Lich for Hire

On the other side of the ocean, Ariel commanded the Ragetide fleet in loose pursuit of the Lyon vessel.

The Ragetide Kingdom and Lyon were mortal enemies. Watching your sworn enemy sail past in the open ocean without doing anything about it wasn't really an option, regardless of the strategic calculus.

So Ariel had taken personal command and rounded up a collection of pirate ships to serve as cannon fodder.

Since the Silent Sea Pirate Company's treaty with Ragetide, the undead pirates had stopped hunting Ragetide vessels, but Aige wasn't in the habit of distinguishing between official warships and private vessels. As far as she was concerned, if it looked like a human ship, it wasn't a target.

Certain opportunists quickly filled the gap in piracy, some of which were former Ragetide subjects who were now operating independently. All of them were preying on merchant ships from the continent.

Ariel normally ignored these pirates entirely. They knew better than to touch the Ragetide Kingdom's own ships, and what they did to outsiders was their own business.

Today, though, she needed them. She had gathered every available pirate vessel and pressed them into service to harass the Lyon warship.

The results were better than expected. Lyon had legends abound, but virtually no experience with naval combat. The pirates darted in, fired a round or two, and were back out of range before Lyon could organize a response, keeping the Lyon soldiers in a permanent state of taut, exhausted alertness.

Lyon tried to go on the offensive and managed to run down two of the slower pirate vessels, a reasonable showing. But just as General Cyril Roland thought to continue the pursuit, he was struck by lightning.

The sky had been clear; then, it wasn't. Thick clouds had gathered while no one was paying attention. When Roland repeated his previous maneuver, lightning came down and struck him cleanly.

It didn't do enough damage for serious harm, but he was briefly paralyzed and fell into the ocean.

By the time Roland climbed back on deck, he had made the decision to abandon the pirates, break out of the encirclement, and run.

It was the correct call. Moments after he returned to the ship, massive waves began rolling in. Walls of water stacking up and slammed down.

This was the first storm at sea the Lyon soldiers had encountered, and it was coming at the vessel from every direction.

They threw up their shields. The waves struck the hull and shook it badly, but didn't sink the ship. The impact pushed the ship a considerable distance from where it had been.

Roland took advantage of the momentum. "Full speed ahead!"

Lyon soldiers were quick learners when they needed to be. Over the past few days, they had worked out a novel solution to the problem of their ship's poor sailing performance: casting Featherfall across the entire vessel, reducing its effective weight to almost nothing, then letting the wind push it forward like a leaf.

This was considerably faster than conventional sail propulsion. The only drawback was that every spellcaster aboard was occupied by maintaining the effect, leaving them nothing in reserve for combat magic.

As an escape method, it was highly effective. The pirate ships fell behind and disappeared from view.

As the Lyon vessel finally vanished past the horizon, Ariel smiled.

"Those panicking landlubbers..." She shook her head. "They ran straight for the Sea of Storms, just like that."

The plan had only ever been to maneuver Lyon into the Sea of Storms and let the environment do the rest. She hadn't expected it to be this easy.

At sea, the Ragetide Kingdom could handle Lyon without breaking a sweat. The frustrating part was that her own strength had a ceiling. If she had even one more legendary-rank fighter to work with, she would have attacked directly rather than herding them. But other than the old king, there was no one in Ragetide who could operate at that level alongside her in open water.

She ordered, "Keep after them! Don't give them the chance to rest. Ensure that there's always someone at their backs, so they have no time to think nor organize."

The Ragetide fleet advanced steadily.

At this pace, the Lyon ship would enter the Sea of Storms within a day. The deep-sea creatures that lived there would do the rest.

As the surface churned, so too did the depths of the sea.

Ambrose was once again aboard Aige, reunited with the members of the Elegiac Society.

Gareth, Aige, Alabastra, Black Rose—and, unexpectedly, a face he hadn't seen in some time: Heki Stone, the dwarven vampire.

Ambrose looked at the small figure, somewhat mystified. "Didn't you say you were in seclusion writing a book? Why are you at sea?"

Heki Stone was immediately incensed. "Because you sent for me! I got a message saying you were going to pay me the royalties you owe me, so I came."

Ambrose paused. He had said no such thing.

Then it clicked: the dice of fate had taken action.

He had broadcast his location to all his enemies, stating that he would remain on that island for an entire month.

The dice of fate ensured that the message would be delivered to each recipient in a way tailored to reach them, with the time and location guaranteed to be accurate. But the nature of the delivery, and every other detail besides, was subject to creative distortion.

Heki Stone apparently had a grievance with Ambrose, which was fair, given that Ambrose had appropriated the dwarf's research and used it for his own benefit, while costing him a substantial sum in the process.

The message had, naturally, reached him in a form that promised compensation. He had come without stopping to question whether Ambrose would ever voluntarily pay anyone anything.

Ambrose looked at him with mild sympathy. "You've known me long enough. Do you genuinely think I would give you money unprompted?"

Heki Stone frowned. That was a fair point. Even if the world were ending, the lich wouldn't reach into his own pockets.

He had suspected the message might be unreliable, but the specificity of the location made it worth checking.

"Fine." He shook his head with disgust. "Forget the gold. I already finished my book, anyway. I'll consider it a seaside holiday."

He reached into his pack and produced a freshly bound volume, which he distributed to each member of the Elegiac Society with the air of someone presenting a masterwork.

"The revised Chronicle of the Dragon War. Once this is published, I will be the foremost historian alive, without contest."

Then he watched Ambrose pick up a pen and add his own name as author.

"What are you doing?!" Heki Stone's voice rose immediately.

"Let me be second author," Ambrose said. "I want to be in the historical record."

Heki Stone roared, "Scram! I've had it with you!"

His bat wings spread out behind him as he launched himself at Ambrose.

He made it halfway before Ambrose produced two small bottles and placed them in his hands.

Heki Stone stopped. He looked at what he was holding.

Blood—but not any blood he recognized. The color and magical properties were abnormal. He had never encountered anything like it.

He uncorked one and inhaled. "Dragon blood!"

Ambrose smiled. "One bottle of astral red dragon blood, and one bottle of githark blood. I specifically selected the githark female I thought most likely a virgin. It's a worthy gift for a friend, I think."

Heki Stone took a small, careful sip, then sighed in content.

Both were flavors he had never encountered. Dragon blood, githark blood—whatever else could be said about Ambrose, the man understood what a vampire actually valued.

Heki Stone pocketed the bottles with studied nonchalance and critiqued, "Adequate, I suppose. Not in the same class as elven blood."

"You're going to brag about drinking elven blood in front of me, knowing I'm on excellent terms with Queen Catherine?"

Heki Stone snapped his mouth shut.

Ambrose produced more bottles. "So, about being second author..."

Heki Stone stared at the bottles. His jaw worked. "Third author," he said finally. "That's my final offer."

"Third author? Who else is involved? Without the information I provided, there wouldn't be a book to write."

Ambrose's indignation was genuine. He had supplied half the source material for Heki's work.

"The second author slot is reserved for myself," Heki Stone said. "Don't think I don't know about your pseudonyms: Elden Lord, and Arthas, and Sephiroth, and Sargras—I've lost count of how many you've used. I want to give one of my own pen names some recognition. Third author. Take it or leave it."

Everyone in the Elegiac Society turned to look at Ambrose. Pseudonyms weren't unusual, but they had all heard those names before in different contexts, and were now quietly wondering just how much this lich had done while operating under assumed identities.

Ambrose threw the remaining bottles at Heki Stone in frustration. The dwarven vampire had an uncanny instinct for striking him where it hurt. If not for all his pseudonyms, he'd be the god of alchemy by now.

"Where did you dig up all those names?" Ambrose asked.

Heki Stone caught the bottles with practiced ease and explained: "After the Unholy Kingdom was banished, the whole world started hunting for diviners. You and your student were already too well known to be bothered, but other diviners had a harder time of it. One of them tracked me down and asked me to pass on a message. They want to meet you."

"There are other diviners?" Ambrose said, genuinely surprised. "How did one of them find you?"

"Well, once they run out of direct leads, they have to find someone connected to you and work through them."

That logic was sound. Heki Stone's visit wasn't purely about royalties and bragging rights—delivering the message was part of it, along with the obvious desire to celebrate finishing a major work and take an extended vacation at sea.

The diviner matter was worth following up on, but Ambrose had too much in motion right now. He scheduled a time with Heki Stone and turned to Gareth.

"What happened with the dragons? Did you get Sephris back?"

Gareth smiled. "More or less. He had a rough time, but he's fine. As for the living dragons, I'm speaking for them from here on. Whatever you want to do, just do it."

Ambrose looked at Alabastra, surprised. When had Gareth, the kept husband, been granted the authority to make such unilateral decisions?

He had expected her to push back. Instead, Alabastra nodded. "Indeed. Those living dragons don't deserve our consideration. Anyone who objects will hear from me directly."

The coldness in her voice was distinctive. Ambrose asked, "Did they help the githarks ambush your father?"

Alabastra shook her head. "They didn't. They did nothing, which is betrayal in its own right. We are bone dragons. We should never have counted living dragons among our own."

Ambrose nodded. The living and the undead were different. Mixing the two categories had never served anyone well.

The dragon problem was resolved, then. Once this current performance concluded, he could focus fully on helping Aige build her following.

He had finished preparing his trap for Lyon. All that remained was for them to walk into it.

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