Fall of the Arch Lich (D'Vaire, Book 6)

by Jessamyn Kingley

  Evergreen laid a hand on Chander’s arm. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I’ll be fine,” Chander lied and gave Evergreen a pat. “Go on now before the elders get here.”

  “We’ll talk soon, okay?”

  “Of course we will,” Chander replied. Dudley, Evergreen’s sentinel, shimmered out first and was quickly followed by a frowning Evergreen.

  “What now?” Baxter asked.

  “I need a fucking liquor store,” Chander retorted. Baxter gave him a nod. His sentinels walked out of the Order of Necromancia Headquarters with Chander on their heels. He turned back before they left it behind and wondered if he would ever be in that office space again. Chander sincerely hoped not. The elders had what they wanted, and the only thing Chander could do now was have faith the necromancers would not suffer because of it.

  The trio wandered down to the parking garage and Baxter took the wheel as Chander climbed into the back of the car. Chander waited for him to start the vehicle, but he had the steering wheel gripped in his hands and was staring at Benton in the passenger seat. The pair were obviously using their mindlink to speak telepathically.

  “It’s okay,” Chander said into the silence.

  “No, it’s not fucking okay,” Baxter argued.

  “I can’t believe you resigned,” Benton added.

  “They were going to vote me out,” Chander insisted. “I preferred to leave on my own terms.”

  “They had no right to file that petition,” Baxter replied. “And now they want to have a fucking criminal investigation? That’s seriously fucked up.”

  “The Council disagrees.”

  “Fuck them. They didn’t intervene to help the sentinels, and now they’re going to put their former leader through some fucking sick charade,” Baxter said.

  “It’s not a charade. It could very well be my death should they find me guilty, and I did knowingly separate Drystan and Conley.”

  “Without you, they would have been two bodies burned in a funeral pyre in a dragon court full of traitors,” Benton argued. “They wouldn’t be alive and enjoying a second chance together.”

  Chander dropped his head back against the seat. “I stole two bodies from the dragons.”

  “He’s going to ask to testify against himself,” Baxter told Benton.

  “We’ll go join the Consilium Veneficus before we allow anyone to hurt our necromancer,” Benton replied. Chander stared out the window as Baxter finally started the car and pulled out. All he wanted was a giant bottle of vodka so he could drown away his pain. After that, he had no clue. Being the Arch Lich was all he’d ever known. Now he had no title, no job, and no mate. All of those equated to showing the world exactly what kind of a worthless person he truly was. Poor decisions and being unworthy of love were all things he was responsible for. The truth was, he deserved all that was coming to him, though he’d never dreamed it could hurt so much. Chander could have sworn being betrayed by Alaric had scraped out what was left of his feelings. Apparently, he’d been wrong. That was certainly nothing new, and Chander was damn sick of it.

  Chapter 7

  Alaric watched his mate walk out of the vestibule owned by the Order of Necromancia and his heart, so battered and tortured, somehow managed to break a bit more for Chander. He knew what his title meant to him and how much he wished to help necromancers and the Council. With stunned disbelief, he’d witnessed Chander obliterating his crown and resigning his role as leader. There was a frenzied tension in the air, and Alaric knew Chander had sensed it. It was very likely this Council would have voted him out.

  In a similiar position, Alaric would have done the same thing. Those elders had undermined him from the minute they’d found him on Elder Hubert’s doorstep. They were despicable people, and Alaric could hardly believe they had succeeded in pushing Chander out of a job. The assembly hall was full of voices, but Alaric wasn’t listening to any of them. They were arguing over whether the Arch Lich could quit. Of course he could—hadn’t he just done so right in front of them?

  A red light appeared on Alaric’s desk. The Emperor was signaling to the room he wanted silence. When the Council leaders obeyed his edict, the dragon leader rose to his feet and maneuvered his microphone so he could still be heard.

  “For over two hundred years, I have served as your Council leader. Together we have shared many issues which we have addressed with fairness and for the benefit of all the members of this Council. We have worked diligently to treat everyone with kindness and sought out a brighter future. Each morning I wake up proud my dragons are better than they were yesterday because of the Council and specifically due to the leaders in this room.

  “I cannot say I will have that same pride when I open my eyes tomorrow. This Council stands for a great deal—the most important being that we respect all. We do not look down our noses because someone is different. We do not defy Fate. We do not treat a man who single-handedly built this Council into what it is today with contempt and disregard. In the thousand years I have drawn breath, the only other day I have felt such shame is when I discovered my own people had murdered my predecessors.

  “I did not think anything could ever equate with that disgrace, but I have been proven wrong. If you think you’ve served this Council well today by forcing the Arch Lich to resign his role as leader of the Order of Necromancia, you need to ask yourself how you would feel had you been in his shoes today. Would you act with such grace if your peers were brandishing ideas about the rightfulness of your role and possible criminal investigations? I know I would not.

  “I stand before you today in complete disbelief I am part of any group capable of what went on this morning. Like you, I must serve the race I was chosen to lead. The dragons are noble and dignified. I cannot guarantee they will allow their good name to be associated with a Council that displayed such indecency. I am suspending the remainder of this morning’s session and will be gathering my dragon kings. It will be up to them if I am to continue as this Council’s leader. Enjoy the rest of your day,” Emperor Chrysander said as he snapped off his light and marched out of his large vestibule.

  The room was quiet as the other leaders walked out. It was ironic; it had taken two millennia for the Sentinel Brotherhood to join the Council of Sorcery and Shifters, and now it seemed to be on the verge of imploding. It was no surprise to Alaric the elder council would be at the root of the problem. They were concerned with only themselves and their petition was a perfect example.

  When he’d arrived in his vestibule, Alaric had assumed his biggest problem was how to deal with Chander. Did he sign the separation papers or not? Now, he had to worry—thanks to fucking Elder Sigimund—that Chander could be sentenced to death; for a decision he’d made with the help of three others when he was an inexperienced teenager, who thought he was doing what was best for the Council. He wished he could call Chander and offer some words of comfort, but he knew despite the horror of the Council session, he wouldn’t want to hear from him.

  With a sigh of regret, Alaric flipped off his own light and walked into the empty alcove. Other races used this as a work space or a place to lounge. Since this was the first time Alaric had even come to a Council session and he’d come without a staff, the room was nothing more than four bare white walls. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to turn the ringer back on when he discovered he had a message. Hoping it was Chander, he hit the button for voicemail.

  Not Chander but Evergreen, he discovered. After punching the necromancer/druid hybrid’s number into his phone, Alaric was glad when he picked up after the first ring.

  “Evergreen, what’s wrong?” he asked Chander’s personal assistant.

  “Chand said he’s no longer the Arch Lich,” Evergreen replied, his voice sounding strange. Alaric didn’t know if it was because he’d been crying or if he was in stunned disbelief.

  “The elder council petitioned to have him removed,” Alaric explained. “He decided to resign instead of allowing the Council to
vote on the matter.”

  “Those fuckers.”

  “It could get uglier. The Council wants to investigate him for separating Drystan and Conley,” Alaric added.

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I wish I was. Are you still at the office?”

  “No, Chand told me to leave. He said I should tell you I need a job, but I don’t really feel right expecting you to do anything about it. I know you guys are all kinds of messed up right now.”

  “Don’t you worry about that. I’m happy to help you. The Sentinel Brotherhood doesn’t have an office manager or any staff at all in our headquarters. You and Dudley could work for us. We might not have a bunch to do at the start, but it will get busier.”

  “Hang on a sec—let me talk to my sentinel about it,” Evergreen responded. Alaric agreed and then heard the hybrid murmuring to Dudley. They didn’t keep Alaric in suspense for long. “We’d love to work for the sentinels. Chand said he can pay my salary if you guys don’t have the money to do that.”

  “We have plenty of funds. We’ll cover your salaries,” Alaric promised. “If you could meet me tomorrow morning at our office, I can facilitate your card being reprogrammed to allow you access to the door and you guys can get started. If you wanted a few days off, that’s okay too.”

  “No, we’d like to get started right away. Thanks so much, Alaric.”

  “It’s the least I can do.”

  “It’s really not, you’re awesome.”

  Alaric and Evergreen exchanged plans over what time to meet and then said their good-byes. Before he could put the phone back into his pocket, it rang.

  When he answered it, he was met with the voice of Skeleton Lord Gavrael D’Vaire. “Alaric, the news stations are reporting the Arch Lich has resigned.”

  “I wish I could tell you they’re lying, but I’m afraid that’s the case,” Alaric replied. “But he was, for all intents and purposes, forced into that decision.”

  “We will never get Dra’Kaedan calmed down,” Gavrael commented.

  “I wish he’d been here. He could have ripped those elders a new asshole.”

  “That is the gist of his anger, but he never attends sessions on Mondays,” Gavrael said.

  “Which might have something to do with the elders choosing today to start their shit.”

  “I do not wish to upset you, but Dra’Kaedan wishes to know if you have spoken with Chander.”

  “Tell Dra’Kaedan I don’t think he’d want to hear from me, and he should call Chand. He could use his friends right now, I’m sure.”

  “I will. Is there anything Geddy or I can do to help?”

  “Not right now but I appreciate it. I’ll see you both this afternoon for our daily meeting.”

  “Please call if you need us earlier.”

  “I will. Thanks, Gavrael.”

  One more phone call finished, Alaric rolled his eyes when it rang again. This time it was an angry Reverent Knight on the other line.

  “I don’t suppose you’ve talked to Chand?” Drystan asked.

  “No, have you?”

  “I think he’s turned the damn thing off, and I can’t get his sentinels to answer either,” Drystan retorted. “We’re going to head over to his condo after work if we can’t get in touch with him.”

  “That’s a good idea. I have a feeling he is going to try to avoid people for a while, and I can’t say as I blame him.”

  “That was some seriously fucked up shit this morning.”

  “Your Council hasn’t done a great deal to impress me since I arrived here, but today was worse behavior than I could have imagined. I might have personal issues with Chand, but to unceremoniously call him unfit is beyond the pale.”

  “It was like a mob mentality. Once one person agreed with that asshole Sigimund, the rest started swarming. I’ve never seen Chrys so pissed off. The Council is seriously fucked if the dragons decide to part ways.”

  “Do you think that’s a realistic possibility?”

  “I can’t say,” Drystan said. “But the shifters all joined because of the dragons. There’s always been this ‘us versus them’ mentality with magickind and shifters. The Council will start bleeding shifter communities. And let’s face it, there are a great many magickind populations with poor leadership. If the dragons bail, I’ll have to decide if the Order of the Fallen Knights is better off following them.”

  “What will happen with your resurrections now that the Arch Lich is no longer Chand?”

  “I don’t give a fuck who the Arch Lich is,” Drystan snapped. “Chand created my race and he will continue to be the only necromancer we allow to resurrect our brethren. If the Council tries to intervene there, we will walk. I don’t trust those elders, and I can’t even imagine what a mess we’d have on our hands if they were involved in creating new fallen knights.”

  “It’s a scary prospect. They might be the first of the resurrected people who aren’t incorruptible as I know our races to be.”

  “Yeah, can you imagine? We’d lose all ability to neutrally enforce Council laws.”

  “I prefer not to.”

  “That makes three of us,” Drystan responded.

  “How’s Conley handling this?” Alaric asked.

  “He’s foaming at the mouth. I have no idea how to even begin to calm him down.”

  “Chand is lucky to have friends with such faith in him. I wish he had more of them—then we wouldn’t be having this discussion,” Alaric said.

  “I know shit is awful between you, but he could probably use you right now.”

  “Drystan, it’s Chand who doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.”

  “It might not hurt to call and leave him a message for whenever the little shit turns his phone back on.”

  “He knows where to find me if he so chooses. I won’t add to his misery by making him deal with the disaster of our relationship right now.”

  “I understand. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty or anything. I know what went down was bad, and you have every right to want to keep your distance.”

  “I appreciate that, and I wish it was different but the fact is, we aren’t together. That’s not likely to change anytime soon, if ever.”

  “If you need a friend, you know you can call me or Con at anytime, right?”

  “I do now, thank you.”

  “No thanks necessary. I’ll let you get back to work. Do you want me to let you know if I track down Chand?”

  “If you could leave me a message, that would be great,” Alaric responded. “I’m heading back to the compound.” They said their good-byes and Alaric teleported to D’Vaire. The first thing he saw was the Grand Warlock throwing fireballs in the backyard. He spoke briefly with the D’Vaire sentinels who he’d see later and handed over his phone before transporting home. Alaric wished he and Chander were in a better place so he could be that shoulder he needed to lean on, but it was not to be. He was grateful he could help Evergreen and Dudley. That would have to be enough.

  Chapter 8

  Chander was taking a swig from his giant bottle of vodka when a strange noise boomed through the condo.

  “What the fuck was that?” Baxter asked. They were all lounging in Chander’s room since there wasn’t any furniture in the living area.

  “I think it’s the doorbell. It just sounds creepy from this room.” Benton climbed off Chander’s bed. He walked out to check and Chander took a drink. He was drunk enough that he couldn’t really care less about the world around him. Everything was splendidly muddled.

  Drystan walked into the room with Conley at his side. “Hey.”

  “Yo,” Chander replied.

  “Are you drunk?” Conley asked as Benton hopped back onto the mattress next to his mate.

  “Pretty much. You can pile up on the bed there with the sentinels or crash on the floor with me if you’re staying.”

  Drystan chose to pull Conley down to the floor, but they used the mattress as support for their backs. “I
suppose if there was ever a day to get stinking drunk, today is that day.”

  “I had a bad morning,” Chander retorted.

  “I know.”

  “Thanks for coming over,” Baxter said. “Do you want to order some food? Chand made us eat pizza earlier, but we can order anything you want.”

  The foursome decided to get more pizza which meant they were all feeling sorry for Chander. Most of the people in his inner circle hated the stuff since it was his favorite, and he’d eaten it enough times with all of them to make them sick of it. Since they were being nice enough to get more, Chander decided he would soak up some of his vodka with food. After all, he had another bottle if he sobered up too much.

  “So, you just been sitting around drinking today instead of answering your phone?” Drystan asked after they finished their meal negotiations.

  “I didn’t really want to talk to anyone.”

  “If that’s a dig at us, you can fuck right off. We aren’t leaving,” Drystan countered.

  “No, I figured you’d show up sooner or later. You’ve always been my friend.”

  “Except for those few months when he was pouting,” Conley pointed out.

  “I deserved his anger. I separated you both,” Chander replied. “When they find me guilty and execute me, don’t be sad.”

  “You aren’t going to be found guilty, and you’re not going to be executed,” Drystan said.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “First, they need Con and me to cooperate to even build a case.”

  “Which we sure as shit won’t do,” Conley added.

  “And let’s say, for argument’s sake, they managed to convict you, they still can’t execute you. That punishment wasn’t added until later. They have to sentence you based on the guidelines available six centuries ago,” Drystan explained. “That was prior to the Order of the Fallen Knights existing, so each race had their own system of justice.”

  “The Order of Necromancia would love to kill me.”