The Nekromancer - 89. Chapter 89

Looking at the glowing blue portal with the image of a small city in the center, Jeremy had to admit he was scared of their catfolk companion. Gaining strength and power was one thing; he could understand training and hard work, but Jakun had done all of this in two months, and Jeremy had no idea how he had managed it.

“Come on Zephyr, I know it’s a big glowing hole, but you need to go through,” Amnor Sen grunted, trying to push his horse toward the portal.

Zephyr snorted, resisting with every fibre of his being. Jeremy didn’t blame the horse. All they could see was a city on the other end. What city it was remained to be seen. Jakun seemed pretty confident it was Absalom, but the catfolk insisted on going last. Something about making sure everyone passed through the vortex of energy.

“How did you say you found the city?” Jeremy asked suspiciously.

“A bird. I scried on it, and found a nice small alley. Whether or not we actually land there remains to be seen,” Jakun said, fleshy ears flicking.

Jeremy was relatively sure the catfolk was lying, but then, they needed to get to Absalom, and this was the best way any of them could think of. For all the ways the cleric had grown in the faith, Jeremy couldn’t quite get some of Cayden Cailean’s higher prayers. Maybe it was the drink. He hadn’t been brewing his special drinks in months. Come to think of it, Jeremy had no idea where his poisons were.

Sighing, the cleric moved forward, nearly slamming his shoulders against Zephyr’s backside. It was like running into a wall, but the horse stumbled forward into the portal, his body vanishing. Amnor Sen followed swiftly, the elf anxious not to leave his horse’s side.

Jeremy looked at Jakun sharply, the lich looking as innocent as a rotting corpse could look. He couldn’t seem to get the illusions to stick, and it made Jeremy feel a little better, to know that Jakun’s true nature wasn’t so easily hidden. It was horrible, but the cleric was certain the amurran had been up to no good. Still, Amnor Sen vouched for him, and that encouraged Jeremy to let Jakun alone.

“I know you didn something to get this portal to work. You better watch yourself,” the cleric said, before stepping through the portal.

Icy darkness washed over the human, his eyes squinting shut as bright light suddenly blinded him.

“Amnor Sen? You there?” he asked, throwing up a hand against the light.

“Yeah, wherever here is,” the paladin grunted.

Jeremy felt a hand pushing him forward, Jakun’s presence filling the air behind him.

“Not bad. The city’s barely a mile off,” the lich said, a sense of pride running through his words. “I was nearly ten miles off in Mechitar.”

Jeremy looked around them at ruined siege engines, collapsed tents and various weapons of war. A tower stood in the distance, pennants impossible to make out from where they stood. The cleric had an uneasy feeling about this place.

“You’re sure we’re in the right place?”

“Oh yeah, this is just the Cairnlands,” Jakun shrugged. “But if you need to be certain, we can always ask him.”

The catfolk pointed at a sun-bleached skull, empty eyeholes staring blindly at the group. Jeremy shivered at the thought, glaring at the mage.

“Do not ask him anything. Besides, I doubt he’d answer you.”

“Oh, he probably would. I think he’s Taldane. Probably a lieutenant, not important enough to have a proper burial. Poor guy…”

Amnor Sen frowned at the lich, his hand gripping Zephyr’s bridle more firmly in his hand.

“How exactly do you know that?”

“I’m guessing. I did some research on Absalom in Sothis, and apparently the city has been attacked quite a bit. One of the assaults came from a place called Taldor and was nearly successful. This close to the city gates, I’m thinking he was one of the Taldane patrols.”

The lich picked up the skull carefully, setting it on flat earth before gathering stones to cover it.

“What are you doing?”

“Well if we aren’t talking to him, we should at least pay our respects to the fallen, right?” Jakun asked, setting another stone over the skull.

Shrugging, Amnor Sen and Jeremy began helping the one armed amurrun, the endeavour taking barely five minutes. Finished with his task, Jakun bowed his head briefly, before turning toward his companions.

“Okay, there should be an inn near the city gates. You should kill me here so you don’t have my old body stinking up the place. I’ll probably decompose really fast without magic holding me together. There’s enough gold in my bag to cover a second room so you don’t have to watch my body regrow; just set my phylactery in there and it should resurrect me,” the lich said, kneeling.

“Wait… just like that? You don’t… there’s no magic ritual?” Amnor Sen asked, surprised.

“No, just a decapitation. At least, that should do the job. Then again, taking my arm didn’t kill me… Maybe you should try chopping me up into pieces. That seemed to end Ivris properly.”

“How the fuck are you so calm about this?” Jeremy demanded.

“Come on, it’s not like this is my first death. At least this one shouldn’t hurt as much,” Jakun shrugged. “Hey, buy yourself some milk on me Jeremy. If it makes you feel better. I should see you all again in about ten days.”

He looked at Amnor Sen, the paladin paling.

“Why do you need me to do this?” the elf asked. “I’ve never killed anyone before…”

“You’re not really killing me. Well, in a sense, you are, but you’re really just freeing me from a broken body. How can I pursue any type of art with only one arm?” Jakun pointed out. “Besides, your glaive is the only weapon properly weighted for a somewhat clean cut. And unless you want to give your blade to a drunk-”

He pointed at Jeremy, the cleric drinking heavily from his cup.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Please Jakun, I’m doing a lot for you already. Don’t make me kill you too…” Amnor Sen said.

“Then find someone to do it. I can’t go around looking like this,” Jakun frowned.

“I’ll do it,” Jeremy sighed, reaching for Amnor Sen’s glaive.

The elf pulled it away, staring at his husband.

“Why?”

“Because someone has to, and honestly, I’d feel better if someone he knew ended him. Besides, then I could say I’ve killed a lich. That should earn me bragging rights in a tavern, especially around here.”

Amnor Sen let out a deep breath, handing the weapon over. He looked at Jakun, forcing himself to meet the lich’s dark eyes.

“You are sure about this?”

Jakun nodded.

“It’s the only way. If you want, you can bury this body. I think Sadira left a shovel in her bag. I’m not sure why, I doubt she ever dug up a corpse in her life…”

Jeremy held out the glaive, feeling the weight and taking a couple practice swings. The weapon made an audible woosh as it passed through the air, the sound grating on Amnor Sen’s already thin nerves. Finally, Jeremy stepped up to the catfolk, Jakun taking a deep breath. The cleric pulled back, readying himself.

“Wait!”

They froze, the paladin and the cleric looking at Jakun in concern.

“My amulet…”

He pulled it off with a brief struggle, looking at the golden wolf head. Taking a breath, he held out the amulet to Amnor Sen, the elf accepting it silently.

“Take care of it for me. If I can return, it brings me life,” the lich said.

Nodding, Amnor Sen tucked the gold in his bag, the catfolk’s eyes following it hungrily.

“Are you ready?” Jeremy asked.

Jakun nodded, his head held high to grant the glaive access to his neck. The cold steel touched the back of his neck, and pulled back. A moment’s hesitation, and then the weapon swung, and Jakun’s head rolled.