Time of the Necromancer: Chapter 21

“So help me understand this Mori. I’ve slept on it and it still doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

Morrigan sighed only somewhat annoyed but she understood because none of this made sense in a vacuum. Without seeing something concrete it was just words and they were too fantastic to fathom.

“What part don’t you understand Ben?”

“How about all of it?” She sighed and he raised his hands in defense. “I don’t have the sight that the Harlequin have. I can’t see.” He waved his hands. “Whatever it is that resides inside you now. I know something in you is different now but it’s hard to process.”

“Do you think it’s easy for me Ben?”

He opened his mouth to say something but shook his head, “No Mori. I know. Just. Go over it again. Please.”

She walked from the door of their tent toward the bed but she didn’t sit. She just smoothed her hand over the blanket and looked at Benidict. He sat in the chair across from her, his arms and legs folded. He was being patient and that was the best she could ask for.

“Our Queen came to me in a dream. To slow down the Ouroboros She decided to allow part of Her soul to rest within me. Like a container or a vessel until its safe for Her to revive in the same way that She has for years.”

Benidict was silent, processing this explanation and the many others. It had been some hours since they had met with the Harlequin early that morning. They had changed almost immediately turning obedient and subservient, following any whim that Morrigan asked of them and insisting to guard their tent. Even now two of them were outside while the other two had been sent away at Morrigan’s order.

Finally, he asked, “So what does that make you now?”

That question caught her off guard and the few answers she had in mind were suddenly moot, “What do you mean?”

“Her Majesty resides inside of you. Does that make you for all intents and purposes Her Majesty now? Or are you still simply my Mori?”

“I,” she frowned hard and averted her gaze from him this time. She looked at her own hand and as she opened and closed her fist, feeling blood in her veins. Her own blood accompanied by something with more weight to it. “I don’t know. I thought that I was still myself but maybe I no longer am.”

Benidict’s pale brown hands covered her own then and she looked at him and her eyes showing a vulnerability that was only for him and Alistair. Gone were the challenging emeralds and replaced were wide rubies of uncertainty. And Benidict’s reflected that same feeling.

“What do you feel inside?”

“What?”

He tapped her chest, “In here. What do you feel?” Her face flashed annoyance but he shook his head. “Just try to answer.”

Letting out a breath she nodded slowly, “I feel. Power. Like a fire has been lit inside me. But it’s quiet right now. Watching. Waiting to be needed. And I fear that if I ever open up to it entirely, I’ll be consumed and burned away.”

Benidict squeezed her hand and then wrapped his arms around her tightly. She didn’t hug him back but leaned into him letting him support her weight. She shut her eyes and felt his heartbeat, beyond that he felt the blood inside him. He felt the second pulse of the power inside of her but it didn’t scare or worry him.

“You feel like you Morrigan. There’s a hum of power beneath your skin and it just feels like home. It is new power but it doesn’t feel different. How do I say this,” he said into her hair. Pulling away slowly he looked into her eyes, “I’ve always seen a bit of Her Majesty in you. And maybe She saw that as well and that is why She entrusted this to you.”

Morrigan laughed rubbing her eye lightly, “That’s what My Queen said in not so many words.”

“Exactly. In all Her wisdom She knows far more than we do. So if she bestowed this upon you then it’s a power you are meant to wield. Just like this,” he looked down and touched the hilt of her katana. The weapon hummed in response but it didn’t lash out with its spikes.

Morrigan nodded slowly taking a deep breath, “It’s like you were inside the dream with me.”

He laughed kissing her, “I’ve been told that I am quite wise.”

“No one has ever said that about you Ben,” She kissed him one more time and stepped away to go sit on the bed and leaned back staring at the ground. “You’ve been learning from our Alistair.”

“He’s rubbed off on me in a good way.”

She was grateful for him again. The unease that had settled in her heart was starting to fade. She could breathe easier and even better she could think. She started to say something but stopped mid sentence listening. No that was the wrong word. Like a canary in a coal mine she was alerted. “We’re about to have company.”

“What?”

“Your Majesty. I request an audience,” the Harlequin said from beyond the tent and Morrigan smiled. That part of her new power wasn’t too unpleasant.

“You may enter.”

The front flap of the tent opened and the masked assassin arrived. She knelt in front of her, her head bowed and black ponytail swept to the side of her face. “Your Majesty I have come with news. Strange news.”

“Strange news?” Benidict repeated.

“Give me your report,” Morrigan ordered.

The Harlequin raised her head and looked at Morrigan, “The bandit that you call Vincent. He met with another of the bandits in the desert. And though the guards here don’t seem to have noticed it there was fighting. I was not able to see it with my own eyes but I know the feeling of magic being expended when I feel it. Vincent returned to the city gate but he was wreathed in magic. The other that he met with did not return. I know not what transpired in the desert but I thought it be fit to inform you.”

“You thought correct. You may go now,” Morrigan said frowning hard. The Harlequin bowed her head once more and then left.

“Vince isn’t a mage right?”

“No magical talent at all. What has the bandit gotten himself into.”

“At least we know it’s not the Ouroboros. Their eyes are set on broader horizons than this city.”

Morrigan was ready to agree when something stopped her. A flash of a memory, a woman covered in robes with no skin showing and bright eyes. Her hand against Morrigan’s own face and fading into sand. Old words of farewell echoing in her mind. A feeling of loss married to a sensation of mutual understanding.

“I believe we may have gotten that piece wrong.”

“Say more.”

“I had a,” she paused shaking her head through the haze of the memory. “Our Queen had a sister. That sister made her home the desert. There’s only one being that we know of that claims the desert as her home even remotely on this level.”

“The Free Lady. Wait she’s not just a superstition but a God?” Benidict said and Morrigan nodded. “And the Ouroboros are infiltrating the Free City using Vincent? How?”

“I don’t know. The Ouroboros were able to ensnare me. Maybe it’s Lust again. Or any of the others. We have to find him.”

“Agreed.”

They both broke out of the tent into the midday sun and the three Harlequin stood to attention around them. Morrigan looked at the trio of them and motioned to the two who were standing as guards. “Find your Troupe Master and Gest. Tell them that I need their assistance immediately.” They nodded and vanished going through the city. She looked toward the Harlequin that had arrived with her message. “Do you know the whereabouts of Vincent this instant?”

“No but I know where to begin looking,” she said swiftly.

“Show us.”

She nodded and broke into a run, Morrigan and Benidiict following behind her. She hoped that Vincent was simply possessed, that was something that they could handle. Or at the very least they could restrain him until the others returned and then they could figure out what to do with him. But she had a feeling in the back of her mind that this was worse than that.

She could see Alison in her mind if he was dead. See the response she would have to that and even more so Penny’s reaction to that. The demon had almost killed her when she was perceived as a threat to Vincent. She couldn’t imagine what the demon would do to the world at large if he was killed. And beyond all of that she had grown fond of Vincent. He was a friend and she had few of those in this world.

As the three of them moved, Morrigan felt as if they weren’t the only ones running. She looked to her left and then to her but it was just them. And then she looked at the sky and saw her sprinting across the air. The woman in her robes, her head arching forward before disappearing into the distance.

She watched the woman move and the woman looked down at Morrigan. For a moment Morrigan wasn’t running. She was floating in the sky beside her the part of Cerise’s queen calling out to her. Morrigan wanted to ask the woman what she knew when she jerked backward her glowing eyes shutting in pain.

She let out a cry that echoed in Morrigan’s mind and she was suddenly back in her body. Morrigan almost tripped trying to keep her footing as pain wracked her mind. She regained her footing and they slowed near the gate. The Harlequin jumped onto the wall and turned around, eyes catching as much of the city as she could. Morrigan and Benidict stopped short and the Harlequin came down.

“I cannot see him but something is happening in an open area. There are no tents or people but I can sense magic being channeled.”

“That sounds like the proving grounds,” Benidict said and Morrigan nodded. “Go find the other Harlequin and tell them to meet us at the proving grounds.”

“I cannot abandon Her Majesty with such danger present,” the Harlequin stated.

“You aren’t. I’ll be with her,” Benidict said and his eyes turned to low glowing red as he touched his blade. “Now go.”

She looked to Morrigan who was already nodding and turned her back to the assassin. Benidict followed her and had to break into a sprint as she ran. When he caught up he huffed glancing her way, “What’s with the hurry? This is about more than rescuing Vincent.”

“My sister is in danger and I won’t let her be taken without a fight,” she said quickly and Benidict almost double taked. But Morrigan didn’t elaborate nor did she dwell on it. Her eyes were glowing a red much deeper than he’d seen before. It as if her eyes had become blood with a fire lit beneath the surface. He’d only seen something like that once before and it was in Her Majesty during the Calamity.

Morrigan darted through the openings between a few tents and buildings ignoring the majority of protest she got. But even this was still too slow. She crouched low to the ground and then jumped, springing high into the air. She sailed far above the tents and the city itself seeing it for what it was. Such a vast handmade city that was the envy of any city in the Sanctum or Noria.

At the present, the proving grounds were empty save for a single shape sitting in the dirt but another was there walking toward them. And above them was the floating shape of the woman. She couldn’t see her clearly but she could feel that she was in pain. As she approached though she passed through something in the air, like passing through a veil of water.

Her legs buckled as she landed and she rolled forward but the pain was nonexistent. Before now she would have at the very least stumbled but in this instance, she was able to keep running. Looking over her shoulder she could see the thin veil that she’d past through, “A barrier? Why?”

Now that she was closer she saw that it was in fact Vincent crouched on the ground. Standing over him though was the towering figure of Boss. As she got closer she could see that Vincent had his hand outstretched grasping one of Boss’s arms. Boss had a confused look on his face but his eyes were closed.

“I don’t know about this one Vince. Are you sure it’ll work?” Boss asked in his thundering tone. “Maybe we should call Poppy or one of the elders.”

Vincent scowled but shook his head, “Trust me Boss. Alison showed me this one herself. You want to hear from the Free Lady, this is how we do it” Vincent peaked his eye open slightly as he stared at Morrigan. “There you are. Hey Morrigan you want to come and lend us a hand?”

Morrigan approached and drew her sword. She lunged forward and Vincent jumped backward to avoid getting cut and put distance between the two of them. He looked at her eyes wide, “What the hell are you doing Morrigan?” he asked sharply.

“Shut up,” she said pointing the katana his way. “I already know what you are.”

Vincent blinked turning his surprise into confusion, “What are you talking about?”

“Shut up,” she leaped forward swinging her blade and Vincent drew his own blocking the attack. She swung again moving fast, her sword a blur of movement and Vincent was immediately on the back foot. He hopped back putting distance between them again stumbling down onto his knee. Morrigan lunged thrusting the sword forward.

Instead of connecting it deflected off the round shield against Boss’s arm. Morrigan’s eyes widened as she looked at him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said looking at her closely. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two but this isn’t the way to resolve it.”

Morrigan snarled at him, whipping her arm to the side and knocking his arm wide. She jumped forward and kicked Boss in the chest. He stumbled back coughing back his pain and she noted the fact that he was still standing. For a regular man he was tough. “Stay out of my way.”

She turned back to Vincent as he got back to his feet. “I don’t know what I did to piss you off Morrigan but we can talk this one out.”

“Quit your games,” she growled. “I’m not going to hear more lies.”

She lunged again and Vincent ducked, diving away from her. This time though he brought out his gun and fired. They had sparred in the past so Morrigan knew about the weapon but this was her first time truly putting up with it. Her sword deflected bullets quickly but one in the shadow of the other hit her shoulder.

Vincent whirled around shooting again aimed at her legs. She jumped over it but he flipped his arm up and fired at her in the air. It caught her in the leg and she crashed into the ground. But when she landed she looked at her leg and shoulder there was no wound. The bullet that hit fell to the ground crushed as if it hit steel. Vincent reloaded the gun and held his sword in front of him defensively.

“That clear your head a bit?” he asked and she snarled at him. “I guess not.”

Boss moved and grabbed Vincent’s wrist looking at him. “You’ve made your point. Talk this out. You two are friends. No need to push this further than it has already gone.”

“Get away from him!” Morrigan shouted. “You don’t know what’s he doing!”

Boss looked her way and that was when he struck. Vincent’s sword moved in a flash of light and suddenly Boss’s forearm was on the ground. His blood spurted into the air and his shout echoed. With his free hand Vincent thrust his arm through Boss’s chest and he jerked, convulsing around his hand. He dragged it back letting Boss fall to the ground, his arm soaked in viscera. Swinging his arm down the blood flew creating a rough circle on the ground that glowed with power once it was completed.

Morrigan flipped her sword and the blade of it glowed at her command as if she’d covered it with her own blood. “Blessings from Her Majesty,” she whispered and raced at him. Vincent turned and swung the sword at her chest. Before it could hit her Benidict appeared, deflecting the blade on his own.

“That’s not our Vincent, right?” he asked.

Morrigan shook her head. “No. He fights like him but that’s not our bandit.”

“Then where,” he began to ask then shook his head making a thin line with his mouth. “I fear the answer to that question.”

Morrigan snarled, “If he’s dead I’ll have this imposters head.”

The Harlequin appeared around Vincent while Gest stood beside Morrigan. Gest stared at Vincent and then his eyes darted to Boss and finally to the circle. “A ritual has started, a soul is soon to be departed.”

“The soul of the Free Lady,” the Troupe Master said. “We have to stop it before it’s begun.” He whistled and drew a long dagger. The others drew their own knives and darted at Vincent.

Vincent looked around at each of them and dropped down stabbing the sword into the ground. He made a motion with his free hand and the ground rumbled. Four blades broke from the dirt underneath the Harlequin like spikes. One Harlequin was slow to step and the spike moved finding his heart and pinning his body to the ground.

Another pair were slow as well but avoided a fatal blow, the blade cutting across their shoulders. The Troupe Master was the fastest though and blocked the blade, deflecting it and going low cutting the spike off cleanly and continued forward. Vincent made a face and dragged the sword free again moving to block the Troupe Master.

The Troupe Master laughed as he attacked, leaping and dashing around the imposter bandit. His sword play was strange, like performing on a tight rope above a crowd. Balancing on his toes, twirling along the tight rope and then diving across the maw below without a safety net below his feet.

Vincent was able to keep pace with the first few swings but then the other two joined into the performance and suddenly he was no longer on par. One Harlequin would feint an attack and then back away, while the other jumped off their back and attacked from another angle. Finally, the Troupe Master would then descend from the sky demanding his full attention to keep his head on his shoulders. To keep track of one was to invite death from another.

Vincent broke away from the tangle of assassins when he heard it on the wind. A forlorn twang of noise. And then another. The rapid plucking of fingers on strings mixed with the soft screech of a bow. With his instrument in the crook of his neck Gest played one of his instruments his back to the fight, the music growing loud.

Vincent brought his gun around ready to shoot when he was suddenly falling sideways, his shoulder crashing into the ground. He tried to get back to his feet but all sense of balance abandoned him and he rolled backward like a drunken fool. He managed to get a look skyward and watched the Harlequin descend from the sky.

“Enough of this!” he shouted and his form glowed with deep violet light. But behind that light was a physical force that slashed through the air like angry whips. They struck the Harlequin out of the air and a single slash snapped one of the strings on Gest’s instrument. Benidict and Morrigan both covered their faces under the onslaught.

Morrigan narrowed her eyes through the light as it finally faded. Vincent was gone replaced by a man with a long black beard. His clothes had turned to black robes that were long enough to hide his hands. But it was the eyes that caught her attention, or rather the lack thereof. Just empty black pits where eyes should have been but something about them sent a shiver down her spine. He looked at his gun and sword before discarding them.

He clapped his hands together and chains erupted from the circle into the air. They hung loose in the air and then tightened on seemingly nothing. The chains glowed bright violet and the Free Lady appeared within the chains, visible to everyone instead of just Morrigan.

“Stop him!” Morrigan shouted.

Before any could move, he raised a hand and tossed a thin mist of white power into the air. “Rise,” he commanded.

Boss let out a strangled cry and the former Harlequin rolled to their knees engulfed in the fell light. And then they stood hunched over with the same light glowing from the pits of their eyes. Boss picked up his fallen arm and reattached it like it was nothing. Beyond them, a growing legion of skeletons materialized out of the mist flanking the two zombies. The necromancer pointed and they surged forward.