The Necromancer’s Light by Tavia Lark
❧
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Shae
The Radiant Order’s camp is one of the most disconcerting places Shae has ever been, and he’s spent more time than most people in graveyards and mausoleums. Everyone around him has the same sun-bright aura as Arthur, to varying degrees. But unlike Arthur, they all stare at him with cold distrust.
The woman, Freya, leads him to a wide awning that covers a cookfire, supplies, and a few small tables. He sits at one of the tables as directed and tries not to make eye contact with anyone. It’s easy. Everyone else is avoiding his gaze too.
He thought he was used to the glares and whispers everywhere he turns. Somehow it hurts more than it used to. Maybe that’s his fault. He’s avoided opening himself up to people for so long, until he met Arthur.
Of course, these are all Arthur’s friends. Arthur fits in with them, and he doesn’t realize they’re being assholes to Shae because they aren’t assholes to him. Because people treat people like Arthur differently than they treat people like Shae.
Maybe it’s fair. Necromancy isn’t pretty. But it still hurts.
Even though he knows it’s a stupid, telling habit, he can’t stop fiddling with his rings. There’s more than enough ambient human warmth around to keep him from getting cold, but his stomach still twists with anxiety having Arthur out of sight. He doesn’t like the way Captain Tanner looked at him. He doesn’t like the way any of them looked at him.
Quiet voices catch his attention. Bernard and Freya talking just outside the mess tent. Shae strains to listen, but he can’t make out any words. Every so often, they glance towards him.
After a moment, Freya claps Bernard on the shoulder and walks off. Bernard tosses his ridiculous cloak back and strides towards Shae. “Necromancer,” he says, sitting down across from Shae. He’s smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Paladin,” Shae says coolly.
But Bernard’s next statement surprises him. “Sorry about earlier, by the way. Things have been a little high-tension with order business. You didn’t hear this from me, but we have reason to think Vizia’s involved with dark magic. So, when I saw a dark mage in the middle of Lanwatch...”
The apology knocks him off-kilter, even if it’s followed by excuses. Bernard doesn’t seem the type to justify himself to someone like Shae. “Arthur’s told me a bit about him,” Shae says. “But I don’t work with other dark mages, or thieves.”
“That’s great.” Bernard looks over his shoulder, then leans in. “You and Arthur seem pretty close, huh.”
Shae’s eyes narrow. “I hired him for a job. He’s been helpful.”
Bernard laughs. “Helpful. Yeah, that’s Arthur.” He looks over his shoulder again. “Look. I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I care about Arthur. We’re close. I’ve known him since he joined up, and he’s a good man. He just has one problem.”
Shae can’t help asking, just like he knows Bernard wants him to, “What is it?”
The last traces of humor fall from Bernard’s face. He looks at Shae with the same disgust as when he first laid eyes on him in the inn. “He has terrible taste in men, and it’s going to ruin his career.” He stands up, towering over Shae. “If you care about him at all, and I think you do, well. Consider whether dragging him down is worth it.”
He sweeps away, cloak billowing, before Shae can say anything in reply. Before Shae’s heart stops racing, before his mind stops spinning. Because Bernard is an asshole, no doubt about that. But maybe he’s not wrong about this.
Shae’s still reeling when he hears Arthur’s voice. He bolts from the mess tent to find Arthur outside the captain’s tent, talking with her and Freya. He looks up immediately when he sees Shae.
“Are you done here?” Shae asks, ignoring the other paladins.
Arthur’s smile is strained. “Hey, can we talk for a second?”
Shae’s heart sinks. A thousand scenarios rush through his mind, and all of them boil down to this: now that Arthur has his fellow paladins, he doesn’t want Shae anymore. Aware of the distrustful glares around him, Shae falls back on his usual mask of indifference. “Of course.”
Arthur leads him towards their horses, tethered at the edge of camp. Duchess nuzzles Arthur’s chest, and Sparrow continues grazing unconcerned. Shae feels like he’s walking through an echoing dream, like there’s a veil of anxiety between him and the ordinary world. He doesn’t belong here. Arthur does.
“Is there any way we can stay here a couple days?” Arthur asks.
Shae’s heart sinks further. It’s not an outright rejection, but it doesn’t need to be. He’s not an idiot, and he can see where this is going. “I can’t.”
“Just a few days. Captain Tanner wants me to help capture Ronan.” He takes Shae’s hands and holds them. The sheer sun-bright heat of him floods into Shae’s cold fingers. “My trial’s at the end of the month, and it’s not going to go well if I don’t have something big to show for it.”
Shae yanks his hands away. He can’t think when Arthur’s touching him. “What about banishing a demon? That seems pretty big to me.”
“I asked Tanner about that. She said we could spare a few more men and women to ride north with you, once we have Ronan. How does that sound? Two days delay, and then we ride north with three times as much power.”
Shae’s hands are shaking. He crosses his arms and tries to hold himself still. “Do you really need to do this?”
Consider whether dragging him down is worth it.
Arthur looks him in the eyes. “My calling is everything. It’s who I am,” he says. “I need to make things right.”
He’s already gone, Shae realizes.
Even if he stays for an couple days, even if he stays for a month, he can’t compete with Arthur’s precious order. He can’t handle staying and watching as Arthur draws further and further away. “Fine,” he says coldly. “Good luck with that.” He steps away to start untying Sparrow.
Arthur grabs his shoulder. “Wait, you need to stay here. You won’t be able to—”
“Don’t touch me,” Shae snaps, jerking away. He takes a deep breath, striving to reach a cool, rational calm, because otherwise this won’t work. He’ll throw everything away and stay here with Arthur. “I’ll hire someone else,” he says, and doesn’t try to keep the bitterness from his voice. “I don’t need you specifically.”
“Shae,” Arthur says quietly.
“It’s just a job, right?” Shae laughs. He flips Sparrow’s reins over his neck and starts digging through his coat pockets. Finding his coin purse, he counts out ten gold. “Here, this should cover what I owe you.”
Arthur grimaces. “I don’t need the money.”
“Fine.” Shae drops the coins on the ground. They clink together in the dirt. Fortunately, he manages to swing onto Sparrow’s back on his first try, instead of faceplanting to the ground on top of the coins.
“If you insist on leaving, let me at least escort you back to town,” Arthur says, reaching for Duchess’s tether.
“If you follow me,” Shae says, “I will kill you.” He tugs Sparrow around and kicks him into a trot. Doesn’t look back, just focuses on the road as it blurs in front of him. His eyes sting. With every jarring step, the warmth fades from his body, leaving his fingers cold around the reins.
There’s no sound behind him. No final call, no pounding hooves of Arthur catching up. Shae tries to tell himself he isn’t disappointed.
***
Shae’s spent years learning the limitations of his magic. Learning how long he can go without human contact. When his amber earring is fully charged with living aura, he can last nearly a day before the power is expended and he begins to truly hurt.
Lanwatch is only an hour’s ride out of town, and Shae expects to reach the gate cold, but otherwise whole.
But only half an hour out of camp, knifelike chills slice through his lungs. He gasps, hands spasming, and the reins slip from his fingers. Sparrow comes to a halt, confused, as Shae hunches over, choking for breath. He braces himself on the horse’s soft shoulders, barely feeling the rounded muscle beneath the fur. His fingertips already look faintly blue. It shouldn’t be happening this fast, why—
Another pain arcs through him, like lightning coursing from his heart to his palms.
He grits his teeth, blinking through the sudden sparks in his eyes, and knows one more line of the array broken. Izen is one step closer to freedom.
Ears still ringing with pain, Shae forces his numb fingers around the reins again and kicks. Sparrow takes one step forward, ears back and listening. No doubt wondering what the fuck his rider is doing, off-balance and trembling. The horse sets forward into a steady walk when Shae kicks again.
Shae’s vision tunnels down to the dirt road before them and the points of Sparrow’s ears twitching back and forth. He’s halfway to town, and part of him desperately wants to turn around and race back to Arthur. He wants to soak in the warmth and safety he’s never known anywhere else.
But Arthur isn’t safe. Shae knew that from the start, and he shouldn’t have forgotten it. Arthur’s calling is more important to him than anything else. He was always just passing time with Shae, waiting for a reason to leave Shae behind. Even though he was kind. Even though he saw through Shae’s defenses to the heart he wanted so badly to hide.
That connection was enough for Shae to drop his guard. But it wasn’t enough to make Arthur stay.
Arthur would probably feel bad if he learned Shae died of cold in the middle of summer. Shae tries to derive a petty, ugly satisfaction from that, but it’s hard to feel anything, bitter or sweet, as he keeps riding. Sparrow seems to move at a crawl, barely lifting each hoof as he walks forward. Shae wants to kick him faster, but he’s afraid he’ll fall off at the trot. He’s swaying in the saddle as it is.
Some time later—it feels like hours but it can’t be that long—he senses a flicker of warmth ahead. Like a candle in a blizzard. Relief washes through his shivering limbs. Friend or foe, he doesn’t care. He just needs someone.
Rounding a corner, he sees a group of people on horseback. One of them calls out, a voice he recognizes but can’t quite place, “Necromancer?”
He opens his mouth to answer, but the words get lost before they reach his lips. The road and trees blur in front of him, and he slumps sideways in the saddle. He’s unconscious before he hits the ground.
***
He wakes up, bruised and aching but no longer freezing to death. He can feel his hands. They’re cold, but cold is normal. He can deal with that. Even if he’s gotten used to waking up in warm arms, with warm lips against his neck. Even if he’s gotten weak to safety.
Keeping his breath steady, as if he’s still asleep, he takes stock of his surroundings. He’s lying down on something soft, fabric scratching his cheek, and sounds slowly filter into his awareness. A crackling fire before him. Voices behind him. Laughter. Rattling dice.
He recognizes the loudest voice. That Riverswords captain, Georgia Oakven. Shae’s eyes slit open, and he finds himself on a couch before a fireplace. The white walls are hung with broken swords and bows and axes. Trophies—though whether they belonged to the Riverswords members or their enemies, Shae doesn’t know. He assumes he’s in the Lanwatch outpost.
He sits up, hissing with pain as his left shoulder moves. He can’t remember anything clearly, but he’s pretty sure he fell off his horse. Nothing’s broken, but he’s going to be feeling the bruises for a while.
A rough male voice says, “Georgia, he’s up.”
“Thanks, darling,” Georgia answers. Shae turns on the couch, not trusting his legs enough to stand yet, to see her drop a handful of dice on the wooden table. She grabs a tankard and walks over to Shae, winking when they make eye contact.
The men and women at the table resume their game, and Georgia perches on the arm of the couch. The firelight catches in her dark hair. “Sleep well, necromancer?”
Shae leans back against the cushions and prods his shoulder, seeking out the bruises. “Thanks for picking me up. I appreciate that.”
“Just paying it forward.” She sips from her tankard. “Reed here’s picked me up off the side of the road enough times, I need to balance out my karma.”
“You’re not welcome,” Reed calls from across the room. The others laugh.
Georgia flips him a rude gesture. “Besides, the information you gave last time was good. We slew three vaidkos outside the town graveyard, so thanks for that, now we’re even,” she tells Shae. “Your horse is in our yard. You’re welcome to leave whenever you can walk out.”
To the point, no unnecessary questions. She doesn’t ask where his paladin friend is. She isn’t friendly, but she doesn’t hate him on sight either. This might be better, actually. Shae doesn’t have the strength to deal with friendliness right now. All his focus has to be on his mission.
But he can’t do it alone.
“Thanks,” he says again. “Are you still under contract to hunt vaidkos?”
She cocks her head. “Aye.”
Shae twists one of his rings. “I know where they’re coming from,” he says. “I can lead you to the source, in exchange for protection. But it’s going to be dangerous”
Georgia eyes him up and down, then yells over her shoulder, “Reed, sweetheart, another ale over here!” She turns back to Shae and says, “Tell me more, darling. I’m all ears.”