They move away from the abandoned house—more of a shack than a house—where the two men remain. Adar walks in front, with her and Saca in the middle, and Nero bringing up the rear.
Adar leads them toward the city gates they normally use on the way back to their new home. When they met outside the shack earlier, he had asked Nero what they would do now, and the answer had been a single word:
“Home.”
Which makes sense, since the day is ending, and traveling in the middle of the night would be dangerous. Even leaving now, they will probably have to walk the last part of the journey in the dark. Not to mention that by then the city gates would already be closed.
The guards, who recognize them somewhat by now, even ask if they would prefer to spend the night at one of the inns in town. But they reassure them that they are used to the road and will be quick.
In truth, the night doesn’t worry them that much, since both Adar and Nero can easily illuminate the path with magic. And besides, they are unlikely to encounter anything more dangerous than the necromancer himself. Something the two assassins still trapped in the city could surely confirm.
Only after they pass through the gate and leave the city does she dare question, Nero.
“Do you think that was the best decision?”
Turning back to look at him, with the sun setting behind him, his face is hard to see. But from the slight tilt of his head and the lack of an answer, she realizes he’s confused.
So she clarifies.
“Leaving the two of them there. Grandma Nega wouldn’t have left them alive.”
“Grandma Nega?” the necromancer asks, sounding intrigued.
She can only wonder why she still calls the woman Grandma. After all, she no longer belongs to the clan, but she is simply used to calling the old woman that.
“The wife of our husband and the leader of the Clue,” Saca explains beside her in a somewhat blunt tone. But her feelings toward the woman—and the entire clan—are more than understandable. Something Sena shares as well, though naturely not to the same extent as Saca.
“Ohhh, I see,” Nero exclaims.
“But why would I care what that old woman would do?”
She turns her head again as they walk and sees him shaking his head.
“It’s not like I would take any pleasure in imitating a mass murderer.”
“I understand. But leaving them so they can try again…” she tries to argue.
“Again!?” he almost laughs.
“Do you think they’d be stupid enough to try again after this?”
Remembering the pitiful sight of them tied up in that room, watching the skeleton form, she has to agree that after seeing Nero in all his glory, very few people would dare try again.
“You never know!” Adar’s voice calls from ahead of them.
“You’re still taking a risk!”
“Yes, that’s true. But it’s a calculated risk…” Nero agrees from behind.
“Especially considering the risk that two bodies could represent. Do any of you analytical minds have any idea what you would do with the bodies?” Nero replies with all his sarcasm.
She can only respond with silence.
But he doesn’t let the point drop.
“Leave the bodies there to be discovered eventually? And when people asked what happened? And if then the wet nurse reveals that Saca had been asking about a private place, to then be told about that same place! "
The idea immediately makes her look at her friend, who now wears a worried expression. It’s not hard to imagine how quickly things would become serious for her—and by association, for her brother.
“Yes, surely no one would become suspicious of the newcomers in town!” he continues, almost with amusement.
“Trying to move the bodies afterward still involves the risk of being discovered—with bodies. That way, at least the townspeople wouldn’t need to suspect anything. They could be certain we had murdered them in cold blood. A charming image, isn’t it?”
Once again, silence reigns, as no one has a way to contradict him.
“Or perhaps use a spell to make them move themselves. Of course, then, instead of a cold-blooded murder, we’d be dealing with a necromancer panic. And who would people suspect? The newcomers no one really knows.”
Again, the gravity of the consequences prevents any reply.
Only Nero’s laughter echoes over the sound of their footsteps on the road.
“And the funny thing is—they’d be right!”
“But they now know you’re a necromancer, and they can tell others. Or try to kill you—or one of us—with better information this time,” Adar finally counters from ahead.
Nero’s voice softens as he regains his serious tone.
“Yes, that’s true. This choice is still a risk. But I’d rather deal with whatever rumors might appear.”
He pauses heavily, as if still thinking while they walk, before continuing.
“At least the suspicion will be smaller and easier to manage. Which gives us time before we have to leave the city.”
She looks again at Saca, revealing that both of them understand what he means.
If things become serious, they will have to leave—depriving Delmic of the milk he needs. The more time they have for him to begin feeding properly on something else, the more valuable it will be for his survival.
“Besides, I have no intention of becoming a murder hobo,” Nero suddenly says in a completely casual tone.
“And what is that?” she asks, wondering if this is one of those moments when the necromancer says something strange and later refuses to explain it—or even acknowledge he said it.
“As the name suggests, it’s someone who travels around killing anyone when they feel like it,” he explains.
The idea itself isn’t that strange. After all, someone had just tried to kill Nero over soup.
But the casual way he speaks gives her the impression that the situation is more serious.
“Ohh!! There’s usually always some justification… Something like: they just looked at me in a way I didn’t like, so they’re a threat, and I have to kill them… and while I’m at it, I’d better kill their whole family and their friends.”
He pauses before concluding with sarcasm:
“After all, you can’t take risks with such dangerous people.”
She quickly understands how someone like Nero with that kind of worldview would be terrifying.
“Gaining a worldview like that would be horrible if I ever managed to return home. I could hardly survive in a civilized world then,” he comments casually before quickly falling silent.
That makes her turn to look at the young man behind her, because it is the first time she has heard him speak about his home. And from the stumble in Adar’s footsteps, he must also be surprised.
The idea that he might return home is interesting. It suggests that the place he comes from still exists somewhere.
She isn’t even that shocked by the fact that he thinks he isn’t currently in a civilized place. Someone with the knowledge he usually shows is more than justified in having that impression.
But the silhouette of the young man behind her—hard to see because of the sun—seems to grow tense. Like, it is one of those times when he apparently says something he hadn’t meant to reveal.
“Even so, do you still trust that they’ll do what you told them?” Adar asks, though she suspects the question is simply meant to move the conversation to a less uncomfortable subject for Nero.
He takes a while to answer, but eventually says:
“It doesn’t matter.”
And with that, they continue walking normally.
“One way or another, they’ll give us the time we need. Either they run away and say nothing to the soup idiot. In which case, it will take him a long time to realize they failed and hire more imbeciles.”
As he speaks, his earlier calmness begins to return.
“If they tell him what happened and decide to try again. By far the worst possible outcome, but they will need to make new plans. Something that will still take time.”
“And if they actually do what I told them—which isn’t that unlikely!—then the problem solves itself, with the fool learning that it’s a terrible idea to try anything again.”
“All things considered, I think we’re in the best possible scenario given the circumstances,” he finishes with a sigh as the world around them grows darker and darker.
And Sena hopes he’s right.
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