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  Two Necromancers, a Dwarf Kingdom, and a Sky City

  Two necromancers, a dwarf kingdom, and a sky city – it sounds like a prelude to mayhem, and given Timmy’s luck, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.

  To keep his castle and earn his pardon, Timmy has his work cut out for him. Whether it’s rescuing princesses, crushing hordes of goblins, or dealing with eldritch abominations, Timmy and the gang are there to save the day – and rob the occasional crime lord.

  But saving the day isn’t always easy. Timmy might be an eminently sensible necromancer, but he has to deal with a young dragon who is convinced that every problem can be eaten, an elf obsessed with property damage, an ancient vampire who can’t get through a mission without being impaled repeatedly, a semi-retired legendary swordsman, a bureaucrat who has finally mastered the art of screaming and swinging a frying pan, and an overly ambitious apprentice doing her best to be more menacing despite loving the colour pink.

  It’s hardly a surprise when things don’t exactly go to plan.

  With war on the horizon, Timmy and the others have their hands full. Rescuing a princess can be difficult at the best of times, but rescuing a princess from one of the most powerful crime lords in the world? That’s going to be tricky.

  And that’s not their only problem. Ever wonder whose job it is to deal with rampaging hordes of goblins that are about to overwhelm a kingdom of dwarves? Well, that’s Timmy’s job. Isn’t he lucky? On the upside, he finally has an excuse to deploy another army of zombies. He’s going to teach those goblins a very important lesson: never, ever get into a war of attrition with a necromancer.

  One necromancer is dangerous. Two necromancers with a dragon, a vampire, a swordsman, an elf, and a bureaucrat – that’s downright deadly.

  Two Necromancers, a Dwarf Kingdom, and a Sky City

  L. G. Estrella

  The Unconventional Heroes Series Part Four

  Kindle First Edition

  Copyright © November 2019 L. G. Estrella

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  More From L. G. Estrella

  Copyright and Disclaimer

  Two Necromancers, a Dwarf Kingdom, and a Sky City

  To my sister, for always putting up with me.

  Chapter One

  The wagon trundled along the deserted road, looking very much like a perfect target for an enterprising bandit or ten with an interest in moving up in the criminal world. From its lavishly decorated exterior to the single man tending to the thoroughbred horses, it was clear that the wagon belonged to a man whose wealth was eclipsed only by his lack of common sense. The fact that minor concealment magic had been used to hide the contents of the wagon only added to its already considerable allure. No merchant would ever have bothered to hide the contents of an empty wagon. There must be some kind of fabulous treasure inside – treasure the aforementioned bandits could liberate and split amongst themselves, perhaps after engaging in the ancient and noble bandit practice of backstabbing to thin their numbers and thereby increase the size of each share.

  If there had been any doubts whatsoever about the benefits of attacking this particular wagon, they had been assuaged when the bandits had spoken to some of their informants in the city nearby. The owner of the wagon had foolishly flaunted his wealth to the local merchants, and he had inquired about all manner of expensive and exotic goods before continuing on his journey. A fool – especially an ostentatious one – was bound to be parted from his money sooner or later, so the bandits were actually doing him a favour. Instead of suffering through years of heartbreaking losses and bad decisions before becoming destitute, he would have the glorious honour of donating his wealth to a truly wealthy cause – their advancement in the highly competitive and extremely crowded world of banditry. They might even let the poor fellow live. After all, he might get lucky and make more money, which would give them the chance to rob him again. It was like throwing a little fish back into the ocean, so it could grow into a bigger fish that was worth keeping.

  Sadly for these bandits, their dreams of wealth, fame, and fortune were about to come to a moderately horrible end. A few of them might even find themselves on the bad side of a very young but very hungry dragon.

  * * *

  Timmy glanced over his shoulder. “You are one lazy dragon.”

  I’m not lazy. Spot promptly ruined his attempt to paint himself as a conscientious, hard-working dragon by flopping onto his back and draping his head across Katie’s lap. When the girl continued to read her book, he nudged her with his head until she gave him a scratch under the chin. He preened and gave Timmy a look full of draconic pride. I’m resting.

  “Resting?” Timmy raised one eyebrow. He’d split his attention between the road ahead and the zombies he had patrolling in the shadows and in the skies. It was a miracle the wagon hadn’t broken down. Whoever was responsible for maintaining this road had done an abysmal job. Some of the potholes were bigger than he was, and entire sections of the road had been overgrown by weeds. They’d even passed a small oak tree growing in the middle of the road about half an hour ago. “All you’ve done today is eat.”

  I was hungry. Spot smiled toothily, and Timmy frowned. There was some food stuck in between the dragon’s teeth – food he’d have to deal with later if he wanted to maintain Spot’s excellent dental health. A dragon with a toothache was an irritable dragon, and an irritable dragon could easily mean a dead everything else. They had new food here – tasty food.

  “He is a baby dragon, master,” Katie pointed out as she rested her book on Spot’s head. It took her a few tries to find a suitably flat portion of the dragon’s skull. It did not help that Spot seemed to be giving serious consideration to taking a bite out of the book. Admittedly, it was bound in human skin. Ancient necromancers had insisted on binding many of their most important works in human skin instead of something more sensible. It might explain why so few of the original treatises had survived over the years. “If he can’t be lazy when he’s a baby when can he be lazy?”

  “I suppose you do have a point.”

  It was hard to call something that was more than seven feet long a baby, but Spot was still a baby by draconic standards. By the time he reached the draconic equivalent of his teen years, he’d be well over thirty feet long. Yet despite his rapidly increasing size, Spot was still distinctly lacking in draconic majesty. His head was still a bit too big, his wings were still too large, and his tail was still too stubby. To put it bluntly, Spot looked kind of like what a badly inebriated caricaturist might have come up with after ten too many glasses of wine. On the upside, Spot’s unusual appearance made him oddly adorable despite his ability to breathe fire and turn a cow into mincemeat in less time than it took Timmy to tie his shoelaces. Spot’s enemies were also likely to underestimate him, which usually ended in lots of fire, plenty of teeth, and one well-fed dragon.

  “And to be fair, there isn’t much else for a dragon to do in Tarelan.” Timmy chuckled. “Unless you count burning it down as a suitable activity.”

  “You did
tell Spot and Avraniel not to burn the city down while we were there.” Katie gave Spot a gentle bonk on the head. He’d decided that she was trying to hide food from him, and he’d shoved his snout into one of her pockets only to discover that the only thing in her pocket was a pouch full of the ashes of a long-dead warrior. If something happened to her zombies, she could use the ashes to summon an ashen spectre of the warrior. It wouldn’t be the strongest thing around, but it never hurt to have a backup plan. Unlike Spot, Katie would not be able to laugh off getting hit with a sword. “At least, not on this trip.” Given how strange some of their missions had been, it was entirely possible they might have to come back to burn Tarelan to the ground.

  “We’re trying to get attention – but not that kind of attention.”

  A few squeaks came from the back of the wagon. Rembrandt was there, along with half a dozen more of the ninja rats, and they were all tending to their weapons and equipment although Rembrandt did take a moment to glare at Spot when the dragon continued to rummage through Katie’s pockets. The dragon, of course, ignored him. Rembrandt was a rat – albeit a ninja rat – and dragons did not usually pay much attention to the opinions of rats unless those rats happened to be the demolition rats. Apparently, rats were worth listening to if they believed in the beauty of fiery mayhem and enjoyed the deployment of increasingly powerful and obnoxious explosives. Ready access to dragon fire had only upped their capabilities, and the demolitions rats had spent many a pleasant afternoon with Spot and Avraniel rearranging the landscape near the castle.

  This mission was perfect for the rats since they could use their small size and ability to turn invisible to catch their opponents off guard. Elite soldiers and expert warriors could give them a run for their money, but tonight they’d be up against run-of-the-mill bandits. The bandits would be lucky to land a single blow, and any rodent unlucky enough to get hit was sure to be relentlessly teased by the others.

  The rest of the wagon was filled by some of Timmy’s zombie warriors. A normal wagon would have struggled to fit the huge, heavily armed zombies. However, the wagon Timmy had chosen was not only big enough to draw the eyes of aspirational bandits but also large enough to seat the zombies comfortably. It was a pity he didn’t have access to the space-saving magic that Mike the corpse dealer used. He would have paid good money to see the looks on the bandits’ faces when a zombie hydra-drake-salamander emerged from the back of the wagon. Oh well. Watching his zombie warriors deal with the bandits should still be fun.

  “Don’t forget, Katie, we’re trying to get robbed. Nobody is going to rob us if they know we have a dragon. Bandits might not be the smartest bunch, but they do tend to have at least some sense of self preservation.”

  Spot raised his head and growled. The sound would have terrified any normal person, but Timmy spent at least fifteen minutes a day with his arm shoved into Spot’s mouth, so he could clean the dragon’s teeth. A little growl was not going to bother him. Nobody steals my stuff!

  The young dragon had begun to grow a bit more possessive of his things lately, and Timmy had taken careful note of the little hoard of trinkets and knickknacks he’d accumulated in his part of the castle, to say nothing of the bizarre array of things Spot had dropped off at his vault at the bank. There wasn’t anything incredibly expensive in Spot’s hoard – he included anything he thought was interesting, like shiny rocks he’d found in nearby rivers and streams – but hoarding was supposedly a very important part of a young dragon’s development, at least according to the unpublished text Timmy had managed to get his hands on. Sadly, it was difficult to know how reliable the text was since most of it had been burnt to ash, and the parts that were left were badly singed. The author had clearly met the same end as so many other dragon researchers. Timmy had also tried to set up correspondence with a few experts only to find out that most of them were also dead. The few that were still alive had retired and wanted nothing to do with a dragon, even a young one.

  It was a good thing that Spot wasn’t vicious or mean. For all of her faults, Avraniel had seen to it that the dragon was properly socialised. People he knew and liked were perfectly welcome to come and marvel at his hoard – even roll around in it – so long as they didn’t try to take anything. And when Spot asked to frolic in the castle’s treasury, he was always careful not to damage anything. Unlike Avraniel, Spot had never tried to swipe anything either.

  “The point is,” Timmy continued. “We need the bandits to come to us. We don’t know where they are, and finding them could take a while. The best way to find them is for them to find us.” He smirked. “They’re bandits. Given the way I was throwing money around back in the city, there’s no way they won’t be on the lookout for us. And when they find us…” He trailed off meaningfully, and he wasn’t disappointed. Katie, the rats, and even Spot all cackled malevolently although in Katie’s case it really did come across as more adorable than menacing. He reached back to ruffle her hair and then leaned to the side to avoid a swipe from shadowy claws. “You know how the saying goes. You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.”

  “It is a good plan.” Katie reached up to adjust her glasses, which was something she did whenever she was thinking deeply. It was a habit he’d tried to wean her out of, but she was convinced it made her look more villainous and imposing. He disagreed. It made her look like she needed to get a better-fitting pair of glasses. “But how can you be so sure they’ll know about us?”

  “Let me tell you a story,” Timmy said. Spot perked up, and he chuckled. “And, no, Spot, this isn’t going to be one of those stories your mother tells you where a dragon saves everybody and eats all of the bad people. The dragon huffed. He liked those stories – especially the parts where the dragon got to burn heaps of stuff. “Once upon a time, the Elerian Combine was a thriving nation that prided itself on bringing together a host of disparate groups, creating unity and harmony out of chaos. But when the last king died without a clear successor, the whole thing took a turn for the worse. They might still call this place a country, but it’s not. There’s no unity and nothing even remotely resembling national leadership. Every large city or province has its own rulers who look out for their own interests.” Timmy smiled thinly. “It’s not surprising that in some areas, criminal organisations have risen to fill the gaps. With a bit of luck and a fair of bit of blood, a suitably talented and ambitious crime lord can take over an entire city – if not in name, then certainly in practice.”

  Timmy gestured at their wagon and the thoroughbred horses pulling it. “But crime is expensive because bribing officials, hiring assassins, and employing small armies of mercenaries isn’t cheap. Banditry might not bring in the same kind of money as large-scale tax fraud, but it does have great profit margins since it’s so easy to do. Any good crime lord will ensure that their bandits have contacts in nearby cities to tell them whenever someone worth robbing shows up. Before we got here, I did some digging. I know roughly who is in league with the bandits, and I made sure to put on a good show for them earlier.”

  “So all of those stores we visited…” Katie’s grin widened. She must have been wondering why he’d splurged so much before. He wasn’t stingy, but he did like to be sensible when it came to spending money. He knew better than anyone that money did not, in fact, grow on trees although there had been that crime syndicate run by elves a few decades ago that had almost managed to pull it off. His castle wasn’t going to renovate itself, and he wasn’t about to cut corners and hire novice craftsmen. No. He was going to do it right and hire experts to make sure that his castle was the very best it could be. “You wanted them to see us, so they would tell the bandits.”

  “Exactly.” Timmy could practically see the gears turning in his young apprentice’s wonderfully malevolent mind. Katie had a tendency to overcomplicate things, but she also learned very quickly. Fiendishly complex schemes could be incredibly satisfying to pull off, but they could also go wrong far more easily. It was why instead of ranting and
raving when he had his enemies cornered, he preferred to simply whack them over the head with a shovel. He had no doubt whatsoever that Katie would be adding this scheme to her repertoire.

  “And spending so much money doesn’t even matter,” Katie murmured. “Because we’re going to be stealing it all back anyway – plus extra.”

  “Yep.” Timmy cackled, and he was proud of how much more menacing it was than Katie’s cackle although it ought to be. He was, after all, a Grand Necromancer, as well as the ruler of his own castle built atop lightless chasms of unfathomable horror and despair. “While we’re out here luring the bandits out, the others will be in Tarelan hitting them where it hurts. Those stores we visited are probably all working for our target, Lord Tarrick, and I’ll bet they’re storing most of their valuables in his base of operations in the city.”

  “So we’re going to draw his bandits out to interrogate them while we hit his base of operations in Tarelan for information, valuables, and anything else that might be useful?” Spot nudged Katie again, and the girl gave his belly a scratch. Far from acting like a typical dragon, Spot sometimes acted more like a large, scaly dog that just happened to fly and breathe fire.

  “That’s the idea.” Timmy’s expression sobered. “Our opponent is one of the longest-serving crime lords in the Combine. He is not an idiot. This would be a lot easier if he was. He might have a base of operations in the city, but his true stronghold is elsewhere. If we want to find him – and the princess he kidnapped – then we need to do some work first.”

  “Rushing in almost never works,” Katie mused. “And it has been a while since we’ve dealt with regular bandits. It’ll be nice, and it wouldn’t be good for us to get rusty.”