Black Magic (12 page)

"Come out, come out, little ghost hunter," the man said in a sing-song voice, and shock shot through Koray even sharper than the fear.

Rofell. The Goddess-damned king.

"Do you think I can't see you?" Rofell asked in a sibilant tone. "You should know by now that I can see just fine in the dark, necromancer. How hard do you think my high paladin will cry when he finds your blood painting the walls of this room? How loudly will he scream when he realizes that I fucked you before I killed you? His pain will be very sweet, even sweeter than the screams that lodge in your throat when I choke you."

Koray laughed. Rofell drew up short, clearly startled by the reaction.

"You're not a demon yet," Koray said. "Demons don't waste time talking. You're still mostly an arrogant king. You want me? Come and get me."

With a snarl, Rofell obeyed, lunging across the remaining space between them—and only colliding into the wall as Koray dropped and rolled away. He regained his feet and bolted around the table, knocking over books and chairs as he went, desperate to slow Rofell down as best he could. He ran through the archives, room after room, Rofell's feet pounding behind him. His heart was in his throat and fear made it hard to breathe, but he pushed on up the stairs. He went down with a cry just as he reached the top, hitting the ground hard, Rofell's weight pressing down upon him. His cheeks scraped against the rough stone floor, then went slick with blood. Koray twisted and kicked, finally got his arm free enough to draw his dagger—

The blow to his face stole his breath, left him with a mouthful of his own blood and watery eyes, and his dagger fell uselessly to the ground. Rofell pinned him, and Koray blinked the tears away to stare hatefully into Rofell's blood-red eyes.

He spat blood in Rofell's face, which startled Rofell enough he loosened his grip. Koray gave a hard, desperate shove, screaming with the effort, and Rofell tumbled just far enough to the side that he was able to twist free. Koray clambered back to his feet, snatched up his fallen dagger, and bolted down the hall again.

Reaching the great hall, he ran to the guards at the far end—and recoiled in dismay to see one of them was the man most responsible for his beating some weeks before. "The king," he said anyway, "the king attacked me in the archives. He is the one responsible for the murders."

"You really think—"

"I don't have time for you!" Koray snarled and whipped around when he heard Rofell coming. "Damn you all!" he said and stole the bastard's sword right from its sheath. Ignoring the squawks of protest, jerking away from the hands that tried to grab him, he turned to face down Rofell.

Rofell wiped blood from his face and said, "Kill the necromancer! He assaulted me; he is the one guilty of all the deaths that have occurred since his arrival! Kill him!"

Koray darted away, despair beginning to mingle with his fear. Damn it, if he did not convince the paladins to believe him—

"What is going on here?" Sorin demanded from the entryway.

"Sorin!" Koray cried, relief pouring through him despite himself. And in that moment he let his guard down. Rofell lunged, firelight flashing on steel as he plunged his dagger into Koray.

"No!" Sorin bellowed, the power behind that single word setting the entire castle to trembling. He charged down the hall, sword glinting. As Koray sank to the ground, clutching at his side, he could not help but notice that Sorin had not even bothered to dress past throwing on a tunic.

His world began to go gray around the edges, and he could feel the hot blood seeping between his fingers where he held them to his wound. But he still watched as Sorin grabbed Rofell and threw him across the room as though he weighed nothing. Rofell roared, dropping all pretense, eyes turning red again as he fought Sorin as ruthlessly as any demon.

Sorin's eyes filled with violet fire, and Koray swore he could feel the heat pouring off him as he fought Rofell with equal ruthlessness.

In the end, there was no contest. Even Koray could see that Rofell was no match for the High Paladin. Sorin gutted him then removed his head for good measure. Covered in blood and sweat, he dropped his sword and ran to Koray. Dropping to his knees, he made the most painful, miserable sound Koray had ever heard. He realized he would give anything never to hear that horrible sound again.

"Damn you, necromancer. Why can't you sleep at night like a normal person? I'm going to tie you to my bed."

Koray laughed, not sure why he did exactly, and then passed out.

When he woke, it was to the irritation of bright sunlight on his face. Grimacing, he sat up and pushed away the blankets—and immediately winced, swearing loudly. Pushing aside the blankets and sitting up more carefully, he gingerly touched the bandages wrapped around his torso. He could still feel the ache of the wound, but they must have gotten healers to him in time to prevent its being fatal.

So Rofell had been the demon the entire time. Why had he killed Sorin's cousin?

Sorin …

Koray looked around and realized he was in Sorin's room. He spied his clothes piled haphazardly on a chest and slowly climbed out of the bed. Walking across the room, he pulled on the clothes, wincing and swearing the entire time. When he was finally respectable, he went to go find answers—and Sorin, though why the thought of seeing Sorin sped his heart up he could not say.

The great hall fell into a dead silence as he entered, and Koray scowled at all of them.

"Koray!" Sorin snapped and stood up from where he had been sitting at the far end of the left-most column of tables. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"Walking," Koray retorted as Sorin stalked toward him. "I am sufficiently healed for that, My Lord High Paladin."

Sorin just glared all the more and grabbed his shoulders. "You are going back to bed this instant."

"Do I look helpless to you?" Koray hissed. "I am fine. I want to know what happened."

"You can learn your answers just as well in bed!" Sorin said.

Koray jerked away from his hold. "Try to put me in bed, you rock-for-brains, and I will smother you with your own pillow."

"Try it," Sorin said. "And when you're done, I will tie you down until you're sufficiently healed."

"Try it," Koray mimicked. "I am not a child and I have dealt with worse wounds all by my little self, My Lord High Paladin. Stop fretting like a mother kitten, it does not suit you."

Sorin's eyes flashed in a way that made Koray shiver, though he did not feel afraid in the slightest. "Necromancer, I will throttle you."

"I can listen to my answer just as well from a seat as from a bed," Koray said.

"You will go to bed!" Sorin thundered and only moderated his tone slightly as he continued, "You barely survived, necromancer. You've been abed for the better part of a week. The priests gave strict orders that you were not to leave—"

"I do not care what the priests say. I will walk when and where I so choose." Koray stepped away when Sorin reached for him again. "Now, are you going to let me eat and answer my questions, My Lord High Idiot, or must we continue to bicker?"

Sorin lunged at him, but Koray darted away.

"Is this really how to behave in front of your men?" Koray taunted, dodging out of reach again. Sorin glared at him, and Koray added, "You can kill demons, but you can't catch one necromancer, My Lord High Idiot? I remember you had trouble with that in the forest, as well." He tsked—and then yelped when Sorin abruptly caught him. "Let. Me. Go."

Smirking, Sorin said, "No. And if you do not start using manners and showing me respect, My Lord High Necromancer, I will dull that sharp tongue of yours once and for all."

Koray sneered. "Go ahead and try, My Lord High Paladin, but I promise you will not—"

Whatever he had expected, it was not a kiss. Koray froze, shocked beyond words—too shocked to do anything, but acquiesce as Sorin pressed the kiss deeper. He whimpered softly as Sorin took his mouth, seemed to claim it, and startled himself all over again when he started to respond the kiss.

Sorin tasted like mulled wine and porridge, tasted like heat and sunlight and fire. Koray whimpered again, clinging tightly to Sorin's tunic—and stare dumbfounded when Sorin finally pulled away.

"Told you so," Sorin said.

Koray narrowed his eyes then swung hard, burying his fist in Sorin's stomach. He wasn't able to cause real damage, but it was enough to send Sorin stumbling back in surprise. "I want answers, paladin, and you will give them to me, or I promise I will show you that my tongue is not even remotely dulled."

He realized too late, as people laughed around him, that his words did not come out the way he had intended.

Sorin grinned. "If you will not go back to bed, necromancer, then come sit down and I'll tell you what you must know. But after breakfast you're going back to bed. That's an order."

"I don't take orders from you," Koray replied, but conceded for the moment, following Sorin to where he had been sitting and taking the seat across from him. "So tell me."

"There isn't much to tell, unfortunately," Sorin said. "Rofell left behind no clues as to why he killed Alfrey, and the rest he obviously killed because he was a demon. Likely he killed Angelos because Angelos was the only one who could have found him once we knew what to look for." Grief filled his face briefly, but before Koray could comment, Sorin continued, "We found some items in his rooms, things that were giving him power. They were probably given to him by a demon, or else he took them from a demon back when he still ventured onto the battlefields. It's probably been growing very slowly for a long time. Do demons leave ghosts, necromancer?"

Koray shook his head. "They do not have souls, and so cannot leave ghosts. A pity, for I could have forced the answers from him." He glanced around the hall, just in case, but Rofell's ghost was definitely not amongst them. "I do not see him here, so he was most assuredly too far gone to leave a ghost."

Sorin sighed in frustration. "That is that, then. I doubt we will ever know why he killed Alfrey."

They both fell silent, and Koray ate the porridge brought to him without enthusiasm. When he could take no more, he finally asked, "What will the kingdom do without a king?"

"The law says I am to act as regent until a suitable king comes along. I have sent out men to scour every corner of the continent for Prince Cerant, and others are preparing to look even farther afield. Unfortunately, there is no one else to claim the throne if we cannot locate him. The royal family has been dying out for years. If Prince Cerant is dead, or refuses to return, then … I don't know." He said the words quietly so they would not be overheard.

Koray nodded and went back to his porridge, unable to ask the only question he cared about: what was he supposed to do now that the mystery was solved?

"Walk with me," Sorin said abruptly and stood up.

Startled, Koray obeyed, standing and following Sorin out of the great hall. They walked until they reached the king's solar, which was much cleaner and brighter than the only other occasion Koray had seen it. He also saw that many of Sorin's things were there. "So you're here now?"

"Only because it seems to make everyone happy," Sorin said with a sigh. "I am no king, but I seem to have no choice until we can find Cerant or someone else more suited to the throne. I fear if something is not done soon, people will start to compete and everything will get quite ugly. Only the fact the Goddess has made it clear that I am to act as regent has stayed the bickering so far."

Koray tilted his head, honestly puzzled as to why Sorin was telling him so much. The memory of the recent kiss stirred in his mind, made his face go hot, and he furiously shoved it aside. Sorin had been taunting, teasing—playing. "So what does any of this have to do with me?"

"I just—would you stay? I am sure you want to be gone from the castle, but you also said there were ghosts here to purify and you're welcome to call in all the necromancers you need to help you. You would draw pay the same as any royal official … whatever you want, necromancer. I would like for you to remain."

"I would like to address the ghosts," Koray conceded. "It's not as though I have anything better to do, and it's too late now to make it to my home before winter sets in. The Goddess is not directing me anywhere, either. So I may as well remain here, at least until spring or I am guided elsewhere. But no one else had better hit or stab me—and no more ridiculousness like that in the hall!"

Sorin's mouth tilted up on one side. "Ridiculous is not how I would describe it."

"Oh?" Koray asked, folding his arms across his chest. "How would you describe it, then?"

In reply, Sorin stalked across the room toward him. Koray took a step back, and then another, stopping only when he hit a wall. He put his hands up to stop Sorin and had no idea how that turned into more clinging to the front of his tunic as Sorin reclaimed his mouth. Koray shuddered and fell far too easily into the kiss, wondering what in the name of the Goddess was wrong with him.

When the kiss finally ended, they were both panting, and meeting Sorin's eyes was one of the hardest things Koray had ever done.

"How would I describe it?" Sorin echoed. "As a good start."

Koray shivered. "You're really quite mad." He pulled away when Sorin tried to kiss him again. "Enough of that for now. There is work to be done. Where are these objects Rofell was hiding? Who cleansed this room of demon taint? Who—why are you smirking?"

"Because you said 'for now', necromancer. The priests are keeping the items secured. I'll take you back to your bed so you can rest, and have the items brought to you."

"I don't need to return to bed!" Koray snapped.

Sorin ignored him, wrapping one arm firmly around Koray and leading him through the halls.

Scowling, Koray nevertheless held his tongue. Whatever. He would just sneak out of bed later. For the moment, there was work to do and answers to find, because if the sword had not been meant to catch Rofell then there was something else in store for them, and he dreaded learning what.