“We should evacuate,” Vicky said. “And we have a lot to talk about.”
“Aye.” The king leaned on his axe. “Give us a few minutes to gather our forces here. We’ve seized boats from the docks to retreat, which shouldn’t be too hard with their fleet scattered and out of position. We can have people from the Sky City come and get us once we’re a safe distance from this island, but it would be a lot easier if you could simply give us a lift.”
“Certainly.”
Old Man allowed himself to relax as they gathered the rest of their forces. Vicky took a few moments to annihilate anything that looked even slightly threatening before surrounding them in a vast cube of light and flying toward the Sky City with the cube in tow.
The battle had been won.
Chapter Fifteen
Victory tasted good, Spot thought, especially when it came with a helping of giant tuna. The dwarves had been talking about throwing a huge feast to celebrate their escape from the cosmic fungi and their victory over the naval base, but they had decided to wait until they were safely in the Shimmering Isles’ territory. It was a good idea. When Spot went hunting, he often waited until his prey thought it was safe before pouncing. As his mother often told him – usually while they were fighting bandits – it was never a good idea to celebrate too early. Bandits who looked like they would have plenty of valuable stuff to take sometimes had nothing. It wouldn’t be good to get ambushed because they weren’t paying attention, not after they’d fought so hard. In the meantime, he’d decided to go fishing. They were moving over the ocean, and the rats knew some excellent recipes for tuna although he’d decided to have some raw too.
One of the ninja rats squeaked at him happily, and Spot gave the rodent an affectionate and gentle nudge with his head before he chirped an invitation to Chomp. The rats had fought well, and all of them carried injuries of some kind. They were cunning and brave, but they were also very small. His healing fire and some potions had been enough to fix most of their injuries since the rats were, for the most part, easy to heal due to their small size. He had been especially concerned – and enraged – when he’d seen Bramante. Seeing the rat missing an arm and a leg had filled him with fury. He had wanted to find whoever was responsible and tear him limb from limb before eating him alive. However, King Barin had assured him that the Lord of Magic who’d done it was dead.
The glowing woman – Timmy called her Vicky – had been able to fully heal Bramante, even giving him back his arm and his leg, and he had promised to catch her a big, juicy tuna to pay her back. He had also asked if she could teach him how she’d done it since she had apparently used her astral magic to do it. Spot was part astral dragon. He should be able to learn how, and he wanted to be able to heal all of his friends even those who got hurt as badly as Bramante.
Chomp padded over to enjoy some tuna too. Being a good dragon, Spot had kindly acquired plenty of tuna for all of them to enjoy. He’d been a bit worried about Chomp. He was tough for a dog, but he wasn’t a dragon. He’d also been fighting on the ground, and Spot hadn’t been able to watch over him since he’d been fighting in the sky. Luckily, his friend was okay. The dwarves had taken good care of him, and he’d actually done most of his fighting in the city where there were plenty of zombies and golems to help out. They’d have to get him more collars. The ones the idiot had made for Chomp were covered in runes, seals, and other protective charms, but almost all of those had been used up during the battle. That was okay. They could always get the idiot to make new collars. They couldn’t just get a new Chomp.
Spot sighed unhappily. Not all of the dwarves had been okay. Some of them had died – too many. He hadn’t thought a lot of the dwarves at first. They were only about as tall as the twerp. But they had proven to be good fighters, and they had been very brave. Not one of them had run away during the fighting, no matter how badly outnumbered they were or how injured they had been. The ones who had died had sometimes died laughing in the faces of their enemies, which Spot could appreciate. The dwarves did not fear death. They simply wished to die well, a sentiment any dragon could agree with. He’d even seen one dwarf drag himself along his opponent’s spear, so he could hit him with his axe. That dwarf had killed another four imperial soldiers before finally falling, and he had died with a savage smile on his lips. He’d been old too, even for a dwarf, but there had been no fear his eyes, only satisfaction at having fought well.
They were going to give the fallen a huge funeral pyre later. Some would have their ashes placed in crypts inside the mountains while others would have their ashes scattered over the mountains. It all depended on what those dwarves had wanted. His mother would be helping to light the pyre since she was a star maiden or something. He didn’t know what that meant, but the dwarves seemed to think it was very important. Some of them had even bowed to her after they’d come back to the Sky City, and more than a few of them had asked her to pray for the souls of the dwarves who’d fallen.
As he munched on his tuna – it was really good, so he might have to get some more and possibly some whale too if he could find one – he continued to think about his mother. She’d used so much magic that she’d transformed for a while. The fire he’d always been able to sense inside her had grown even greater, and she’d been able to fly, which had been fun. He’d never flown with her before. Eventually, though, she’d changed back. She had been naked too since she had burned her clothes during her transformation. He’d carried her back to the Sky City, and she’d grumbled about it the whole time and made him promise not to tell the twerp or the people eater. The idiot had warned her not to try transforming again until they were ready since there was a good chance she’d set everything on fire. Spot chortled. His mother was even more like a dragon than he’d thought. All she was missing now were the wings and the teeth. Oh, she didn’t have scales either, but the crystal she’d transformed into had been just as tough as dragon scales, maybe tougher. Hopefully, she could learn how to transform whenever she wanted. It would be nice to go flying with her again, and she seemed really happy setting all of their enemies on fire.
But even if not everything had gone the way they wanted, Spot was happy they’d won. Losing never felt good, and losing such an important battle would have felt even worse, especially since the imperials didn’t seem very nice. They’d organised the kidnapping of the princess, and they’d attacked the dwarves right after they’d escaped the cosmic fungi. He munched on his tuna. At least the imperials tasted okay – better than goblins – and he’d also gotten to eat some wyvern, drake, and griffin too. His eyes blaze white for a moment, and the whole world shifted in appearance. He was still trying to get used to his new powers, but it did make it a lot easier to find people since he could see through walls and stuff. The glowing woman had promised to help teach him, and she seemed to know a lot about it. She felt kind of like the strange place they’d gone too, but she was much nicer than the fungi. She’d even given him a pack of cookies.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself.”
Spot looked up from his tuna and smiled. It was the idiot. He looked a little tired from all of the fighting he’d done, and he had plenty of bruises and scrapes. However, none of his injuries were too serious, and he’d told Spot to focus on helping the others who were more badly hurt. Spot was glad the idiot was okay. He liked him, and he was very good at brushing his teeth. Also, the twerp would be sad if he died, and Spot liked the twerp. Do you want some?
“I’ll pass.”
Spot stared at the idiot suspiciously. Who would pass on giant tuna? Oh well, it was his loss. That just meant more for him. I’m hungry.
“Well, you have been very busy today. We all have.”
Spot nodded. Stronger. He flexed his wings and allowed some measure of his power to flare to life. The flames that erupted over his body were a combination of radiant white and ominous black. It had taken him several tries to summon both at the same time, but he thought it looked better. The rats said it would hel
p him look more menacing until he got big enough to be menacing all on his own.
“That makes sense.” The idiot studied him closely as Spot let the flames fade away. Chomp nudged him with his right head, and Spot trilled an apology. He’d almost set the dog’s tuna on fire. “They say that dragons get stronger the more they fight, and you’ve been fighting since you hatched.
Spot drew himself up and stretched out his wings. It’s fun.
“I’m not sure everyone would agree, but you are a dragon. Fighting is in your blood.” The idiot sat down on the bench that was beside them with a groan. “Could I borrow your tail for a while?”
Spot looked at his tail. It wasn’t as stubby as it had been, but it still had plenty of growing to do before it would make a good weapon. It would be nice to have a longer tail. He’d heard stories about older dragons that could use their tails as long, deadly whips. Sure.
The idiot got one of his shovels and began to draw it back and forth across the scales on Spot’s tail to hone its edge. It was a bit ticklish, but Spot went back to eating his tuna as one of the rats hopped over with a list of what they’d been able to grab. There hadn’t been time to raid the naval base’s treasuries properly, but the rats and some of the dwarves had been able to break into a few of them. What they’d been able to grab was impressive, and Spot was looking forward to eating some of the metal. It had been ages since he’d eaten some really nice metal, and imperial metal had a slightly different taste to it. It was something Spot had noticed. Depending on where metal came from, it usually tasted slightly different. Some places had tastier metal than others.
“It’s been a while since I’ve had to sharpen this shovel,” the idiot muttered. “But those cosmic fungi were tough. I’ll have to examine some of the specimens we have more closely. It would be great if I could add their ability to alter time to some of my zombies. What about your claws, Spot? Do you ever need to sharpen them?”
Spot grinned and lifted his claws. They sharpen themselves. It was true. Dragons healed extremely quickly, and their claws were the same. No matter how much he used them, within a day or two – often in a matter of hours or less – they were just as sharp as they had ever been. Most of the time, they didn’t even need to get sharper again. That only ever happened if he used them on something strong enough to not get ripped to bits right away, and there weren’t many things like that around.
“Where is your mother?” the idiot asked. It hadn’t taken him long to fix his shovel. It must be a good shovel. Spot slithered up to put his head on his lap. The idiot might not be as cuddly as the twerp, but he wasn’t totally hopeless. He also knew how to give wonderful belly rubs, and it wasn’t long before Chomp padded over, eager for a scratch behind his ears as well. Spot snickered. It must be tough for Chomp. He had three pairs of ears that needed scratching instead of the usual one.
She’s sleeping. Spot shifted his vision again. He could see the lights of the people in the Sky City – the glowing woman said they were people’s souls – and his mother’s light was unmistakable. She was in one of the rooms sleeping, and her light was so much brighter than the lights of the dwarves. It was like looking at the sun. He frowned as he noticed something strange. The people eater’s light was different. It was all funny looking and kind of dark. Was it because she ate people? But Spot had eaten people, and his light didn’t look like that. Oh. Right. She was a vampire. That was probably it although he could always ask her later. Why do you want to know?
“I was just wondering, and if she’s sleeping, it’s probably better we don’t wake her up. I don’t think she’d be happy if we interrupted her nap.”
Spot chortled and rolled over, so the idiot could scratch his belly more easily. His mother would not be happy if they woke her up now. She wouldn’t mind if it was for a good reason – like Spot wanting a cuddle or there being some bandits to rob – but she didn’t like people disturbing her naps for nothing. He might join her later. Dragons were good at taking naps although the big, flat rock in the courtyard nearby was also tempting since it was right in the sun. Then again, his mother was still radiating some of the magic she’d used before. It was like being in the sun, only better, and his mother was cuddlier than a rock too.
“I’ve got to run along now, Spot.” The idiot got up and stretched. “Have fun and let me know if you notice anything strange. I don’t think we’re going to run into more trouble, but you never know.”
Spot nodded and looked over to where the rats had found a nice place to play cards. He ambled over. He wasn’t very good at cards yet, but he was still young. He could learn. Plus, whoever won usually got peanuts. He’d never had peanuts with tuna before. Maybe it would taste good. Chomp watched him go and settled in a nice, shady spot to nap. Cards were hard enough for Spot to play with his claws, but Chomp had no hope of handling them.
* * *
Katie was on her way to the room she’d been given to get some rest when she hard a commotion coming from nearby. Her eyes narrowed. It was coming from her master’s room. A bit curious – and perhaps a little worried too – she knocked on the door. On her shoulder, Rembrandt squeaked something about her not needing to worry since her master was as hard to kill as a rat. Coming from anyone else, it would have sounded like an insult. From a ninja rat, however, it was a fine compliment.
“Shirt off now!” someone barked.
Katie raised one eyebrow. What an odd thing to say. “Master, are you okay in there?”
“I’m fine. Come in.”
She opened the door. Her master had his shirt off, and his body sported several large bruises, as well as a host of smaller cuts and scrapes. He must have gotten those fighting the goblins or the cosmic fungi although their time on Beaky had been quite eventful. It was hard to be sure since he couldn’t simply use shadows to absorb damage the way she could. “Master?” he hadn’t shown any signs of being in pain, so it was startling to realise he’d taken that much damage. None of the wounds was especially bad, but there were a lot of them. It couldn’t have been pleasant. On her shoulder, Rembrandt gave an approving squeak. A warrior did not show weakness in battle, lest the enemy see it and take heart.
Councillor Winter turned away from her master. “Ah, hello, Katie.” She huffed. “Your master hasn’t bothered to get healed yet.” She poked one of the bruises, and he winced before scowling at her. The councillor scowled back, utterly unimpressed. “He’s being quite foolish since we have more than enough potions and healers to go around. I’d heal him myself, but he actually dodged the first few healing beams I sent his way.”
“Wait… you can shoot healing beams at people?” Katie asked.
The councillor nodded. “Yes, although it can be a little troublesome to use on the battlefield since they look exactly like the beams I use to kill people.”
“I can see how that might be an issue.” Katie had to admit that if the councillor shot a beam at her, then the first thing she’d do was look for cover. To her immense amusement, her master was practically pouting as the councillor continued to scold him. She’d definitely be teasing him about this later. “Why haven’t you gotten healed yet, master? It’s not like we can’t spare the resources.”
He waved away their concerns. “These are nothing. I’ve gotten worse in tavern brawls. There are plenty of others who still need help more than me. Besides, little things like this can be good reminders.”
“Of what?” the councillor asked flatly.
“Of learning how to dodge better.” He straightened, and Katie watched in fascination as the councillor’s gaze followed the play of his muscles. As a student of anatomy – all good necromancers were – Katie could tell that he was in great shape. Waving a shovel around and going on adventures all the time did wonders for his fitness. As someone who often fought at close range, it was also necessary. Magic was all well and good, but there were still times when whacking people with big, heavy pieces of metal was necessary. Still, seeing the councillor’s obvious interest in his
physique forced her to bite back a giggle. Ever since Amanda had mentioned it to her, she’d realised that perhaps the councillor was interested in being more than just friends with her master.
And although the thought of her master being more than just friends with anyone was extremely icky, he wasn’t a bad person. She could kind of understand why women would be interested in him. He had his own castle with lots of zombies and plenty of treasure. Admittedly, most women would see a castle full of zombies built atop lightless chasms of doom as a downside, but the councillor seemed like she could appreciate a good zombie and some friendly eldritch horrors. The councillor must have noticed Katie watching her because her gaze snapped back to her master’s face.
“What?” her master asked. A glance at his boots showed that there was a small knife hidden in one of them. Of course, there was. Her master liked to be prepared, and the old knife in the boot trick had saved many a warrior’s life over the years.
“I was just thinking.” Katie pointed to a scar on his chest. It was disturbingly close to his heart, and there was a matching scar on his back too. It was like something had gone right through him. “What is that, master?”
“Yes,” the councillor drawled as she leaned in to examine the old wound. “What is that? I don’t remember you having a scar there.”
“And when was the last time you saw me without a shirt? That must have been back in our academy days when James and I fell into a river while we were arguing and you had to fish both of us out.” He stretched, and the councillor’s eyes once again followed every movement. Katie would have to tell Amanda about this later, and quite a few of the maids liked to gossip too. Maybe she could trade it for other information. After all, as her master was so fond of saying, information was sometimes the best currency. “I had a run in with one of my master’s many, many, many enemies. I couldn’t beat him in a straight up fight, so I let him stab me.”
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