Dirge for a Necromancer - By Ash Stinson Page 0,80
I can’t do that. I refuse to do that. I killed him. I killed him, and even while I watched him burn to death and he screamed for mercy and begged me to put out the fire, I didn’t feel sorry—not for a moment. And afterward when I grabbed his soul as it was departing and tied it back to his corpse and he began to scream again as the pain rushed into him, I didn’t even pity him. I will not make apologies and say I made a wrong decision, and make myself a liar.”
Looking over his shoulder at Raettonus, Slade narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?” he asked. “You’re not the boy I knew. You’re like something that’s only inhabiting his skin. You’re a demon.”
“You don’t mean that,” said Raettonus, his eyes widening and his resolve breaking. He felt as though the air had been knocked out of him. “You can’t mean that…”
“I no longer feel like going to that feast,” Slade said, turning his back to Raettonus. “Please leave me.”
“Master, I—”
“Leave,” said Slade. His voice was hard.
Raettonus spun and slammed the door as he exited. Furiously, he kicked open the door to his own cell and closed it hard enough to splinter it around the lock. Rage boiling inside him, Raettonus kicked over his brazier and tore the half-burned tapestry on his wall to the ground. Fire danced across his shoulders onto his hands as he felt all his bitterness churn in his stomach. His magical fatigue was suddenly gone, replaced with a powerful, hateful rage.
With a scream, he grabbed hold of the remaining tapestry and burned it to cinders, and when it was nothing but ash he found himself wishing only that ashes could be burned. He grabbed the unicorn figure from his desk and hurled it at the wall, shattering it. The little white pieces of it were like a shower of sparks as they fell onto the coals of the overturned brazier, catching the light and glinting. The gryphon and the phoenix followed close behind their fallen comrade, exploding into a glittering swirl of splinters as they struck the wall.
Teeth clenched, face contorted with rage, he kicked a pile of coals spilt from the brazier, sending them hurtling across the room so they fell like orange hail on the books and clothes and papers on the floor and burned holes in them. He punched at the wall with all his strength, tearing the skin on his knuckles and leaving them bloody. Without really knowing why he was doing it, he knocked all the stacks of books and the little bottles of ink and herbs from his desk. The vials clattered on the stone floor and shattered, and black ink spread out around the glass like blood.
It was only when his rage began to subside that he realized he was crying. He slid down a wall into a crouching position and buried his face in his hands. He was still hot with fury, and his tears were turning to steam in his eyes. He looked around his room, all a mess, and saw his dagger lying beneath his desk, beside the wall, where it must have fallen.
Bitterly, he laughed.
Chapter Thirteen
Diahsis’ feast was the height of revelry, full of bawdy singing and roughhousing and loud conversations all throughout the hall, which had been cleaned and decorated in yellow, blue, and green for the occasion. The general sat at the head of the longest table with Deggho at his right and gave Raettonus a seat at his left. Daeblau stood near them with Dohrleht, but Maeleht wasn’t there—he had become especially faint, his brother said, and Ebha didn’t think it would be a good idea for him to tax himself too much. Brecan joined them just as Raettonus thought he would and took his place right beside the magician.
“Oh, hey, Raet!” exclaimed Brecan as he drew close. “You cut your hair! You haven’t cut your hair in ages.”
Raettonus shrugged. “I like it better short,” he mumbled into his goblet of wine.
“Then why do you keep it long?” asked the unicorn, cocking his head to the side.
“Stop asking questions and let me drink in peace,” said Raettonus, punching Brecan in the nose.
The unicorn winced. “Oh, okay, Raet,” he said, turning to his other side to talk to a cheery, boisterous centaur with a thick, Tahlehson accent. Raettonus turned his attention to Diahsis, who was drinking merrily and laughing with Deggho about something one of them had said.