I nodded. “I befriended Candace. Do you see this eye?”
I pointed to my hazel eye.
“It’s hers. We share a soul-bond.”
I saw a flicker of recognition. “A Necro-Optic Connection…”
I nodded. It was more complicated than that for me. My status as the Vessel had accepted far more than just Candace’s shared sight.
“Candace was the Necrolord. She did everything you know her for. But I didn’t kill her. I spared her, because she changed. She recognised the darkness inside her, and the madness, and she fought it. With my help, she embraced the light. And I helped her, because I saw good in her. And perhaps, there’s good in you?”
My death stare stopped, and I stared at him, almost pleadingly.
For all he had done, he could be another victim. Another thrall of the darkness. For all he had done…I had to remember Candace. That there was good in her. That there could be good in him. That everyone deserved a shot at redemption.
He stared back at me, and then turned back to his drink.
“An entertaining tale,” he answered, unamused.
“It’s the truth. And you could have goodness inside of you. You cannot let the voices control you. The madness can go. The darkness can go. You can be your own man.”
He looked at me like I was mad.
“What voices? What madness? I am my own man. Do you fancy me a servant to some sentient arcane phenomenon? Bah! I am no servant of darkness. The darkness serves me!”
I stared into his eyes. Hard. Piercing. I looked for signs of deceit. For signs of madness. But I found none. He was lucid. Perfectly lucid. And conscience of everything he had ever done. With no regrets.
This man was evil, I realised. Truly evil. Not like Candace, pushed to the darkness by desperation. Not like the Archdemon, who predated evil. And, perhaps, not even misguided towards evil like Jeremy Cox. He was truly evil. Honestly evil.
And there was nothing I could do about it.
My death glare returned, and I leant back, reclining against the bar. In a way, I was calmer now. More assured. My heart had been racing as I had tried to convince him to find the light. But no more. I could do nothing. Nothing but kill him. And that’s something I was quite good at.
But not now. For now, it was still time to chat.
“So, did Candace’s ex-employers offer you help? Or was her betrayal enough to chase them away from her successor?”
I saw his irritation at Candace’s name. He didn’t like it. It made his myth too real. Less divine. But he calmed himself.
“Ah, yes. The Conclave. They’ve been a big help. So much literature. It’s so hard to track down good graffscrip. But they keep the scrolls flowing. And the Children they sent were all I needed to get the gangs in line.”
Children? My eyes widened. I had expected it but had hoped these were just some local gangster vampires hanging on a necromancer’s coattails. But, it seemed that Guy and Themba’s fears were now vindicated. Izingane Zegazi. Children of Blood, right on our doorstep.
My eyes drifted to the vampires, still staring. Hungrily. I stopped looking and let my eyes drift back to the Necro Lord. To his waist, where my wakizashi lay.
“That’s my sword,” I pointed out, matter of factly.
“It’s mine now,” he replied. “A holy artefact that slew my messiah.”
He gritted his teeth, half in amusement and anger at the title.
“One could say it’s like owning the Spear of Longinus but, if you are telling the truth, it is far less valuable. Or, perhaps it doesn’t matter. For even if you did not slay my master, you still drove her into lies and hypocrisy. You stripped her of her power. You killed her…”
His words buzzed with necrotic energy. And rage. It seemed that the prospect of turning Candace good made him angrier than the prospect of killing her. But, as fast as he had become angry, he breathed in and breathed out. He leaned back and stared into the empty glass in his hand, wistfully.
“I met an angel recently,” he said, casually. “And he was as disappointing as you are. I expected a touch of the truly divine. An answer to life’s mysteries. Something more than empty platitudes. But, instead, I found a mere creature. Just a creature with bizarre ideas that didn’t make sense. But a creature made of flesh.”
He smiled, as if reminiscing.
“Flesh…flesh makes sense. It is weak. But I can understand it.”
“And…what happened to this angel?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“I killed him,” he answered. “But only after analysing every strip of flesh. Every drop of blood. I saw the truth in his cadaver. And it was not divine. But it was enlightening all the same. And, I got a welcome gift for my trouble…”
The golem shem.
I knew he had it. And he had killed Bez, the angel, for it. If Ariel was here, I would have hoped that she had enough life in her to slay him for the way he spoke about her colleague. But I wasn’t so sure.
But, what I was sure about was that there was no redemption for this monster in human flesh. He did not see his evil as good. He did not even see it as a necessary evil for a greater good.
He did not recognise the existence of evil.
Ironic, for he was its very definition.
But, through everything he said, I did notice something else. Something familiar. For all his talk against morality, he seemed to have a code. And that was something I could use…
“You’re an impressive necromancer,” I said, sincerely. On an industry level, I had to respect him. He was formidable. “But Candace was far better at honest conflict. It makes me wonder if you could win a fair fight. Not just one where you blow up innocent children with hidden bombs…”
“There is no such thing as a fair fight.”
“Oh, sure. But I mean an honest fight. Not traps. The real Necrolord didn’t have to hide her abominations under statues. She made them charge into Old Town, slaughtering all in their wake. Of course, they could handle it.”
I shook my head. “I’m not sure you could. Your tactics have been…inelegant. Deceitful. Even when Candace was at her darkest, her most powerful, she would have turned her nose up at them.”
So sudden that it seemed to even shock the vampires, the Necro Lord broke his glass in his hand. He smacked the table, and turned towards me, fuming.
“What do you know about a fair fight? About honesty? You made your living slaying the mindless dead. I face you with a real army and you now act like I’m a…a…common liar?”
Nerve – hit.
Bingo.
I shrugged. “I know that Candace faced me head-on. Right till the end. And I fought her champion with honour.”
I stared at the Necro Lord squarely. I could see the pulsating rage, and just a hint of possible shame, in his eyes.
I leaned in, whispering.
“There was more honour in the Marshal’s rotting carcass than there is in your entire empire…Necro Lord.”
I made his title sound like an insult. The same way he had spoken about Riaan being the Chairman.
His face reddened, until he spun, knocking over his bar stool. I could feel the buzz of dark magic about to escape his lips.
“But!” I said, before he could do anything I’d regret. “There’s a way you could change that…”
He froze.
“A pitched battle,” I said. “No more raids. No more terrorism. An honest fight, where we show each other the full extent of our powers. With no more proxies.”
He turned to face me. No more rage. Just, curiosity.
“You would fight me? And risk your life? Even with your petty, selfless ideals, that is ludicrous. Without you, Hope City will be mine.”
“Then you should like my proposal. Even if you don’t care about honour, you may not get the chance to kill me…”
If he let me out of here…
“But here, with both of us on the field, someone will die.”
He sat down, scratching his chin.
“What do you propose?” he finally asked.
“A duel, on neutral ground.”
He shook his head. “We are rulers in our own way. A real contest is between our armies.”
I didn’t want to get the Crusaders involved in this again, but it seemed I didn’t have a choice.
“Fine! Then a pitched battle, outside the city limits where we won’t hurt any innocents.”
He grinned, and I felt my skin crawl.
“Oh, no, no, no! This fight must be honest. Sincere. And it must reflect all that is at stake. You are a queen, Last Light! And I must unseat you…”
Before I could say anything, much less argue, he stood, as if addressing the vampires and me.
“Our battle shall not be on some forgotten, empty field. It will be in the heart of your kingdom. At your throne. It will be there that I unseat you, behead you, and watch your realm burn.”
He smiled, as he looked back at me.
“Challenge accepted, Kat Drummond. When we meet again, it shall be among the burning ruins of your fair city.”
Chapter 24.
Throne
The vampire escorted me back to my bike. Two dead bodies were hanging nearby. Thieves. It seemed that I was a guest. And, for all the darkness of this place, thievery was not tolerated. To be honest, I would have rather lost the bike.
But, that was a fleeting thought. All I could think of now was the thrumming of my heart. The beating of war drums within my soul. And the acid in my stomach.
War was coming. True war. To not just Hope City. To my home.
I had to get back and warn everyone. To get ready.
The final battle approached. And I wasn’t sure we were ready.
It was after midnight. I doubted that there would be many Crusaders awake. Usually, this was prime time for hunting. But the losses at the flesh factory had dampened our spirits. However, enthusiastic or not, we didn’t have a choice anymore.
The last thing the Necro Lord said to me was a time.
Today. After the sun rose and set again. I had until nightfall.
Which meant I had no time to lose.
I sped out of the Necro Lord’s slum empire and, like the wind, tore into Hope City proper. There were a few cars on the road. Late night partiers, night-shifters, or just people out for a drive. All innocents. And I had just brought the darkness directly to them…
I screeched to a halt when I felt sufficiently safe from the prying eyes and clawed hands of the Necro Lord’s minions.
I took out my phone, and hesitated. Treth manifested by my side. He placed his hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him. I remembered the first time I had seen him. Bloodied and young. Fragile. But now, he was getting older. Not that I would ever tell him, but he looked more handsome even. But, most of all, he had the air of a hero. The hero I needed to be.
I opened the Crusader’s comms channel, clicked the big red button, and sent an APB to every Crusader. A war horn that none could ignore.
My message read:
“War has come. Meet at the HQ.”
The number of confirmations of people who had seen the APB and acknowledged it slowly started to rise, and then fly up. It was still climbing as I restarted my bike and continued to the HQ. My throne. The place where the fate of Hope City would be decided.
***
“Tonight,” I announced, after explaining my whereabouts to dozens of tired, yawning and pale faces. “The Necro Lord will be attacking this headquarters. He has committed to a full-frontal attack to finally decide the fate of our city. At his disposal is not only an army of undead the likes of which this city has never seen before, but also necro-golems, fusing flesh and stone together so that our conventional weapons and magics cannot harm them. I am not sure the CDF can stop them. And, I am not sure we can stop them…”
I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. I couldn’t keep doing this. All these speeches. All this posturing. I wanted to be the leader these men and women deserved. But…I couldn’t just lead them into the grave again.
“I do not have the right to send you against such a foe. And, if it were up to me, there would be no more death. No more loss. But that is not the world we live in. There is darkness out there. A real, tangible darkness that is charging towards us. And it will leave no one alive. I am not sure we can win.”
I clenched my fist, and let a tear fall, hitting the floor, before I faced the Crusaders head on.
“But, I will fight. For those we have lost. And for those we will lose. I’m a Crusader. And that means I hold the line. Against darkness, against the relentless dead. Against all who would harm MY city. I cannot ask you to fight and die by my side, but know that if you do, you will not be fighting for just a bounty. The fate of Hope City, the lives of countless people and those of our families, is at stake.”
I swallowed. The room was silent. Just loud enough so the room could hear, I finished off.
“Let all who would rather not fight leave. I do not blame you. And I will die if necessary, to defend you.”
The assorted faces of the Crusaders, wearing a mishmash of armour, civvies and even pyjamas, stared back. Nobody moved. Nobody left.
Except for a silver-haired angel, at the back, who flickered into existence, and then out. Conrad and Ismail noticed. They shook their heads. I hadn’t expected her help anyway.
I gave everyone thirty seconds more. A solemn silence. A silence filled with determination and perseverance.
There was more strength in this quiet conviction than there had been in the war cries of the days before.
This wasn’t rage. This wasn’t hate. This was resolve.
We weren’t hunting monsters anymore. We were defending our people.
I nodded with a pride that I couldn’t put into words, as I restrained further tears.
“Thank you,” I said, simply, and jumped off the desk I had been standing on. The bellows of sergeants and lieutenants filled the halls as soon as my boots hit the floor. Orders to get dressed properly, to check weapons, to sharpen blades and reload ammunition. To batten down the hatches, to reinforce walls. To prepare for war.
I heard voices over the din. Voices that weren’t really there. The quiet, resigned yells and shouts of the people of Ithalen.
They had died doing the right thing.
I looked up, towards my friends. Cindy, Guy, Brett, Trudie, Pranish…and so many more. They looked at me with love and trust in their eyes.
This would be different. This was not a last stand. I willed a fire to form in my heart.
I would make this different.
I looked up at Guy and Themba. Even his cousin had appeared for the APB.
“There were Children among the Necro Lord’s retinue,” I said, simply. I was tired. But I could not sleep. Not yet.
Guy and Themba nodded. No hint of fear. Not even from Themba. They were tired of running.
I turned to Brett. I saw a flicker of something in his eye. He knew I’d left. And he’d let me.
“We’ll fight them,” he said, nodding towards Guy and Themba. “But you will need this.”
He offered my salamander coat. I accepted with a smile and put it on. Its heat infused me, as it flared to life. As if saying hello.
All my exhaustion vanished with the coat. I was ready. And now, it was time to get to work.
***
Jane stood by my side, fidgeting with her business dress, as I held my phone to my head. She was seldom this openly nervous. But, considering the situation, I couldn’t blame her.
The phone kept ringing. Ringing. More ringing. Of course, it would take a while. It was 4am! The Crusaders had been up for hours now, preparing. Some had been allowed to go to sleep in the new barracks. I was planning on getting some shut eye while I could. But this couldn’t wait.
Finally, the ringing stopped, and a tired voice answered.
“Drummond…why are you calling?” Riaan asked, not hiding his irritation and exhaustion.
“The
Necro Lord is attacking the Crusaders HQ. Tonight.”
“What?” That woke him up. “How do you know this? What have you been doing?!”
I ignored the accusation.
“He plans to march his army through Hope City towards the Crusader HQ. I fear that CDF and the police will not be able to stop him en route. Our best bet is to evacuate all those in his way, and then mount a united defence here in Observatory. By the HQ…”
“Drummond…” his voice was cold, stopping me short.
I paused.
“You invited him, didn’t you?” he asked, his words dripping with cold resentment.
“He told me his plans. An invitation would not really be needed. He has an army that outmatches the Crusaders alone. We need help. CDF won’t be able to stop him by themselves, but if you come and help us…”
“No, Drummond!” he yelled, cold turning to hot rage. “No more playing hero. No more acting like you’re this city’s warrior-queen! You are not Hope City’s sole protector. Far from it! You have brought doom to my city. I will not aid you. I will stop him from entering my city. I will show the world that we don’t need petty hunters to do the government’s job! And you won’t see a single stitch of help from the Council. As far as I am concerned, you are a rogue, and I will dedicate my life to stopping you.”
He hung up.
“So…” Jane asked, nervously.
“He didn’t take it too well.”
Jane clicked her tongue, irritably.
I rubbed my temples. This was the last thing I needed. I wasn’t expecting HCPD or CDF help. Far from it. Why would they sacrifice themselves for me? But, I had hoped Riaan would see reason. Trying to block the undead advance would be suicide. They needed to evacuate his planned route and provide no resistance. That was what I wanted.
But now he had condemned his men to death. And worse, the lives of all the civilians in the way.
I sighed.
“Jane, see if you can get the message out. We need the border-slums and the major roads between here and the slums evacuated.”
She saluted. “Yes, Commander!”
It wasn’t what I wanted. But if Jane couldn’t salvage a situation as bad as this, nobody could.
Cursed Earth (Kat Drummond Book 12) Page 20
