8​ An Undead Love

DESPITE THE SPEED with which the Necropolis had fallen, the undead were never easy to kill. Many of the traitors lay dead, bodies charred or blistered. Others lay shrivelled up with their eyeballs popped like overripe fruit.

Nothing remained but death. It seemed impossible, but there had been traitors hidden among the students and the Necros guards. The surviving mages, and any who’d remained loyal, must have fought their way clear.

‘Bastards are everywhere,’ he muttered. They’d made it as far as the main courtyard, but had found themselves trapped. The rebel mobs had moved on in the last few minutes, but that didn’t make them safer. They didn’t know where the wights had gone to; they could still be out there, watching, unseen. If they tried to cross open space in daylight, they’d surely be spotted.

‘Psst!’ hissed a voice in his ear.

Taver waited for his heart to quit hammering. ‘I told you, don’t do that,’ he hissed.

They’d spent the last few hours hiding where they could, beneath dead bodies at one point. It was the wights they’d come to fear, and Tezcat had stopped using magic. Taver crouched beside his friend, watching for any sign of movement. Nothing, but that only made it worse; the wights could appear from anywhere.

‘Which way does we go?’ she asked.

‘We’ll never make it to Reaper’s,’ he said, ‘not without being able to fight back. We don’t have Beezer or Lyrin ... unless you can do something?’

‘I can’t, you knows I can’t. They’ll knows if I does.’

‘I guess we’ll have to travel at night then. Hope for the best.’ He doubted darkness would impede those ghost wight things, but what else could they do? They’d gotten left behind, and it was all his fault.

‘I knows someone what can help us,’ she whispered.

He glanced at her, crouched next to him within a fallen but intact portion of one of the towers. Dust coated them both; her dusky grey skin was now white. Not that it would help hide them if they encountered another of those things. The main gates were being watched, so they needed another way out. Ahead, across the wide courtyard, which was some fifty feet in diameter, rebels smashed in doors and set fire to buildings. On this side, all was quiet. The mob had killed or burnt everything in sight, or thought they had.

‘What are those ghosts anyway? I mean, where’d they come from? Some sort of undead magic?’

‘Dead angels,’ she whispered, ‘and they is called wights. Ghosts is just dead breathers, stupid.’

‘Oh, I see.’ Angels could die?

‘I’s too weak to fight ’em.’

‘I know. It’s okay.’ He paused, letting what she’d said sink in. ‘Since when do angels die by the way?’

She fiddled with a piece of mortar, crumbling it between her fingers. ‘I heard once that they is attracted to blood. Breather mages uses blood, to control ’em and stuff. Just whats I heard, but it don’t matter. They is here, and they is deathly.’

‘You mean, deadly,’ he said, feeling in full agreement.

‘No,’ she said, shooting him a glare. ‘I meant, deathly, and quit correctin’ me all o’ the time. I knows I isn’t good with words.’

‘Oh, sorry.’ He gave a slight shake of his head, feeling worried. Tezcat was never this tense. ‘At least there’s no sign of them now.’ The wights were the main reason they hadn’t gotten any further. If the creatures were no longer in the vicinity, they stood a chance. We need to avoid notice until dark. Just until then.

He thought of Rade and wondered if she lived. His last words to her had been in anger, which he regretted. A capable woman, and he guessed she could take care of herself. He’d begun to doubt she’d had anything to do with it all. I mean, how could she have? Still, he had a sick feeling in his stomach.

He leaned to one side and shifted the hilt of the sword he’d belted to his waist. It was jutting into his abdomen. He’d filched it from a corpse, not that he knew much about blades. It was why he hadn’t drawn it, for fear he’d cut himself. Twice he’d thought about tossing it away. Having it made him feel better, not that it would stop a wight.

‘Beezer’ll do ’em real good,’ she said, ‘you’ll see. He’ll boil their bones for soup, he will. He’ll roast their livers and pickle their eyes—’

‘Keep your voice down.’

‘He’ll kill ’em all,’ she whispered, ‘you’ll see. Breathers is nothin’ but trouble.’

He decided to ignore that last, and not point out that wights were a different problem altogether. No need getting into an argument when they were trying to avoid notice.

‘They’s just stupid breathers,’ she insisted again.

‘I’m a stupid breather,’ he whispered.

‘You is different.’

‘You mean a different sort of stupid?’

‘Yeah,’ she said with a serious nod.

He returned his gaze to the rebels across the courtyard. Once the rebels left, they would make a run for it. The sun had fallen below the horizon, dusk settling like a thin blanket. ‘Where’d you say we’ll find this friend of yours, the one who can help us?’

‘Nisky Pole is hers name,’ Tezcat replied. ‘We needs to get to the village. I knows where she’ll be at. She’s lived among breathers for decades.’

‘She’s a viral?’

Tezcat nodded.

‘Well, how come I’ve never heard of her? She’s never been to the Necropolis, has she?’

‘She’s Beezer’s ol’ girlfriend.’

He felt his jaw drop open, and clamped it shut. What was Beezer’s ex doing in Vasara? He didn’t like the idea of heading back to the village, but if this Nisky could help, they needed her.

‘Wait,’ he said. ‘You saying the undead can have, um, girlfriends and boyfriends and stuff?’

Tezcat gave him a wry look.

Well, how was I supposed to know? he thought. Not like I’ve seen them holding hands or going on romantic walks, or Spectrum forbid, kissing! ‘Well, won’t she have left with the others by now?’

‘Nisk isn’t like them,’ she whispered. ‘She’s got her husband to looks out for.’

First, an ex-boyfriend and now a husband? It was a side of the undead he’d never heard of, or contemplated. ‘You certain she’s undead, I mean, no beating heart and with bits falling off?’

Another look, but this time of exasperation.

‘Sorry, okay, not all of you are falling apart. What difference does her having a husband make? Wouldn’t she have taken him along with her?’ Might have been a bit awkward I suppose, meeting the ex-boyfriend who happens to be the most powerful mage in existence.

‘Her husband’s a breather, like you is. You knows what I means, beating heart, pumping blood, all awkwards and scaredy and stuff?’

Right, I deserved that.

‘The Necrop’ didn’t like it, so she lives with him at the village. She don’t bothers them, and they doesn’t bothers her.’

‘Oh, I see.’ I guess it was love or something. Could they love, like the living? He’d never wondered about this stuff. He glanced at her, and wondered some more. What would it be like? After all, it wasn’t like she was full dead. He’d heard about that sort of thing. Then again, it wasn’t like she was alive either. His feelings for her were complicated, and until now, he’d never examined them. It wasn’t as though he was in love with her, but he did enjoy her company. It was just friendship, he supposed. One thing he knew for certain, he wouldn’t allow any harm come to her.

Across the courtyard, it had grown quiet. Dusk had deepened. Crawling out and getting to his feet, he hauled her after him. With a shove, he set her running while keeping to the deepest shadows.

She scurried towards an archway and a set of stairs. Flames licked the building from several windows and doorways, but the tenement ahead seemed untouched.

They crept up the steps to a door, as silent as they could manage. He knew her sight was better than his, and so he let her lead. Their feet kicked through rubbish littering the servants’ tenement, and Taver was certain they’d be heard or spotted. Bashed in doors and wooden shutters allowed in a faint grey light. They discovered several apartments aflame towards the back of the building to their right, and they hurried down the hallway in the opposite direction.

‘We isn’t staying in here, is we?’ Tezcat asked, with a glance through one dark doorway. It smelled like death in there.

Taver shook his head. ‘No, we need a way out beyond the wall.’ He’d thought about climbing it since the main gates were watched, but it was too risky even in darkness. The enemy would surely be on the lookout for stragglers trying to escape. ‘I think there’s another exit.’ The flames were spreading and in the light of the fires, he spotted a stairs heading down. There were two bodies sprawled at the top. An elderly woman and man, both gutted. They stepped past and made their way into the tenement’s bowels.

Eventually they emerged behind the building and discovered a small yard. Beyond it, a high wall, the one surrounding the Necropolis complex. Spotting a servant’s entrance, a small rusty gate, they rushed towards it. It stood open and unguarded. Taver smiled.

***

VASARA SEEMED DESERTED. They had run most of the eight miles to reach the village. Virals didn’t need to breathe, but Taver did. He stood with hands on wobbly knees, sucking in deep breaths. Night had fallen, but there were numerous fires in the streets, and at the small harbour. He insisted on checking there, but there wasn’t one vessel left. The wooden jetties were aflame, where they weren’t already blackened stumps in the water. It was too dark to see if the ships were still out there. If they were, they’d lit no torches.

With Tezcat tugging at his sleeve, he relented and they resumed their search for Beezer’s old girlfriend. A deep fog had curled in from the coast to tickle them with damp fingers. It mingled with the smoke, and Taver found himself spluttering before they’d gotten far. The village appeared abandoned with the surviving citizens headed to Reaper’s End, or dead.

Without warning, a shape loomed out of the fog and they both froze. A woman with long brown hair and a hooked nose materialised. With a furtive glance up and down the street, she gestured for them to join her. Tezcat rushed to her side without hesitation, so Taver guessed this was Nisky, though she didn’t look undead. He checked the sword at his waist, hoping he’d never need to use it, and followed.

They entered an alley behind some buildings, then through a tall wrought-iron gate, which divided the alley in two. It squealed as Nisky shoved it open. Dead rats and the week-old corpse of a dog littered this area, which was illuminated by the glow of nearby fires. As they reached the alley’s end, she turned. Up close, he noticed the heavy makeup and the signs of decay underneath. She’d gone to great lengths to hide what she was.

‘We have a request to make of you,’ he said. ‘Cat thinks you can handle those wights.’

‘I doesn’t thinks it,’ said Tezcat. ‘I knows it. Right, Nisk?’

The undead woman’s face turned sour, but she did not reply.

Tezcat took her hand, and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Nisk’ll save us. I knows she will.’

As Tezcat drew back, the side of Nisky’s skull sprouted a bronze arrow head. Another took her right in the chest. Two more struck Tezcat, who flinched. Nisky was on the move, heading for a nearby door. It looked to be a rear entrance. Tezcat shoved past Taver to face their attackers, as he attempted to remove the arrows from her back, while hoping none struck him. He couldn’t shrug off an arrow wound as easily as they could.

A group of Necros traitors stood at the other end. Two of the Necros had bows and were in the process of nocking more arrows. He wanted to get Tezcat inside, but he waited. He had spotted the tendrils of dark power emanating from her, touch the littered earth. He held his breath, mesmerized as he always was by her power.

The dead dog lurched to its feet, strips of flesh hanging from its bones. It had died of a weeping sickness, and the rats had fed on it until they too had died, or so he imagined. His mind was racing with all sorts of ridiculous thoughts, a strange energy feeding his muscles, his mind.

Then the rats stirred. One by one, they twitched, rose, and joined the dog. The reanimated creature, with their rotting wet flesh and patches of fur, attacked the rebels. The soldiers stabbed at the creatures, but to no avail. The archers dropped their bows and drew daggers instead, but then hesitated and fled. The other traitors followed suit. Tezcat sauntered back to take Taver’s hand in hers. At least none of them had been wights.

Nisky was by the door to what must have been her home, prodding the arrow in her skull. With a snap, she removed the shaft, and then the bronze head, leaving a ragged hole.

Ouch! No amount of makeup, he thought, is going to hide that one.

Tezcat giggled, likely thinking something similar. He pulled both arrows out of her shoulder with a strong tug.

‘We should get inside,’ he suggested, ‘you know, before any more come?’

Nisky stared back up the alleyway. Taver followed her gaze, and at first saw nothing, but then did a double-take. He groaned. My big stupid mouth. What appeared to be fog at first, took the shape of four figures.

‘Get inside,’ cried Nisky, ‘the both of you!’

They rushed through the door, which Nisky slammed shut and barred. She turned to them, just visible in the light of a single-wick lamp sat in the corner on a small table. ‘We must prepare.’

‘For what?’ asked Tezcat.

‘Why, my dear,’ she said in a husky voice, ‘to fight back. You wish to reach Reaper’s End, and you need my help to get there, right? You should have left with the others. Well, it looks as though I can no longer remain either. So, I will ... I ... will—’

Taver took a step back, bumping against the wall. The undead woman convulsed and then collapsed to the floor. Something large began to extricate itself from her body. Then, as she thrashed about, she began screaming.

‘What is happening?’ he cried. His voice was more high-pitched than he’d intended, but the woman’s screeches drowned out most of it, so there was that.

Tezcat sat on the floor beside Nisky, watching. ‘Oh, don’t worry. She’s peppering, like what she said, ’member?’

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I remember.’ He began to wonder if he wasn’t better off outside with the wights after all.