“Next time, ask Avraniel to show you how to carve up a cow. I’m sure she’s good at it, and those daggers of hers aren’t so different from your claws.”
Spot gave a low rumble of discontent. Mother busy now.
“Don’t worry. She’s probably doing something crazy, so she doesn’t want you around in case you get hurt.”
Timmy finished one side of Spot’s mouth and then switched to the other side. It continued to amaze him that despite how young he was, Spot could very easily rip his arm off. Timmy had no idea what the gods had been thinking when they’d created dragons. Perhaps they’d been thinking about the most efficient way to kill things, lots of things. Not only were dragons extremely powerful but they were also extremely bad at taking orders. They would rather die than be turned into slaves, which was why zombie dragons existed. They were the closest people could normally get to an obedient dragon.
“It’s okay. You can spend the morning with me. I don’t know if you understand how great zombies are yet, but there’s no time like the present to learn.”
Timmy spent another ten minutes cleaning Spot’s teeth before he declared the operation a success. At this rate, he’d have arms like tree trunks. That wasn’t to say that he had weak arms. He was a necromancer who engaged in a rather unusual amount of melee combat with a shovel. His arms were fine, but brushing a dragon’s teeth was hard work. Hmm… maybe he could get the rats to do it once Spot got bigger. At some point, the dragon would get big enough for the rats to crawl around in his mouth without any problems, and the rodents were good with weapons. Timmy would have to ask them about it later. He’d talk to Cezanne. The old rat should be able to round up at least a few of his fellows who might be interested in cleaning a dragon’s teeth. With Spot’s teeth as clean as he could get them, he headed to Katie’s main laboratory with the dragon padding after him. It was time to get started on the ogre mage.
“You can watch, Spot, but don’t touch anything – and definitely don’t burn or eat anything.” Timmy paused. “On second thought, you’re perfectly welcome to burn or eat something if it rebels against us.” He fumbled in his pocket. Good. He had a few treats in there, and Spot would undoubtedly get hungry throughout the day. “Trust me. This will be fun.”
Katie was already waiting for him, tapping one foot impatiently on the stone floor of the laboratory as she double-checked to make sure that everything was ready. She glanced at Spot. The dragon wagged his tail. “Have we got Spot for the day?”
“Probably.” Timmy ruffled her hair and dodged a swipe of her shadows. Spot, however, got a scratch under his chin with those same shadows. “Ready to start?”
“Definitely.” Katie let loose her most evil cackle, and Timmy joined her. Not wanting to be left out, Spot did his best to cackle too. It was, Timmy thought, not bad for a first try. “Let’s get started!”
Timmy walked over to the table where Katie had put the ogre mage. There were times when he truly envied his apprentice. When Timmy had needed to haul something heavy onto a table when he’d been a kid, he’d been forced to either get a zombie to help him or to do it himself since his master had enjoyed watching him struggle and considered it an excellent way for Timmy to build up his strength. It also explained Timmy’s occasional bouts of lower back pain. Katie, however, could use her shadows to lift things. He still wasn’t entirely sure of how much she could lift, but an ogre was no problem for her, so long as she didn’t have to carry it around for too long. Katie had already stitched the ogre mage’s heads back on, and it only took a brief inspection to see that she’d done it with her usual excellence.
“I know you’ve reanimated things with magical powers before, but this ogre mage will be the most powerful magic user you’ve reanimated on your own. Tell me, how does necromancy work?”
Katie didn’t skip a beat, nor did she make any snarky comments. This was serious business now, and she knew that when he asked her questions like this, there was always a point to it. The joking would come later, once he was confident she understood what she needed to do. “Necromancy uses magic to instil magical life into things that are already dead. This magical life mimics many of the processes of natural life, such as movement, sight, and so on, but without actually restoring true life. Restoring true life – in particular the bond between soul and body – is the focus of other forms of magic, such as resurrection magic. Necromancy is closer to puppetry, with the necromancer playing the part of puppeteer.”
“Exactly. Necromancy also stops – or vastly decreases – the rate at which a corpse decays when performed correctly.” Timmy poked and prodded the ogre mage. Excellent. Gerald’s magic was perfect for preserving corpses. If only the bureaucrat had been born a necromancer, he would have been so successful – or maybe not, given his tendency to run around and scream when threatened. “The problem with reanimating mages is that each person’s magic is unique. Like the soul, it is part of who they are. A mere puppet, even one made out of a corpse, cannot use magic. For some creatures magic does linger after death. Dragons, for example, are inherently magical creatures, so their magic remains even after they die, at least in part, which is why they make such powerful zombies.”
He bent down and patted Spot’s head. “Don’t worry, Spot. We’re not going to turn you into a zombie. Anyway, for species like humans and ogres, magic is tied to the soul, so it deteriorates quickly once someone is dead. For obvious reasons, binding the complete soul of a zombie to your will is a lot harder than simply reanimating a corpse, which is why most necromancers don’t bind souls to zombies even if it would make their zombies more intelligent and durable. The trick to reanimating a zombie with magic is to look for the remnants of magic left behind in the corpse and to use necromancy to build them back up.”
“Okay.” Katie nodded slowly, brows furrowed. “But what’s the best way to do that?”
“It can be tricky,” Timmy admitted. “Normal necromancy is like stoking the embers of a dying fire. As long as the body isn’t completely decomposed, it isn’t too hard. You’re basically throwing straw on top of a dwindling fire. Of course, you can also make things like skeleton warriors, but they take more power since you need to invest more magic into simply keeping their bodies together. Reanimating a dead mage’s magic is like trying to restart a fire that’s burnt down to nothing more than ash. It takes a lot of skill and a lot of subtlety. You need to focus on the residual magic, really get a feel for it, and then start feeding your necromancy into it to bring it back. Once you’ve got a connection going, you have to start reanimating the corpse at the same time, bringing back just enough of their soul to maintain that connection without having them rebel against you. It can be tricky, but you’re ready to try this on your own.”
Katie gasped. “That’s why you had me fight him – so I would have a better feel for his magic.”
“Yes.” Timmy smirked and ducked pre-emptively. “And because it was too much effort. I would have told you, but you wouldn’t have believed me at the time.” Katie decided to diversify her attack by going for his ankles, but he hopped over her shadows. Good. She was beginning to anticipate his reactions. “Now, give it a try.”
Timmy observed patiently for the better part of an hour until Katie got it right. She was a quick learner. It had taken him twice as long, and that had been impressive in its own right. Not far away, Spot watched intently, his silver eyes following everything. Oh, right. Dragons could see magic. It was one of the many, many things that made them so dangerous. Mages couldn’t surprise them easily, and they rarely fell for the same magical trick twice. There were even dragons that specialised in eating magic although they were supposed to be much smaller and cuter than their larger kin.
“What do you think?” Timmy asked Spot. The dragon had clambered on top of him to get a better view. It was actually not that unpleasant. Laboratories could get a bit chilly, and Spot was very warm. Plus, the dragon was oddly cuddly for a reptile.
Not dead. Spot flicked his tongue out
at the zombie ogre mage. Magic funny.
“That usually happens with reanimated mages. Their magic takes a while to settle after you reanimate them, and this is her first try on her own.”
“It seems to be going well,” Katie murmured as the zombie ogre mage stood and awaited her command. “He’s weaker than when I fought him – noticeably weaker.”
“That’s actually your fault.” Timmy snickered at Katie’s put out expression. “Although it is virtually impossible to reanimate a powerful mage at their full strength, how close they are to it depends on two main factors: their original power relative to yours and your skill in necromancy. If I had wanted to, I could have brought the ogre mage back at full power. At the moment, I’d say you’re looking at roughly fifty per cent of his original magical power.” He chuckled. “Practice more, and you’ll do better next time.” He paused as one of his zombies on patrol reached out to him through their mental link. “We have a visitor.”
“Oh? Who is it?”
“James is coming.” Timmy smirked evilly. “Hey, Spot, how would you like to meet the councillor?”
Spot trilled hopefully. Food?
“No, Spot. You can’t eat him.” Timmy’s smirk widened. “Yet.”
* * *
Timmy called off his zombies and sent a surreptitious message to the rats to be ready. He was confident that James hadn’t come to pick a fight, but if he had, zombies wouldn’t be much good against him. There was simply too much for James to use here. The castle itself was well protected from magic, but the other man could easily use his magic to shatter the cobblestones in the courtyard. He could then turn all of those bits of broken stone into projectiles capable of tearing through even a well-made zombie. True, the cobblestones were also designed to resist magical attack, but James’s magic was far too powerful for that to work for more than a second or two.
Only the most exotic of Timmy’s zombies could stand up to the barrage James could unleash with barely more than a thought. Timmy should be fine using his earth magic to defend himself, but the rats could prove decisive. Those crazy, little blighters were assassins who could turn invisible and use magic. One of them wouldn’t be a problem for James, but a few dozen? Even James would struggle against so many, especially in an unfamiliar environment. And when that happened – when James was more focused on the rats than Timmy – that was when Timmy would send in the zombies. For all of his magical power, James was still human. Timmy had knocked Avraniel out with his shovel. He could definitely do the same to James if he put his mind to it.
Of course, the pompous jerk couldn’t have arrived on foot or on horseback like a normal person. No, that was far too pedestrian for such an esteemed and worthy member of the Council. Instead, James had arrived on a griffin, and not just any griffin. The damn thing was draped in James’s personal colours and livery, along with those of the Council, the war mages he was in charge of, and those of the House of Arthurs. It was hideously gaudy, and Timmy sincerely hoped James went into his next battle like that. It would give the enemy something nice and colourful to aim at.
At least the griffin itself wasn’t a complete disaster. The beast coming in to land was an excellent specimen – and Timmy had used griffins in enough of his zombies to know. It was huge and powerfully built with the proud, broad shoulders, large wings, and pointy beak of a bloodline that had been bred exclusively for battle. It was incredibly swift in the air but still agile as it banked sharply and then slowed down to land on the other end of the main courtyard. The griffin stood there for a moment, and Timmy could have sworn it actually preened and struck a pose as James eyed the castle with no small amount of disdain before he dismounted.
Timmy was sorely tempted to throw his shovel at James. It wasn’t worth it. Not only did he need it in case there was trouble but he was also certain that James would be able to dodge it. The councillor was aggravatingly hard to injure, let alone kill. And what was James so disdainful about? The main courtyard was awesome although, admittedly, some of the plants had been chosen to inspire fear and terror in addition to a suitable amount of awe. Hmm… he should have paid closer attention to Avraniel when she had been helping him decorate this area, but he thought it looked good. A necromancer’s castle was supposed to be an intimidating sanctum of magical power. Carnivorous plants were eminently suitable for that purpose, so long as they were well behaved.
Spot nudged Timmy’s leg with his head and nodded at the griffin. Food?
Timmy bit back a smile. Only a dragon would view a griffin as prey. “Not yet, Spot. You’re not big enough to take on a full-grown war griffin. In a few years, though, I’m sure you’ll be able to give it a run for its money.”
Griffins were half-eagle and half-lion and larger than either. Full-grown griffins were enormous – two or three times as large as a horse. War griffins were larger still. The one James had arrived on was at least four times bigger than a horse. Griffins were one of the few creatures capable of facing a dragon in the air without being completely overwhelmed and chased down. They also possessed powerful protective magic that made them impervious to lesser magic and weaker physical attacks. Many griffins also had healing magic, and according to legend, they were naturally drawn to people of a noble and honourable nature.
Quite frankly, Timmy thought it was all a load of rubbish. Most of the griffins he’d encountered had been drawn to pompous, arrogant knights who’d been desperate to prove themselves with various acts of insanely pointless valour – like picking a fight with a full-grown inferno dragon for no reason other than to prove their bravery. Sure, Timmy would fight a dragon if he wanted to make one into a zombie, it attacked his castle, or it was part of earning his pardon, but he was not about to pick a fight with one of the world’s greatest engines of death without a very, very, very good reason.
And then there were the paladins that griffins often favoured. Most of them were so self-righteous that he could barely stifle the urge to bash them over the head with his shovel. And, of course, there was James. Any animal that liked James needed to have its head checked. Admittedly, not all griffins were bad. Vicky had one although she didn’t ride him much since her magic let her fly, but Beaky – so-named due to his ridiculously sharp beak – had been nice and mild tempered with a good sense of humour. Beaky had also once pushed James into a puddle face first, thereby earning Timmy’s eternal friendship.
As it was, Spot currently didn’t stand a chance against a full-grown war griffin. He was too small to fight one up close, and he lacked the speed and agility in the air to match one in aerial combat. His fire also still had some way to go before it was hot enough to completely overwhelm the durability that griffins were famous for. When he was older, it would be a different story. All Spot had to do was keep growing, and his odds against any opponent would improve. It was one of the main advantages of being a dragon.
“Come on, Spot.” Timmy hefted his shovel over his shoulder. “Let’s go say hello.”
Timmy ambled over and met James in the middle of the courtyard. His griffin had followed him, and it peered at first Timmy and then Spot with the same look of distaste that royalty would have reserved for a particularly odious beggar. Timmy rolled his eyes. Griffins could be such arrogant creatures. He was tempted to call out his zombie basilisk-griffin-badger to teach this griffin a lesson.
“So,” Timmy began. “What brings you to Black Tower Castle?”
James’s lips curled. “Rest assured that I’m not here for the company.” He glanced behind Timmy, and his eyes widened. “The dragon seems a lot larger than I remember.”
“His name is Spot, and he’s a growing boy. It won’t be long before he cracks six feet.” Timmy smiled at James’s unease. “Dragons are supposed to grow rapidly in their youth before slowing down as they get older.”
“Impressive.” James leaned forward as if to get a better look at Spot before thinking better of it.
“Yes. From what I’ve been able to find out, they go through several growt
h spurts before settling into a slower, steady rate of growth. Right after hatching is supposed to be a period of rapid growth. It’s most likely a defence mechanism since most animals won’t even think of attacking something bigger than they are.”
“Fair enough.” James glanced back at his griffin. There were several satchels and bags attached to it. “Victoria has entrusted me with copies of several manuscripts that you might find useful in raising the dragon.”
“Spot.”
James made an exasperated sound. “I cannot believe the elf named him Spot.”
“Neither can I, but it is his name. I suggest that you use it. It might make him less likely to eat you.” Timmy braced his shovel against the ground and leaned on it. “So, why are you here, James? Not that I don’t enjoy our little chats, but we both know you’re not here on holiday.”
“I’m here on business. We – no – I have a mission for you, and it’s one only I can fully explain.” James gestured grandly with one hand. “Gather the others.”
“Yes, master,” Timmy replied with a mocking bow. “Jerk.”
“Idiot.”
“Fool.”
“It’s good that we understand each other.” James sneered. “I received some more interesting mail lately.”
Timmy did his best not to smile. “Did you?” He and Katie might have been involved. “What was it?”
“Someone had a crate full of rabid zombie squirrels delivered directly to my office. It was a total debacle.”
“How unfortunate.” It took all of Timmy’s considerable willpower to keep a smile off his face. The rabid zombie squirrels had been Katie’s idea, that devious girl. James had dealt with their hydra in a box easily enough, but they had packed dozens upon dozens of rabid zombie squirrels into the crate. A single large target was easy for James to handle, but a multitude of smaller targets was more difficult. They had also included a small scrying crystal that had self-destructed later on, so they could watch everything unfold as it happened. It had been absolutely hilarious. James had been forced to retreat onto his desk as the zombie squirrels had run amok.
Two Necromancers, a Dragon, and a Vampire (The Unconventional Heroes Series Book 3) Page 12
