Scholar of Decay (23 page)

Thrown sideways, bruised and bleeding from a gash on one arm, Aurek slammed into the cabinet and dropped to the floor—the remains of half a rat squashed under one knee. Scrabbling to his feet, he stared in horror at the creature that had attacked him. The zombies were not the only guardians the ancient wizard had left behind.

Nor, it appeared, were they the most dangerous.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t merely undead, for no living creature had ever worn flesh around that mismatched collection of bones. Diving under the massive table, hearing claws rip into the wood
above him, Aurek searched his memory for some clue as to the horror’s identity.

It would have to be a necromantic spell.…

And then his blood chilled as he realized what it had to be: a bone golem. Created from the previously animated bones of skeletal undead. No more intelligent than other golems, but strong, and virtually indestructible. Worse still, the physical attacks were not the greatest danger he faced—the laughter of a bone golem could kill, and usually did.

It’ll laugh soon. Head cocked, listening to the sound of battle, Louise backed away. She’d never been closer than the bottom of the stairs, but she knew what guarded the workshop. Although the family traditionally had nothing to do with wizards or wizardry, they were adept at recognizing an opportunity for personal advancement and, after the first time Louise had heard the bone golem laugh, she’d made a point of learning what it was and how it might be used against Jacqueline.

She had a number of such opportunities cached throughout Richemulot, just waiting for the fates to provide her with the final piece she needed to set them in motion—and lo, the fates had provided Aurek Nuikin.

The simple scholar he claimed to be would stand no chance in a confrontation with her sister. A journeyman wizard would die only a little less slowly. But if Aurek Nuikin had power enough to defeat the bone golem, he would have power enough to be an effective weapon against Jacqueline.

If the bone golem killed him, it proved he wasn’t strong enough for her purpose.

And it was all at minimal risk to her.

He had to defeat it before it laughed. Knowing what it was and what it could do would provide some small protection but not, Aurek feared, enough. Fire would destroy it, but fire would also destroy the rest of the workshop. If the golem burned with even half the intensity of the zombies, it would ignite every combustible object in the room.

A trio of ivory claws scored the heavy leather of Aurk’s boot, ripping away its protection. Another in the same place would tear off his foot.

Even if he had wanted to run, to abandon the book that held Natalia’s freedom, he couldn’t. The golem paced between him and the door.

All at once, the table’s protection was thrown aside as the golem finally figured out how to reach him. Aurek dove and rolled and felt his shoulders nearly yanked from their sockets as his pack was torn away. He screamed as claws gouged searing lines of pain into his back. Shredded, his clothing hung off his shoulders in a grim mockery of the fashionable dress of Pont-a-Museau.

Gasping for breath, he struggled to his knees, expecting another attack. When he turned, he saw the golem lift its horned head and its jaw begin to open.

All golems were susceptible to dispelling magic, but only if the wizard executing it was as powerful as the wizard who had originally created the creature. If it turned out he wasn’t powerful enough, he’d have spent all he had for nothing and leave himself defenseless.

But I haven’t much choice.

It was either take the chance or die for certain when it laughed.

Lifting trembling hands to shoulder height, Aurek clung to what little focus he could find and shouted out the words of the
spell, fighting not only the power that animated the golem but his own pain and exhaustion. Sweat ran hot, then cold, down his sides under the ruin of his clothes. His vision turned yellow, then orange; then black spots crept around the edges of his sight.

His abused lungs screamed for air.

The torn muscles across his back began to jump, each involuntary motion sending new agony to distract him.

He wasn’t … going to be … strong enough.

He could taste failure like rusty iron in his mouth.

Then, one bone at a time, the golem collapsed.

Panting, Aurek collapsed as well, barely managing to keep his face from smacking into the stone floor. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to lie there for an eternity or two until the world stopped spinning around inside his head. But it wasn’t over yet.

He couldn’t stand; his body refused to hold him, so he crawled to where the horned skull crowned a pile of bone. He had to be sure that it was truly, finally destroyed.

Passing his uninjured hand over the pile, he found a shaky focus and tried to detect any remaining trace of magic. For one horrifying moment, he thought he could feel an aura of power clinging to the bones, then they shuddered and, as time caught up with them, crumbled to dust.

Aurek knelt where he was, counting his own heartbeats to convince himself he still lived. Overhead, the three globes of light became six smaller globes, then eighteen specks, then nothing at all. Caught in a darkness so complete it was like being wrapped in fold after fold of black velvet, Aurek did the only thing he could think of.

He laughed.

Laughter. Touched with hysteria, but human laughter nonetheless. It sounded good after all the screaming that had been going on. Louise smiled and groomed her whiskers. She had her weapon, and she had Dmitri, who would teach her how to use it. Soon, she would be second-best no longer; she would be Lord of Richemulot.

And Jacqueline would be dead.

It took him half a lifetime to find his pack and another lifetime for his shaking hands to tumble out the tinderbox, strike a spark, and get the lantern lit. He had nothing left. No hidden strengths. No reserves. Nothing. But he was still alive, and the way to Natalia’s freedom lay clear.

Dragging the pack, pushing the lantern across the floor in front of him, Aurek crawled to the chair and somehow managed to pull himself up into it. When his torn back hit the horsehide, he sucked air through his teeth and jerked forward. No. It wasn’t time to relax. Not yet.

He rummaged in the bottom of the pack and fumbled out the package of food Edik had insisted he take. It was only cold meat and a biscuit with a small flask of water, but as any apprentice wizard soon learned, power used had to be replaced; it didn’t miraculously reappear. As he chewed and swallowed, Aurek tried to hold a vision of the food spreading throughout his body, replenishing his strength. By the time he finished, he could sit without swaying, but nothing else had changed.

It wasn’t important. He had the book.

He was reaching for it when his gaze fell upon a circular indentation in the cover.

The amulet had been a key, but the amulet no longer existed. The book would be protected—by more subtle protections than
zombie guards and bone golems. He couldn’t feel the protections, not in his current condition, but they were surely there.

Slowly, he drew his hands back.

In time, he would be able to open the book. He’d opened a number over the years of his scholarship and had no doubt that this one would succumb to careful, painstaking research as all the others had. In time. But not now. Not when he had no idea of what he faced. Even touching the book, unprotected by the amulet, could destroy it, or him, and he couldn’t take that chance.

Nor could he wait in the workshop until he regained his power. If the wizard who created the bone golem—and who very likely had been destroyed by the pact made with the Dark Powers in order to do it—had left any lesser precautions, he’d be helpless to deal with them. To have prevailed so far and then fall before a minor spell would be bitter irony indeed. His death would doom Natalia, regardless of how close to success he was at the time.

He had to live for her.

Picking up the lantern, but leaving the pack with its broken straps behind, he staggered to the archway and out onto the stairs. Somehow, he reached the bottom without falling.

On the landing, he turned and stared up at the dark entrance to the workshop. He should feel triumphant, but staying on his feet in spite of exhaustion and pain took all the strength he had. “I will come back,” he promised, clutching the stones for support. “My redemption is here, and I will claim it.”

From the shadows, Louise watched Aurek Nuikin stagger forward and decided that if her weapon was going to make it out of the catacombs in one piece, he needed help. Bone and muscle stretching and changing, she sat back on her haunches and then continued
rising up until she stood on two feet, furred but vaguely human.

The flickering flame of his small lantern made it easy for her to stay close by his back and remain unnoticed. She matched her footfalls to his, though she suspected he wouldn’t have heard her had she blown a trumpet by his ear. Her nose twitched continually at the blood-scent rising up off the wounds on his back, on his hand, and on his head, the rich, meaty smell enveloping him. When her stomach growled, she began to wish that she’d eaten the goblin regardless of the taste.