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    Yeoldebard
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Nekromancer - 78. Chapter 78

The vampires flowed like fog through the night, four hours of travel separating them from their target. Jakun knew most of them were heading to their final rest, but he was willing to do almost anything to save Anya, and they were willing pawns on the battlefield.

He and Gidane rode on tigerback, the tiger skeletons shedding skin with every step. They would last the full four hours, though they were only as fast as the slowest vampire. A dozen scrolls sat in Jakun’s bag, the catfolk waiting to hand them out when they reached the cave outside Sadira’s fortress. The assault needed to be perfectly timed to allow him and Gidane to slip inside the fortress sewer.

His spellbook was hidden in a pocket dimension, the catfolk Gidane’s only access to the spell he craved so desperately. An amulet sat in his cloak, safely hidden from any prying eyes. The plan was to put it on a mile outside the fortress, while the vampire’s spawn took the scrolls to use in the cave. He would have ten minutes to learn how to move on four legs before they entered the tunnel and he had to move more carefully. It didn’t give much time to practice.

The sky was turning a dangerous shade of blue when they reached the hills. Jakun wasted no time dispelling his summons and handing out the scrolls. Vampires scattered into the surrounding gloom, taking up positions around the fortress, and the catfolk removed his amulet. The wolfhead stared at him morosely, as though trying to warn him away. He knew it was cursed, knew he would theoretically be forced into a wolf form every night for as long as the amulet was stuck on him. And there would be a compulsion for him to keep it on him, some sort of magical geas placed to ensure he didn’t try to get rid of the curse. Jakun could handle that, and the insomnia that would likely come from being a wolf all night. It wasn’t the first time he had been forced to stay awake.

The golden chain went around his neck, the amurrun shivering as the magical energy coursed through him. A sudden gasping breath escaped the lich, his heart suddenly beating again as he fell onto his hands and knees. He was alive… but how? Why?

A confused huff escaped the cat turned wolf, Jakun standing up on wobbly legs. His body hurt, knives stabbing his veins as his blood flowed again, but it was all over in a single agonizing instant, the wolf stumbling as he found his legs. It was almost like the curse in the amulet was subduing the curse of lichdom while it acted. That, or it was an elaborate illusion to convince him to keep the amulet on. And Jakun had to admit it was working. He could smell again, taste again, feel again, and the lich realized just how much he had given up in pursuit of Loran. It had to end.

“Tunnel.”

A black wolf stood beside the lich, body pointing toward the sewage pool at the end of their goal. In the canine form, Jakun could smell it all, gagging as the stench filled his nose even from this far away.

They began running together, a race against the clock as an orange glow warned against the coming dawn. Splashing headfirst into the foul pool, the two swam through the liquid sludge, Jakun shaking the muck off his fur as he slowly crawled out of the obstacle.

A loud crack drew his attention, a bright flash of light breaking the twilight dawn. The first wave of wolves was charging, and the sounds of combat filled the air a minute later as the fortress guards rose to defend their mistress.

Jakun crawled into the narrow tunnel, wriggling swiftly through the fetid darkness. He could feel the dawn advancing, an inexorable force that would not be denied even for a moment. If the sun rose while he was in the tunnel and triggered the amulet’s magic, he would be crushed.

It encouraged the lich to move faster, passing branching tunnels until he suddenly emerged from an enormous drainage hole in what appeared to be the kitchen.

The sun struck then, the wolf whimpering as his body died, heart stopping while fur retreated into his flesh. He stood up slowly, pulling his bow out of his quiver. Jakun was immensely grateful his gear had melded with him, allowing him to keep his weapons on him as he shifted. Fighting Sadira without his bow or his rapier would have been too difficult even for him.

“Hurry. Every moment we waste is another moment she summons a bodyguard,” Gidane growled, striding toward the kitchen exit.

A shambling body threw itself at the vampire, Gidane swinging an arm that crushed the zombie’s skull in a single blow. He continued onward as though nothing had happened, a grim determination to his countenance that would have made Jakun shiver if he had still been living.

They moved through the fortress, the servants’ quarters a maze of halls and rooms filled with undead chattel. The zombies and skeletons fell in scores, none of them able to break the intruders. By keeping to the inhabited sections of the fortress, and avoiding the sections Gidane’s spies had warned would contain treasures, they avoided all of the traps, making their way to Sadira’s sunroom.

Stopping outside the oaken door, Jakun held up a hand, calling the penumbra spell to mind. His fingers danced through arcane gestures, a dark shadow enveloping the vampire lord.

“Are you prepared?” Gidane asked, his face masked by the spell.

“Always,” Jakun said, a warning and a promise. “After today, you will be a rich man. But we will be taking her alive.”

“Of course,” Gidane smirked. “It would be difficult to rub her failure in her face if she was no longer living.”

The lich shrugged, letting the vampire have his reason. He shoved the door open, Gidane striding confidently into the sunlit sanctuary. There was a loud thump and an agonized scream, Jakun peering cautiously into the room.

Gidane was trapped under a wall of force, the vampire’s body smoking as Jakun’s spell was stripped away from him. A woman’s laugh filled the air, a chilling chuckle that sent shudders of revulsion down the lich’s spine.

“You truly are moronic Gidane. How you ever saw yourself as intelligent enough to be a mage is beyond me,” the necromancer sneered, approaching her foe. “You will never escape here, and your followers will be mist in the sun’s rays.”

Jakun pulled away from the room, taking a moment to think. He had hit a setback, had been overconfident in his ally. Gidane was dead, there was no way the vampire could make it back to his coffin outside the city… but he had served his purpose. Now Jakun just had to finish the job.

Copyright © 2020 Yeoldebard; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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