Rise of the Dead Prince (20 page)

“No, thank you, your majesty,” she said just as dryly. Ian furrowed his brow at the rejection but then looked inquisitively at what she was doing. He could not quite
see.

“Will you at least take your rest here?” he asked imploringly. “You and Dias are deserving of that much at least.” Allie looked down at her work and then blew away the shavings. She had been making notches on her pitchfork. Ian’s eyes grew wide. The whole length of it was covered in tiny scratch marks on all sides. There were dozens at least, hundreds per
haps.

“Thanks, your majesty, but I have work to do,” she said plainly with a polite bow in his direction. Ian was beginning to see, but he was not about to give up without one last
try.

“Even important work can wait for hard earned rest, Allie.” Allie just snickered and smiled for a moment. It was a cold smile, distant and careworn. She was hiding her exhaus
tion.

“With all due respect, King Ian, you say that only because you haven’t seen what’s in the s
outh.”

27
The Dark Road

M
eier sat cross-legged, with his back to a cypress tree. All around, the sounds of the swamp flooded his ears, causing his brow to furrow. His eyes were tightly closed, and he was deep in the world of gray. Before him, a
strigoi
was twitching, walking south but then stopping. It took another step and then one step back. Had the gray state allowed it, Meier would have been sweating. His mind was near the breaking p
oint.

“You’re trying too hard, Meier,” said Raven finally. His clicked his beak in frustration. “Remember what I told you. The dark path is subtle and seductive. The way to power is open to those who seize it. This is why being evil, if there is such a thing, is such a benefit. Evil is often single-minded. You don’t need to
try
to make it work. You simply tak
e it.”

Meier renewed his effort but found it difficult to bend the thing to his will fully. He was not an ambitious person. What care had he for minions? It was this lack of drive that limited him to simply making the
strigoi
confused for a short time. On a positive note, the dead, even the bonewalkers, took no notice of him when he was this deep in the gray state. He had free reign to practice without harassment. If only he could stay this way at all times, he could walk straight to the source unhindered, but that was not how it worked. He was simply too human still. He could barely function when he was this deep. It was a serious problem, according to R
aven.

“All right, this is just sad. Stop being a wishy-washy nitwit and be decisive! That thing is putty in your hands. Be assertive! You are its lord and master! For cawing out loud, Meier, act like a prince! But not a good one, no, definitely not! You want to rule the dead for your own selfish ends. You want an army to save Valahia? Here they are, within your grasp! Don’t save Valahia for the people. Save it for your own glory! Think of the power!” Raven ranted. He was literally hopping with anger. Despite the inspirational speech, Meier still could not quite do it. Deep in his mind, Meier was ignoring the angry bird. He could feel something there, but could not quite grasp it. Just like when he had first come back to the living side, it was eluding him. There simply had to be a way. He was not evil! Raven seemed to notice a slight smile on Meier’s bluish
face.

“If you are thinking about love again, I swear I will peck you on your giant forehead as a lasting reminder,” said Raven, clicking and puffing himself up. No, it wasn’t quite love he was pondering. He knew there was something he could use, some powerful feeling that could make him bend the dead to his will. It wasn’t hate. Meier did not feel hate the way an evil person would. His will to exist in harmony was too great. Still, there were some that deserved the hate they got. Weren’t there? He probed in the darkness for a beacon of light. It felt like the right thing to do. Glory? Worthless and ephemeral. Who would want to be known for more than they were? No, that was not what Meier needed. Stumbling along in the shadows of his mind, he finally saw a red light in the distance. He moved to where it was; and as he grew close, he saw that it was a fire, burned down to the coals. He felt a strong surge rise up in him. It got bigger and hotter. Soon the heat consumed him, and he was one with the dying flame and filled with a single inten
tion.

Meier opened his eyes, and the natural color of them was gone. All that was left was a bright purple light. Meier’s expression hardened, and then the
strigoi
promptly turned to face him. It was in his thrall. Raven che
ered.

“Now
that’s
what I was talking about! Now make it dance, necromancer!” Meier tried to pull the thing’s strings like a marionette. It raised its arms over its head and did a half turn. Raven was cawing happily. The feeling was getting stronger, too strong. Meier ordered the thing to turn back ar
ound.

And that was when it expl
oded.

The thing was completely destroyed in a sudden, violent burst. Raven and Meier were suddenly showered with the disgusting remains of the
strigoi
; and Meier, in his surprise, came rushing back from the gray state and into life. He rocked backward into the tree and took a tremendous gasp. His heart was racing. He had never come back that quickly in all the times he had tried. It had felt like pulling a bowstring to delve so deep into the gray, that when his concentration had broken, he flew back with the force of an a
rrow.

“What
…
was
…
THAT
?” squawked Raven loudly. For the first couple of seconds, Meier was not sure if his instructor was happy or angry. It soon became clear which one it was. “I am covered in
FILTH
!” cawed the furious bird who spread his wings and flapped them frantically. Looking down, Meier realized he was rather gory as well. It was all quite horrible. Luckily, they were next to loads of murky, foul-smelling water to cleanse themselves in. This they did, taking the lesser of two evils; and after a few minutes, they were smelly but as clean as one could reasonably be having bathed in a s
wamp.

“I may never forgive you for this, Meier,” said Raven, still thoroughly incensed. Meier finished washing his face in the vile water with a grimace. He shuddered and grunted. Indeed, it had been horr
ible.

“I’m sorry, Raven. I don’t know what happened,” he admitted hone
stly.

“I’ll tell you what happened! You didn’t listen to what I said. That’s what happened! You went toward the
heat
, didn’t you? Huh?” cawed Raven, still shaking his whole body as though the filth would never come free. Meier thought about how he felt before it happ
ened.

“Yes, I suppose I did. Nothing else felt strong enough,” he said casu
ally.

Raven sighed and then shuddered in disgust again. “I
told
you. Dark magic is selfishness incarnate. You need to focus on
you,
Meier. You’ll never get control without it. You need the cold death inside you to hone the mastery of the subtle and dominant,” Raven said then changed tone. “Still
…
what you cast was
extremely
powerful magic. The fact that you did it accidentally means that whatever you were thinking about must have been incredibly strong. So you’d better tell me everything.” Meier took a second to compose his thou
ghts.

“Well, it started out with me, rejecting all your incentives one by one. I don’t care about any of those things, Raven, and I certainly can’t force it. Then I felt a pull on my psyche, and when I turned to face it, I followed it to a low burning fire. When I looked into it, I saw Valahia ravaged and burned, and I saw my family and friends killed, and then I saw the dead roaming the ruins of a cursed and lifeless land. I saw what was coming if I don’t succeed, but more than this, I felt a hideous anger and a burning desire to see justice done for all the unspeakable crimes against my people that have already taken place. Then the fire took me, and I felt such a wave of righteous indignation against the dead, that I couldn’t just make that
strigoi
dance. I tried to follow your instructions, but the anger was too strong. I wanted the dead eradicated from this world. In that moment, I wanted it more than anything. You know what happened
next.”

Raven hopped around in a circle. He was pacing again. It was something he did while deep in thought. “Well, Meier, that’s certainly one way to go about it!” he said with a cawed laugh. “What you felt was the dark motive
revenge,
and it is indeed something that you understandably have good reason to feel. You might have called it justice, retribution, or righteous anger, but these are simply euphemisms for revenge.” Meier nodded at first but then shook his
head.

“The desire for justice is not the same as revenge. How can you say that?” asked Meier with feeling. Raven clicked and cleared his throat. A condescending comment was co
ming.

“True justice, if there is ever such a thing, cannot simply be administered by the hands of the aggrieved, Meier. The word ‘justice’ cannot be written in blood. A neutral and fair-minded party is needed and must attempt to give unto all parties exactly what is rightly deserved. In an ideal case, the administrator must temper that decision with high reason, and
…
well, for lack of a better word, I’ll use yours
…
love.
In other words, Meier, for all that has happened, you do not simply want to see the necromancer answer for his or her crime. You want to make the necromancer
pay.
Search yourself and tell me that I’m wrong.” Again, Meier took a second to r
eply.

“You’re not wrong, Raven, but why does it feel so right then?” Raven sco
ffed.

“Still trying to be the perfect paragon of virtue, eh? Well, if it makes you feel any better, revenge is one of the most natural notions, and as such, it is probably the most difficult to overcome among the failings of virtue. But that’s not what we should be focusing on right now, Meier.” Meier shook his head again. It hadn’t made him feel better at all. Must one fight fire with fire? Still, it didn’t change the fact that the necromancer must be stopped by any means necessary if Valahia was to be saved. Meier was certain of that
much.

“You might not ever be able to master the subtleties of necromancy, Meier, but in a way, I think that is appropriate. What you can do, however, is master the
destructive
side of dark magic. You have so much call for revenge that it is a veritable wellspring of power.” Meier sighed and got to his feet. He looked s
outh.

“Which way, Raven?” he asked plainly. As far as he was concerned, the lesson was over. After all, he had blown up the subject. One more person’s empty shell laid to rest, at l
east.

“That’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, actually
…
there’s a clear path through. It seems to zigzag around in places, but it’s unguarded nevertheless. As you know, there are sentries littered throughout the swamp at regular intervals. It’s all very organized, and I can’t imagine how much power and range it took to accomplish this, but that’s a problem we’ll face when we get closer
…
Arm!” Raven said and fluttered up to rest on Meier’s arm bone. “But I digress. The path that’s clear is full of broken dead. Shattered skeletons and destroyed
strigoi
are all over the place in groups. Clearly, someone came through here recently, and they did loads of damage too. It’s the only real explanation,” he said fin
ally.

Meier couldn’t help but smile. Someone came through and cut a swath through what should have been an impassable defense? Whoever they were and however many of them had done it, he silently thanked them. More and more, Meier had felt the sensation that time was of the essence. He did not know why, but he knew that this cleared path had given him a chance. It was a chance he did not intend to w
aste.

“We must go at once!” said Meier excitedly. “Lead the way, Raven!” Raven just flapped and cawed in his
face.

“Not so fast, Meier! You still need to master dark magic. You have only just begun to understand. We will follow the path, but it is not so clear that roving dead do not still exist. We need to single out another
strigoi
sentry somehow and let you try again. You need to practice
…
and this time from further away. If we can’t fight with magic, you’ll be forced to use your laughably sad martial prowess and swordsmanship.” Meier sighed again. Of course, he was r
ight.

“Which way then?” Meier asked, but Raven suddenly stiffened on his
arm.

“
Quiet,
Meier!” he said softly. Raven suddenly flapped his wings and flew straight up and off around to the west. Then Meier saw
them.

It was a group of six bonewalkers in the distance, and they were all looking around in different directions, but mostly toward where Meier was. Raven flew around to the far side of them opposite Meier and began cawing loudly. He was trying to distract them. They took no notice and began walking to where Meier
was.

“Stop breathing, Meier!” cawed Raven over the long distance. Meier at once obeyed. He flew into the gray state and began to delve deep. His effort is what gave him away, for while he strained, his body rocked backward, and he was forced to take a step to catch himself. His boot had been heel deep in muck, however, and the step made a loud sucking sound. The bonewalkers hissed in unison and started to run toward
him!

It did not matter how deep he was then, for he had not been deep enough when they heard him. They saw the life spark and charged. Meier felt the urgency so strongly that he almost let his heart beat. With a push of pure will, he forced it down. Once he was around halfway as deep as he had been when he had cast the first spell, it became apparent that he was not going to make it in time. Ready or not, they were co
ming.

Meier’s desperation in those last seconds was all-consuming. He
must
make it through. He
must
get to the necromancer! He
must
save Valahia! But this was not what he needed, and he knew it. He pulled and grasped the coals. He felt them take him, rising like a fiery tide. The words finally came.
He must avenge them
all!

Meier opened his eyes, and once again, they glowed brightly with a burning purple light. He held out his bony hand and reached for the bonewalkers. They were upon him, literally feet away, when it happened. The one in the middle shuddered; and with a series of crackling crunches, the air around it warped, and it was violently compressed into a floating ball of bones no bigger than a foot ac
ross!