. “Please.”

  Miles nodded curtly, then grabbed her arm and levitated them both up to the battlements. Emily felt her stomach heave - again - as she saw Lady Barb on the ground. Blood was leaking from a bruise on her head. Emily knelt beside her and cast a healing spell, hoping and praying they weren’t too late. Head injuries were nasty. Healers could handle anything that wasn’t immediately lethal, physically at least, but they couldn’t do anything for the mind. There was no way to repair mental injury, no way to save someone descending into madness... even suggesting they try would horrify everyone. And yet, Lady Barb would sooner die than lose her mind.

  She could lose everything she values in herself, Emily thought. Guilt stabbed at her soul. She hadn’t even seen Lady Barb get hit. When had it happened? The creature that had attacked her? Or another creature... she hoped she’d killed it. She might never wake up.

  “Watch her,” Sergeant Miles growled.

  He charmed the wand, then connected the wand to the battery. Emily stared, opening her mouth to tell him to stop before closing it again without saying a word. Sergeant Miles knew the risks. The wand wasn’t designed to channel so much power. It might explode - or worse. She wanted to tell him to let her do it, to let her take the risk, but she knew he’d refuse. He’d sooner die than step back...

  She looked into the distance. The orcs were massing again, advancing forward in a steady stream now the defenses had been damaged beyond repair. The shield overhead flickered and died, snapping out of existence as if it had never been. Emily heard the orcs roaring in delight, their overseers flying over their heads and diving towards the fort. There was hardly any opposition now, hardly any sorcerers left who could stop them. She raised her hand to her amulet, wondering if she could teleport both herself and Lady Barb back to the camp before it was too late. She didn’t want to abandon anyone, but... what else could she do?

  Sergeant Miles spoke a single word. The wand glowed with power. Emily covered her eyes, but it was useless as blinding white light flared in the darkness. The light seemed to burn through her fingers, through her very skin and soul. She froze, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights as the magic grew stronger. Her skin prickled...

  The ground shook, violently. Emily sensed a whirlwind of light and sound raging across the landscape. Her paralysis snapped. She ducked down, covering Lady Barb’s unconscious body as best as she could. The shaking continued - she heard something crash and realized, too late, it was part of the wall - as the light grew brighter, then snapped back into darkness. Emily blinked hard, hastily recasting the night vision spell. The land beyond the walls was a burning ruin. The handful of surviving orcs looked as if they’d been hit over the head with an axe. They weren’t even running for their lives.

  “He’s going.” Sergeant Miles knelt beside Emily, his face flushed with sweat. “He’s going, isn’t he?”

  Emily hastily reached out with her mind. The necromancer was retreating, as if he’d realized the battle was lost. Idiot. There might be more batteries - Emily wasn’t sure - but it didn’t matter. The walls were broken in a dozen places, the cannons were gone, the magicians were drained, the troops were scattered... he might have won, if he’d thrown the rest of his troops into the attack. Unless... did he even have many troops left? Emily wasn’t sure how many were dead, but...

  “Answer me!” Sergeant Miles sounded as if he was on the verge of losing what last shreds of control he had. “Is he running?”

  “He’s running,” Emily said. She cursed under her breath. Sergeant Miles had just channeled a lot of magic through his mind. He’d used his power and discipline to keep the wand from exploding... he’d risked madness as well as death. “Sergeant...”

  “Help me get her to the healers,” Sergeant Miles said. He picked up Lady Barb with surprising gentleness, then jumped into the darkness. “Hurry!”

  Emily hesitated, then floated down to land beside him. The sergeant was shaking feverishly. She’d never seen anything like it. She’d certainly never tried to channel so much power. Her mind raced, w
ondering just what the sergeant had done. Held the spells in place with his own mind? Or risked the power bleeding into his mind so he could use the battery to cast multiple spells? She’d thought it was impossible. The batteries were one-shot weapons. And yet, Sergeant Miles had made it work.

  She wanted to ask what spells he’d used, but she didn’t quite dare as they hurried towards the healers. Soldiers ran past them, new units running out of the portal to be hastily steered towards the walls and the ruined gates. Crown Prince Dater seemed to have assumed command, now that Sir Roger was... missing. Emily told herself he couldn’t be dead, although common sense suggested otherwise. He could have fallen from the walls and landed badly, or been snatched by one of the invaders or... she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. He might be dead or badly wounded.

  “Help her.” Sergeant Miles placed Lady Barb on a makeshift stretcher, then waved at the nearest healer. “Please.”

  Emily glanced at him. “You take care of her,” she said. The necromancer was still out there, somewhere. She could feel his presence, even if she couldn’t locate him. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  She tried not to look at Lady Barb as she walked away. Her thoughts ran in circles. Head injuries were dangerously unpredictable. Lady Barb might never wake up. Lady Barb might lose her magic, or her intelligence, or everything else she’d worked so hard to earn. And the sergeant... her heart twisted in pain. What if he’d damaged his mind? What if... she swallowed, hard. What if she had to stop him - or both of them - before it was too late?

  Penny ran up to her. “Cat’s orcs are advancing,” she said. “He asked me to find out what you did.”

  “I didn’t,” Emily said, quietly. “Come with me.”

  She told Penny, quickly, about Lady Barb’s injury as they walked back to the gates. Crown Prince Dater was standing next to Sir Roger... Emily’s heart skipped a beat. She’d hoped for the best, yet feared the worst. Sir Roger was leaning on a battered musket - one of his legs was a shattered and bleeding wreck - but he was alive. He was alive!

  “Lady Emily.” Sir Roger nodded his head. There was a hint of humor in his voice. “Please forgive me for not showing proper respect.”

  “You’re forgiven,” Emily said, a deadpan look on her face. He’d been badly injured and yet he was smiling? No one would blame him for passing command to someone else and hobbling back through the portal until the healers restored his leg. “What happened to you?”

  “One of the bastards hit me,” Sir Roger said. “I got him with my blade, but the wall crumbled beneath my feet.”

  “You mean you walked off the edge,” Crown Prince Dater put in, mischievously. “Lady Emily, please help me to convince Sir Roger that we have to drive them back now...”

  “No.” Emily shook her head. “The necromancer isn’t too far away.”

  “He’s too cowardly to come and get us,” Crown Prince Dater insisted. “We can go after him!”

  “Be glad of it,” Emily said. “Right now, if he attacks, we’re doomed.”

  She winced as she stared at the defenses. The newly-arrived soldiers were working hard to restore them, but they simply didn’t have time. There just weren’t enough hands - or weapons - to hold the walls, if the necromancer gathered his forces and launched another attack. And the magicians were drained beyond all hope of immediate recovery. Master Lucknow was nowhere to be seen. She hoped that meant he was already through the portal and recovering in peace.

  “He could turn on us at any moment,” Crown Prince Dater said. “We have to go after him.”

  “Yes, we do,” Emily agreed. “Me. Me alone.”

  Sir Roger’s eyes narrowed. “Are you mad?”

  “Possibly,” Emily said. “There’s some spare... devices... in the tents” - she wasn’t sure if that was true or not, but it would provide a decent cover story - “and I can use them. The necromancer is on his own. I’ve beaten others in worse places.”

  She looked past him as Cat walked through the broken gates. “I’ll be back before you know it,” she assured them. “But don’t stop working on the defenses.”

  Cat waved to her. “We did it!”

  “Not quite.” Emily walked over to him, casting a subtle privacy ward. “Cat, I need you to keep an eye on Lady Barb and Sergeant Miles. They’ve been through hell.”

  “The sergeant will be back to ordering us to drop and give him twenty before you know it,” Cat said. He sounded as if he were trying to reassure her. “Really.”

  “I’m serious,” Emily said. She explained what had happened - and what might have happened - as quickly as she could. “It might come to nothing. But please...”

  “For you.” Cat bowed. “And if he gives me push-ups, you can do them for me.”

  Emily had to smile, despite her fear and aching body. “Thanks,” she said. “And if...”

  She broke off. “Never mind,” she said. There was no point in trying to convince someone else to join them. By the time Jade - or Frieda or Caleb or Cirroc or someone - arrived, it would be over. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

  “Be careful,” Cat said. “And good luck.”

  Emily nodded. “I’ll search the tents, then set out,” she said. Time wasn’t on their side. She made a mental note to collect a bunch of potions before leaving. Drinking so many on an empty stomach would be dangerous, but so was heading out to challenge a necromancer. “If I can find a battery, this will be so much easier.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  EMILY SAW LIGHT GLIMMERING IN THE distance as she made her way out of the fort and into the Blighted Lands, gritting her teeth when she sensed tainted magic in the air. The forces Sergeant Miles had unleashed - she still wasn’t sure precisely what he’d done - had devastated the terrain, shattering the enemy army and burning anyone who hadn’t turned and fled the moment the magic started to surge. She picked her way through hundreds of dead bodies, some burnt so badly she couldn’t tell what they’d been before the magic hit them.

  Her heart beat frantically, warning her that she might have overdosed. She knew she should turn back, she knew she should find a tent and get some sleep before it was too late, but she had to keep going. The oath pounded in her mind, pressing against her will... reminding her, time and time again, that she couldn’t simply go home. It was all she could do to convince herself not to strike out immediately for the Castle at the End of the Land, to leave Cat and Lady Barb and Sergeant Miles behind. If she’d been closer to the castle, she doubted she could have stopped herself from leaving.

  She picked her way around the remains of a monster - she couldn’t tell what it had been before it had been caught in the firestorm - and peered into the darkness. Something was glimmering in the distance, something... her eyes narrowed as she sensed the necromancer holding court amongst the dead. She wondered, suddenly, if he could draw power from orcs and his overseers... it should be possible, she thought, but she didn’t know. The overseers had magic - she had the scars to prove it - but the orcs? Surely, if the necromancers could draw power from their slaves, they’d have overwhelmed the Allied Lands long ago.

  And there’d have been no way to stop them, she thought, numbly. They could have amassed enough magic to simply blast their way through the mountains.

  Emily took a breath. The stench of burning flesh hung around her like a living thing. She swallowed hard, resisting the urge to use magic to clear the air. The more magic she used, the greater the risk of being detected before she reached her target. Her fingers touched the amulet around her neck, testing the spell she’d carefully emplaced within the gem. She’d worked hard to ensure the spell triggered if things went really wrong, with or without her direct input. She was not going to be held in place by her oath, not again. The last time had been quite bad enough.

  A faint sound echoed across the blackened landscape as she walked towards the glow. The land became ashy dunes, rising and falling; she felt isolated, as if she were completely alone in the world. She touched the amule
t again, reminding herself she could be back at the ruined fort in an instant if she triggered the spell. And yet, she still felt alone. The world seemed to shift around her as she crested the dune and peered into the distance. The necromancer was standing within a hollow, surrounded by the remnants of his army. Emily shuddered. The tainted magic within the air was overwhelming.

  Her eyes tracked the creatures within the glow. The orcs - only a handful of orcs - were sitting on the ground, utterly still. Emily’s eyes narrowed. She’d never seen an orc - or anyone, really - stand so still. They’d always moved and twitched... were they being held in place by magic? Or... or what? The overseers were moving, one of them kneeling before the necromancer. Emily leaned forward, trying to see what they were doing. It was hard to see clearly, in the faint glow. Begging for mercy? Sharing power? Or something else? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  The necromancer shifted, his red eyes sweeping the hollow. Emily shuddered as his eyes flickered across her position. He was a walking skeleton, his form wrapped in blue fire that felt fundamentally wrong. It looked as sickly as the yellow magic his servants had used. She searched her memory for the name and shuddered, again. Gerombolan. The name probably meant something in a language she didn’t know. Or maybe the necromancer had just thrown the word together from a collection of random sounds. It was impossible to be sure. She wasn’t even sure why necromancers changed their names.

  It isn’t as if they can be used against them, Emily mused. They break the bonds between their past and future selves.

  Her heart sank as she saw the darkness shift, revealing a giant army of orcs - a whole new army of orcs - advancing to join their master. The necromancer hadn’t been beaten, not completely. He’d fallen back to wait for reinforcements. She cursed under her breath as she knelt down, scrabbling in her pocket for the chat parchment. Cat had to be warned. The defenders had to know there was another army heading towards them. And, with the defenses in tatters, they’d be unable to keep the necromancer from destroying the fort. They’d have to start evacuating now and hope they got clear before it was too late.