Defiant Necromancer (Book 2 stubbing July 3)

A wave of power rolled off of Stanislaw.

It mingled with the wave of Draconic Law power from Eolas, then twisted its intent. Distorted it from a wave of power meant to destroy the thread that bound the undead together into one that strengthened them.

On top of Tybalt’s Unholy Consecration making the ground sacred to the undead, on top of Victoria’s prayers to bolster that effect, now the dragon inadvertently gave them some of his own power. All the monsters that were already clawing at his flesh grew immediately fiercer, the next few arrows from the Huntsmasters penetrated more deeply - every undead on Tybalt’s side got a second wind.

The necromancer could tell instantly that it wasn’t going to be enough. The damage had gone from pinpricks to something slightly beyond that, but now Eolas could pinpoint the other being that had the Corruption skill. The dragon’s eyes flickered over his opposition, gleaming intelligently, and Tybalt had a premonition of defeat.

“Huntsmasters, cease firing arrows. All able-bodied mummies, grab Kistana, Vidalia, Victoria, the injured Beastkings, and Baldwin, and retreat now!”

There was some confusion from the undead. Blood was finally streaming from dozens of different places on the opened patch of the dragon’s chest, the scorpions’ acidic venom that still coated Eolas seemed to be preventing his regeneration from taking proper effect, and the undead themselves were stronger than ever. Even the zombies and skeletons were doing some tiny amount of damage thanks to the dragons’ enhancement.

Even so, Tybalt had commanded his key undead to flee for their unlives.

His orders were absolute. The Huntsmasters and Chthonic Mages immediately moved to follow them. Two Huntsmasters darted forward to grab the chunks of mummy and Baldwin, while the others picked up the beastgirls - even as Kistana tried to resist.

“Stop, my lord needs me to kill the dragon!” she insisted, growling, wrestling against the mummy carrying her despite her broken bones.

“Go with them,” Tybalt told her, speaking directly into her mind via the skill he had learned from Eolas just before his body was destroyed.

Tybalt spoke into Dero’s mind next.

“I think he’s about to do something big. Be ready to run.”

The words were simple and clear, but they were so unexpected, and Dero was so on edge, that the dark elf actually jumped.

“I understand,” she muttered after a moment. She looked down at her skirt as she spoke, suggesting the ring was in a skirt pocket.

Eolas opened his jaws wide and released a giant burst of flame, aiming first at the zombies and skeletons ripping at his flesh like hundreds of mosquitoes.

His blast struck them, was absorbed by the sealing power of the dragon-scorched zombies and skeletons, and then quickly overwhelmed their absorption and made them explode.

The explosions were part of Tybalt’s plan to wear the dragon down. He had hoped that Eolas would blow the creatures up with that almighty Flame of Destruction, since the necromancer had already observed that power was one of the only things that could hurt Eolas even through his scales.

But he had miscalculated.

Yes, these creatures could absorb some of the Flame of Destruction via the sealing rune. Yes, they then exploded, and scores of them did so right next to Eolas’s body. The problem was that the amount of power each one could absorb was hardly enough to do much additional damage. The explosions each one made would have been enough to blow a human apart, but they just left little pockmarks on the dragon’s skin. It was like Tybalt was watching his monsters die to give Eolas a bad rash.

The flames continued forward and destroyed the scorpions en masse, then incinerated all the other remains that littered the ground.

“Can’t Teleport,” Dero muttered.

Was this the first time she tried it after he put that Draconic Law in place? Shit. I wonder how long it takes that to wear off.

The dark elf turned to run, and then the flames were all around her, moving impossibly fast, quicker than Eolas had ever shown previously. They formed a ring of fire twenty feet high.

That was the last thing Tybalt saw before his last undead near the action was incinerated. His point of view went dark.

***

“Shit.”

I really thought that, maybe, if we worked together, we could actually beat this thing in a fight. I criticized Tybalt for being arrogant, trying to go at the dragon alone. But we couldn’t have won a straight fight together either. Not if the opponent took it seriously for even a minute. The fight only lasted this long, because the dragon took us so lightly…

Dero stepped back as the wall of flames pressed in close around her. She reached into her skirt and found the inner pocket where she had concealed Tybalt’s magic ring.

A giant claw burst through the wall of flames around her, and Dero quickly slipped the ring out of her pocket. It already had bits of necromancer growing out of it, something squishy - an eyeball? - and tossed it into the air, as high as she could.

Then the giant claw had her.

It clenched around Dero so tightly, she could hardly breathe, let alone move. She didn’t bother conjuring her void daggers. She already knew the scales on the dragon’s fingers would resist them. The massive claw pulled her through the flames, exiting through the gap the claw had made in the first place so that nothing was singed but the ends of her long purple hair.

Then Eolas raised the dark elf up to head height.

“I have finished with these games,” the dragon said in a dark tone. “What have you done with my friend?”

“She’s… gone…” Dero’s voice came out as a strangled whisper. The dragon squeezed her harder, so that every breath had to fight to make its way in or out of her. “Never… see her… again.”

Eolas’s grip tightened even further. The dark elf felt bones straining and wondered if she was about to die. If she was, she would go defiantly. Spitting in the face of destiny. The way she had lived her life.

I was supposed to die a long time ago. But… I don’t want to go. Fuck you.

“Then you will spend the rest of your life regretting- ” the dragon began.

“We can come to some accord, if you are willing to bargain, Eolas.” Tybalt’s voice spoke directly into the minds of both dragon and dark elf, smooth and calming. “But first, you must put my friend down. You are crushing her. I would think it would trouble you, killing the last of her race.”

Thank fuck.

Miraculously, Eolas blinked and then slightly loosened his grip on his hostage.

“I had hardly noticed that she was a dark elf,” he said slowly. “I have not encountered her people for centuries. Perhaps a millennium.”

“We haven’t been doing so hot,” Dero rasped. She coughed as the dragon’s grasp relaxed a little more. “I really might be the last one, or close to it.”

“Still- ”

“Why do you insist on ending this with violence?” came Tybalt’s voice again. His voice was silky, almost seductive. It reminded Dero of the way the necromancer sometimes spoke to the women he was involved with. “We did not look for this fight. If you would only promise to reach some accord with me and not try to kill me or my allies, we could quickly conclude a truce that would reunite you and your niece. I would be willing to consent to rules regarding my use of disease as a weapon. I recognize that my pestilence has gone too far. I never intended for it to become a widespread plague, and I have done as much as I thought possible to contain it within the Salt Waste. Surely you can recognize that if I intended to spread it widely, I would have acted differently than I have.”

The dragon nodded slowly.

“Earlier, you were attempting to deceive me,” Eolas rumbled. His voice seemed stronger than it had been earlier. “That made it difficult to expect to negotiate in anything like good faith.”

Fuck, all those injuries are starting to heal, Dero noted with mild horror. His lungs were damaged before, I was sure.

Now even the scales were slowly coming back, though clearly still slowed by the scorpions’ fluids. The arrows that had buried themselves in the dragon’s chest were popping out like toothpicks. The aura that had repeatedly shrunk during the fight was rebounding.

“It was a difficult situation, since you were quite intimidating at the time,” Tybalt replied. “If I lied at all, it was simply about my willingness to use disease as a weapon of war. However, I am willing to refrain from using disease for the purpose of creating new undead. And I have no desire to drive mankind to extinction.”

“Still, I… I should destroy you,” Eolas said. But he sounded hesitant. “You might make one decision now and reverse it later. For humanity’s sake, I- ”

“You could destroy me, certainly, but I am an agent of the Death God.”

“You… I sensed the aura of a divine being before, when you perverted my attempt to heal myself. But I have no obligations to the gods. Not to any of them. My kind fought those battles out with them long ago.”

“My point was only that if you kill me and Dero, he will simply send others like me, armed with my plague and a deeper grudge than even I bear. The only difference will be that you will have condemned thousands of beastfolk to a pointless death without my strength… and you will have lost your little elf princess forever.”

“If you are truly endowed with your powers by the Death God, it is possible I might be forced to fight this battle again. But it is a struggle I am capable of- ”

“Why struggle at all? Why not reach some peaceful accord with us? This town did not have to be destroyed. You are a reasonable being, Eolas. That elf girl clearly loves you like family. Let’s end this now. You don’t trust me. Fine. That’s healthy. If the girl is a princess or of high birth, as my companion guessed, then make her family the mediators of our dispute and the guarantors of our agreement. We will negotiate in their territory, under conditions of strict fairness and nonviolence. If I ever subsequently violate our accord, I will have not only a dragon but a powerful high elf family trying to kill me. I am willing to accept this risk. Do you agree to a cessation of all hostilities unless I break this truce?”

She nodded. Gods, is this really going to be over with just dialogue…? I’ll have to remember to remind Tybalt that I suggested he negotiate.

Otherwise his head would swell to planet size after this.

The dragon hesitated, then finally nodded its great head.

“Very well. We will reach an agreement under the auspices of the High Elf King.”

He gave his word! It’s fucking over!

The necromancer suddenly reappeared on the ground near the dragon and Dero. Apparently, he had allowed his transformation to lapse. He looked refreshed, though he wore not a stitch of clothing, and his armor had been destroyed.

“We will meet you there,” Tybalt replied. “Dero, you know the way, right?”

She could hear it in his voice, the sentiment, Just say yes, so we can get this dragon to leave, please.

“Um, yeah, sure,” the dark elf said.

I think I remember where their isles are, yeah. I can’t believe we survived that. Dero looked over at Tybalt. You… kind of sort of won.