The Necromancer’s Light by Tavia Lark

❧

CHAPTER THIRTY

Arthur

Arthur leaps to his feet in a surge of adrenaline, placing his body between Shae and the voice. He’s utterly drained and his sword is ten feet away, but that doesn’t matter. There’s no way he’s letting anything hurt Shae now.

He thought all the walking corpses had lost their power after Izen fell, but one of them is now getting to her feet. The Riverswords blue streak in her hair is unmistakable—which is bad. Arthur could barely fight off Georgia with his sword, much less without it.

But Georgia doesn’t move any closer after standing. She puts both hands on her hips and looks around. “Fuck,” she says contemplatively. “That was a trip and half.”

Her face is still death-pale, and there’s still a gaping wound in the center of her chest. But her eyes aren’t the same pitch-black as when they fought, and she’s making no move to threaten them.

“Don’t move,” Arthur says, perhaps redundantly, and walks slowly sideways to pick up his sword. He feels better with it in his hand, and better still that Shae follows him, a light hand on the back of his arm.

“I’m not going to bite,” she replies. “I don’t know what that demon bastard did to me, but I didn’t want to fight you then and I don’t want to fight you now.”

Arthur’s too exhausted to try a truth spell, and he’s not sure it works on dead people anyway. “What do you think, Shae? This is more your area of expertise than mine.”

Shae steps out from behind him, touching his chin in thought. The new ring on his finger gleams in the sunlight. “Can I touch your wrist?” he asks Georgia. “I want to see something.”

“I like a man with manners,” she say easily. “Though not as much as this guy likes you, clearly. You really know how to pick a moment, paladin.”

Arthur’s not so sure about that. He feels more like the moment picked him.

He follows at Shae’s side as he steps towards the dead mercenary. She herself stays perfectly still, which is smart because Arthur is ready to chop her hand off if she makes the wrong move towards Shae. He can’t help tensing as Shae takes her wrist and murmurs something Arthur doesn’t understand.

Maybe Shae would be willing to teach him a few words of Lyrisenian.

“The compulsion ended when Izen died,” Shae says, still holding Georgia’s wrist. “But the animation should have ended too… I think he used a full revival on you. I don’t know why.”

Georgia asks, “There’s a difference?”

“It’s complicated,” Shae says.

Arthur gestures to the other collapsed corpses surrounding them. “It’s the difference between whatever they are and whatever you are.”

“Okay, maybe not so complicated.” Shae lets go of her wrist and twists his own hands together. He only has the one ring to fiddle with right now. “Captain Oakven, I’m so sorry I got you into this mess. This is—awful. I know. I can lay you to rest when you’re ready.”

Arthur aches at the way Shae’s voice trembles. He reaches down and grabs his hand, and Shae squeezes it fiercely back.

But Georgia just laughs. “Let’s take a rain check on that, darling. Do either of you have a shirt I can borrow? Maybe a comb?”

“What?” Arthur asks in disbelief.

She plucks at her blood-stained shirt, torn open around the hold in her chest. “I need to cover this up before I ride back into town. People will talk.”

Arthur puts his hand on his sword hilt. “I don’t think bringing you back to town is a great idea.”

“Wait,” Shae says, putting a hand on Arthur’s. There’s still a tremor in his voice. He turns to Georgia. “You don’t want to rest?”

“Fuck no,” she says easily. “I’ve got a crew to take care of, and they already call me heartless. If I turn crazy again, Reed will chop my head off, no problem.”

There’s a strange expression on Shae’s face, but he nods. “Okay. It’s your choice.” Then he turns to Arthur, his eyes squinting up like he’s about to cry. But he smiles instead. “Let’s get out of here.”

Arthur would like nothing more.

***

They clean up the battle site as best they can before leaving. Shae gathers up as many of his rings as he can find and insists on burning the corpses, while Arthur prays over them. Georgia steals a mostly-intact shirt from one of them and changes into it. With the gaping hole in her chest covered, she looks ill but not dead.

Duchess returns midway through their work, snorting unhappily at the smoke. Arthur buries his face in her neck, inhales, and starts to feel like himself again instead of a dazed, impulsive fool.

He keeps looking at the new ring on Shae’s finger, though, and doesn’t regret being impulsive at all.

“I thought you two broke up,” Georgia says, as Arthur kisses Shae’s temple for the dozenth time. “This is insufferable.”

“I’d say I’m sorry,” Arthur says with a grin, “but I’m really not.”

He’s still overwhelmed by the fact that Shae gave up his goal for him. He cursed himself to a lifetime with this harsh power. Arthur vows silently to do everything he can to make that easier.

They set off for Lanwatch, Arthur and Shae riding double and Georgia walking beside them. She doesn’t seem to tire at all. Shae spends most of the ride asking her questions about various sensations and perceptions, and Georgia sometimes answers. It’s slow going, and nearly dark when they meet the group of guards and crown’s mages outside the border gate.

The mages are casting into the barrier, testing it or strengthening it or something. The guards swarm forward to confront the three travelers.

“How do I look?” Georgia asks, brushing her hair from her face.

“Mostly alive,” Arthur answers.

Then Arthur is selfishly grateful they didn’t lay her to rest, because she strides forward and handles all the talking. The way she tells it, the three of them valiantly saved the city from a rogue demon and attacking corpses. They were in no way responsible for causing the problems, Georgia was not one of the attacking corpses in question, and the Riverswords will be charging an exorbitant amount of hazard pay to the Lanwatch council. Of course Shae and Arthur are in her employ, she’s known them for years.

Arthur’s not thrilled with the lies, but he’s too tired to come up with anything better.

A guard runs off midway through her explanation, and by the time they finally ride into the city, a small crowd is gathered. Arthur’s not surprised to see more soldiers and mages, a few Riverswords, and he picks out the council-members by their fine clothes and the brass torques around their necks. He is surprised to see a number of familiar sun-emblazoned tunics—Captain Tanner, Freya, and a few other sisters and brothers.

Former sisters and brothers.

Shae stiffens at the sight. “Do you need to talk to them?” he asks quietly.

“I probably should,” Arthur says. “But we can avoid them if you want.”

Shae sighs. “No, I think I’ve learned my lesson about avoiding things.”

Arthur hugs him tight, then dismounts and helps him down. A nearby guard takes Duchess from Arthur, and then there’s nothing between them and Captain Tanner. Arthur steels his nerves and takes Shae’s hand as they walk over.

“Captain,” he says. “I thought you were heading back to Ostaris.”

“Most of them are on their way, but Karis scried out some trouble here so I brought a few people back around.” Tanner sighs. “I should have known something was really going on when you left, Arthur. You’ve always had good instincts.”

“With a few exceptions?” he can’t help asking.

Behind her, Freya laughs. Tanner’s lip just twitches a little. “Good battle instincts,” she says gruffly. She looks away briefly, as if the next thing she has to say is something very difficult. “Look. I might have been a bit hasty with you the last time we spoke. I think that given what happened today, we could make a good case for your reinstatement. I’d hate to lose one of my best men over all of this.”

Arthur stares. It’s the closest thing to an apology he’s ever heard her give. And for a moment, he’s tempted to accept. To ride back to the Bright Cathedral, his brothers and sisters at his side, to renew his oath and serve the Radiant Order.

Only for a moment. Because nothing’s truly changed since he left, except that Arthur knows he made the right choice. Tanner’s being nice to Arthur now, but she hasn’t even looked at Shae once.

Arthur doesn’t need an organization that’s more concerned with looking good than doing good. He doesn’t need an organization that wants to force him to choose between faith and love, when he knows his god wants him to have both. His contract with Vara doesn’t depend on the order after all, and it’s stronger than ever now that he’s making his own choices.

“I appreciate that, sir,” he says, squeezing Shae’s hand. “But I meant it when I quit. Vara has another path for me.”

She frowns, then sighs again. “Suit yourself, Arthur. And good luck.”

Shae’s hand clenches suddenly. “Wait a second,” he says, wide eyed. “You left the order?”

Arthur laughs. “I guess I was too busy to mention that, but yeah.” He takes Shae’s other hand too and spins him around so they’re facing each other, and the heat that cascades between them is warmer than anything Arthur’s ever felt. In front of everyone—paladins, soldiers, mercenaries, Vara only knows who else—he bends down to murmur in Shae’s ear, “I’m all yours now.”

“What are you doing?” Shae hisses. “You shameless—”

But when Arthur kisses him in the middle of the street, he kisses back just as eagerly.