Isaacremembered, as a boy, the first time he had crafted an elixir in his uncle’slaboratory.He had sprinkled the wrong reagent, and the solution had grownacidic, and the steam had fermented into a ghastly purple fog, one that seemedto reach and pull for any expendable material within its grasp, like the soulswere doing now.Their limbs were wispy and feeble.
He tooka calming breath.
Backthen, when his uncle had come to investigate, Isaac had prepared to be struck.After the initial moment of rage, Berith had surveyed the damage to hisbeakers, and his face had softened, and he had told Isaac that the equipmentwas trivial to replace, and, in fact, Berith himself had made the same mistakewhen he was his age, so he was only glad that Isaac had not breathed thecaustic fumes.The young boy had been shocked at the kindness.He had been evenmore surprised when Berith proceeded to spend the rest of the day in the lab,running through different experiments, giving close instruction, showing Isaacthe proper way to brew mixtures that glowed and sparkled with magic.They hadlaughed, and joked, and played.
Now,through the pipework and blinding light, he caught glimpses of movement.Between the machinery, there was the flowing of robes, the shadows of amarching army.There were at least thirty sigils, each of them signifying thecontrol of a puppeteer.More than once, he thought he saw a shaved head overblackened robes, a body so shrouded in darkness it seemed to lack any substanceat all.
Isaaclistened to the cries of the dead, feeling both pity and rage.
“Right,”Zaria said, peering down next to him.“This looks proper fucked and all, butwe’re storming this cock like a gods-damned castle.Aye, lads?”
“It’san obelisk,” he replied.“There are carvings—”
“Silence,squire.It’s long, hard, ‘tween the legs, and exactly where we’re gonna kickyour uncle.”She turned to face them, the soul light illuminating the fur ofher neck.“I appreciate you lot got more magic than I do, but I’ve fought alotta battles.Mud and guts sorta thing.Anyone got objections to me takingcommand?”
Isaacshook his head.On the wall, Caine pushed out a tentacle of legs, shaking itlike a tongue.
Zariaglanced down the length of the obelisk.“We’re treating this like propersoldiers.Ranks and divisions.”She pointed at Caine.“You’re gonna be lightinfantry.You’ll engage close as you can, keep his slaves occupied, soakin’ up their fire.You got a lotta chaff to lose, soyou’ll be best to take the hits.”
Cainetwisted his embedded skulls towards Isaac, gasping.
“Berithis a necromancer,” Isaac said.“He has anti-necrotics, and he can take controlof the bones themselves.My father won’t be much help against him.”
Cainenodded all his faces.
“Aye,”Zaria said, “not your uncle directly.I’m speaking of his thralls.They onlygot ice and fire.You don’t stay to get slaughtered—you cleave yourself apart,attack from all sides, rush at them quick and scuttle on back.The goal is toskirmish.Keep them off-balance and distracted.It ain’t a sacrifice.”
Caineraised a skull upon a stalk of vertebrae, gazing down the length of the tower.Its jaw clattered in apprehension.
“Wouldyou rather expose your son?”
Thebones flinched, the skull jerking first to Isaac, then Zaria.It swung fromside to side.
“Soyou’ll do it, then?”the hyena asked.
Theskull rose the wall, and five different arms emerged from the mass, all of themslapping their fingers against the bony forehead in a chaotic attempt at asalute.Below, two heaps of bone sloughed onto the stairs, quickly twistinginto the shape of beasts.
“Squire,”Zaria said, turning, “you’re the artillery.While your father’s drawing theirattention, you’ll be picking ‘em off at a distance.Snipe your uncle if youcan, but focus on the thralls.If they’re his energy, they’re his ammunition.Take away his ammo, and he’s got naught to fire with.”
Isaacdid not particularly like the idea of killing his fellow students of magic, buthe could not argue against the necessity.“What will you do?”
“Me?”She hefted her poleaxe into both hands.“I’m your bodyguard.If he tries tocome for you, I’ll chop him to bits.My job’s to keep you safe and doing yoursquirely duties.Sound good?”
Hemanaged a smile.“No other way I’d like it, Z.”
“Right,then.”She raised her axe overhead.“Let’s conquer this cock!”
Cainetook the lead, his shuffling creatures leaping and spilling over the pipework,his central mass crawling down the wall of the obelisk, moving like rain onglass.At the side, there was a spiral staircase winding into the earth, themist of souls slightly obscuring the path.Isaac took the stairs at a marchingpace, the feel of Zaria’s heavy footfalls behind giving him strength andcourage.
Hepatted the dagger in his pocket, just to make sure it was there.
As theydescended, the screams grew louder.Purple fog seemed to condense in theirwake, grasping for them, the shifting haze holding the residual shape of armsand hands.In the central glass pillar, thick clouds of souls collected aroundtheir position, following their progress.Isaac had never heard the language ofthe necromancers spoken aloud, but he imagined he could hear it now, throughthe ghostly wails and whispering moans.The timbre of the voices began toshift.He did not need a translator to know the souls were begging to be freed.
Hecould do nothing for them.
Notyet.
Beforelong, the sounds of combat began to pierce the screams.There was a shatteringof ice, the hollow clatter of bone.Through the pipework, Isaac glimpsedmovement and light, the shadow of falling bodies.He leaned over the edge ofthe winding staircase, staring down the length of the obelisk.The mnemonicscame easily.Berith had drilled the motions deep into his mind, all with shoutsand strikes and pain.
