Dirge for a Necromancer (17 page)

“Forget about it,” mumbled Raettonus uncomfortably. “Consider it a thank you for bringing Master Slade back to life for me.” He tugged the leather tie out of his hair. Pushing back his long, blond locks to tie them again into a ponytail, he added, “What were those bite marks from? They were the strangest wounds I’ve ever seen.”

“I was bitten by Cykkus’ abassy in Hell,” Kimohr Raulinn said. “The abassy are his personal army—an army of great warriors whose souls Cykkus has specifically collected. They’ve got teeth made of iron, and for a mortal their poisonous bite would mean death within a few short hours. He set them on me in hopes of running me off, but it didn’t work. They bit me and shot their arrows, but I still managed to break down Hell’s gates.” He smiled widely. “I busted the afterlife wide open, Raettonus. There’s nothing keeping the dead in anymore. If they’ve got bodies to go back to, they can.”

Chapter Twelve

Raettonus spent what remained of the day with Kimohr Raulinn, mostly soaking in his bathhouse. The god didn’t have the energy to access his domain and send Raettonus back to Kaebha, and since Raettonus could barely stand without feeling faint, he couldn’t lend him any emotional turmoil.

“It’s fine,” said Kimohr Raulinn with a sigh. “I should get enough magical energy, eventually.”

“How eventually?” asked Raettonus as he floated in the warm water of the bathing pool.

Kimohr Raulinn shrugged as he stripped off his robe and slipped in to join the magician. “Who can say?”

“I get the feeling that you could probably say, if you were so inclined.”

But Kimohr Raulinn only grinned and splashed Raettonus playfully.

* * *

It was a restful, pleasant afternoon. When Raettonus wasn’t napping or bathing, Kimohr Raulinn took him through the temple and showed him the rooms upon rooms full of exquisite art and riches. There was a room as large as the throne room where Kimohr Raulinn stored piles of gold, silver, bronze, and amber. There were suits of gilded armor within the room, painted vases the size of men, serving plates made of platinum, and jade statues of lions and dragons and centaurs. There were drums with heads of unicorn skin, chess sets made of mahogany and bone, pewter cups adorned with ivory and jewels, robes of silk and fur, and a thousand other things that were extravagant beyond all need, but beautiful all the same.

“I love mortals a lot,” Kimohr Raulinn said as he and Raettonus made their way through the treasury past the glimmering piles of trinkets and trophies. “But I love their gifts even more.”

“What do you even need with any of this?” asked Raettonus.

Kimohr Raulinn raised his palms upwards and said, “Why, there’s a need for everything, Magician. I might not know what I’ll need any given item for right now, but some day its use will make itself apparent.”

Raettonus spotted a rapier lying in a pile of treasures atop a fur cloak and a meticulously painted marionette. He picked it up gingerly, admiring the careful engraving on the wonderfully elaborate cross guard. The weight of it was good in his hand. “Can I have this?” he asked Kimohr Raulinn.

“Well, now, I remember asking you a very similar question about a certain book,” said Kimohr Raulinn, tapping his fingers against the chin of his mask. “You told me ‘no.’ I was heartbroken.”

“I wasn’t in a good mood at that moment.”

“You should’ve been though. I mean, surely it wasn’t all that bad? I won’t hold it against you though, because when are you ever in a good mood, Magician?” asked Kimohr Raulinn with a glint in his eyes. “But, yes—certainly you can have it. I haven’t got a use for it. I prefer to love rather than kill.”

“Yeah, I know you do,” said Raettonus, sliding the rapier into his belt.

Kimohr Raulinn’s ears twitched and he closed his eyes. “Speaking of killing,” he said slowly. “Someone’s just made a sacrifice to me. Mm… It’s nice, feeling the strength flow into me all at once like that.” He took a deep breath and opened his eyes halfway. “I could send you back to Kaebha now, if you’d like.”

“I think that’d be best,” said Raettonus.

Kimohr Raulinn placed one hand on Raettonus’ shoulder and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you again for your help,” he said. “And I want you to know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t mention it,” Raettonus told him. “This hasn’t been all that much trouble.”

“Oh, I’m not apologizing for this,” said Kimohr Raulinn with an amused smile.

Raettonus furrowed his brow. “Then what are you apologizing for?”

“That’ll become apparent. Just give it a little time,” said Kimohr Raulinn. His eyes glowed softly in the dying daylight filtering through the windows. “Take care of yourself, Raettonus.”

Within the time it took for Raettonus to blink, he found himself in his chambers in the Kaebha Citadel, all alone. With a heavy sigh, he threw himself upon the bed. He was still so tired from the healing. Lazily, Raettonus lifted his hand up over his head, toward the ceiling. A few small flames danced across his knuckles at his will, but fire came naturally to him, and he doubted that he’d be able to perform any magic beyond that for at least a week.

It took a lot of effort, but he managed to pull himself up from the bed to go in search of Sir Slade. It only just occurred to him as he headed out the door that he’d been gone nearly an entire day, and that Sir Slade couldn’t communicate with anyone in the citadel. When Raettonus opened the door to Slade’s room, however, he found it vacant. Frowning, he closed the door carefully and began aimlessly down the hall, wondering where Slade might’ve gone.

He came upon a soldier on patrol and asked after Slade. The soldier took a minute to think about it before telling him that he’d seen Slade in the company of Maeleht, but didn’t know where they’d gone. Raettonus thanked him curtly and began away.

Almost immediately after that, Raettonus met Brecan coming down a hallway with Sir Rhodes in tow. Raettonus looked at the walking corpse, all covered in rot, half the flesh torn from his skull. Rhodes stared back at him with one cloudy eye and one sad, mud-colored eye. Distastefully, Raettonus said, “Why’d you bring Rhodes?”

“He wanted to come when he heard Sir Slade was here,” said Brecan.

Raettonus grabbed Brecan by the horn, causing the unicorn to yelp. “You shouldn’t have told him,” said Raettonus, jerking his head around. “Rhodes goes back to Ti Tunfa. Right now.”

“Ow! I’m sorry, Raet,” said Brecan as Raettonus released him. “But—but I can’t take him back to Ti Tunfa. Not right now, anyway. There’s a big war going on. I almost didn’t make it out of Ti Tunfa to begin with.”

Raettonus scowled and grunted. “Fine,” he said. “Fine, Rhodes can stay—but I don’t want to see you anywhere near Master Slade, do you understand me?”

Rhodes nodded. “Yesh, Mashter,” he said, his words slurred by his half-decayed tongue.

“Good,” Raettonus said, turning back toward Brecan. “Master Slade’s room is the one right beside mine. Go put his things in there.”

“You’ve got it, Raet,” said Brecan, swishing his long, barbed tail. “Can Rhodes help?”

Raettonus sighed. “Were you not just listening when I told him to stay away from Master Slade?” he asked. “What makes you think that means he should be in Master Slade’s room?”

“Oh. I guess I didn’t think,” said Brecan. “Oh, but, Raet—I’m gonna need someone to help unpack things. I don’t have hands…”

Sighing again, Raettonus said. “Well, fine, then. Master Slade’s not in there right now, anyway, I guess,” he said. “He can go help you. Be quick about it though—I don’t know when he might get back.”

“Okay,” said Brecan, trotting down the hall. “Come on, Rhodes.”

Sullenly, the walking corpse that was once Sir Rhodes the Blue and Gray followed after the unicorn. He moved sluggishly, dragging one leg behind the other and teetering from side to side with every slow step. Raettonus watched the pair until they’d disappeared around a corner before continuing his search.

He found Slade, as he suspected he would, in the citadel’s courtyard. In a grassy corner of the yard, Slade sat with Dohrleht and Maeleht, showing them some hydromancy. Raettonus approached quietly, watching as Slade shaped some water into a little dragon for them and animated its wings with two fingers. Maeleht was the first one to spot Raettonus, and he exclaimed, “Raettonus! We were worried about you!”

“Why’s that?” asked Raettonus as he drew close.

“Well no one knew where you’d gone,” Dohrleht said. “You never showed up for our lesson today.”

“I checked inside your room this morning, and you weren’t there,” said Slade. “I found your students looking for you and decided to show them some magic. They speak wonderful English, by the way. You taught them very well.”

“Thank you, Master,” said Raettonus. He looked up at the darkening sky beyond the metal spikes that enclosed the top of the citadel. “I’d like to show you something.”

“Certainly,” said Slade, standing. He turned to the young centaurs. “You two should go practice. It was very nice meeting the both of you.”

Raettonus led Slade across the shaded courtyard, through a doorway, and back into the citadel. “Your students are very bright boys,” said Slade as they walked. “The younger one told me you showed him how to magically sculpt stone.”

Raettonus nodded. “His father died just recently,” he said. “I was trying to take his mind off it.”

As they made their way through the winding, twisted hallways, they came upon a group of soldiers jostling each other at the arrow slits to get a better view outside. “Wonder what they’re looking at,” Slade said, pausing.

Raettonus shrugged and tapped the nearest soldier on the flank. “What’s going on?” he asked.

The soldier—a Zylekkhan by his lack of an accent—replied, “The general killed a cliff dragon. They’re trying to carry it in, but it’s too big to fit through the doors.”

After Raettonus relayed the message to Sir Slade, the dark-haired man clapped his hands together excitedly. “I want to see,” he said. “Can we go down and look at it?”

“If you want,” said Raettonus as they changed direction and headed the opposite way down the hall.

When they reached the front gate, they found Diahsis on the back of a ruffled-looking gryphon, directing the movement of a five-ton dragon lying sprawled across the road to the citadel. The dragon’s tongue lolled limply out of its open mouth between its fangs, and blood oozed lethargically out of holes in its throat and belly. Twenty soldiers were gathered around it, holding ropes which had been tied to different parts of it. Cradling his head in his arms, Deggho dek’Kariss stood off to one side, watching.

“You’re not going to fit that through there,” Diahsis’ gryphon mount was saying as Raettonus and Slade came up. “You’re going to need to cut it into pieces.”

“Nonsense,” said Diahsis dismissively. “It’ll fit. We just need to turn it.”

“Turn it what way? It’s not going to fit,” said the gryphon, flattening his feathered ears. He clacked his sharp beak closed violently. “Just cut it up. It’s easiest.”

Diahsis saw Raettonus and Slade and turned to wave at them. “Magician! Other man!” he said cheerily. “We killed a dragon!”

“I see that,” said Raettonus.

“Deggho helped,” said Diahsis, motioning at the goblin. “I’m a little sorry I beheaded him, now. He’s really quite good company. He wrangled a gryphon for me to ride.”

“Hi,” said the gryphon as Slade studied him curiously. “I’m Vuriin.”

Raettonus looked at the massive corpse of the dragon. “There’s no way you’re going to get that through the citadel doors. Not in one piece.”

“Thank you,” said Vuriin. “I’ve been saying that exact same thing, but he won’t listen.” He twisted his head around to look at Diahsis. “You could still keep the head as a trophy if you cut it off. If you want to use the dragon leather, it’s not like cutting it into smaller pieces is going to make it any less usable, the size this thing is. You’re going to have to cut it into smaller pieces, anyway.”

“Fine, fine,” sighed the general, resting his hands on his thighs. “It’ll just be such a shame to take apart such a lovely beast. Fine, though.” He called out to the soldiers milling about. “Cut it down. Make sure you keep the head intact.” Quickly, the soldiers went about carrying out their order as Diahsis turned back toward Raettonus. “You should’ve come with us, Magician! It was a wonderful hunt. Deggho helped me catch a gryphon, and we didn’t have any injuries at all when we took down the dragon. I’m sorry to say that I didn’t land the finishing blow, however—that was Daeblau.” He looked around. “He was out here a minute ago, but he must’ve gone inside. Probably he wanted to tell his little squeeze about it all. He was quite impressive, actually. I’d be boasting too, in his place.”

“Fascinating,” Raettonus said dryly. “May we borrow Deggho for a bit?”

“Go right ahead,” said Diahsis. “Maybe after you’re done with him, you could sew his head back on? It’s been inconveniencing him all day, having to carry it.”

“We’ll see,” said Raettonus, leading Slade away by the hand toward Deggho.

Deggho turned his head toward Raettonus and Slade, smiling an uncertain smile. “See, Magician?” he said as they got close. “I told you that the Tahlehsons would be interested in my ability to hunt dragons.”

Slade looked at Deggho with wide, curious eyes before taking a step toward him and reaching out one hand. The goblin flinched away. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” said Slade breathlessly. “It’s like he’s alive.”

“What is he doing?” asked Deggho, anxiety evident, as Slade grabbed his shoulder gingerly.

“Examining you,” Raettonus said. “Don’t worry, it shouldn’t take long.”

Deggho furrowed his brow and frowned deeply. “I don’t want to be examined,” he muttered.

“That’s too bad,” said Raettonus. “It’s happening anyway.”

Deggho sighed, but gave himself over to Slade for examination. They went inside to get out of the way of the soldiers who were scrambling about arranging where to cut the dragon and how to go about it.

They made their way to an empty room, and Slade began looking Deggho over and asking him questions while Raettonus translated for him. Finally, Slade finished and turned to Raettonus. “He’s like me,” he said. “He’s died, but he’s been perfectly restored to life.”

“Except for the decapitation,” agreed Raettonus with a nod. “I wonder though… Why don’t his eyes glow like yours do?”

Slade didn’t have an answer for that.

“You should’ve gone dragon hunting with us, Raettonus,” said Deggho after Slade was done studying him. “It was fun. General Diahsis is a lot friendlier than you’d think.”

“I’m sure,” said Raettonus dryly.

“We’re going to hunt faeries tomorrow,” said the goblin, shifting his decapitated head around in his hands until he found a comfortable way to hold it. “You should come with us.”

“I’ll pass.”

Deggho frowned. “Oh, I see,” he said, sounding slightly wounded. “Well—how about you come join us for dinner? Diahsis is going to have that dragon cooked and have a big feast in the grand dining hall—you know, that one on the floor where they used to keep me. He’s having it all cleaned up and everything. Will you join us?”