“Let’s try paralytic spells. If that doesn’t work, then yes, we kill them.”
The last two words were like a knife that cut into my soul. I closed my eyes and began to prepare my next spells.
The Last Necromancer, indeed.
Chapter Twenty
From just outside the door, the bats let out a chorus of high-pitched screeches. I winced. No question what those sounds were. Death cries. I’d put down enough farm animals to know that noise firsthand. I shook my head in disbelief.
The Fantomes were killing the bats that Rowan had summoned.
I gritted my teeth in frustration. What a foolish thing to do. Casters were incredibly protective of their creations. Killing magickal animals almost always led to a bloodbath. Most mages were wise enough to only incapacitate any opposing beasties made by a Creation Caster, maybe with a sleeping spell or freezing charm.
Not the Fantomes, though.
I worried my lower lip with my teeth. If the last of my people had to die, I wanted it to be as painless as possible. Goading Rowan wasn’t helping. He was strong enough to cast a parasite that would kill a Fantome painfully over a hundred years.
Rowan glared at the opened archway. “That was unwise of your fellow mages.”
“Be merciful.” My voice took on a pleading edge.
“I’ll keep my word. Paralytic spells. And if I must kill, I won’t draw out their pain.” Rowan raised his right hand. A plume of crimson smoke quickly wound up his arm. “I might enjoy the battle, though.”
I couldn’t deny him that. “Fair enough.”
Rowan and I slowly turned to face the entranceway. A patchwork of wooden tables separated us from the closed door. My blue orb now hovered at the center of the ceiling. Had I only cast that a few minutes ago? It felt like a lifetime had passed since then.
The battle would start any second now.
Rowan’s Caster power lit up the veins in his right hand. His rumbling voice spoke the classic incantations to prepare for battle. I heard the words for protection from harm and the strength of hundreds. We Necromancers had our own versions of all these spells.
Time for me to cast them.
I lifted my left arm, pulling Necromancer power into my soul. The air here was rich with memory. It would help the Fantomes’ spells, but it aided mine, too. Power flowed into my limbs. I cast my own set of protection spells, leaving plenty of energy behind for my first volley in battle. Normally, manipulating magick gave me a welcome jolt of excitement. Not this casting, however. My bones felt heavy with foreboding. I had just finished my preparations when it happened.
The door imploded.
Wooden shards scattered across the floor. The Necromancers stepped into view. Three men, three women. They all appeared young with pale skin, long black hair, and dark brown eyes. Something hungry and evil lurked in their elegant features. I remembered Marlene, the Mother Superior of the Midnight Cloister. She’d happily tortured and killed Necromancers for the Tsar. My insides twisted with dread.
I’d worried so much about saving the last of my people. Maybe Quinn and Rowan had been right—there was nothing left to save.
The Fantomes raced into the room, their dark robes billowing with each step. Behind them, there followed a dozen battle skeletons. These were silver-boned creatures with wide shoulders and sharp battleaxes grasped tightly in each hand. Blue light shone out from their eye sockets.
Rowan released his power. A half-dozen red scorpions appeared before us, each one as large as me. They snapped their claws and went after the battle skeletons.
After that, six red spheres of light hovered in the air. Rowan spoke another incantation. I knew the words.
These orbs were paralytic spells.
Rowan lowered his arm, and the spheres shot out across the room, striking each of the Fantomes squarely in the chest. I’d seen paralytic spells at work before. Normally, they were a few glimmers of light no larger than fireflies. These ones were massive. I couldn’t imagine anyone having enough magickal protection to fight those off. Still, I released some blue orbs of my own into the mix. More paralytics, more power. I took in a calming breath.
If anything could freeze them, that volley of spells ought to do it.
Dust settled into my eyes, making me blink. I looked up and gasped. Even more battle skeletons were crawling along the ceiling. It appeared that the Fantomes hadn’t wasted their time in the hallway.
Gods-damn it.