Defiant Necromancer (Book 2 stubbed)

“Well, you can teleport within our wards,” King Colin said after a moment. “As long as you don’t try to move through them with teleportation. Why don’t you go to the edge of the island, and I’ll use my blood magic to move you out of the warded territory so you can send your message quickly? Then we can get back to this important topic.”

I thought that might be what he was using, Dero thought. Vampire. Blood magic. Of course.

“I’ll teleport you over there,” the dark elf said, smiling at Tybalt.

He gave her a look that said he was still a little annoyed about earlier, then nodded.

“Just move him out of the warded territory, all right?” Dero added, looking at Colin. “He’s the one bonded to the undead, not me. I don’t want to find myself floating thousands of feet in the air when I don’t need to be.”

“I’ll raise my hand when I’m ready to be moved back into your territory, King Colin,” Tybalt said.

“You don’t need to be too formal anymore, Tybalt,” Colin said pleasantly. “It feels like almost a foregone conclusion that we’ll be in-laws soon enough at this point.”

Dero felt the urge to roll her eyes at the High Elf King with his sense of inevitability. Instead, she grabbed her fiance’s shoulder, concentrated for a moment, and then they were gone.

An instant later, they were looking over the edge of the high elves’ great floating island.

“You and I still need to talk about what happened earlier,” the necromancer said. “The sudden public oath of fealty was a little bit much, even for you.”

“Later, sure!” Dero said. “We’ll talk later! Don’t you need to be going?”

Tybalt gave her that slightly stern look again, and Dero realized with a start that it reminded her a little of her father, though Tybalt was unfathomably younger than her father had been when she was born. Then the necromancer turned to face the edge.

“What, do I just step over and trust that he’ll—”

A force jerked him off his feet and took him over the edge.

Dero couldn’t help but widen her eyes as she saw her fiance lifted into the sky.

I’m glad I specified that I didn’t need to join Tybalt for this. Not that I’m afraid of heights, but I also don’t need to risk His High Elfness slipping and dropping me. Don’t worry, Tybalt. If Colin drops you, I promise our child will avenge you one day!

The shape of the necromancer rapidly grew smaller as he was moved further and further away. Finally, Tybalt vanished behind some clouds. Then Dero didn’t see him again.

For what felt like a long time.

Shouldn’t he… come out the other side?

She noticed a small, unexpectedly uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Must be a little morning sickness, she thought, deliberately choosing not to focus on the fact that her tattoo ought to suppress such symptoms.

The dark elf just stood and stared after her lover. There was an unexpectedly helpless feeling.

Dero stood there waiting for around fifteen minutes. Too long.

It reached a point where she started to feel genuinely nervous. She didn’t like having no way of sensing where Tybalt was, no way of reaching him, when they were so far up that a slip from the one holding him could be fatal.

It would be really shitty if he knocked me up and immediately died. There’s no way Colin dropped him, right? No, he wouldn’t do that, then his daughter would lose a fiance instead of possibly gaining a foothold for the high elves in Niet… Stop worrying. If he fell, he’d Teleport himself back up anyway… although I don’t know if Tybalt’s skill at teleportation is good enough for that. Did he ever actually get the Teleport skill? I don’t remember now. And if he was dropped from near the edge of the wards, he could accidentally Teleport across them and get dismembered.

She wrinkled her nose as the image of the necromancer in bloody pieces forced itself to the forefront of her mind.

She didn’t like worrying about someone.

Then she saw movement through the clouds.

Fucking finally, he’s coming back. The dark elf squinted. Wait. That’s not him!

***

Tybalt floated through the air, like an angel or a god, moving without any visible means of propulsion.

It lasted much longer than he imagined it would, so he allowed his mind to wander a bit.

I wonder if I could use Bone Puppetry to fly under my own power. Given that some sort of blood manipulating skill is what Colin’s using to maneuver me, it feels like something I should be able to do if I try. Then again, maybe you need a place to stand for leverage.

Either way, he didn’t attempt it now. He was far too high up to mess around and perhaps risk breaking the High Elf King’s hold on him.

I wonder if there’s a range limitation or if it’s just slightly harder with every bit further away he extends his reach.

He sensed it as a sudden roar of sound when he was across the wards, though Colin did not immediately start pushing him outwards. Apparently the High Elf King did not know the precise place where his wards’ outer boundary lay.

From Tybalt’s perspective, it was as if a lever had flipped, and he was suddenly in touch with the whole world again.

“Master, we are engaged in battle with the Hero and his companion, a dragon,” Beastking Rickert reported instantly. “Lady Kistana is with us, fighting—

Three other Beastkings chimed with similar warnings, cutting Rickert off, as they all felt their master’s presence become available once more.

“What the fuck happened?” he immediately shot back.

Then he stopped them before they could reply.

“Disregard. We don’t have time for questions.”

He needed to get there now. He wasn’t confident that the Hero and a dragon together could be defeated without heavy losses, especially since the lamia had said something along those lines in her spirit-induced trance.

I need Dero, he thought immediately, a plan coming together in his head. Shit, no, I don’t have time to go back and get her. Since the stupid elves warded themselves against teleportation and telepathy, I would have to spend the same amount of time getting back up there as it took me to get all the way down here. The Hero and his dragon’s last appearance and disappearance were so sudden,so I might not have the chance to get them if I go back for her. And the others could be in danger. Kistana never runs from a fight. Fuck. Every second counts.

He made a snap decision and pushed mana into his Undead Storage seal.

The vampire knight Esmerelda instantly appeared and then clung to him.

“What the fuck, master?” she hissed. “Why did you summon me in midair like this?”

“The fall probably wouldn’t even kill you,” he said brusquely. “I have to go, and I need you to deliver a message to Dero for me.”

Tybalt felt it as some of the weight on him relaxed.

Thank the gods, Colin grasped her by whatever blood she still has inside her body, too. One less thing to worry about.

The necromancer quickly conveyed his message.

Then he released Esmerelda, focused on the outskirts of Whadesgart, and teleported away.

***

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Dero snapped at the vampire.

“It wasn’t my choice, bitch,” Esmerelda replied, looking daggers at Dero as she floated closer to the land mass. “I go where the necromancer tells me to!”

“That doesn’t actually answer my question!” the dark elf half-yelled. “What happened to Tybalt? Why are you here in his place?”

“I actually do have an answer to that,” the vampire knight said. “A message from the master.” She cleared her throat and drew herself up to enunciate everything properly, then rolled her shoulders as if she’d gotten stiff from being in Undead Storage for too long. Dero could feel the deliberate slow walking as sharply as if Esmerelda was sticking pins in her arms. “King Tybalt said, ‘Dero, I have to go back to Whadesgart. For now, though, I give you permission to negotiate the severance of the relationship between the dark elves and King Colin as one of the terms of an engagement agreement, along with the provision of troops. You will know better than I do what we can get from Colin. Don’t disappoint me.’”

“What the fuck does that even mean?!” Dero demanded. “Why did he have to go back? You left out the most important part!”

“He was in kind of a rush,” Esmerleda said, shrugging. “The master sadly does not tell me everything. But he did mention something about the catgirl being in trouble.”

***

Tybalt reappeared just outside the walls.

“Who goes—”

“Open the fucking gates!” Tybalt shouted up at the guardsmen. “You know who I am. Open them right now or I’ll tear the walls down.”

The gates swung open.

“My apologies, my lord—”

Tybalt swept past the town’s meager security and broke into a run. He could sense where his undead were gathered, and he ran past injured civilians and ruined buildings, his heart racing, as he shot toward the location where the fighting was - or had been? - taking place.

Suddenly he couldn’t feel any violence against his undead. There were some destroyed, he knew, including at least one mummy, but the fighting seemed to be over or at least at a lull. He couldn’t sense his creatures striking anything or even trying to attack anything.

What the fuck is going on?

Before he could decide to try and inhabit some of his undead to get additional eyes on the situation, he rounded a corner and saw it.

His heart seemed to stop.

No.

She was surrounded by friends and creatures of his undead army, but somehow Kistana, the woman he’d most recently decided to share his life with, looked like she’d been beaten to near death. Her ribs on one side appeared caved in. There was blood all around her nose and mouth. Her eyes were closed, so he could only assume she’d lost consciousness.

He couldn’t tell, at a glance, if she would be able to recover. A dull ache spread through his stomach, but he made himself keep moving closer. If she was still alive, he could save her.

“I’ll bring the monks from your tribe, Kistana,” Mariella said from near the catgirl.

Tybalt saw Kistana’s eyelids flutter, and suddenly he was able to breathe normally again. It didn’t seem like she was dying, at least.

He took another step closer, and a hand clasped around his arm.

“Master, the monks are here for her.”

It was former Beastking Rickert, flanked by a trio of catfolk.

Right, Kistana got them to take some healing skills… much better than mine, since my flesh and bone manipulation stuff isn’t actually meant specifically for healing. It’s for making horrors beyond human imagination.

“Go, then,” Tybalt hissed, gesturing for the monks to help Kistana.

They bowed quickly and then darted over to her.

The necromancer turned to Rickert.

“Who did this?” the necromancer asked.

The mummy looked at him, and there was a hint of confusion in his body language, so Tybalt elaborated.

“The Hero or the dragon? Who hurt Kistana?”

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