The (sort of) Dark Mage (Waldo Rabbit) (44 page)

The archlich waved a hand graciously. “I wouldn’t want you to. It is so much more fun if you struggle. Do whatever you can to try and live just a little bit longer. It doesn’t matter. When I was alive I was the strongest necromancer in existence. I killed Fenlen Poisondagger just outside the Council chambers, and no one dared to so much as question it. I conquered the city of Bescan alone, with only my undead. In my day I was more powerful than whole armies. I am weaker now than I was then, dead flesh cannot summon mana as well as living. Your mother might be a match for me, perhaps, but with someone like you...”

It took a stride forward.

“What can someone as weak as you do?”

“Fight.” Waldo answered. “
Pyro
.”

He didn’t expect anything to happen, but it was the only offensive magic he had. None of his wands had ever worked, and they had been superbly crafted from the bones of mages. How could this one do any better?

Waldo found out. He felt the mana surge through him and into the wand. Saw it shine and felt it become warm in his hand. A massive stream of fire shot out. Waldo gaped. For the first time in his life he was working real combat magic.

The flames rushed and struck his grandfather in the very middle of its chest, billowing and spreading out.

For just a second Waldo’s hopes soared. He had done it, he had won. Waldo expected to see the archlich burning up like a torch.

The moment of triumph ended as quickly as it had begun. The flames danced and spread, setting the grass on fire, but his grandfather was unaffected. Even his decrepit robes were unharmed.

“You look disappointed grandson. You didn’t expect it to be that easy did you? I always cast protective wards.” It stood where it was, making no effort to counterattack. “Feel free to try something else.”

There was nothing else, he had no other offensive spells.

“
Repulso
.” He again felt the mana in him flow easily from his body into the wand. This spell worked specifically on the undead, if he could cast it strongly enough it might at least force his grandfather back.

The archlich’s robes billowed and twisted as it caught in a light breeze.

Rasping laughter echoed through the forest.

“You actually expect such a minor enchantment to affect me? Is that truly all that you can do? I had no idea my daughter had grown so careless. How did she let you live to adulthood? For that matter, one of your siblings should have gotten rid of you long ago.”

It casually held out its right hand, holding thumb and middle finger together.

“
Xatos ki
.”

Waldo hunched his shoulders and clutched his arms in front of him.

Nothing happened though. At his feet the circle and runes gave a fleeting glimmer.

“A protective circle? I would have sensed it when I was alive.”

“It seems we are at an impasse.”

“Hardly.” It pointed to a tree. “
Levitaros
.”

There was the sound of snapping and tearing, as to Waldo’s shock the tree was torn from the earth and lifted fifteen feet into the air, roots and all. His grandfather had just done that using one of the most basic and rudimentary of spells.

“Are you beginning to understand now grandson? The vastness of the gulf that lies between us.” It casually flicked its finger. “Catch.”

The tree was sent flying towards him. Instinctively Waldo dived to the ground. It sailed five feet above him, crashing into the forest and tearing out a gouge in the forest.

His grandfather merely nodded. “You’ve broken your circle.” Once more it touched thumb to middle finger. “
Xatos ki
.”

Before Waldo could even scramble to his feet he was hit by what felt like a stone wall. The air expelled from his lungs he was sent flying ten feet through the air. His ribs exploded in fresh agony and he could taste blood.

Ignoring the pain as best he could Waldo forced himself back to his feet. Somehow he had held onto his wand. Spitting out blood he steadied himself and took rapid shallow breaths, his free hand pressed to his side. His grandfather was still just standing there.

“Run,” it commanded. “If you can’t give me a good fight at least give me a decent chase, now run!”

Not having any better options Waldo decided to do just that.

XXX

As he stumbled through the dark, ribs hurting with every step, he racked his brains to come up with some sort of strategy. He had memorized everything in Roger’s spellbook; illusions and weather magic. He had various wards and defensive spells and healing.

What good will any of that do me now?

When he’d put some distance between them Waldo stopped and healed himself. He hadn’t wanted to waste the time or mana, but the pain was getting to be too much. Once that was done he tried to think rationally about his options.

Waldo could sense his grandfather approaching, but not quickly.

“Probably wants to enjoy the chase,” Waldo muttered.

Just how was he supposed to fight someone so much more powerful than he was? Until now he had been used to thinking of undead as relatively harmless. They were dangerous to ordinary mundanes, but not to him. Waldo recalled all of Walter’s pathetic attempts to kill him and all the different ways he had handled them. He thought of all the weaknesses of the undead.

It was thinking about Walter that led him to an idea. It was very basic, but it might work.

“Better than nothing.”

Waldo began running again while keeping his eye out for just the right spot for what he had in mind.

XXX

What an interesting boy,
Lucius Corpselover thought.
Almost a pity to eat him.

He set out at a regular walking pace. There was no need to rush things. This would be the last time he would devour the heart of someone with his blood. Oh his bratty daughter was still alive, but no matter how poor a parent, she was a very competent mage. And unlike some of her children, she at least was no fool. Going after his daughter was far too dangerous, so sadly, tonight would be the last time he would have someone in his family for dinner.

“There are always the branch families I suppose, but it just won’t be the same.”

Lilith is not going to have any more children. I should have waited until I had great grandchildren.

Lucius really didn’t think he was at fault, it wasn’t as though he had been a glutton. Since becoming a lich he had only eaten three of his kin. His son and heir Tyver, his granddaughter Kara, and his grandson Walter. It wasn’t as if he had set out deliberately to exterminate his line. After all, a wolf doesn’t kill all the sheep.

But the world was a dangerous place, and Lilith had obviously been incompetent in training her children.

“I should have eaten her and let Tyver live.”

So now he was down to just one grandchild, the one everyone had seen as the family disgrace. And honestly, the heir to the Corpselover family going around in white robes? If this was what the family had come to it was just as well his line ended. At least someone from a branch family would not be an embarrassment.

The boy had courage, and was not completely incompetent like the rumors said, but he was much too weak. And he had bizarre notions. Risking your life to save a familiar? Where had he even picked up such an idea? It really was like something the whites would do.

As he pondered that he noticed a mist rising all around him. In a matter of minutes it grew thick and filled the whole area with a dense fog.

Lucius could not sense magic, but this was obviously the result of a spell. Being undead his vision was also not as clear as it had been in life. He was effectively blinded. Going through the forest in this manner would slow him down. However it did nothing to interrupt the detection spell. He knew exactly how far away Waldo was and in what direction.

“Still, not a bad use of his limited abilities. Lilith should have done more with him.”

He set out again at the same pace. The dead never tired. No matter how the boy ran there was no escape for him.

As Lucius went he nearly ran into a few trees. Even for an archlich navigating through this boundless fog was a hindrance. He could have easily dispelled it, but he decided to allow his grandson this tiny victory. Lucius wanted him to think there still might be hope.

It was soon clear the boy had stopped running. He was simply waiting up ahead.
Is he too tired to run any more or is he planning an ambush?

The answer came in a stream of fire as he got within about twenty yards.

“
Pyro
.” His grandson said from somewhere in the mist.

As before the flames were deflected harmlessly away.

Lucius laughed. “I give you credit for having courage grandson, but is that the only spell you know?”

As if in answer another stream of fire came, it proved as useless as the others.

“This begins to grow tedious, either use a different spell or start running again.”

“
Pyro
.”

A third blaze was turned aside by his protective magics.

Brave but stupid.

Lucius began walking towards him, if the boy wanted to die fighting that was fine. At least he was not ending his life on his knees crying and begging as Walter had.

It seemed Waldo really had chosen to make a last stand here. He was not moving, his grandson was holding his ground as yet another useless stream of fire lanced out. Lucius strode confidently towards him, excitement building within his decayed heart. The thought of ripping out his last grandchild’s heart and devouring it before the boy’s eyes filled him with delight.

This was why he had come to this miserable land and wasted so much time chasing after Waldo. It was for this feeling, this excitement, and this joy. Knowing what he was about to do made him feel alive again. To have this sensation pulsing through him was worth anything.

Lucius was within ten steps and the boy was still not running. Eight steps, six, four…

He ran into a wall.

Lucius bounced back. Had he run into a tree? He saw nothing in front of him and his grandson was too tantalizingly close now. Lucius stepped to the side to quickly skirt around the unseen object. To his annoyance he again struck some sort of barrier. He reached out with his hands and found the air in front of him as solid as stone. Quickly feeling around he soon discovered he was trapped.

Looking down Lucius saw he was standing inside a circle with runes written on the outside.

“
Nunc
.”

“That won’t work,” Waldo’s voice called out unseen. “Look at the symbols.”

Lucius did so. He took a moment to study the runes scratched out in the dirt. “I see, a containment circle for undead combined with magical suppression, a very complex formula. Did you have it written in your spellbook?”

“No, I just pieced it together.”

Lucius was surprised, combining effects in a single ward so that one did not interfere with the other was tricky. Even for a competent mage it would normally require weeks of research and experimentation to figure out. “It seems you have some talent grandson.”

“Thank you grandfather.”