Two Necromancers, a Dwarf Kingdom, and a Sky City

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Two Necromancers, a Dwarf Kingdom, and a Sky City Page 20

by L. G. Estrella


  “Yep.” Timmy made sure the princess was securely tied to his zombie wyvern. He doubted she had much experience flying one, and he was not about let her fall off after all the hard work they’d done to rescue her. “But don’t worry, we’re the good guys. Well, mostly – at least relative to them.”

  The zombie hydra-drake-basilisk unleashed yet another tide of acid that melted stone and sent people scrambling for cover. As the slower and less fortunate guards were reduced to puddles of goo, the princess could only gape in horrified amazement. “Are you sure you’re the good guys?”

  “Pretty sure.” Timmy glanced at Katie. She was on the other zombie wyvern and ready to go. “We’re leaving. Avraniel and Spot, cover our retreat.”

  As the zombie wyverns took to the skies, the elf and the dragon rained fire down on the fortress. Anything that wasn’t already on fire was swiftly set alight, and anyone who tried to launch projectiles at them was either forced to retreat or incinerated beneath an avalanche of flame. The very last thing to leave was the zombie hydra-drake-basilisk. It lumbered into the air and fired off several more volleys of acid before adding insult to injury and melting the flag that had somehow managed to stay aloft above the central building.

  Mission accomplished.

  Chapter Six

  The port city of Galeran was one of the most orderly cities in the Combine, largely due to it being run by the merchants’ guild. The guild had used a combination of both legal and extra-legal means to crush any criminal organisations within the city and its surroundings. It turned out that ensuring the election of honest officials while hiring plenty of assassins and mercenaries to weed out aspiring crime lords was an effective way to deal with organised crime and conducive to good business. Displaying the mangled bodies of the aforementioned aspiring crime lords in cages hung from the city walls didn’t hurt either. It was grisly, but it got the point across.

  The crime lords that ruled much of the Combine were not welcome in Galeran.

  Timmy had selected this port for their exit strategy because flying all the way to the Shimmering Isles would have been both risky and tiring. The local leaders also owed him a few favours. Using regular troops to deal with the roving bands of marauders that had become increasingly common since the downfall of the monarchy could be incredibly expensive and time consuming. It was much easier to hire a necromancer, and it came with the added amusement of watching the zombies of one band of marauders kill other bands of marauders. The efficiency and irony of it had certainly appealed to some of the more powerful merchants, and they’d even given him a bonus for ‘accidentally’ unleashing the zombie marauders upon a neighbouring city that had made some unfortunate comments about expanding into their territory.

  They wouldn’t have to worry about Lord Tarrick’s forces pursuing them into the city either. Years of raids, banditry, and theft had turned the merchants’ guild and Lord Tarrick into bitter enemies. The sheer amount of damage they’d done to the crime lord’s compound and fortress made Timmy wonder how many people he had left, to say nothing of his greatly diminished funds following Avraniel’s looting of anything she could get her hands on. With his lieutenants either dead or in custody and with very little of his wealth remaining or accessible, it was entirely possible that most of the survivors would simply cut their losses and leave. A few might try to set up criminal organisations of their own, but it would be decades before they got anywhere close to the power Lord Tarrick had wielded. Anyone from his organisation that was foolish enough to enter Galeran would be killed on sight and added to the cages that lined the walls.

  And speaking of the crime lord, they’d kept him bound and gagged the entire time. They’d tried to interrogate him, but he’d glared mightily and had refused to speak a single word about his organisation or his backers. He had, however, gone into great detail describing what he would do to them if he ever managed to escape. Spot had overheard some of the threats and had promptly attempted to eat him. It had taken Avraniel, Amanda, and Chomp to drag him off before he could do any permanent damage. Spot did not like being threatened, and he definitely wasn’t going to let anyone threaten his friends.

  However, Timmy wasn’t worried about Lord Tarrick escaping. He’d asked the demolition rats to hide a small explosive on him. There was a tiny bomb full of hydra acid just waiting to melt Lord Tarrick’s chest if he ever stepped out of line. Timmy had also drawn a few runes and seals onto the crime lord’s body. If, by some miracle, the crime lord managed to escape, he was not going to live long enough to do anything.

  As useless as all of Lord Tarrick’s bluster was, Timmy wasn’t inclined to put up with it either. Once they were safely at sea, he’d send Amanda over to bite him and take a merry jaunt through his mind. He doubted there was a man alive who could resist the ancient’s powers once she’d managed to sink her fangs into him. If she happened to break a few things while rummaging around, well, Timmy wasn’t going to shed any tears for him.

  In the meantime, they were staying at a large house near the docks while they recovered and awaited the arrival of their ship. Timmy had spent the past day sorting out a few last minute details with the local authorities and the merchants’ guild. With Lord Tarrick’s organisation in ruins, now was the perfect time for them to strike and finish the job that Timmy and the others had started. More than one merchant who’d suffered heavy losses due to the crime lord’s predations was eager to march on his fortress, and with the damage they’d done to it, Timmy doubted it would last long against even a straightforward assault.

  Just for fun, they’d let Chomp spend time watching Lord Tarrick. The former assassin turned crime lord had eyed the massive dog warily while Chomp seemed inordinately pleased to be guarding something again. Timmy hadn’t dealt with any labyrinth hounds before, but guarding things was supposedly one of the activities they enjoyed the most. Chomp was still a bit cranky about being left behind during the attack on the fortress, but Avraniel had already begun to put the dog through his paces. The next time they had to attack a fortress, Chomp would be ready.

  While they waited for the ship to arrive, Timmy was also treated to the wonderful sight of his apprentice trying – and mostly failing – to make conversation with Princess Calista. In Katie’s defence, it wasn’t like being an apprentice necromancer gave her plenty of opportunities to socialise with other children, and the princess was in the same boat. Royalty was not conducive to casual conversation, and necromancers and princesses didn’t exactly have a lot in common. Indeed, his apprentice aside, the other young necromancers he’d met tended to be a fairly unsociable bunch. About half of them had a tendency to be excessively violent, another quarter were less violent but still moderately psychotic, and the vast majority of the remainder had a litany of issues ranging from pyromania to an unhealthy obsession with brewing bootleg alcohol. In fairness, Timmy had tried some of that alcohol. Young Trevor might be a fairly middling apprentice, but his whiskey was a thing of beauty. If necromancy didn’t work out for him, a career in making whiskey probably would. If Trevor couldn’t find the money to get started, then Timmy would be happy to send some money his way in exchange for a cut of the profits. With a war coming up, good whiskey would be worth its weight in gold.

  It was mildly terrifying to realise that he was, in all likelihood, the very proud master of arguably the most normal and well-adjusted apprentice in the world of necromancy. What did it say when a ten-year-old girl who spent most of her time hanging around with eldritch horrors, dragons, ninja rats, and former criminals who were basically walking natural disasters was considered eminently normal? Oh well. As long as she didn’t turn out like his master, he’d consider it a job well done, not that he could imagine Katie pulling off the alcoholic deranged swordsman look.

  Katie simply wasn’t good enough with a blade although one of their new maids – who was an assassin by trade – had been making a concerted effort to teach her more. Katie had taken to daggers reasonably well, but her attempts to swing a gr
eat sword had gone hilariously awry. The weapon had been bigger than she was. Old Man had also kindly offered to teach her how to use a sword, but they’d yet to set up a proper schedule since they were so busy with missions. She was very lucky. Unless Timmy badly missed his guess, Old Man was the greatest swordsman alive, and there was a good chance that he might be the best swordsman to ever live. He’d yet to see the older man break a sweat in a contest of swordsmanship, and Timmy was no slouch himself. He wasn’t on the same level as his master had been, but he’d yet to land a decent hit on Old Man despite having sparred him many times.

  Setting aside the strangeness of the recent events, the princess’s mood had risen considerably after she’d learned they would be travelling by sea. She had been justifiably outraged by her kidnapping, and she may or may not have tried to bribe Spot into ignoring Timmy’s instructions and eating Lord Tarrick. Apparently, she’d realised how much Spot liked chocolate and had managed to scavenge some from somewhere. Thankfully, Amanda had been around to put a stop to it before Spot could accomplish anything more serious than nibbling on the crime lord’s shoes.

  Spot had not been happy about having to spare Lord Tarrick, but Amanda had pointed out that giving Lord Tarrick to the princess’s father would ensure they got an even bigger reward. A bigger reward meant more treasure, and Spot had definitely begun to develop a draconic love for treasure. Still, Timmy had to hand it to the princess. After initially earning the dragon’s ire for trying to bash him over the head with a potted plant – which wouldn’t have done anything except make him mad – she had wisely done her best to win him over. Besides, after she’d gotten over her initial terror, she seemed to find the reptile fascinating and friendly, especially since she now knew she wasn’t on the menu.

  Katie hadn’t noticed it yet, but the princess was clearly familiar with ships. The calluses on her hands were the kind that came from scaling rigging and handling ropes, and her tan could only have come from frequent exposure to the sun. The Shimmering Isles were famous throughout the world for their navy, and no member of the royal family could ever hope to gain the navy’s respect without being willing to spend some time out on the open sea. The current king had served in the navy with distinction, and he was famous for leading several campaigns against raiders, pirates, and other seafaring miscreants himself.

  Unfortunately, that left his apprentice and the princess with precious little to talk about. Doing his best not to appear too obvious, he listened to the two children – and they were still children despite their occupations – try and mostly fail to make conversation. Ah, to be ten years old again – or not. At that age, he’d been doing his best to survive his master’s drunken and increasingly insane and deadly tests and training exercises. However, listening still gave him plenty of amusement as he enjoyed an afternoon snack although he would have to keep a close eye on Spot. The young dragon had toddled over after smelling chicken, and it was only a matter of time before he finished his share and tried to wheedle Timmy into handing over some of his. If there was one nice thing about being near the castle, it was having ready access to a growing herd of cattle for Spot to enjoy. At least Rembrandt was with Katie. If he’d been closer, Timmy would have had to worry about the rodent stealing some of his grapes. Knowing Rembrandt, he’d team up with Spot, and Timmy would find himself besieged on two fronts.

  “So… um… I like your dragon.”

  “Technically, he’s not my dragon.” Katie adjusted her glasses, and Timmy bit back a grin. She only did that if she was either very nervous or deep in thought. He could easily imagine what was going through her mind right now. She was probably trying to reason her way through the conversation, applying her immense intelligence and knowledge to the task instead of simply going with the flow. She could face down hordes of armed guards, but a regular conversation with another girl her age was enough to put her on edge. It brought a smile to his lips. It was good for Katie to be reminded that she wasn’t just a necromancer. She’d have plenty of time to become a stodgy ruler of darkness and death when she was older, but she would only be young once. “Avraniel is his mother.”

  “An elf is his mother?” Calista fiddled with the charm around her neck. Like Katie’s gesture, it was something she did when she was nervous. The charm belonged to one of the many gods of the sea and ocean that the Shimmering Isles worshipped, and there was some protective magic woven into it too. It hadn’t been enough to save her from getting kidnapped, but there were ways to deal with charms. Timmy knew dozens. “But… how does that even work? I mean… there are stories of dragons taking on human form, but wouldn’t that still be, you know, really weird?”

  Katie blinked and stared at the princess for a few moments before she realised what the other girl had implied. “No!” she blurted before lowering her voice as Spot stopped eyeing Timmy’s chicken long enough to turn his silver gaze toward the two girls. “I mean… she found his egg, and she’s been raising him ever since. It’s not like he’s been around for long. He might be over seven feet long, but he’s not even a year old.”

  “Oh.” Calista gaped at Spot. It was hard to blame her. He was the equivalent of a baby amongst dragons – a fire-breathing, armour-shredding, people-mangling baby. “Well, I am sorry about trying to hit him with a potted plant. It wouldn’t have done much good, would it?”

  Katie giggled. “No. He’s too tough for that. All you’d have done is make him mad, and I don’t think you want him mad at you.”

  Timmy managed to swallow a laugh. The audacity of someone trying to hit him with a potted plant was likely what had offended Spot the most. He was a dragon. One did not simply hit a dragon with a potted plant without consequences. He’d have been less angry if she’d used a sword. Seemingly bored with the conversation, Spot went back to eyeing Timmy’s lunch. The dragon was making more and more obvious moves toward it – Spot was awful at subtlety – and Timmy rolled off his eyes before breaking off a piece of chicken and throwing it to Spot.

  “The rest is mine. If you want more, go to the kitchen. They will make you some.”

  Spot chirped happily and devoured the piece of chicken before turning back to Timmy and making the draconic equivalent of puppy dog eyes. Considering his teeth were big enough to make short work of a grown man, he was nevertheless disturbingly cute and adorable. Thankfully, Timmy was immune.

  “Nice try, Spot. But I clean your teeth, and I’ve seen you eat people.”

  However, Spot wasn’t the only one who’d gotten hungry. Avraniel sauntered over with a plate of food for herself and several chickens for Spot. She put the chickens down in front of Spot and sat at the table. With a smirk on her face, she put her feet up and began to eat. The two girls looked at her expectantly. Avraniel looked back – and kept her feet resolutely on the table.

  The elf cackled. “You two should wait until you’re as strong as the people eater before even thinking of asking me to get my feet off the table. And you should thank the twerp, princess. If you’d actually hit Spot with that cactus, he might have eaten you.”

  Spot looked up from the chicken he was savouring – he’d chosen to nibble on it patiently rather than simply inhale it – and gave the princess the draconic equivalent of a warning look. It had not escaped Timmy’s notice that the dragon had eyed the potted plant near the princess warily before deciding to sit next to him. Don’t try it again… stupid.

  “I am not!” Calista shot back before realising she was arguing with a dragon. However, she must have grown much more comfortable in their presence because she drew herself up to her full height with regal composure. Timmy snickered as Katie looked at her enviously and sighed. They were almost the same age, but the difference in height was impossible to miss. Katie was definitely on the short side for her age, whereas the princess was very tall. “I was simply concerned that my captors had come up with some new way to torment me. Surely, I can be forgiven for thinking that a dragon might be a villain.”

  Spot responded by drawing hims
elf up and flaring his wings. Despite the stubbiness of his tail and the relative shortness of his neck, he nevertheless made for an impressive sight. I am not a villain! Dragons are good!

  “Of course, you’re not a villain.” Avraniel scratched Spot under the chin as the dragon sank back onto all fours. As he grew older, it would become easier for him to stand on two legs for longer periods of time. However, for the time being, going around on all fours was much more comfortable. It did not help that his head was bigger than it should be in proportion to the rest of him, as were his teeth. Lately, though, Timmy had noticed a slight shift in the dragon’s growth. He had a feeling that the next few of feet of growth would see Spot begin to acquire more normal proportions.

  “In fairness,” Timmy pointed out. “Not all dragons are good.” Spot glared, but he continued. “A lot of them are famous for burning cities, eating random villagers, stealing heaps of stuff, and that sort of thing.” He nodded at Spot. “That doesn’t mean you’re bad, but dragons do have a reputation. It’s like necromancers. Enough of us are evil that it’s hard to blame people for making assumptions.” He grinned. “And you were covered in blood, gore, and ash when you found the princess.”

  “She should learn to think things through,” Avraniel said. She took a bite out of her chicken sandwich and then reached for some pepper. “They needed you alive and unharmed, princess, because they wanted your father to work with them. The second you ended up dead or seriously wounded, your father was going to call up his fleet, sail over here, and burn everything to the ground. Even torturing you would be risky since you’re young, and there’s always a chance something could go wrong.” She bared her teeth. “And Spot isn’t some random dragon. He’s my dragon. I raised him. He’s not going to eat anyone unless they deserve it.” She laughed. “And only an idiot would use a dragon for torture. They might play with their food from time to time, but they always end up eating it.”

 

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