The Nekromancer - 69. Chapter 69

The city had an ill aura to it. Jeremy shuddered as the cart rumbled toward the Griffon’s Roost. Something had happened here, and yet Quantium seemed perfectly normal on the outside. He could feel the necromancy that festered under the surface of the city though, the remnants of some sort of ritual.

“You don’t think Jakun did something, do you?” he asked.

Amnor Sen frowned as they approached the inn.

“What are you talking about? There’s nothing wrong,” the paladin said.

Jeremy sighed quietly.

“The one time I need your evil detection to be working and you decide to take a nap. The city is full of necromantic energy. Something big happened here… or around here.”

“Like… in the inn?”

“No, the city in general. Why don’t you go take care of the room? I want to check on Jakun.”

Amnor Sen stared at his husband in shock. Jeremy held up a hand as he slid out of the cart.

“Don’t say anything. Just don’t.”

Amnor Sen bit back his reply, nodding curtly. It was not like Jeremy to act like this. Either the cleric was losing his mind, or something had happened that was really worrying him.

“Okay. You be safe. If you need to fight anyone, come find me first.”

“I’ll do what I can.” Jeremy replied.

Squaring his shoulders, Jeremy headed toward the magic district, his hair standing on end. Every step he took felt doomed, fate conspiring to an end he felt certain he would not like.

Necromancy wasn’t inherently bad. He was sure he could find good uses for the magic. But the undertone of death in the air, that was strongly evil, and he had no idea what had caused it. Jeremy wasn’t surprised Amnor Sen couldn’t feel it. The elf had never been the most magically minded individual, but his connection to the gods had to let him at least feel this intense hatred and sorrow permeating the city. It was as though someone had lost a dear friend and tried to bring them back, only to fail drastically. It was a feeling Jeremy prayed he would never feel personally.

Approaching the school where Jakun was staying, Jeremy stepped up to the large oak door, rapping on it. A wicket was drawn back, the plant-like creature from his first visit staring at him through leshy eyes.

“I am here to see Jakun,” Jeremy said.

“The school is closed to outsiders,” the Ghoran replied blandly.

Grunting, Jeremy pulled his mug off his belt.

“I can cast conjurations too,” he said, whispering a prayer to Cayden Cailean.

His mug filled with a frothy ale, the cleric drinking deeply as the spell finished. The liquid went down easy, mentally bolstering him though the physical effects were negligible at best.

The wicket was closed, and the door opened, allowing Jeremy to enter. Passing the Ghoran, the man looked around, trying to figure out where Jakun’s room was again.

“Ser, we are not accepting new students,” someone said quickly, approaching the cleric.

Jeremy turned his head, taking in a harried woman in a long green robe.

“I’m actually here to see a friend of mine. Jakun, dark furred catfolk, came here with an Avistan man?”

“We haven’t seen him in days. His room is magically sealed and we have a team of mages working on getting inside,” the woman said. “He’s your friend?”

Jeremy nodded, frowning.

“Why would he lock himself in his room? And how? Fuck, you guys must be good teachers; he never could have done something like this when he got here.”

“We’re hoping he just got stuck. It happens sometimes when mages mess with temporal spells. The time inside the room doesn’t match ours.”

“He doesn’t have any kind of spell that would do that,” Jeremy denied.

“Forgive me, but a cleric really wouldn’t know what a wizard is capable of given enough time. He could have altered the room inside to be its own realm,” the mage replied sharply. “There is a time altering rune on the door and if we mess with it, it could destroy all concept of time within the room or without. Your friend may very well have destroyed the world without us knowing.”

“Look, he’s already accidentally unleashed an undead dragon on a city. I highly doubt Jakun would be messing with any other spells he didn’t understand. He learns from his mistakes.”

“Regardless, there is a rune on your friend’s door and we haven’t seen him in what has likely been months for him. At a certain point, you have to realize that he is likely-”

A loud thump interrupted the mage, the two of them looking toward the staircase. The smell of death washed over them, stronger than ever, and Jeremy grimaced.

“What in the Nine Hells are you doing here?” he demanded, glaring at the mage.

“That is also your friend. He spent his time studying necromancy instead of conjurations. Perhaps they finally broke into the room to find a corpse.”

Jeremy shook his head, moving toward the stairs. A hand stopped him, the cleric grunting softly.

“You do not want to go up there. Whatever just happened was big.”

Above them, they could hear shouting, voices yelling for someone to stand down. Soft steps on the staircase preceded the stench of necromancy, until an emaciated body appeared, sunken eyes and matted fur that looked like Jakun but surely wasn’t.

“Jakun?! No… no, this… You did not do this…” Jeremy breathed.

The amurrun blinked in surprise, staring at the cleric.

“Jeremy? What are you doing here? I was just going to find you,” he frowned. “Oh…”

Murmuring a word, the catfolk ran a hand over his face, his appearance freshening a bit and losing most of the undead look. Jeremy’s heart sank as he stared at the box in Jakun’s free hand. It was filled with necromantic energy, and Jeremy realised it was the source of the energy.

“Oh kitten…. What did we tell you about not doing what Loran would do?”