Amanda laughed. It was a smooth, rich, velvety sound. “Oh, you are amusing. What is your name, necromancer?”
“My friends call me Timmy.” He glanced over to the side as Katie and Gerald arrived, huffing and puffing.
“We made it!” Gerald threw his hands in the air in a gesture of triumph. “We made it!”
“Is everything okay, master?” Katie asked. “Where is the… oh.” She made a face and looked away from Tithion. “I guess that’s the end of him.”
“It most certainly is.” Amanda chuckled throatily. “The fool has paid for his crimes against me in a manner wholly fitting for one who has wronged a vampire. It is a pity, however, that his blood tasted so foul.”
“That might have been my fault since he got bitten by one of my zombie snakes just before you arrived.” Timmy gestured at Amanda. “Gerald, can you summon her some clothes or something? We need to get a move on.”
Katie cackled. “Did you use the old zombie snake hidden on a zombie hydra trick again, master?”
“Hey, it might be an oldie, but it’s a goodie. Nobody ever sees it coming.”
Gerald gave Amanda some clothes and a pair of boots, and they waited for her to change before they ran out of the building. To absolutely no one’s surprise, most of the Nameless Citadel was on fire. Indeed anything that could burn was burning. Avraniel was up on a nearby roof laughing as she continued to throw fire at anything that moved. Nearby, Spot was chasing after a half-melted earth elemental with a hungry gleam in his eyes. As for Old Man, he had stopped fighting to enjoy some tea with the demolition rats on a roof overlooking the carnage. Every now and then, one of the rodents would take a quick peek over the side of the building and lob some explosives onto the streets below.
“Are they friends of yours?” Amanda drawled. “They do seem rather… odd.”
“That’s a polite way of putting it.” Timmy flared his magic and raised his voice to make sure the others noticed him. “All right, guys! Get down here. We are leaving!” He turned to Gerald. “Store the rest of my zombies and bring out the zombie wyverns.”
And that was how they left, all of them piled onto a pair of zombie wyverns while Avraniel fired a few parting shots to make sure nobody even thought of following them. Admittedly, pretty much everything was already on fire, but it couldn’t hurt to be extra sure. Plus, the elf was quite certain that one of the remaining water elementals had looked at her funny. Of course, the only reasonable thing to do in response was to kill it – with fire, lots and lots of fire.
Chapter Twelve
Timmy used his magic to push the zombie wyverns as hard as possible. This was no time to get cocky. Despite the massive amount of damage they – well, mostly Avraniel – had done to the Nameless Citadel, it wouldn’t be more than a day or two before whoever was now in charge sent people after them. Their main advantage was that most of the citadel’s strongest personnel were likely to be either dead or otherwise incapacitated. Tithion had met his end at Amanda’s hands, and his loss alone would slow the citadel down considerably as the survivors jockeyed for control. Their best bet was to get to Kargahd before the sun rose and rest there for a day before returning to Everton. Since they would be arriving at night, they would either have to sneak in or ask Burag for help. With any luck, the residual magic in the Desert of Glass should make it difficult to pick up their trail. Walking around with a vampire in the middle of the day was also not the best idea.
“You seem to be in quite a hurry,” Amanda murmured as they landed near Kargahd and began the short walk to the city. “Are you perhaps concerned by what fate awaits me with the coming of the dawn? Rest assured, I shall not catch fire or anything so pedestrian once the sun rises.”
Timmy stopped. “Are you absolutely sure? Because we went to a lot of trouble to bust you out of the Nameless Citadel, so if you turn into dust or something…”
“Yes, I shall be fine.” Amanda’s lips curved up into a smirk. “I do, of course, prefer the night to the day, but I am an ancient vampire. Centuries have passed since my turning. My sire was directly descended from the progenitor of the vampire race, and I have –”
Timmy held one hand up. Vampires were notorious for being inordinately and absurdly proud of their lineage, but they needed to keep moving. “I’m sure your lineage is wonderful, but we have to pick up the pace. If we can get some rest today, we should be able to leave at nightfall and be back in Everton well before anyone from the Nameless Citadel has a chance to catch us.”
Amanda chuckled. “Not many people are brave enough to interrupt me.”
“You should consider yourself lucky,” Avraniel muttered. “That idiot hit me over the head with a shovel. He also wanted me to urinate while tied to a tree.”
“Really?” Amanda’s eyes gleamed. They were completely blue now but still a tad brighter than human eyes should be. “This group grows more and more intriguing.” She pointed to each of them in turn. “We have a Grand Necromancer, an apprentice who seems to think that pink goggles are appropriate for a necromancer-in-training, an elf who is legendary for her pyromania, a swordsman who I could have sworn has been dead for decades, and a bunch of unnaturally intelligent rats that can turn invisible and appear to be rather handy with weaponry. Oh, and I must not forget to mention the young dragon and the Council bureaucrat. It is such a relief to see that the bureaucracy has not changed much since I left.”
“Great,” Timmy said. “Keep walking.”
They managed to sneak into the city without incident courtesy of the rats’ talent for making things invisible and Katie’s magic. They got a room at the same inn as before, and Timmy sent a message to Burag. It wasn’t long at all before the burly captain arrived at the inn and rushed over to Timmy.
“What did you do, my friend?” Burag laughed and lifted Timmy into the air. He shook the necromancer a few times before setting him back on his feet. “Everyone in the city saw the pillar of light from the Desert of Glass. Did it come from the Nameless Citadel?”
“Yes, it did. Do you remember the barrier around the Nameless Citadel?”
“It is supposed to be impenetrable. No man has ever –”
“I sort of blew up it. I mean it’s only out of commission temporarily, but it’ll be a while before it’s back up to full strength.”
Burag’s eyes bulged, and then he threw back his head and laughed even harder than before. He was laughing so hard that he could barely stand, and he had to stumble over to the wall and brace himself against it to keep from falling to his knees. “Only you, my friend, only you could manage such a thing.” He dragged in a few deep breaths to calm himself, and his gaze shifted to the only person in the group he hadn’t met before. “And she must be the person you were sent to get.” He paused. “She isn’t human, is she? She is… a vampire, I think. But something troubles me about her.” He pointed to the window. Dawn had broken, and several rays of sunlight had spilled through the window to shine on Amanda’s hand. However, the vampire was not on fire. Her flesh wasn’t even smoking.
Timmy had once seen a vampire several centuries old light up like a torch after being exposed to direct sunlight. It would almost have been comical if it hadn’t been for all the screaming and the fact that the burning vampire had chased after him in a desperate bid to kill him before succumbing to his own injuries. It made him wonder about how strong Amanda was and how she’d been captured in the first place.
“She must be an ancient vampire if she can endure the light.” Burag shook his head. “You run into some very strange people, my friend.”
“I’d hate to be boring.” Timmy threw one arm around Burag’s shoulders. At least, he tried to. The other man was obnoxiously tall. “Naturally, I need you to keep this to yourself.” He nodded at Gerald, and the bureaucrat summoned a sack that he could barely lift. “And your information was perfect. Here’s the rest of what I owe you.”
Burag took the sack from Gerald and peered into it. He smirked. “My friend, if you ever need
my help again…”
“I’ll let you know. So about keeping this quiet…”
“Bah!” Burag waved one hand. “No one will speak of this. I will see to it. The Nameless Citadel is no friend of mine and no friend to this city. I am the Master of the Gate. My men will not speak a word without my leave, and I have been careful to hide my dealings with you. I promise you that if they learn anything about you, it will not be from me or mine, and it will not be from anyone loyal to this city. On this, you have my word.” Burag gave Timmy a friendly punch on the arm and almost knocked the necromancer over. “How shall we celebrate your success? If you wish to recover some of your magic, then you must stay until nightfall! Let us eat and drink! If you can sneak into my house without being seen, I shall swear all my servants to secrecy and have my wife prepare a feast. You can even meet my children –”
Timmy cut him off. “You have children now?”
“It has been years since you visited.” Burag’s eyes shone. “The gods have seen fit to bless me and my beloved wife with five children, all healthy.” He put his hands on his hips. “A set of twins first and then triplets. Ah, the gods, my friend, they have been good, and my wife passed through each birth without harm. A man could not ask for more.”
“You never mentioned that you had kids before.” Timmy had written to Burag regularly over the years.
“You never asked.”
“Fair enough. Don’t worry. We can sneak into your house without being noticed, and it would be nice to meet your children before I leave. But can you trust your servants? It wouldn’t do for any of them to talk.”
“Be at ease. I have chosen my servants well. I promise you that not one of them will breathe so much as a whisper about you without my approval.”
* * *
Timmy rubbed his stomach and stretched out on his zombie wyvern. Ah, it had been a good, good meal. He hadn’t even realised how hungry he was until he’d seen and smelled all of the lovely food that Burag’s wife and her servants had prepared. Desert food was, for the most part, rich and spicy, exactly the sort of thing he needed to recover after using so much of his magic. True, it would have been quicker to simply chug down some potions, but potions always left him with an awful headache. It also wasn’t nearly as enjoyable as eating some good, wholesome food prepared by people who really knew what they were doing. Nor was drinking a potion as fun as talking about old times with Burag and discussing their plans for the future. Timmy had a feeling that if things went well for the other man, he might end up running Kargahd one day. Indeed, Burag had been only too happy to share some of his schemes and plots. It seemed that having the option to retreat to Everton if things went poorly had reinvigorated him. If he did manage to get control of the city, Timmy would have to visit more often.
The others had also appreciated the feast, and they’d attacked it with the same ravenous intent he had, albeit with a few differences. True to form, Gerald and Old Man insisted on eating with polite reserve although both of them had gone back for seconds, thirds, and fourths. Gerald had been particularly fond of the spiced lamb whereas Old Man had favoured an intriguing dish featuring shredded beef, vegetables, and sauces, all of it wrapped in bread. Katie had tried to hold herself back – apparently, it wasn’t appropriate for a menacing necromancer-in-training to devour food like a starving badger – but the girl had never before had a chance to sample so many of the delicious delights the desert offered. Her reserve had given way when the servants had brought out a platter of carefully cooked and seasoned lamb and chicken with dipping sauces. Katie had loved it so much that she’d ended up with some on her forehead. Timmy, being the wise and caring master that he was, had kindly refrained from pointing it out until the meal was almost over. Katie would most likely have tried to murder him, but she was too full of good food to be mad. As it was, she had settled for half-heartedly stabbing at him with a few of her shadows.
As for the rats, Burag had been kind enough to have a small table of sorts set up for them. It was one that suited their size much better than a regular table, and it was close enough to the main table to avoid being seen as a slight, as opposed to a matter of practicality. Burag’s children had been suitably impressed by the ninja rats, which they viewed as being far more incredible than anything as pedestrian as a cat or a dog. They had pets, but those pets couldn’t use magic or turn invisible, and they certainly couldn’t handle weaponry. The rats, more than a little amused by the children’s enthusiasm, had been happy to treat the children kindly. Some of them had even shown off their skills with their respective weapons, and Rembrandt had found himself the centre of attention as he peeled and cut an apple as only a rodent who was also a master swordsman could.
Timmy’s biggest concern had been Avraniel, but the elf had feasted as merrily as any of them. Her mood was much improved not only by victory but also by all of the destruction she’d wrought and thoughts of the reward she would receive. She had also heaped praise upon Burag’s wife in a way that was disturbingly charming compared to her usual demeanour, most likely in a bid to prise the recipes for everything out of the woman. He had a feeling the elf wouldn’t wait more than a day or two before getting the cooks at the castle to attempt to replicate her favourite dishes.
Spot was allowed to eat with them but only after promising to eat as tidily as possible. The dragon was true to his word, and he had used his claws to carve up the meat they served him before eating it in a way that didn’t end with a lot of it splattered on the walls, floor, and ceiling. As with the rats, the children had found the dragon fascinating, and he had basked in the attention he’d received although Burag was wise enough to give the children several stern warnings about doing anything foolish, like grabbing Spot’s wings or pulling his tail. It would ruin the feast if the dragon got angry and ate someone. He’d grown noticeably bigger since the last time they’d been in the city, and he was now almost four and a half feet long.
Amanda had been the very picture of a well-bred aristocrat during the feast. She had eaten the food with utter delicacy and elegance, and she had offered a sophisticated and expert critique on each dish before seamlessly steering the conversation toward international affairs and commerce. It was hard to believe she had been held in one of the world’s most secure prisons not even a day ago, most likely while being horribly tortured.
“I wasn’t aware vampires ate food,” Timmy said. “I thought you ate people.”
“Hardly. And vampires do not eat people. We drink their blood. There is a difference.” Amanda took another sip of wine. She savoured it for the perfect amount of time before swallowing. Her hair had been styled in a fashionable braid that went almost to her waist. “It is certainly true that not all of my kind can consume normal food. It depends mostly on which bloodline you are from and how old you are. I am descended from the oldest and noblest of all vampire bloodlines. I thus never lost the ability to enjoy food. It does not, of course, provide me with the same nourishment and strength as blood, but it is more than acceptable.” Amanda lifted her wine glass in a salute to Burag’s wife who blushed prettily at the gesture. “And the the aroma of such fine fare is truly lovely. The desert produces such wonderful food. It is so very warm and fragrant.”
They had left not long after sunset, once Burag was sure their departure could occur unmarked. Now, they were winging their way back to Everton on a pair of zombie wyverns. As the controller of one of those zombie wyverns, Timmy was not the least bit concerned about falling off. Not only did he have good balance and a rope within easy reach but he could also command the zombie to catch him. Simply relaxing on a zombie wyvern was not hard for him. His master had gone much further than that and taught him how to fight on top of one by attacking him whenever a flight got too boring. Timmy clucked his tongue. His master might have been an unbelievably horrible person, but his training had definitely produced results.
“So you are the current ruler of Black Tower Castle,” Amanda said. She rode on the same zombie wyver
n as Timmy and Gerald. Katie, Avraniel, and Old Man were on the other one while Spot flew alongside, occasionally hitching a ride whenever he got tired. The rats had been split up between them although their small size meant that the zombie wyverns barely noticed the extra weight.
Spot’s stamina had improved, but he was still very young. He had yet to develop the unearthly endurance that full-grown dragons were famous for. In time, he would be able to fly for days on end – in time. For now, a few hours at a time were all he could manage at the speed they were going. And it wasn’t like Katie minded having him ride on the zombie wyvern behind her. It could get quite cold when flying at night, and Spot was very warm.
“I remember that place, Black Tower Castle,” Amanda murmured. She wasn’t clutching onto the zombie wyvern for dear life like Gerald. Instead, she reclined like a queen on a couch. “Although it has been so many years since I have laid eyes on it myself. I believe it was more of a shrine than a castle when I last saw it. I daresay, the place was – how shall I put it – quaint.”
“Really?” Timmy would have to ask her about it later. He wasn’t entirely sure how old Amanda was, but she predated the foundation of Everton and Black Tower Castle. There were things about the castle’s history that perhaps only she knew. She might even know more about the ruins he’d found in the lightless depths below the castle, the ones that clung stubbornly to the sides of the abyssal chasms of boundless horror the way that barnacles clung to the side of a ship. “How old are you?”
Amanda waggled one finger in the air, and she gave him a coquettish smile. It made Timmy think about what her role had been when she’d served as one of the key advisors to the emperor of the Eternal Empire. He could tell that she was incredibly intelligent and cunning, but she seemed capable of hiding everything behind a smile. And speaking of her smile, her current smile was also a touch unnerving since it revealed her elongated canines. He was reminded, again, that vampires ate people like him. “How rude of you, sir, to ask a woman her age.”
Two Necromancers, a Dragon, and a Vampire (The Unconventional Heroes Series Book 3) Page 24
