A Soul For Trouble

Chapter 13

When Dev saw the first cracks in the ice surrounding the Necromancer, he ran toward Trouble as fast as he could with his injured leg. Magic illuminated the fissures forming in the ice, and the resulting explosion catapulted fist-sized chunks through the air. He dropped his sword and dove for her, but he couldn't get to her before one of the blocks connected with her temple. Her eyes widened for a second before they rolled back, and she collapsed into the mud.

He shielded her from the rest of the debris with his body and his magic, exhaling with relief when he felt her warm breath on his hand. He still couldn't believe what he'd just seen. Trouble, the little slip of a barmaid he'd rescued less than a week ago, had turned the Necromancer's army into statues of ice. Of course, she didn't do it alone. Her eyes glowed bright yellow-green while she cast, and her voice deepened when she recited the incantation. Loku had seized control of her.

His shields buckled, and he looked up. Even though the rain had stopped for the moment, lightning still illuminated the sky and the face of their enemy. The scar that ran along the Necromancer's left cheek added a new level of sinister to his snarl.

"Give her to me," he whispered.

"You'll have to kill me first."

Shadows emerged from the darkness around them. "I won't have to, mage. The Ranellians will do that for me. You know how low their tolerance for magic is."

"So you can expect the same treatment from them."

The Necromancer laughed, sending a chill into the very core of Dev's body. "Sooner or later, I always get what I want." He produced a dagger from under the folds of his cloak and held it out for Dev to examine. The same dagger that killed Robb.

The memory of his failure tore at him like a barbed whip. He lifted his body, muscles poised to spring, but stopped himself. The Necromancer wanted him to lower his shields and attack. That was the only way he could get to Trouble. He cradled her in his arms, pulling her closer to his chest. Whatever happened to him, he refused to let her suffer the same fate as the prior Soulbearer. "As long as my shield holds, no one will hurt her."

"And how long will it hold with your leg bleeding like that?" The Necromancer's hand tightened around the dagger's hilt. "I can feel your magic weakening with each beat of your heart."

The Ranellians circled them, coming close enough to where he could see the stark lines of their features in the night.

The Necromancer ignored them. "As long as my shield holds, we can continue this stalemate for days, Protector."

Dev sized up the humans. He needed to make sure they were on his side. "And who do you think they'd attack first? You, who ordered the undead to attack them? Or me, who came to their aid?"

"The law of the kingdom still stands." He inched closer so that his shield butted against Dev's. "King Heodis is not known for his mercy."

From the crowd, a voice replied, "And I intend to carry out the King's justice."

Steel flashed through the air and sliced through the Necromancer's wrist. His screams echoed off the trees as his hand fell to the ground, the fingers still clutching the hilt of the dagger. Before the Ranellian could come in for another attack, red magic exploded from the Necromancer's other hand, knocking all the humans to the ground.

"Tell Arden I look forward to seeing her again soon," he growled as his body faded into mist.

The Ranellian responsible for cutting off the Necromancer's hand jumped to his feet and swung his sword through the shadowy remnants left behind, dispersing them into the wind. "What the hell just happened?"