They rushed into the room, and Katie caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. Her shadows snapped out to stop a girl in a finely made dress from bashing Spot over the head with a potted plant.
“Release me, villain!” the girl screamed, still trying hit Spot with the potted plant. “I will not be fed to some dragon!” Spot turned, and his gaze flicked from Katie’s shadows to the potted plant she’d stopped mere inches from his head. He bared his teeth and growled. Knowing him, Spot was probably insulted at the thought someone believed they could hurt him with a potted plant. “Stay back, foul reptile!” the girl cried. “Stay back! I’m warning you! I have a potted plant, and I’m not afraid to use it!”
Katie hastily put herself between the outraged dragon and the clearly terrified, but determined to bluster, girl. Based on the descriptions and pictures they’d been given, this had to be the princess. She had long, dark brown hair with eyes somewhere between amber and brown. Her skin was tanned from a life lived on or around the ocean.
“Stop!” Katie shouted. “We’re here to rescue you, Princess Calista. We’re going to take you back to your father.”
“My father?” The princess blinked and tightened her hold on the potted plant – a cactus – not that she could do anything with Katie’s shadows restraining her. She could overpower ogres with her shadows. A little girl had no chance of breaking free unless she let her. “But… but you have a dragon! Dragons eat princesses. Everybody knows that!”
“Not this one. He’s friendly.” Katie said as Spot snarled at the princess. He didn’t look very friendly at the moment. “Spot, calm down.” A tremor ran through the ground, and she glanced back out the door. Her master must still be fighting, but if he was, why couldn’t she hear any loud noises? Maybe he’d devised a way to deal with the other mage’s magic. “We’re the ones who’ve been attacking the fortress. Now, come on. We need to get you out of here before they regroup.”
“But how can I trust you?”
Katie stared at her flatly. “Do you really think the bad guys would send a young girl and a young dragon to fake a rescue?”
The princess nodded slowly. “Ah… right. Sending an eight-year-old girl would be an unusual tactic for villains.”
Katie’s eye twitched. “I’m ten!”
“Oh.” The princess winced. “Uh, my apologies. You’re just… I mean…”
Spot snickered. Short? Rembrandt gave the dragon a vicious glare, and Katie scowled. Spot grinned back.
“I was going to say petite,” the princess said archly. Her gaze shifted to Rembrandt. “And you do realise that you’ve got a rat on your shoulder, don’t you?”
“He’s a ninja rat,” Katie replied. “And he has probably killed more people tonight than most soldiers will kill in their entire life.”
“I see.” Princess Calista nodded. “Well, it seems I have no choice. I’m putting my trust in you…?”
“Katie,” Katie replied. “And my rat is Rembrandt. The dragon is Spot.”
“Then it is a pleasure to meet you.” The princess made a face. “Although the circumstances of our meeting are less than ideal, I can only hope things will improve from here.”
* * *
Timmy was used to pain. It had become part of his life from an early age, and he’d never been able to escape it, not even after becoming a Grand Necromancer. However, this was one of the times he was grateful for his high pain tolerance. A normal person would have wavered in the face of his opponent’s magic. Timmy simply pressed on.
His ears rang, and his vision swam, but he knew better than to stop. Instead, he focused on putting one foot in front of the other as his opponent continued to retreat. The darkly clad mage had already been forced to reveal his secondary magic – he could fire bolts of destructive energy. However, the bolts were too slow to hit someone who was ready for them, which was why his primary magic was so important. After blasting people with sound, hitting them while they were disoriented and confused should have been straightforward.
Timmy was making life difficult. His makeshift walls and barriers had taken the edge off the constant barrage of sound, and the energy bolts detonated upon impact rather than passing through his defences. He flung some stone at the other mage, but the other man could use his sound defensively as well. The stone screeched to a halt and tumbled to the ground. Timmy’s lips curled. He had a plan.
Ignoring the blood trickling out of his ears – he’d have to splash some healing potion on them later – he took off his cloak and hurled it toward the other mage. At the same time, he charged forward and flung several sharp pieces of stone at his opponent. As he had expected, the mage focused on stopping the stones before taking aim at him with his sound magic again. It wasn’t a bad idea – Timmy was finally out in the open – but Timmy wasn’t done yet. He threw his shovel, forcing the other man to duck, as he closed the gap between them and reached up to catch his cloak. A smile crossed his lips as he wrapped the garment around his opponent’s head.
Once upon a time, Timmy had made the mistake of trying to sneak around with things in the pockets of his cloak. It hadn’t worked. Even a few stray coins clinking together could easily give him away, and his master had punished him whenever he’d been able to catch him. Timmy’s solution had been to sew runes and seals into his cloak to muffle any sounds it made. He’d also noticed that whenever the other mage used his sound magic, he opened his mouth. It was likely that he had to make the sounds his magic amplified. Well, he’d have a much harder time doing it now. With the cloak wrapped around his head, any sounds the other mage made would be completely muffled. With a growl, Timmy tightened the cloak around the mage’s head as he drove one knee up into his gut. The man folded, and Timmy repeated the attack. If he couldn’t breathe, then he couldn’t make any sounds either. As the man’s struggles weakened, he tried to summon one of his bolts of destructive energy. Timmy grunted and hoisted him up into the air before slamming him into the ground. He went limp, and Timmy gave him a precautionary kick to the head to make sure he was actually unconscious before he put his cloak back on and went to grab his shovel. The man was out like a light. Timmy’s lips twitched. Nobody ever expected a necromancer to close in for melee combat. It just wasn’t done – right up until it was.
* * *
“Did your master just throw that other mage?” the princess asked.
Katie winced. That throw must have hurt, not to mention the kick afterward. They’d exited the chamber just in time to see her master throw his cloak before covering his opponent’s head with it and beating him up. “He does that.” As her master splashed some healing potion onto his ears, she frowned. He must have burst his eardrums or something if he needed a potion.
“Are you okay?” Katie asked as he walked toward them.
He rubbed his ears and nodded. “That’s better. I can actually hear things now. I’m fine. The other guy – not so much.” He nodded at the princess. “Oh, and good evening, Your Highness. We’ll have you out of here shortly.”
“Hopefully,” Katie said. “I mean… we had to have beaten most of the guards by now, right?”
“Katie, what have I told you about tempting fate?” Her master looked around suspiciously. “Now, we’re probably going to have to fight off at least another hundred of them.”
“That’s just superstition, master –”
As if in answer to her master’s concerns, a hidden passageway opened up behind him. A lean, grizzled man in his fifties leapt at him with a dagger in either hand as more guards flooded into the room. Katie found herself being swept away from her master as Spot moved to put himself between her and the princess and the oncoming guards.
“Watch the princess,” her master shouted. “I’ll deal with Lord Tarrick.”
Katie’s eyes widened. The guy with the daggers was Lord Tarrick? This must be his final gambit then. He wouldn’t have exposed himself directly otherwise. She took a deep breath, and the shadows around her formed into a nest of w
rithing tendrils. Her master could take care of himself. She had to believe that. Right now, she needed to make sure they didn’t lose the princess.
* * *
According to his research, Lord Tarrick had once been an assassin of no small skill who had often worked for the Eternal Empire. Clearly, he hadn’t let himself get fat and lazy after becoming a crime lord. He was more than two decades older than Timmy, but he moved with the speed and ease of a man still in his prime. The daggers he wielded each glowed with magical power, and he could see the sheen of poison on them as well. A single touch, and Timmy was fairly sure he wouldn’t have to worry about renovating his castle anymore. Instead, he’d be worried about Katie somehow retrieving his body and giving him a decent burial. He would have liked to keep a closer eye on his apprentice – he’d bet this mission’s pay that the guards here were some of Lord Tarrick’s best – but the crime lord refused to give him the chance. Instead, he was a whirlwind of motion, his daggers coming within a hair’s breadth of Timmy’s throat, chest, and left leg in quick succession.
“I hope you’re not too mad,” Timmy drawled as he tugged his other shovel off his back and parried a strike. He lunged for what he thought was an opening only for Lord Tarrick to somehow twist out of the way and nearly gut him. Damn. The crime lord was good. “You know, about us blowing up and robbing your compound before attacking your secret fortress.”
Although his eyes gleamed dangerously, Lord Tarrick refused to be baited. Instead, he continued to press his assault with methodical precision. Honestly, if Timmy hadn’t been fighting for his life, he would have praised the older man for his skill. It was a pity Old Man wasn’t here. Duels to the death were more his style. Completely on the back foot and with Lord Tarrick not giving him any time to use his magic, Timmy had to rely on his wits and his shovels to ward off the storm of blows. Lord Tarrick wasn’t just good. He was brilliant.
It had been years since Timmy had faced someone this good with daggers, and his cloak already had several gashes in it despite the protective runes and seals sewn onto the cloth. He also had a feeling that his haircut was no longer as symmetrical as it had been only a few minutes ago. On the upside, he had managed to avoid getting hit, but he hadn’t been able to get a reaction from the crime lord either. Lord Tarrick was not someone he could goad into making a mistake. He was too calm and professional for that. Instead, his plan was to press his assault, knowing that a single mistake from Timmy would grant him victory. A blindingly fast sequence of strikes and feints forced Timmy to drop one of his shovels or lose his hand – and possibly his life – and he bit back a curse. Why couldn’t Lord Tarrick have been a former bureaucrat instead of a former assassin?
As the guards moved to recapture the princess, Spot let loose a tremendous roar that far outstripped his size. Instinctive terror had the guards flinching back, some ancient instinct warning them to flee despite Spot being so much smaller than an adult dragon. With another roar, Spot charged forward with Rembrandt on his heels. With the dragon spewing fire and biting and clawing anything he could reach, Rembrandt was free to fight with his usual murderous efficiency. He leapt from guard to guard, his sword and needles at the ready. Behind them, Katie remained close to the princess, but her shadows were in the thick of it. A spike here, a blade there, and a tendril over there – it was so very easy for Katie to attack with the guards focused on Spot and Rembrandt.
A slash came within a quarter of an inch of his leg, and Timmy scowled. He needed to concentrate. There was no time to use his earth magic. Lord Tarrick was smart enough to stay as close as possible. A swipe at his face had him jerking his head back before a cut aimed at his ribs threatened to end the fight. He retreated, and his shovel flicked out in a bid to drive the crime lord back even half a step.
The older man dodged the strike in a manner far too reminiscent of Timmy’s master for his liking, and he bit back a growl. How much longer could he keep this up? Timmy kept himself in great shape, but he could feel himself beginning to tire. The sound-based attacks from the mage he’d faced earlier must have sapped his strength more than he’d thought. Lord Tarrick had set a furious pace, and unlike Timmy, the crime lord hadn’t had to battle through wave after wave of guards. Timmy circled away, but the crime lord was right there to continue the assault. Perhaps he was imagining things, but he might have finally spotted something he could use. Lord Tarrick was just a fraction slower and more awkward to pull his left dagger back after he attacked. It looked as though his left wrist was a little stiffer than it should have been for a man so skilled with daggers. Was it the result of an old injury? Maybe. Or maybe Lord Tarrick simply hadn’t practiced quite enough to keep his left hand as flexible as it used to be. After all, being a crime lord was a full time job. Well, it was time to gamble. If things continued to go the way they had been going, Lord Tarrick would eventually wear him down. He needed to act now while he still had the speed to make it work.
With a grimace, Timmy lunged forward and jammed his shovel down in a short, powerful strike. Lord Tarrick was forced into an awkward block with his left dagger, and Timmy wrenched his weapon to the side – hard. Pain flashed across the crime lord’s face, and his grip on the weapon faltered. The dagger clattered to the floor, but Lord Tarrick was already in motion. He thrust his remaining dagger toward Timmy’s chest. There was no time to bring the head of his shovel around to block the attack, but Timmy was ready. He deflected the blow with the handle of his shovel and kicked the older man in the chest. Lord Tarrick twisted away to take the edge off the kick, but it was still enough to knock him back, which gave Timmy the time and distance he needed to use his earth magic. Shards of stone pelted the crime lord. Lord Tarrick reeled back, and Timmy sent one of the smaller shards at his head. Lord Tarrick slumped to the ground unconscious. Timmy grinned. Lord Tarrick was not going to be happy when he woke up, especially since he’d be waking up to an interrogation. As Timmy moved to grab the downed crime lord, some of the guards moved away from Katie and the princess to protect their employer. They never got close enough to help.
“Hello, bastards!” Avraniel crowed as she announced her arrival with a jet of white-hot flame that incinerated half a dozen guards. “I don’t suppose the treasury is nearby, is it?” Gerald scuttled along nervously behind her. He had swapped his frying pan for a shield of some sort, and from the head-shape dents in it, he’d put it to good use. The other guards gaped at the elf in disbelief, and she cackled. “Not going to answer? I guess I don’t need to keep you jerks alive then.”
The remaining guards were soon either dead or running for their lives. Avraniel waved Spot over. The dragon bounded into her outstretched arms and nuzzled her happily. She didn’t seem to mind that he was covered in ash and gore. “Are you okay?” she asked. “I hope the twerp and the idiot have been taking good care of you.”
Spot nodded and then turned to glare at the princess. They have… but the princess tried to hit me with a potted plant.
“Did she now?” Avraniel drawled. The princess’s eyes widened comically, and she hastily retreated behind Katie. “How interesting.”
“You can threaten her later,” Timmy said as Old Man and Amanda entered the antechamber with some of the rats. They had either been forced out of the hall or had decided that the narrower space of the corridors would make it more difficult for them to be overrun. “Right now, we need to leave, but fighting our way back to the front door is going to be a pain. Once they see we’ve got Lord Tarrick, they’ll fight extra hard because without him, they’re not getting paid.”
“Give him to me.” Amanda hefted the unconscious crime lord over her shoulder as Gerald handed Timmy some restraints to put on him. “I can use some of my illusions to conceal us. We should be able to get to the front door without too much difficulty unless –”
BOOM.
The wall of the antechamber exploded. Wood and stone flew through the air, and Avraniel stepped through the hole in the wall and calmly blew another hole in the wall of
the next room over.
“What are you dumb bastards waiting for?” she asked. “Screw the front door. I can do this all day. Once we get to the outer wall of the building, the idiot can use his earth magic to get us back to the ground. We’ll have to double back to grab the rest of the rats and that zombie clam thing, but it’ll be easier than trying to sneak or fight our way out.” She shrugged. “And who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky and hit the treasury along the way.”
Timmy and the others looked at each other and then walked through the hole in the wall. They weren’t about to turn down a free shortcut.
“Let’s go!”
In shorter order, Avraniel had managed to carve a path to the exterior of the building. They didn’t hit the treasury, but they did hit several reliquaries, and she made sure to have Gerald empty them before they continued. Timmy used his earth magic to get them down by creating a ramp from the rock and stone in the courtyard below. They made a brief detour to grab the rest of the rats, as well as Boris and the remaining zombie warriors and zombie marksmen. The zombie hydra-drake-basilisk had spent the entire time wreaking havoc, and Timmy decided to keep it around to cover their retreat. It might not be as fast as a zombie wyvern, but they needed to do as much damage as they could on their way out to minimise the odds of being followed.
“Did… did you do all of this yourselves?” Princess Calista asked as she eyed the devastation around them. The four corner towers were in flames, and large sections of the walls were either on fire on in ruins. The central building had a gaping hole in it courtesy of Avraniel, and the rest of the fortress was in shambles. Multiple buildings had been burnt, bombarded by boulders, melted by acid, or otherwise ruined during the raid. And that wasn’t even taking into account the bodies that littered the area. Timmy reached out with his magic to create some more zombies. They weren’t his best work, but they only needed to keep the remaining guards occupied for a little while longer.
Two Necromancers, a Dwarf Kingdom, and a Sky City Page 19