Unconventional Heroes 2 - Two Necromancers, an Army of Golems, and a Demon Lord Read online

  Two Necromancers, an Army of Golems, and a Demon Lord

  Two necromancers, an army of golems, and a demon lord – it sounds like a recipe for trouble, and for Timmy, it definitely is.

  To earn his pardon and avoid horrible torture and/or gruesome execution, Timmy has to complete every mission the Council throws his way, most of which seem to involve extremely scary things trying to kill him. At least he’s got help – sort of. His help consists of an apprentice with designs on his castle (and her plans may or may not involve overthrowing him), a bureaucrat whose two greatest skills are fainting in the face of trouble and using people (usually Timmy) as human shields, and an elf with the world’s worst case of pyromania and enough magic to level a mountain.

  Somehow, Timmy’s got to get this bunch of unconventional heroes to work together. Trouble is coming, and it’s trouble of the kind that only a necromancer like Timmy could possibly find himself in the middle of. An army of killer golems is on the loose, which may give Timmy the excuse he needs to legally unleash wave after wave of killer zombies. Zombie versus golem – it’s every necromancer’s dream. And then there’s the demon lord that’s out to usher in the apocalypse. Sure, demons aren’t exactly his specialty, but there’s nothing that a good magical shovel to the back of the head can’t fix.

  One way or another, Timmy is going to get his pardon and a tax rebate too – even if it means going up against murderous golems, insane demon lords, or mischievous ninja rodents with a predilection for magical swords and the skills to back up the trash talk.

  Two Necromancers, an Army of Golems, and a Demon Lord

  L. G. Estrella

  The Unconventional Heroes Series Part Two

  Kindle First Edition

  Copyright © June 2015 L. G. Estrella

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Table of Contents

  Two Necromancers, an Army of Golems, and a Demon Lord

  About the Author

  More From L. G. Estrella

  Copyright and Disclaimer

  Two Necromancers, an Army of Golems, and a Demon Lord

  Timmy was a simple man, and he enjoyed the simple things in life. He enjoyed putting together nightmarish abominations that would have terrified even the most courageous of heroes, he enjoyed picking fights with other necromancers via express postage, and he really, really enjoyed annoying his apprentice. After all, Katie was just so adorable when she was trying to kill him.

  In his defence, he wasn’t nearly as horrible to her as his master had been to him. He’d never slapped a bunch of magic-suppressing seals on her, covered her in fresh antelope entrails, and then thrown her into a pit full of rabid lions with nothing more than a pointy stick. That had been his master’s way of ensuring that Timmy had been practicing his swordplay and could think on his feet. If Timmy made it out of the pit with all of his limbs intact and without contracting rabies, he had clearly been paying attention. If he didn’t, well, his master could always find a better apprentice, one who could fight off wild animals without the benefit of a proper weapon or magic. Timmy had never asked, but he had a suspicion that he hadn’t been his master’s first apprentice.

  Timmy had also never tested Katie’s ability to improvise by throwing a giant python through her window while she was asleep. He had no doubt whatsoever that his apprentice would need only a few moments to handle the python, and that was assuming that the poor reptile didn’t immediately go blind from all the pink in her room. Timmy, of course, had handled the python his master had thrown into his room by caving its head in with his bedside table. Lifting the thing had given him a crick in the back, but he couldn’t argue with results. Naturally, he’d been more than a little amused when his master had met his end at the hands of a zombie python-goat. It couldn’t have happened to a nastier person.

  Even if his apprentice couldn’t handle a giant python, those rats of hers certainly could. A normal rat was python food, but a gang of invisible ninja rats was a very different story. They’d have the python dead and roasting over an open fire inside of five minutes – two minutes if Rembrandt was there. That rat was a genius with a blade.

  Yes, Timmy was a wise and benevolent paragon of masterly virtue. The worst thing he’d ever done was barge into Katie’s room screaming and throwing fake knives at her to make sure she could wake up in time to survive a surprise assassination attempt. The girl, who’d been eight years old at the time, had batted the projectiles aside with her shadows and then promptly used those same shadows to pick up a wardrobe and hurl it at him. She might have spent the rest of week plotting his demise, but he couldn’t have been happier.

  His expert training had produced a wonderful, young necromancer, who would almost certainly go on to surpass him. The only downside was that she’d probably overthrow him and take the castle. Oh well, that’s how things were for necromancers. If he were lucky, he’d get to retire somewhere nice once she took over. Maybe he’d spend a few years on the road, seeing the world and overthrowing a government or two. He might even get paid if the governments he overthrew were Everton’s enemies.

  Today, however, Timmy was going to take a page out of his master’s book and do something completely ridiculous. It was for Katie’s own good, of course. The trick would be going through with it and coming out of it alive. Katie was very good at holding grudges. With a small army of ninja rats at her disposal, he’d have his work cut out for him surviving the next few days in one piece. Still, it would be worth it. How often could he throw his apprentice out of a tower window and honestly claim it was for completely educational purposes?

  Timmy smiled and gave himself a mental pat on the back. He’d learned the hard way that actually trying to pat his own back too hard could result in a dislocated shoulder. Truly, he was a wise man.

  In front of him, Katie peered out of the tower window. Her eyes narrowed in that magnificently spiteful look of suspicion that let him know that she knew exactly what was about to happen and how much he was going to enjoy it. Her expression also let him know how utterly unimpressed she was. If looks could have killed, he would already have died several hundred times over. Thankfully, Katie couldn’t kill him with her eyes – yet. It was probably only a matter of time before she learned to control her shadows with nothing more than a glance.

  “This is a long way up,” Katie said.

  “Relax.” Timmy was about to put one arm around her, but the rat perched on her shoulder took a swipe at him with a miniature scythe. The rodent’s choice of weaponry was menacing enough, and the little blighter would have looked absolutely terrifying if the billowing robe it wore had been any colour other than bright pink. It hurt to look at it. “We’re here to practice. Remember our last mission? We almost died when we fell off that dragon. We’re here to make sure that never happens again.”

  “Is that so?” Katie folded her arms over her chest and glared. It was about as menacing a glare as a ten-year-old girl could produce, and it had no effect whatsoever on Timmy. Far scarier people than Katie had done a lot worse than glare at him. “And why does that have to involve me getting thrown out a window? Are you sure this isn’t some plan to get rid of me before I can overthrow you?”

  He ruffled her hair and grinned when she tried to kill him with her eyes again. Oh, what a great apprentice he had. When her frostiest glare failed to kill him, she tried to kick him in the shin, but he was more than ready for it. He yanked his leg out of the way and ruffled her hair again. “This is for your own good. You need to learn how to fly
using wings made out of your shadows. Think of how useful that could be. You could escape angry mobs and overzealous paladins. Did you –”

  “Yes, I know that angry mobs and overzealous paladins are two of the leading causes of necromancer deaths each year. You tell me that every time we go near a town or a church. I’m not a child anymore. I can take care of myself.”

  “Actually, you are still a child, and I keep telling you because I don’t want you to become another necromancer statistic.” Timmy shuddered. One of his master’s rivals had met his end at the hands of an angry mob led by an overzealous paladin. It had taken the villagers three days to clean up the mess, and there hadn’t even been enough left for his master to turn into a zombie. It had been a nasty, nasty way to die. “It would also take forever to find another apprentice, and then I’d have to spend years training them to do all of my paperwork as well as you do it.”

  “I suppose that learning to fly could come in handy.” That grinding noise was definitely the sound of Katie gnashing her teeth. That could not be good for her dental health, and corrective dentistry was outrageously expensive, especially for necromancers. “But there has to be a way to learn that doesn’t involve murdering me.”

  “If I wanted you dead, you would be. Besides, even if you did fall to your death, it wouldn’t be me murdering you. It would be gravity.” A shadowy claw swiped at his head, and Timmy ducked. Interesting. She was getting faster with that. “Look, it’s perfectly safe.” He pointed out the window. “See? I’ve got three zombie wyverns waiting out there to catch you if something goes wrong. You’ll be perfectly fine.”

  There were indeed three zombie wyverns circling the tower. After losing several on their last mission for the Council, Timmy had put in a special order with some huntsmen he knew in the mountains. It had cost him a pretty penny although Gerald’s ridiculously detailed knowledge of tax loopholes combined with Katie’s gift for barely legal paperwork had certainly cut the cost. He’d even managed to attach working crossbows to these zombie wyverns, which was bound to come in handy someday. The next time an archer shot at his zombie wyverns, they could shoot back. It was another problem solved – unless the archer in question was a fire-obsessed elf with way too much power.

  For a second, Timmy was certain he’d convinced Katie. He could be very persuasive when he wanted to be, combining the tenacity of a hungry honey badger with the wheedling talent of a starving aardvark. That was when Avraniel decided to say something. The elf had accompanied them to the tower, ostensibly to provide moral support, but in reality to enjoy the sight of Katie being thrown out a window. She’d managed to go a few weeks without killing, maiming, or burning anything, so she was overdue for a bit of general malevolence. He should have been grateful that she’d chosen to watch instead of simply hurling Katie out the window herself.

  It didn’t help that the elf and the rats that Katie was so fond of had taken an immediate dislike to each other. He was sure that sooner or later, he’d either find the elf tied to the ceiling and surrounded by angry rats, or he’d find the elf enjoying a few rodent-based delicacies. As tough as Avraniel was, he had his money on the rats. There were a lot of them, and they were devious, devious creatures.

  “You know, those zombie wyverns aren’t very agile.” Avraniel smiled at Katie. Given that she possessed the unearthly beauty common to most elves, the psychotic gleam in her amber eyes was genuinely unsettling. It was like staring into the eyes of a hungry, deranged dragon. “I mean they’ve dropped things before. Remember that bear you asked one of them to carry? It took you an entire week to clean the mess off the cobblestones.”

  Timmy fought the urge to hit her with his shovel. Not only was she highly likely to dodge the attack but it would also give her the excuse she needed to start slinging fire everywhere. The castle cost enough to maintain without her levelling a sizeable portion of it.

  “Thank you for reminding us,” he ground out. “That bear was quite expensive.” He took a deep breath. “Katie, don’t listen to her. She’s only trying to scare you. And if you look down, you’ll see that I’ve had a big pool of water put in below the tower to break your fall. I even used fresh water instead of moat water.”

  Calling what was in the moat water was an exceedingly generous way of putting things. It was closer to a mix of poison, rotting corpses, and acid. Heck, Timmy had once seen it dissolve an assassin in about the time it took him to rattle off a list of his friends on the Council. Needless to say, he did not have a lot of friends on the Council. Katie appeared at least partially mollified, and Timmy gave himself another mental pat on the back. Of course, Avraniel had to say something else.

  “You do realise that at this height, idiot, the twerp might as well be jumping into a pool of rocks.” And that was another thing that had changed. At some point in the last week, Katie had been upgraded from girl to twerp while Timmy remained stuck at idiot.

  “You are not helping.” Timmy scowled and tried to project as much menace as he could. He could be very menacing when the situation called for it. Unfortunately, Avraniel wasn’t the least bit intimidated.

  “I’m not trying to help.” The elf snickered. “I think it’s funny watching the two of you argue.”

  “I think she might be right.” Katie grimaced. She hated agreeing with Avraniel about anything. “This doesn’t seem very safe.” She shifted nervously from one foot to the other. “Maybe we could start closer to the ground. How about – ah!”

  Timmy gaped as his apprentice and her rat vanished out the window. He hadn’t done anything yet, so how had that happened? He turned his head. Avraniel. The elf slowly lowered the foot she’d used to kick Katie out the window. He stared at her as though she’d grown a second head.

  “What?” The elf shrugged. “I got bored, and you two jerks were wasting time. All I did was speed things along.” Her eyes narrowed. “That rat of hers also stole part of my lunch yesterday. It deserved to go out the window.”

  “Are you serious?” Timmy made a choking sound. “That’s why you kicked her out the window?”

  “What? I don’t like people dawdling, and I really don’t like it when people take my stuff.” Avraniel’s eyes blazed, and the temperature in the room began to rise. “That little bastard took a bite out of my sandwich and then went running straight to the twerp for protection.”

  Timmy ran over to the window. This was not going to end well.

  “Ah!” Katie flapped her arms madly as she tumbled toward the pool of water. It was at times like this that Timmy wished the castle wasn’t so tall. “Ah!”

  The rat had fallen off her shoulder, but it wasn’t in any real trouble. It had deployed a tiny parachute and was angling itself toward one of the castle’s windows, squeaking furiously and shaking one fist at Avraniel. He had a feeling that the elf was going to get a visit from the castle’s resident rodents sooner rather than later, and it was not going to be pleasant.

  “That tiny bastard. I can’t believe he had a parachute.” Avraniel pointed with one hand, and sparks flared to life on her fingertips.

  “Don’t even think about it.” Timmy grabbed her hand. “No killing people, rodents, or zombies in the castle unless you have a very good reason.”

  “He ate part of my lunch. He has to die!”

  “That is not a good enough reason.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and she shoved his hand away. “Fine, idiot.” She waved at Katie. “Hey, twerp, stop screaming and make your wings already. Honestly, kids these days have crappy survival instincts.”

  When Katie continued to fall, Timmy was forced to concede that he was maybe – just a teeny, tiny bit – worried about her. But Katie had always done well under pressure. There was something about being mere seconds from a horrible fiery/squishy/acidic death that brought out the best in her. Heck, she’d first shown how dangerous her shadows could be when she’d wandered into his laboratory and almost gotten crushed by one of his rebelling creations. A massive fist made out of shadows had pulveri
sed the zombie rabbit-badger-wolverine-basilisk, and Timmy had known then and there that he’d picked the perfect apprentice. What other six-year-old could do that? Nobody. His apprentice was the scariest six-year-old in the world.

  Things finally took a turn for the better when Katie stopped shrieking, which was a relief since her shrieking had become ridiculously shrill, long enough to craft wings out of the shadows around her. They were an imposing sight: voluminous, reptilian wings that stretched out majestically on either side of her and glittered darkly in the sun like the night sky studded with stars. There was only one not-so-small problem: she was still falling, no matter how hard she flapped her wings.

  Avraniel shrugged. “Hey, she’s still falling. It looks like she didn’t make those wings solid enough. Twerp, make those wings of yours smaller but more solid.”

  “You’re actually helping her?” Timmy stared. “You’re not, I don’t know, going to throw fire at her or anything?”

  “Well, it wouldn’t be fun if she actually died. Who would I annoy then? And she kind of reminds me of myself when I was a girl: clever, ambitious, and slightly murderous. Sure, I was much more intelligent, pretty, powerful, and –”

  “I get it. You were awesome even when you were a little girl.” Timmy peered down. Katie had halved the size of her wings, but they looked much more solid. At last, her descent began to slow as her wings flapped furiously. Unfortunately, her wings began to tremble under the strain, losing their solidity. He’d have to ask her about that later. Perhaps her shadows weren’t suited for demanding, long-term use. Most of the time, she summoned them for quick tasks, like slicing things in half. When she did keep them around for longer periods of time, it was usually for relatively easy chores like sweeping or cleaning. At least her descent was slowing – or not.