The Nekromancer - 84. Chapter 84

The night air was frigid, yet he felt nothing. Jakun could see the ice forming on the ground, a fog billowing upward until it near smothered everything around him. He wasn’t sure if Ivris believed the fog worked or if the ravener was just trying to frighten him.

The funny thing about being an undead, soulless monster was that Jakun no longer feared death. No, he feared failure. And that made this no different than working for Loran. He was just going to kill this ravener, maybe harvest the dragon’s innards for use in spells, and then wait for his former master to arrive.

At least, that was the broad theory. In practice it would no doubt prove more difficult.

“Fethos ve mrith litrix, majak ve ingowil, origato sia saurivic ocuir,” the catfolk chanted, energy flowing around him as he set up wards and gave himself sight through the clouded night.

His bow was strung, a murmured word activating the magic quiver that had seen him through so much. Jakun nocked an arrow to his string, eyes scanning for his foe.

His invisible foe. Why throw a fog cloud if you were invisible? It made no sense to the catfolk. Maybe somewhere in his millennia of existing, the ravener had discovered some trick, but to Jakun, it just seemed like a waste of energy.

“Ocuir sia irlym.”

And there was his foe, a translucent dragon circling over the fortress. Jakun had one chance for his polymorph to work, one opportunity to break the ravener, but he couldn't take that chance just yet. He needed to hurt Ivris, distract him with pain.

“Hit the eye…” the catfolk breathed, the quiver at his hip thrumming with the spoken request.

As the arrow leapt from his bow, the lich grabbed a second missile, nocking it back as his eyes tracked the first. The arrow flew at the ravener, just missing his face, and there was an eruption of energy, a ripple through the air as a spell was discharged. It confused Jakun, as he ducked behind a pillar, until he realized it had been a sensor. Loran had been watching his new pet.

“How does it feel to be the lackey of a bag of meat?” he called, minute energy throwing his words to the ravener’s ears. “Loran sends you to do his dirty work. Is he too much of a coward to face me himself?”

Ivris roared, his head swivelling toward the catfolk. Belatedly Jakun realised the ravener hadn’t known where he was. He had just given himself away with his posturing, his attempt to worm his way into the dragon’s mind.

Snow sprung up around the lich, freezing winds kicking ice around as the ravener sped toward him. The dragon’s maw opened, Jakun loosing his second arrow into the gaping hole. He rolled to the right, keeping to Ivris’ blind side. The catfolk could almost hear Anya berating him for his stupidity, the werewolf’s voice a dim memory that nearly threw Jakun’s concentration.

No, he needed to focus, needed to end Ivris here and now. He could not afford to be distracted by a memory, no matter how fresh the wound in his heart was.

There had been no bellow, no sign that his shot had hit. Ivris still spun around, trying to track the elusive pest that had been a thorn in his side for too long. And Jakun saw his arrow stuck in a shield of necrotic energy, a protection against just such an attack. He let out a silent groan. This was going to be even harder than he thought. Every time he had faced this beast, he’d had allies who had cut Ivris’ magical defenses down, but now…

Now all he had was what Sadira had set up. He needed to restart the fortress defenses, the horde of smaller undead that would fall like chaff before the ravener, but just might whittle his shields down enough for Jakun to get a clean shot.

Darting back into the fortress, the catfolk sped through the halls, skidding to a stop in front of a ritual chamber. Pushing through the door, the lich knelt in a permanent circle, pulling on the energy within his body to call to the undead guarding the fortress. He hated having to do this, to call up the dead to fight for him. They lacked the will to resist his call, but this was for a good cause. If they had minds, he was sure the dead would agree that Ivris needed to rejoin them, the ravener’s stained soul descending to the Boneyard to be judged for his crimes.

“Si relgr wer eligneari ekess slathalin ihk ve. Svent Ivris.”

Magic flowed from the lich, the walls around him filling with necrotic energy. Skeletons rose, dog, cat, human, insect, it mattered little to the amurrun. He would see to it they received a reward for their service, even if they lacked the minds to understand it.

Ivris’ roar shook the fortress, a section of the roof caving in nearby as undead swarmed from the walls. Jakun was grateful Sadira adhered to the laws of Graydirge, burying the dead to help hold the walls. It gave him plenty of allies, though the building he was in was now too unstable to withstand the dragon attacking it.

Mentally directing his forces away from the building as he raced to join them, the lich grabbed for Ivris’ attention again. He liked this fortress. It would not be destroyed if he could help it.

As the dragon wheeled toward the ragtag army of undead, Jakun raised his hand. Arrows flew as animals charged, many of them destroyed in an icy blast the catfolk didn’t feel. He wondered at that briefly as he gathered energy for his spell. Turning his attention to his casting, Jakun ran forward, a moment’s levitation sending him up into the air. His hand sank through Ivris’ shields, catching a bone, and Jakun yelled out his spell as they fell.

“Xkhat vi sart rekisix!”

There was an eruption of energy around them, and he felt Ivris’ mind again, a pool of rage and fear. It brought a brief flash of hope to Jakun; maybe, just maybe, he could actually win this contest of wills-

An agonizing grip wrapped itself around his mind, Jakun screaming as he plummeted to the rocky ground below. Ivris was still alive and well, but the ravener’s mind withdrew, giving Jakun a moment's respite as he crashed into the ground, his arm filled with the fluffy white fur of a rabbit.