Two Necromancers, a Dwarf Kingdom, and a Sky City

by L. G. Estrella

  Despite the allure of the treasury, Avraniel took a few more moments to enjoy the fight. It had been a while since someone had gotten close enough to take a swing at her head, and she wondered if she should ask the idiot to spar against her more often, and maybe the people eater too. The idiot was supposed to be an expert in hand-to-hand combat, which was a bizarre speciality for a necromancer. Wasn’t that what zombies were for? Then again, he did go around hitting people with shovels. Not far away, the rats had gathered to watch the fight, and they were busy commenting amongst themselves. The rodents were not very big, but they had honed their abilities to a razor’s edge.

  Finally, Avraniel decided to go on the offensive. The fight had gone from fun to tiresome. She ducked under one punch and braced herself against the shockwave that followed. The flames around her rippled, but she kept her footing. As The Great Raging Fist tried to get into a defensive position – he must have expected the shockwave to throw her back again – she drove one fist into his gut. An average elf was much stronger than an average human, and she was way stronger than an average elf. He doubled over immediately, and she grabbed his hair and slammed her knee into his face. His nose broke, and he staggered back, woozy. She lunged forward and kicked him into the wall nearby with enough force to crack it.

  The burly man groaned and went limp, but he was still alive. Her lips twitched. She wasn’t doing half bad this time. She could take him into custody too. Oh, and those were some nice daggers at his side. Why hadn’t he used them? Maybe his magic would have destroyed them if he’d tried to channel it through them. Never mind. They were her daggers now. She unsheathed them and grinned. These were definitely of elven make although not by the elves she came from. Like most elf daggers they were better suited for slashing and cutting, as opposed to dwarf daggers, which tended to be used more for stabbing. Hmm… they weren’t as good as the daggers she had now, so maybe she could sell them. Good elf weapons always fetched a fine price since they were not only useful but also nice to look at, not that looks mattered much in a fight. She’d use a rusty, broken dagger if it meant winning a fight.

  At long last, they reached the treasury. It was tempting to simply blow the vault open, but she didn’t want to risk damaging the things inside. Instead, she let Bramante and the other rats get to work. Whistling a cheerful tune, Bramante hopped onto the door and began to scurry all over it as he tapped certain parts with his paws and squeaked instructions to the others. Less than five minutes later, he gave her a jaunty salute as the door toppled backward, courtesy of some precisely placed runes, seals, and explosives. She grinned at the rat and rubbed his back appreciatively. He was good at what he did, and what he did was perfect for a mission like this. She was definitely going to let him pick out something nice.

  Her eyes gleamed as she took in the contents of the vault. It was a shame the idiot and the twerp had borrowed Spot for their part of the mission because the dragon would have loved all of the shiny things in here. Before they left, she’d have to send Gerald here to empty it out. All of this gold and jewels were just rotting away. She’d be more than happy to liberate them, and the dragon-shaped gold statue over there would be a perfect addition to Spot’s growing hoard.

  She wasn’t a big fan of jewellery – it got in the way too much – but she knew how much a good piece could fetch. The jewellery here was all top notch. Some of it was magical too, so she’d have to ask the idiot to take a look at it. Magic rings and necklaces could look nice and have all sorts of handy abilities, but they also had an annoying tendency to be cursed.

  Bramante hopped onto her shoulder and squeaked.

  “What? You think there’s something else in this building?” The rat pulled out a map and pointed out several discrepancies. Her brows furrowed. He was right. It did look as though there was a concealed room hidden away, and a concealed room almost always had valuable things in it. “Why didn’t you mention that earlier? Let’s go take a look.” She paused and reached for the bag she had, the one that was bigger on the inside than the outside. “But before we go, let’s take a few things. If we can’t come back later, I don’t want us leaving empty handed. Pick out some stuff for you and the others. You’ve done good work today.”

  A short trip later – and after exploding one final idiot who’d called himself the Great Shining Star before trying to blind her with light and then stab her – they found the hidden room. Bramante and the others carefully blew a hole in the wall of a corridor to reveal a reliquary. Most of the stuff inside didn’t interest her. Sure, there was a magic sword in there, but all the magic did was keep it sharp. But it wasn’t like it was sharp enough to cut through steel like cheese or anything like that – that would have made it worth keeping. No, it was just a sword that stayed sharp no matter how badly it was treated.

  There was also a magic shield, but the rats were more interested in it than her. One of the rats was an expert in shields, and he said it was designed to withstand a single blow, no matter how powerful. If they could copy the effect onto smaller shields, they’d have access to a very handy piece of equipment. Once the rats got close to someone, it was usually all over. Their biggest problem was that they couldn’t shrug off damage the way the people eater could. The vampire was difficult to damage, and she barely even cared if she lost a limb since she could easily regenerate it. If the rats did manage to make smaller versions of the shield, she might have to ask them for some. She doubted she’d need them, but it never hurt to have a trick or two up her sleeve.

  What did interest her was the bow that Bramante found in a hidden compartment. Just the fact that it was hidden – after already being placed in a hidden room – made her wonder how much it was worth. Slowly, she picked it up. The bow was shaped like a recurve bow, but instead of being made of wood, metal, or a composite of different materials, it was fashioned out of a strange crystalline substance. Bramante put one paw on it and immediately recoiled with a startled cry.

  “Cold?” Avraniel touched the bow. “What are you talking about? It’s not cold. It’s warm.” The rat squeaked again, and Avraniel shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe it doesn’t like you, but I’m telling you it’s definitely warm to the touch.”

  She lifted the bow out of the case it was in. It wasn’t just warm to the touch anymore. It was almost hot. Moreover, it wasn’t brittle and rigid the way crystal should be. Bending it several times revealed a lot of flexibility. If she closed her eyes, she wouldn’t have been able to tell it apart from a normal bow. However, nobody who looked at it could ever mistake it for a normal bow. Within the ghostly crystal were helixes of runes and seals along with two long, spiralling tendrils of substances she couldn’t identify. She definitely needed to get the idiot to have a look at this, maybe even the people eater too, although she wasn’t about to let anyone else have it. Her current bow had served her very well for a long time, but she knew, on some strange, instinctive level, that this bow would be better – that it would be perfect for her. Her hands tightened on the weapon, and she was filled with the certainty it was immensely durable. She could probably whack one of the idiot’s armoured zombies over the head without leaving a single scratch on it.

  Unbidden, an old memory came to her, something from her long-ago childhood. It was a story about a bow that was supposed to look a lot like this one. What had her instructors called it again? Oh. Right. It was the Bow of the Sun, and if the stories she could remember were correct…

  She raised the bow. It didn’t have a bowstring, but she still moved as though she was about to loose an arrow. A shimmering string of pure magic appeared to link the two ends of the bow, and a moment later, a fiery arrow formed as well. Her magic shivered as the bow drew on her power, eager for more. The arrow brightened and focused until it was like she had a miniature sun at her beck and call. Her eyes widened. There was no way she could be this lucky. What were the odds that some crime lord had found something the elves had lost for millennia and that she would stumble across it? Then again… Spot h
ad found her a four-leaf clover the other day. They’d encased it in glass and put it on the wall, so maybe she was due for some good luck.

  Dispelling the arrow and putting the bow on her back, Avraniel turned to leave the reliquary. It was time to see what the others were up to. The quicker they got this over with, the quicker she could drag Gerald to the treasury to empty it. On the way out, Bramante pointed, and she stopped and stared. She had no idea why someone would keep a miniature magical mace. It was far too small for even a dwarf or a gnome to use, but it was the perfect size for one of the rats.

  “Sure.” She laughed. “Go ahead and grab it. It’s not like anyone else can use it without looking stupid.” She paused, and a lazy smirk crossed her lips. “Actually, have a quick look around. Maybe he’s got a collection of them hidden away.” The thought of the rats running around killing people with pilfered miniature magical weapons was too good to pass up. “If there are any extra, we can give them to the twerp. I’m sure she’d love that.”

  Bramante and the other rats shared a sceptical look. Oh well. It wasn’t like Katie could actually kill Avraniel for teasing her although she would definitely give it a try.

  * * *

  It said a lot about the strangeness of Amanda’s life that this was not the first time she’d ridden a giant three-headed dog. Despite being as big as a warhorse, Chomp still had some growing to do before he could match the other three-headed dog she’d ridden. Fire-Fang had been huge for a labyrinth hound, but Chomp still had a few years of growing left in him. He probably wouldn’t end up quite as large, but he’d probably add at least another foot of height.

  Few people recognised what Chomp was, mostly because his kind were rarely seen above ground or outside of the caverns, tunnels, mazes, and labyrinths they favoured. Instead, they spent almost all of their time deep beneath the earth in caverns that seldom saw the light of day. Long ago, the dwarves of the Broken Mountains had made great use of them – the ornery hounds got along well with the rustic and rowdy dwarves – but there were far less of them these days since most of the cities that had housed their kennels had fallen to hosts of goblins and other horrors. There weren’t many labyrinth hounds left, and there were even fewer people left who knew how to tame and raise them. Naturally, Avraniel had won over Chomp by threatening him with horrible, fiery death, but not everybody had that option. The dog now spent most of his free time patrolling the many corridors of Timmy’s castle or hanging out with Spot. Dragons and labyrinth hounds were usually bitter enemies, but the pair had become great friends. Spot even shared some of his food with the dog, which was incredible considering how possessive and hungry the young dragon could get.

  Chief amongst the abilities of a labyrinth hound – and one that Chomp rarely had to use at Timmy’s castle – was an instinctive talent for finding hidden places and concealed routes. It was how they navigated even the most complex and labyrinthine cave systems, and it would be very handy today. Capturing their target, a man named Reginald who was Lord Tarrick’s second-in-command, would not be easy. He was known not only for his great loyalty but also his great intelligence. Once Avraniel commenced her attack, he would undoubtedly begin preparing to evacuate, so time was of the essence.

  “Quickly.” Amanda patted Chomp on the side. “We cannot allow him to escape.” They had managed to procure an old tunic that Reginald had left behind at a brothel, so Chomp had the man’s scent. If he was here, then Chomp would find him.

  The monstrous dog howled and quickened his pace. Around his necks were collars Timmy had made. Each was covered in protective charms and various other runes and seals to ensure the dog’s wellbeing although labyrinth hounds were already quite durable and hardy. As the first explosions began to shake the night, they ran headlong through a group of guards. Chomp didn’t bother to slow down, nor did Amanda try to replace the illusion that had concealed them. There was no time for sneaking around. Instead, Chomp simply barrelled through them. Anyone foolish enough to stand in his way was either trampled or knocked aside. On his back, Amanda drew her sword and lashed out to either side. Three guards fell, and she grabbed hold of the blood pouring out of them. Crimson fluid spiked outward and dropped more of the guards. The remaining guards and a handful of mages retaliated, and she crafted the blood into a shield to ward off their attacks as they rushed past. Any thoughts the guard or mages had of pursuing her vanished as Avraniel advanced in their direction. They wanted to stop her, but they had bigger problems to worry about – like an elf that could melt stone without even trying.

  “Demon elf!” someone shouted, and Amanda laughed. Demon elf? That was a fitting title indeed for Avraniel.

  The dog continued his frantic pace until they reached a seemingly empty part of the compound between two buildings, but she trusted his instincts. She concentrated and then flared her magic. She smiled. Yes. There was an extremely subtle and skilfully woven illusion here, but now that she was aware of it, it should only take her a few moments to dispel it. She reached into her pocket for a trio of treats for Chomp, one for each of his heads. There was a door built into the ground. Clever.

  Reginald must have fled to an underground chamber for protection, and she would bet her descendants’ holdings that it was connected to an escape tunnel too. She raised her arms, and the blood she’d collected descended on the door like a giant hammer. To its credit, the door didn’t crumple immediately even though the blow would have cracked the wall of a castle. A network of seals appeared around it, but her second and third blow fell in quick succession, and her fourth attack finally smashed the door open.

  She and Chomp began their descent into the gloom. Had she been travelling with Old Man, Gerald, or Timmy, she would have been more worried about how they would manage in the dark. However, both vampires and labyrinth hounds had little to fear from the dark. They could both see perfectly well in total darkness, and there were few things in the dark more deadly than her. Chomp gave a low growl. His right head wanted to move more cautiously while the left wanted to press on as quickly as possible. His middle head advised a combination of speed and caution. Amanda bit back a chuckle. Dealing with the differing points of view that sometimes emerged was what made working with labyrinth hounds so interesting.

  As they reached a broad corridor, she sensed an ambush ahead. She leapt off Chomp’s back, and the pair charged forward side by side. She had wondered where the elites were. The guards Avraniel had drawn out were the rank and file – easy prey for the absurdly powerful elf. The guards here were better, much better.

  The guards immediately went for the vulnerable points on Chomp’s large body: under his chins, his belly, and his joints. At the last moment, the blood she’d gathered formed into crude armour around the dog, and the weapons clattered off. Small flashes of light filled the air. The guards were either using magically enhanced weapons or were using their own magic to bolster their weaponry. Given the uniformity of the flashes, she’d say it was the former, probably in the form of runes, seals, or enchantments. The dog snarled and rounded on his opponents. His left head unleashed a blast of foul air, a toxic gas that mimicked the effects of the deadly vapours sometimes found in mines. The elite guards stumbled back, and Chomp bounded forward, ripping, stomping, and tearing. His sheer bulk was enough to render even a glancing blow fatal, yet the elite guards refused to break. Instead, they darted behind pillars and other obstacles, so they could survive and continue to buy time for their master to escape.

  As for Amanda, the vampire was in her element. Her sword sang through the air as she slashed, stabbed, and sliced through her opponents while ripping and tearing them to pieces with her other hand. Armour was good – and magical armour was even better – but she was an ancient vampire. Her physical strength alone was incredible. With a growl she seized one guard by the neck, crushed his windpipe, and drank him dry before using the power and blood she’d gained to hurl spears of blood in all directions. Guards fell, and she conjured half a dozen illusions, layering them on
e on top of the other to conceal her true whereabouts as she retreated back into the shadows. This area had defences against magic, but she was there to anchor her illusions, and pain was not going to stop her or disrupt her concentration. It would take time – time they didn’t have – to dispel her magic. She picked her opponents off one by one, and the spheres of blood that orbited her grew larger with each kill. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Chomp smash through a pillar in a shower of stone before he bit one of the guards. He gave a vicious shake of his heads and tore the man to pieces.

  “Good boy.” Amanda dispatched the last of the guards and patted the canine on the head. The huge dog wagged his tail happily. Blood dripped from his jaws, and his eyes were alight with hunter’s glee. Like any good guard dog, Chomp was absolutely vicious toward his enemies yet unfailingly friendly toward his allies. If Spot had been around, the young dragon would have been only too happy to join in. Few things made dragons happier than killing their enemies, save perhaps killing their enemies alongside some of their friends.

  They continued onward, but the space ahead of them was clearly another trap. She wasn’t sure how much power the people waiting for them had – she could just barely sense two presences that were incredibly well concealed – so she didn’t want Chomp to simply charge in. A pair of attacks thundered toward them, and she pushed Chomp out of the way. Twin spears of raw force twisted the air and shattered the stone floor with ease, and she ordered Chomp to engage the elite guards that had appeared behind them while she dealt with the pair in front of them.

  Her eyes gleamed crimson in the dark. There were only two of them, but they were very well hidden. She only knew they were there because her vampiric senses were too keen for them to hide themselves completely. Even so, she couldn’t tell where they were, but the fact she’d spotted their attack gave away more information than she’d like. In battles between powerful mages, information was always important. It was critical to uncover the flaws of the opponent while concealing her own strengths and weaknesses. They already knew she could see in the dark or had some other means of sensing her surroundings with great clarity. Likewise, the fact that she hadn’t run headlong into their ambush told them she could, at least in part, sense their presences. That meant they would be more cautious than normal, which was a pity. A reckless, overconfident opponent was almost always easier to deal with than one who was being careful. She, however, did not know much about them.