Necromancer's Curse

by D. M. Almond

  “The Agimat is indeed resting on a pedestal in my solar,” Isaac admitted.

  “Fat good that does us,” Broxlin grumbled.

  Thorgar shook his head at Isaac, clearly annoyed, and turned to his men. “Broxlin, Fodlor, Gabbrix, gather ‘round so we can discuss our next move.”

  “Wait!” Isaac said. “Here me out. The Agimat is in my solar, but I have a way we can get there without leaving these halls.”

  Thorgar turned with a furrowed brow. “Go on.”

  “We can walk the Gralok to get there.”

  Broxlin gaped. “You’re mad.”

  The king, however, looked unmoved by the proclamation, rubbing his beard thoughtfully.

  “My lord, you must see the mage has lost his wits,” Broxlin protested.

  “Oalthrindir, no man has walked the Gralok for ages, not since the Severing,” King Thorgar said, though he made it sound like a question rather than a fact.

  “Ah, but I have done it before,” Isaac said, that tomcat smile returning to his face.

  “What’s he talking about?” Logan asked Bipp from the sidelines.

  Bipp shrugged. “Beats me. Sounds like another of Isaac’s crazy plans.”

  “And you believe you can walk them again?” Thorgar asked.

  “Without a doubt.”

  “Then what are you waiting for? Get on with it!” Thorgar waved his hands in encouragement.

  “It’s one thing to know the routes between where you are and where you need to go,” Isaac said. “And quite another indeed to travel the Gralok blind.”

  “Ah, I knew there would be a catch.” Thorgar snapped his fingers. “Out with it mage—what do you need?”

  “Just that you watch over my body while I am gone, as you can imagine if I should perish here, I cannot return.”

  “And?”

  “And…I need Alma to come with me,” Isaac said quickly.

  “Alma?”

  “With Corbin, of course. We’ll need him to anchor our psychic forms in this plane so that we may find our way back. Alma will be able to keep the damned at bay, and I will guide our way using this.” Isaac made a show of drawing their attention to his staff. “Drassil is carved from the sacred bark of the White Tree and will be able to attune to her.”

  “Hang on a second,” Logan demanded. “You’re not dragging Corbin anywhere, not until you explain just what in Hel this Gralok is.”

  Isaac arched an eyebrow and shot him a scornful frown that seemed to say, whose side are you on here?

  “Tell us,” Logan said undeterred, because the only side he was on was Corbin’s. He did not give a rat’s arse about all this other nonsense with the Necromancer or these gnome warriors, but he would do anything for the friends he had gathered in that room. And he would be damned if he was going to stand by as his brother was blindly drafted for some suicide mission.

  “The Gralok are the byways that exist between worlds. They were constructed at the dawn of the Aesir Empire, built by the hands of dwergaz and crafted to take one safely between the Nine Worlds.”

  “Except that was ages ago,” Thorgar added. “Before the time of the Second Shadow and the corruption. Ever since the Severing, only a fool would enter the Gralok. What you speak of is madness, Oalthrindir. I cannot allow you to take such risks.”

  “I’ll do it,” Corbin said.

  “Corbin?” Logan squeaked.

  “If it is necessary in order to stop the Necromancer, then I shall accompany Isaac to this Gralok.”

  “Well, we are going through the Gralok to the White Tree actually, but that’s only semantics,” Isaac said.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Logan asked. “The danger—”

  “Is a small price to pay to right the wrong we have done here. If we had not shown up, searching for the relic to destroy Baetylus, then all would still be as it was, and this evil would not be unleashed upon the world once more.”

  Logan felt torn. In his head he knew his brother was right, that they were to blame for releasing the Necromancer, but his heart was filled with dread at the thought of his brother wandering around in some dark place between worlds.

  “I will accompany you as well,” Alma said. Thorgar turned a surprised eye on the gnome priestess, where she sat with her back propped against the curved wall, still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She had woken up while they were discussing the Gralok and had listened to it all.

  The king opened his mouth, ready to deny her. They locked eyes, and Alma silently nodded. Thorgar’s shoulders sagged and he closed his eyes, giving a curt nod of approval. “So be it.”

  It was hours before the gnomes left the sanctuary, marching in a steady formation for the upper level. They had no time to waste, and there was much to be done.

  Try as Isaac might, he could not summon access to the Gralok from inside the Elium. Thorgar grumbled that he must be using the wrong spell or that those ancients paths were finally sealed off forever. However, Alma surmised that their holy sanctuary was blocking his spell. It made sense that a room designed to keep the undead and unholy at bay would negate the ability to access those corrupted paths.

  So it was to the royal library that they headed. If they were going to do this, then Thorgar was determined to have enough space to guard the trio’s Acadian forms as they made the journey. And they would have a tactical advantage defending the library, as there was a secret passage they could take which would circumvent the Necromancer’s patrolling undead.

  If they could get their hands on the Agimat, they would have the sacred power to banish the Necromancer from his corporeal form, thus severing the bond between him and the Shadow Stone. In that circumstance, Thorgar was convinced they would be able to slay the evil being once and for all.

  The paths that Fodlor had taken to the Elium linked to the castle’s secret tunnels, a series of halls built for the king and his men in times of emergency. The gnomes were an ever pragmatic people, always preparing for the worst, though none seemed happy that that day had come. The tunnels sloped ever upward as they journeyed from the bowels of the castle back up toward the second floor.

  “This is a bad idea,” Logan muttered to his brother.

  “Please, Logan,” Corbin said. “I have to do this.”

  “King Thorgar knows what he’s doing,” Bipp interrupted.

  “He seems just as skeptical as me,” Logan said. “What do you think, Nero?”

  The android looked mildly surprised to be called upon for an opinion. “I think…” his voice trailed off as they came to a four-way split in the dank tunnel. Nero craned his neck to the side, as if listening to something. A quarter of the gnomes had already turned down the left branch, but Nero was watching the right and straight tunnels alternately.

  “Is he…?” Corbin said.

  “Yep.” Logan nodded, reaching for Gandiva.

  “Damn it,” Bipp said.

  “What is it?” Broxlin called back, hearing the distressed gnome.

  “Skeletons, dozens of them,” Nero said. “They’re coming from both branches, and there appears to be something else with them.”

  “It’s an ambush!” Broxlin hollered.

  Thorgar shouted orders to his men. The warriors backtracked, flooding past Logan and his friends until there was a wall of them between the companions and the incoming enemy. Nero’s keen hearing had picked up the sounds of shuffling feet far before the fiends were on them, and that was good, because Thorgar and his gnomes were ready for the fight. The king stood at the front of his ranks and turned back to point at Isaac.

  “We will hold them down here. Follow this tunnel until you come to the end. There you will find the library.”

  Logan could hear the groans of the undead as they neared. Rusty swords were being dragged along the stone floor, and something soft and wet was padding on bare feet in the right corridor.

  “We will fight beside you!” Bipp said desperately.

  Isaac bowed to the king and turned to head for
the library with Nero and Corbin at his heels.

  Bipp tugged on Logan’s sleeve. “We can’t just leave them here,” he implored.

  Logan was not sure what they should do. From deep in the shadows, he could see movement as dozens of skeletons and ghouls neared from both tunnels.

  “Go on with ye, get out of here,” Thorgar growled, turning to face the undead with a snarl.

  Alma grabbed Bipp and forced him to look at her. “You have to come now. Your friends need you. I need you. Without the Agimat, we don’t stand a chance against the Necromancer.”

  Bipp took one last look at the king and gave a curt nod. Alma pulled him toward the left tunnel, and they chased after Isaac. Logan lingered for only a moment more, just long enough to see one of the ghouls lunge for the front row of gnomes. It was different than the skeletons, a newly deceased member of Thorgar’s warriors resurrected and forced to turn on the very people he served beside in life.

  The real horror was not that the dead gnome was trying to bite the face off one of its former comrades, nor that it kept coming even after its arm was severed. None of that frightened Logan quite as much as the look in the ghoul’s eyes. The gnome was still in there, futilely fighting against the Necromancer’s call. He looked downright horrified himself, and yet, there he was gnashing away with clacking teeth while he tore a warrior’s skin back with filthy, broken nails.

  Logan turned away as the ghoul’s head was severed and a wave of undead swarmed the ranks of proud gnome warriors. He was not a religious person, but he uttered a prayer for Thorgar and his men.

  Chapter 19

  “Doesn’t feel right, leaving them behind like that,” Logan said in a hushed voice. As they quickly marched through the labyrinthine corridors behind the castle walls, sounds of the battle had faded into the distance until the only thing they could hear was the sound of their own heavy breathing and boot heels clapping against the stone.

  “It’s nothing we wouldn’t have done if we were in the same shoes,” Corbin said.

  “That’s exactly it,” Logan said. “We’re supposed to be the ones who stand up to the enemy, not run away like cowards.”

  “There is nothing cowardly about our plan,” Alma said over her shoulder.

  Isaac silenced them. “We’re here. Lower your voices. There’s no telling what might be lurking on the other side of this door.”

  The dark tunnel ended in a recess with three rows of interlocking bars securing it in place. Corbin gingerly worked the levers, pulling each mechanism back. He was amazed by how smoothly the metal bars slid through the age-old locks, which surely had not been used since the fall of Ul’kor.

  Bipp caught Corbin’s nod and waggled his eyebrows. “That there’s gnome engineering at its finest.”

  With all of the locks drawn, Corbin gingerly pushed the door open a fraction of an inch. He leaned in, listening for sounds of the Necromancer’s minions. Something rustled on the other side of the door, but it was not close by. Corbin shot Nero a questioning look. The android was already listening. He held up three fingers then made a walking motion by working two fingertips over his other palm before flattening out his hand and twisting it backward.

  It was not hard for Corbin to decipher his meaning. There were three enemies in the room, walking away from the door. They were far enough away that it should be safe to have a closer look.

  Corbin returned his attention to the door and carefully let it swing wider. Once again he found it hard not to be impressed by the gnome craftsmanship that could build such a device that made not even a creak as it opened wide.

  Before them was a tall bookshelf laden with tomes. The library was much brighter than Corbin expected, and when he stepped out of the tunnel, he saw why. The library was a long and wide room, large enough to compare to any fair city’s grandest libraries. The whole place was built in an oval design, with rows of bookshelves lining the walls from the first floor to the second. A wide iron balcony circled the room, with rusted steps leading up to it not too far from where they entered. Murals were painted around the entire high wall, now faded and peeling. More rows of heavy oak bookcases sat on the marble tile floor, laid out to form wide aisles, and everything was covered in layers of dust and cobwebs.

  A massive stained-glass window covered at least half of the western wall to their left. Though it was grimy from years of disuse, Corbin could easily make out the depiction of a scholarly gnome holding an open book over his head. Waves of radiating light encircled it and rose to the heavens where three Valkyries watched on. The entire thing was lit from the glow of the outside world, flooding the library with an ambient light that gave stark contrast to the gloomy tunnels they had been trudging through.

  Corbin took all of it in within seconds and then crept up to the nearest bookshelf. He tried to move some books out of the way so that he might get a better view between the shelves, and they crumbled into small grains of rotted paper.

  He heard Bipp stifle a gasp behind him and shot the gnome a dark look. Bipp shrugged pitifully and pointed to the books.

  Corbin rolled his eyes and motioned for his companions to join him. One by one, they stepped into the library until the six of them huddled behind the shelf, peering through the gaps between books.

  Across the length of the room, three animated skeletons were poking and prodding around the stacks and rotted tables. The light from the window, which looked comforting upon arrival, gave the skeletons an eerie glow that Corbin found disturbing.

  He noticed his brother held Gandiva in his hands and was clenching his jaw tight. Corbin reached out and placed a hand on the weapon, gathering his brother’s attention, and slowly shook his head. Logan understood. He let the weapon lower toward his knees but did not put it away. He was obviously not going to take any chances.

  Bipp almost squeaked, drawing everyone’s attention. He had his hand clamped over his mouth and pointed up to the ceiling with wide eyes.

  Corbin’s heart skipped a beat and adrenaline flooded his body when he saw a murky version of himself staring back from high overhead. He lost his balance for a moment as his brain tried to make sense of how there could be a library over his head. The entire domed ceiling was lined with a buffed and polished silver that the gnomes used to make mirrors. It was covered with grime, and the reflection was murky, but there it was all the same. His eye immediately sought the skeletons across the room. Three blurry shapes were pacing about in the mirror.

  Corbin frowned and looked back down. He found the three skeletons, oblivious of Bipp’s squeak, still searching the other side of the room. When he looked up at the mirror, the three muddled shapes were still there.

  They waited for some time until finally the skeletons slunk away into the castle halls.

  Bipp sighed. “Thought they would never leave.”

  “I’m just relieved Logan didn’t attack them,” Corbin said.

  “Nothing wrong with being prepared,” Logan said.

  “There is when the whole point of what we are doing is to find a place where we can travel through the Gralok undetected,” Isaac said. He stood tall and gathered his robes, circling the tall bookshelf and headed for the western wall. “It’s going to be dangerous enough taking you two novices in there without also having to worry about the Necromancer sending his dread army after our exposed bodies.”

  Corbin could see his brother did not appreciate the mage’s tone. However, he was grateful when Logan shot a shrug toward Bipp and let it slide.

  “Alma,” Bipp asked, “why did those skeletons seem so blurry in the mirror?”

  Corbin looked up at the ceiling. “It’s pretty dirty up there.”

  “The Necromancer’s minions are not living creatures,” Alma said. “Gnome mirrors are fashioned from the olde silver, hammered and polished until they gleam. The olde silver is a substance of purity, capturing and holding the true light of this world. It is that light that the unholy abhor. Chiefly because they cannot stand to be in its radiance and trut
h, and since the Necromancer’s dread ranks are not of the natural world, their dark reflections cower and attempt to hide from that light. So what you see is the flickering of a soul pulled into our realm when it should be in the halls of death.”

  “Hmm, is that why hunters use silver-tipped arrows to hunt lycanthropes?” Logan asked, genuinely interested.

  “Yes, that old wives’ tale has roots in this,” Alma said. “But there is no such thing as a werewolf.”

  “Says the priestess who’s been dead for a couple centuries,” Logan mumbled to Bipp.

  “Hurry now,” Alma said, scurrying out from behind the shelf and waving for them to follow her to the library doors. “There’s not a moment to lose. King Thorgar and the men might not be able to slip away from the Necromancer’s minions for some time, and we’ve a good distance to travel, if I understood everything Isaac’s been telling me.”

  “Isaac, you are wrong,” Nero said, confusing them all with the odd statement. He pointed at the bemused mage and said, “Logan Walker was right to take precaution. He is as brave as he is pragmatic, and I agree with his actions.”

  Bipp giggled, a sound Corbin only now realized he had not heard since they had entered this place, and Logan clapped a hand on the android’s shoulder. It was oddly out of place for Nero to be defending him, or anyone for that matter, especially in the disjointed way he spoke. But at the same time it provided a bit of levity that they sorely needed. Corbin wondered if their talks about the android being his own person weren’t beginning to have an effect on him, however odd the delivery.

  “Yeah, sure.” Corbin shook his head with a wry grin. “That’s Logan…pragmatic. Now that we’ve cleared that up, can you help us get this door barricaded?”

  Alma peered out into the hall and checked both ways for signs of lingering skeletons. There were none, and they all fell to work, first closing the doors—which had no locks, since all gnomes believed everyone had a right to knowledge whenever and however they chose to pursue it—then barricading the entrance with whatever furniture they could get their hands on.