Previously…

The three warriors prepared themselves for battle. Already the barricade was falling apart and more hands burst through it. They stood in single file with Caleb at the front of the line. Sword in hand he prepared for his toughest fight yet. So much was riding on their success and Caleb wasn't about to let those who counted on him down. They had lost too many people already. One face permeated his thoughts. When the first zombie burst through the door, Caleb raised his sword. "Ral, this one's for you." And then he charged.

---

10- When Hell Comes A'Knockin'

One Hour ago…

Roiya Hall returned, looking like the proverbial cat that ate the equally proverbial canary. She was more of a tigress, though—too dangerous and cunning to be a domesticated animal. Her long, confident strides ensured Caleb's suspicions that she was up to something. He could feel everyone's distrustful gaze fall upon her when she entered through the door, smirking, her stunning eyes falling on the rebel warrior as she stepped up to him. Behind her, the door closed via the magical energies coursing through it. Caleb could have sworn he heard a lock shut close when that happened, but his attention was quickly drawn elsewhere when Roiya extended her gloved hand. "Deal," she said, awaiting Caleb's clasp.

Being a leader meant you had to be part actor. Always playing a role you did not like but were forced to due to circumstance. Right now that role was playing nice to this succubus. So when Caleb took her hand, he did so with a big smile on his face. "Glad to hear it."

Blunk regarded both of them with inquisitive eyes. He was a simple-minded creature. His mundane mind could not comprehend the complex negotiations he'd just witnessed. As far as he could understand, they here to steal some plans and go home. The guys did not seem to like the pirate lady so much…even after she saved them from the scary wizard man. What's more, she took them to this house where the old magic lady brought Caleb and Phobos (though he didn't much care for that last one) to them with magic, kindly offering them tea and cookies afterward.

The way Blunk saw it, they were all friends. So why did they treat the pirate lady like a bad girl? So much didn't make sense to the passling. Phobos was their enemy and yet here they were, fighting with him against Caleb's mama. Last they trusted Phobos he almost destroyed their home and took over the universe. Blunk may not be too smart but even he knew better than to trust somebody who betrayed you once. The wise passling would not give him a second chance.

This Roiya Hall looked real nice. She fought good too. Really good. Blunk saw her hack and slash at all the bad guys with spooky masks back in that alley with her freezing sword. A girl like that would be great to have in the resistance. If Blunk were Caleb, he would recruit her.

Big People are real confusing, he mused.

Best leave the hard-thinking to them and worry about the small stuff. Afterall, the small things more often than not were the key factors in deciding a victory. Say, Blunk thought, he just had a philosophical notion. Maybe later he would share it with his comrades. Blunk took pride in his little contributions to the team and would not be just a baggage handler or errand boy. His mama would be proud—seeing her little Blunkie Boo fighting to save the universe. And his cousins said he'd never amount to anything.

Phobos brushed by him rather harshly. Normally Blunk was not one to argue with the former ruler and powerful mage of Meridian no mater how rude he was, but after secretly patting his ego he wasn't about to be ignored like he used to be. "Hmph!" he said. That was it, that's all he said. Newfound confidence or not, that was still Phobos and the passling wasn't a fool. One wiggle of his finger and he'd be larvex meat.

Caleb and Roiya were discussing the finer points of their new alliance when Phobos brushed by them as well. He was heading straight for the door when he stopped, his figure as prone as a statue.

"What's up with you?" Aldarn asked before Caleb could.

Phobos' face was one of approaching disaster. He could do more than sense evil. He could sense magic. And right now the outdoors was flooded with it. "We're surrounded."

"Come again?"

The mage turned to Aldarn and for once he wasn't about to berate him. "Prepare yourselves! Our enemy is at the gates!"

"Which one?" Caleb asked and at once all the lights in the house flickered on and off momentarily. Every one who knew how to wield a sword; or a fire bolt, rushed to the nearest window to have a peek. Caleb pulled back the curtain as far as stealth would allow. A score of hungry red eyes glinted in the fading lamplight as it seemed the entire street was falling into darkness. When the lamps died, all he saw was red eyes…and much more of them. Shadows danced above the assembling mob and he figured it was going to be a two-pronged attack: one from the above and the other a direct assault. A battle on two fronts, every soldier's worst nightmare.

"By the Queen." He heard Aldarn mutter from the window beside him. "They're all over the place." His eyes darted up. "And they've brought the Negotiators with them."

"Those aren't Negotiators," Julian said. He was on one knee peering just along the edge. "And the wizard's with them. Just there…to the right of the second lamp." Caleb and Aldarn followed his instructions and spotted a cloaked figure hovering just a few feet above the ground. A strange, green glow permeated his aura and with a mental gesture he urged the mob forward. Slowly, the long-dead patrons of the Gizzard's Throat shambled their way towards the home. Overhead, the Negotiators glided from one rooftop to the next, eventually encircling the house.

"At least we don't have to worry about the wizard," Aldarn said. "The wards will keep him from using his magic."

"In case you haven't noticed the same goes for me." Phobos stepped back from his window, his gaze falling to his hands. Once these appendages commanded terrible powers. He struck down numerous foes with these hands, the fingers used to dance with magics so powerful that even his own mother, the former all-powerful Queen, fell before them. All they were good for now was holding a sword and Phobos had not done that in years. The last person he could recall using one on was his father, the very man who trained him in the art of the blade. Talk about irony.

"Sucks to be you right now," Aldarn said. "So what's our plan, Caleb?"

He thought about it. "Roiya, is there a way we can sneak out of here? Through the mines maybe?"

"Afraid not. While the tunnels run the length of the city there are only a handful of access points and they're all fiercely guarded by the Guild."

"What about a passageway? An escape route? Anything?"

"We could always try the back door," then she shrugged. "Though I'd wager they have that watched too."

"Maybe we fly?" Blunk suggested.

"And be target practice for that wizard out there?" Aldarn shook his head. "Sorry guys but it looks like they have the entire place quarantined. We so much as set one foot out that door and we're dead."

"Funny you should say that." The lady pirate said with regards to the mob outside. "Tell me, Julian; do some those fellows look familiar to you?"

Caleb's father looked outside and after focusing his eyes he caught on to Roiya's discovery. "Zombies?"

"What?!" Both Caleb and Aldarn asked incredulously.

"They are the living dead. That man right there was the bartender at the pub. His movements are irregular. Either he's under some kind of mind control,"

"Or his mind is no longer a factor," Roiya finished. "And since the Negotiators we fought earlier were anything but mortal, it's a safe assumption these men are of the non-living variety as well." Her hand gently made its way down to Frostbite. "It's been a while since I've crossed swords with a walking corpse. Not good fighters but when it comes to perseverance you couldn't ask for better. Once on this island, I came face to face with an army of golems who had—"

"Roiya," Julian called to her. "We—don't—care."

She grimaced. "And you used to be such the conversationalist."

"Where's Miss Pitterbee? She has to know of a way out of here?" As if on cue to Caleb's question, the portly old woman came wobbling in holding a tray of pastries including more of those cookies Blunk was so crazy over. "My. You all look so perturbed. Is there something bothering you?"

"Miss Pitterbee, the house is surrounded by…" he looked as his father, not really believing it himself. Julian gave him a curt nod and Caleb went on, "Zombies. I know it sounds crazy but,"

"Oh then the Necromancer must be here?"

"Excuse me?"

The woman laughed, sounding like a tea kettle whistling, placing the tray on the nearby dining room table. "The Necromancer. He's quite famous around these parts."

Roiya Hall stepped toward Pitterbee with a bemused face. "How come I've never heard of him?"

"Was before your time, I would reckon. Back when Limen was just a shanty outpost on the fringes of the frontier, he used to be our most famous resident. Could bring the dead back to life, he could. He was feared by many but we always managed to get along, so long as we stayed clear of each other's business. That's what's wrong with young people these days. Always sticking their noses where they don't belong." She sat herself down on her rocking chair and in true cliché form began knitting. Where the needles and cloth came from the ensemble had no idea but she went on talking as if it was normal to speak casually while the host of the undead lumbered outside your door. "People value their privacy. Why if I went about butting into your lives you'd be downright ticked, now wouldn't you? Oh my. So much has changed. No respect anymore."

Julian was shaking his head. "No this can't be right. Limen has been around for over eight hundred years. The time period you're talking about goes as far back as the second monarchy. To have lived that far back you'd have to be," he stopped himself.

"Be what, deary?"

"Well…if you'll excuse my bluntness ma'am, old."

"Old?" her eyes, muddled behind the mass of flesh that was her brow, furrowed. First he thought she would berate him for calling her that. Women, regardless of what realm they hail from, hate being told they're old. But then she smiled, "Yes. I have been around for quite some time. Seen many things, these tired eyes."

The lady pirate bent her knee as she lowered herself to more or less Pitterbee's level. She looked at the old woman like she never had before, suddenly wanting nothing more than to sit and have a nice, long chat. "There is much you've yet to tell me, Miss Pitterbee. And so much more I can learn. But I'm curious. How much do you really know about this city?"

"More than I'd like. But less than you think I do."

"You speak in riddles."

"I love riddles." She giggled happily. "Do you know the one about the songbird and,"

"Ahem!" Phobos was the only person uninterested in the woman's back-story. "Sorry to interrupt but need I remind you buffoons that there's an army of corpses gathering at our very door? Should we not attend to that first before we take refuge in the old woman's fairytales?"

"You're right, Phobos. For once." Caleb said. "Miss Pitterbee. You said you knew this Necromancer. Is it possible you can talk to him? Can you maybe convince him to cease his attack?"

Phobos chipped in. "Oh wonderful idea, boy hero. While you're at it, why don't you have the hag ask the Guild to hand over the plans and have us escorted out of the city? Why even stop there? I'm sure she'd able to convince your mother to cease her plans for universal conquest, give me back my scepter, and restore your Queen to the throne with but a kind word. Tra-la-la!" He fancy-stepped around the living room.

"Please ignore the prancing magician." Caleb said to Pitterbee. "He gets this way when I don't take him for a walk. Now how about it?"

Pitterbee lifted her heavy gaze to the warrior. "Sorry, son. As I said, the Necromancer left me alone so long as I left him alone. He was not one you would want to cross. Even in my prime, with all my closest colleagues and friends, we always gave him a wide berth." She shook her head. "I'm afraid he doesn't like me very much."

"Then is there a way out of here? Some way we can escape this house without being seen?"

"The tunnels!" Aldarn exclaimed. "She used magic to bring you and the wizard here before. Maybe she can do the same and transport us back."

"Teleporting within tunnels is dangerous work, sweetie. If you're not careful you can appear inside the rock which is usually the case. Instant death. I was able to save your friends because they were in a wide enough cavern that I was able to pick them out from all the rubble."

"Then can't you take us to where you last had our companions?"

Phobos stopped "prancing" and immediately protested. "I refuse to return to that worm-infested cave once again. The answer is no."

Pitterbee laughed. "That's good because I can't. My power comes from my god. In order to take us away from here I'd need to beseech his good will. For every thing I ask of him he asks double of me. It's the price you pay for a deity's help. Saving the two of you took a heavy toll on me."

"Then saving all of us might kill you." Julian stated.

"We can leave Phobos." Aldarn turned to him. "You don't mind staying, right?"

Phobos gave the humanoid a gesture from Earth that required the use of only one finger.

"Oh that's mature."

Pitterbee sighed. "Very well. I will beseech Melennee. But I will first need time to meditate…in silence." With startling vigor she hoisted herself from her chair. "Now where is my orb?" She asked and began looking around. "See here…Blunk, is it? Would you help me find my orb?"

Blunk turned to Caleb who said, "Go with her Blunk. And stay with her. Keep her out of harm's way."

Roiya spoke up. "There's a cellar. It's well-fortified and doesn't have any windows. She'll be safe there."

"Fine. You get her and Blunk down there as soon as they find the orb. The rest of us will try to barricade this place as best we can."

As Roiya left the room, Caleb regarded Phobos. "Know how to use a sword?"

"Since before you were born."

"Give him something to fight with," he said to no one in particular and moved toward the nearest window.

Aldarn stepped up to Phobos, removed a knife from his belt, and handed it to the mage who looked at him baffled. "What is this?"

"It's a hunting knife. Pointy end goes into the other guy."

"I demand you give me a sword this instant!"

"Don't have extra."

"You impudent little,"

"Play nice you two," Julian said on his way to join his son by the window.

Phobos raised the knife to Julian and said, "What am I supposed to do with this? At best I'll be able to tickle the zombies before they overrun me."

"Then at least both sides will benefit from this fight."

Phobos' eyes glared so much that they almost glowed.

At the window, Julian peered outside with Caleb. "What are they waiting for?"

"Probably for everyone to be in place before they attack. I wouldn't want my prey to have any chance of escape or make it possible for them to receive aid." He looked up. "No doubt those Negotiators have this whole place covered from top to bottom. When the zombies attack they'll pick out anyone that tries to make a run for it."

"Though we likely won't get that chance." His eyes found the wizard: a glowing green mass of devilish magic. "He's got this whole thing figured out. Makes me wonder what stake he has on us."

"Maybe we've done what Pitterbee said, and stuck our noses where they don't belong."

"Maybe." Julian then smiled. "But I'd rather think it's because we're so popular nowadays."

"Not like you to be so optimistic during times like this, dad."

"These are strange times, son," Julian said and then turned back to Phobos who was still arguing with Aldarn over the acquisition of a better weapon. "Strange times indeed.

---

When the attack finally came, Phobos was there to meet it.

Sort of.

He actually pointed out to the voracious zombie that came crashing through the window. Obviously their makeshift barricades proved futile in the event of a living projectile thrown headfirst into solid glass. The former man's head was twisted at a horrid angle, leaving no question that he had to be dead if he managed to get back on his feet. It was jarred to his left, his tongue, green and full of puss, hung dryly out of his mouth. He held in his hand a piece of wood which looked to have come from a stool. His attire hinted at a merchantman and while he was dead he held the stick like he knew how to use it. It has been said that zombies retain some notion of their past lives and that was the funny part. A couple of coins dropped from his pelt when he pulled himself back up. Upon seeing this, the dead merchant bent low to pick up the coins and place them, securely this time, in his other pocket.

That brief action left him exposed to a direct assault by Phobos. The prince, however, looked on in disbelief. No honor code held him at bay from striking a man—dead or otherwise—while he wasn't looking. He just did not want to sully his hands with grunts work. So he did the next best thing. "Julian," He called. The merchant had finally reoriented himself and was closing in. Phobos pointed. "Zombie."

Julian was just readying himself for a tango with another zombie who'd just come spiraling through another window when he heard Phobos. "What?" He asked without looking back.

"I said zombie." Phobos casually turned and went over to the last remaining chair not used for a barricade. It was sitting in the kitchen and the prince lounged himself there, crossing his legs.

Julian turned to Phobos. "What are you doing?"

"Helping." He pointed. The zombie shuffled after Phobos but with the prince out of his reach it turned toward the nearest available target which was Julian. A swing of his weapon hand clipped Julian lightly on his head though he managed to move back far away just to avoid a direct blow…and expose his back to the zombie who he was just facing a moment before. "Behind you," Phobos said.

Julian quarter-turned, parrying a blow from this zombie—who had been holding a curved sword—and kicked out, striking it square in the groin. The undead showed no hint of pain. It simply shrugged off the blow and went in at Julian with hunger in its eyes.

"Don't forget him," Phobos referred to the first zombie.

Julian ducked another blow from the baton and swept that zombie off its feet. With a quick turn he impaled the other one through the stomach as it hoisted the sword for a downward slash. A blade that thin and small was best used for cutting and the way it was wielded told Julian that this man in life had no concept of the proper form of combat.

But even with Julian's sword in his gut, the sword came down anyway. Julian brought up the pommel of his weapon to block and there was a brief spark as the two met. He could hear the other zombies shuffling to its feet. "Phobos!' Julian cried. "Get off your pompous ass and help!"

"I refuse to lend a hand until I am given a proper blade." He looked over his fingernails. "Until then, I am just a spectator."

"When this is over I am going to kill you." Julian shoved the zombie away with a shoulder butt and looked up just as two more flew in. They landed at awkward angles, bones cracking and limbs twisting in the wrong places, but they slowly got back up. Julian held his sword up in a fighting stance. Four opponents were no big deal to him. He was used to being outnumbered and surrounded. What really sucked about the situation was that the bad guys did not stay down; would not stay down; would only keep coming until he was dead.

---

At the other end of the house, Caleb and Aldarn faced a different kind of assault. They were like masked phantoms, seeping through the cracks and crevices of every portal and materializing before their very eyes. Caleb neatly decapitated one of the Negotiators by the time it fixed itself back on the material plane. The head rolled around along the ground until it came to a halt at Aldarn's feet. As if on instinct that came with years kicking around a ball when not planning raids against Phobos, he booted the head in one powerful motion, having it smack against the back door. Two other Negotiators came into view at just that time. They ignored their headless companion and came right for the rebel warriors.

As back in the alley, the combined efforts of skilled fighters proved too much for either assassin and they both wound up on the floor carved up or with ugly gashes on their exterior.

"These guys are nothing." Aldarn regarded his friend. "Caleb, go see if the others need your help up front. I can handle things back here."

"You want me to just leave you?"

"Lurdens fight better than these chumps. Look it's a narrow space; easy for one man to defend let alone two. I'll watch your back while you focus your attention to where the real fight is. Sides, you trust leaving your father's well-being in the hands of a pirate and an ousted dictator?"

Good point, Caleb thought. Though the thought of leaving his best friend fending for himself did not sit well with him. All it would take was one lucky shot or hastily undertaken maneuver and Aldarn could be hurt. There would be no one to help him. Granted the house wasn't that big to begin with but with all the noise and with intensity of the battle growing by the second it would be like leaving Aldarn on the other side of a battlefield with no support. But this position needed to be covered and the heavy fighting would be up front. No doubt the Necromancer was just testing their defenses to check for weaknesses. Should his father and the rest be overrun there'd be no stopping them.

"I'll be right back," Caleb said just as another Negotiator was seeping through the cracks. "Worse comes to worse I'll send Phobos back here. I doubt he's doing much good anyway."

"Phobos watching my back? Why not just open the door and toss me to the wolves," Aldarn said though Caleb was already gone. The new intruder unsheathed its blades and got into a fighting stance. This one came up and ready with not one but two shortswords ready for action. Aldarn raised his. There was a brief scuffle before that assassin went down—the neck split open—the head hanging to one side.

"This keeps up and pretty soon I'll be bored."

---

Blunk cringed at the sound of something heavy—probably a body—slamming onto the floor above him. He shuddered to think that up there his friends were fighting a fierce battle against an undead foe and here he was nice and safe with an old lady trying to communicate with her invisible god. Passlings never had much need for deities. They were a race of realists. They believed in what you can see or hear. Of course they believed in magic… you can see magic.

But his kind were not ones to offer prayers to gods or spirits. Rather, passlings believed in an even greater force: luck. Luck it seemed was the driving force behind their entire existence. Blunk's people were small, unfit for combat let alone self-defense, and weren't exactly the brightest bunch out there. Oh they were cunning and understood better than anyone else alive that to run was the best way to save oneself from danger…that, and not putting oneself in a position where they would have to face danger in the first place. They were a cautious lot, always remaining out of sight and preferring to let the big people do all the work while they reaped the benefits.

Some would call them cowards. They preferred survivors. Passlings knew the one key element to survival was luck. How else could such a scrawny race like them last this long in a world where practically everything else could kill or eat you on a whim?

Among his people, Blunk was one of the luckiest. One need only look at his record of service to the rebellion and at the countless alien worlds he'd visited to see that this passling was indeed reeking of it—and anyone would tell ya, Blunk really reeks. So while he said no prayers or offered no sacrifices, Blunk would always look around himself, at the trees, the rocks, the sky…and solemnly tip his head to whatever had seen him through all these years.

He kept with him a small metal mace hanging beneath his dirty traveling cloak. It was crafted by Aketon, Aldarn's daddy. Despite its blunt shape, the mace was actually quite light and perfect for the passling's little arm. While its reach was short it provided for great maneuverability and could be used in a variety of close-range combat situations. And anything on the receiving end of that mace would definitely regret getting anywhere near this passling.

Blunk found he was grabbing hold of that mace right now. There was a part of him that went against his very nature that told him to leave the safety of the cellar and join in the fight. Like hell! Blunk was no warrior. There was a time during the final battle with Phobos where he openly admitted that he was but the guardians were around back then, and to be fair Cedric had his back turned. His heart, his little passling heart, beat strong. There was a well of pride there that went with knowing he fought alongside the best and survived. It went against everything he had been raised to believe in and warred with the instincts of his heritage that warned him to stay clear of trouble at all times.

But Blunk had grown quite used to getting out of trouble as he did getting in. So to whom should he lend his ear to? His heart? His instinct?

Perhaps it should be the old lady since right now she was trying to get his attention.

"Pardon me, deary," she began, "You mind telling your friends to keep it down. It's rather difficult to consult Melenee with all that racket going on upstairs."

Even Blunk was taken aback by the request. "Uh…you mean…go up?" It seemed his instinct won out and the warrior drumming in his chest had turned into a child playing with a cardboard box. "Caleb said Blunk should stay with you."

"I'm as safe down here as I am anywhere." Pitterbee returned to her consultation with her god as her fingers danced around the orb. "The wards are strongest here, by the way."

Blunk humphed. "Too bad wards no stop bad guys."

"They always protected me before."

"Not against zombies."

Blunk looked at her quizidly. Before he could ask a question all the noise above his head had ceased. There was a minor shuffling of footprints and then silence. Then he heard voices. "Fighting…stopped?" He asked out loud though did not directly at Miss Pitterbee.

"There," she said with a smile slouching its way across her fat face.

"There, huh?"

The old woman looked at him and smiled. "I think my god has just given his approval."

---

"They've fallen back," Roiya said. Taking a brief respite, the pirate laid against a wooden beam taking sharp breaths. She was only winded, not exhausted. Her blade, Frostbite, had left a shamble of frozen parts along the floor—what was left of her zombie opponents. One of them managed a lucky shot, and toppled her hat off her head. She sliced that one in half before picking up her hat, dusting it, and putting it back where it belonged. What's the use of being a dashing pirate if one did not have the look?

Roiya had fought in the living room, using the space to take full advantage of her speed. Not too far away stood Julian who had been leaning on his sword. He too was winded though in his defense his enemies were not frozen solid when hit by his blade so he had to work a little harder to bring his foes down for good. Hacked body parts lay before and around Julian. Some of those parts, namely the hands and fingers, were still moving. A severed leg kicked out at the knee while a zombie's face, or rather half of it, blinked over in Julian's direction. Its slimy tongue licked in and out of its mouth in a futile attempt to move the head toward him. Apparently the head intended to continue the fight. The whole thing would be laugh-out-loud funny in any other circumstance.

Caleb entered the room where he had been guarding the hallway that led to the front door. The youth did not look tired in the least. His clothes were covered in gore and he did not bother to wipe it as he took stock of the situation.

"Everyone okay?"

"I'm okay," Julian said and with a deep breath stood back up.

Roiya nodded.

"A splendid performance," Phobos commented while taking a bite out of one of Pitterbee's cookies. "Though I must say Miss Pitterbee will find it an awful mess to clean all this up. Good thing we're not staying here for much longer."

Julian turned on him. "Phobos!"

"I'm not deaf."

Had it not been for years of discipline, Julian would have gone over there and chopped his head off. Instead he glared and pointed his sword at the former prince. "You did nothing while the rest of us risked our lives in this defense."

"And what are we defending, Julian? This house? These cookies? Though they are rather good. Mm (Licking his fingers). I don't why I ever agreed to come on this damned mission in the first place."

"You came because I ordered you to." Caleb turned and said.

"You're skilled at giving orders. But not so much for accomplishing missions."

"Meaning?"

The mage stood up from his chair, making strides toward Caleb. In a sword fight there would be no question who the victor would be so it was safe to conclude that Phobos had no intention on instigating a fight. What he did have, though, was words and they can be as sharp as any blade.

"I think it's time we cut our losses and retreat. No closer are we to completing this mission now than when we first arrived. Since then, we've trudged through some dejected swamp, muddled our way through the city sewers, have been led into a trap, chased by pirates, nearly been eaten by worms and now face down an undead army with a powerful necromancer. I say Fate itself has conspired against our winning and any man with half a brain would come to the conclusion that the mission is lost and go home." Phobos stopped just short of meeting Caleb face to face. "It takes a strong man to admit when he is defeated. Show us you have the strength to admit defeat."

"That's pretty funny coming from a man who never knew when to call it quits. Didn't you try to take over the universe not once but twice?"

"That was different," Phobos said in a matter of fact tone. "I actually had a chance of success. With my mother out of the way there was no one to stop me save my baby sister and the second time around I had the scepter and outwitted Nerissa. Hence, my attempts at complete universal domination stood a far greater chance at succeeding than this mission of yours."

"Good," Caleb said. "That means we actually have a chance at winning this war with you on our side. I say this fight isn't over yet." Caleb turned to address his father and Roiya while Phobos began to contemplate what he had just heard. Did he just pay me a compliment? The notion unsettled the former prince more than anything the rebel warrior had told him in previous exchanges; he could not help feeling a strange sensation at the back of his mind. Was it…appreciation? Of course not! Still, it actually felt kind of—nice—to hear him say that. Not since Queen Weira and Jaden were any kind words spoken to Phobos.

How strange…

A loud stumble brought all eyes on Blunk who had unceremoniously made his entrance. The passling picked himself up and, checking again to make sure the coast was clear—of zombies—went straight to Caleb.

"Blunk! You're supposed to be looking after Miss Pitterbee."

"Old lady say god man talking to her now. She say that he say he help us leave."

"There's a bit of good news," Roiya said as she checked the edge of Frostbite for any blemishes. The blade was as flawless as ice.

"Something there's not enough of lately. Caleb, let's get going."

"Wait a minute, dad." Caleb stopped his father from heading for the cellar. An idea came to mind. "Not just yet."

"Caleb, those are zombies out there. Even we can't hold them off forever."

"Not to mention that Necromancer fellow," Roiya said. "Still bugs me that I've never heard of him before."

"And we still need to steal those plans from the Guild. Best we don't attract any more attention than we already have."

"I think we should do just the opposite." Caleb smiled.

"Here we go." Phobos rolled his eyes.

"It's time we switched tactics. Limen is a city where subtle wars are fought not in the open but in back alleys and dark corners. These forces like to do things in secret. So far only the Guild knows of our intentions and while I don't know who this Necromancer guy is working for you can bet his employers don't want word of Nerissa's plans becoming common knowledge either. If it did, the whole city will be up in arms over obtaining those plans and chaos will take over."

"You want to plunge the city into all-out war?" Roiya asked a bit unnerved. "How?"

"By making some noise." He turned to Phobos. "Phobos, you love attention right? Then it's time the citizens of Limen knew you were here."

"What exactly do you want me to do?"

"Simple," Caleb mused. "Be yourself."

It took a moment before the smile on Caleb's face was mimicked by Phobos. "I can do that."

---

The City Guard, a tool of the Lords of Limen, was not known for its adherence to the law. Many of the men who worked there were as corrupt as the criminals they supposedly imprisoned behind the penitentiary's brooding walls. The black towers jutted out of the prison like talons curved ever so slightly as to resemble a closing hand: a foreshadowing of the horrors that lay deep within.

Oddly enough the prison also served as the Guard's headquarters. Their previous establishment had been destroyed a raid by corsairs many years prior and with a lack of funds to rebuild they moved here, the one place more foreboding than any in all of Limen.

Two guards, both humanoid in appearance but with thick fur running down their exposed arms, stood guard on the highest tower. A large tooth protruded from one's mouth. This guard had a ring sticking through his nose which was almost pig-like. He was the larger of the two with bulging muscles and a heavy step, made more resounding by the addition of heavy platted armor. The armor was dirty, hadn't been cleaned in ages, but the Guard was known for its efficiency—not its cleanliness.

The other guard looked more human though a small, rat-like tail snaked from behind his back. He was barefoot. His toenails were long and yellow. Beady yellow eyes peered from behind his faceplate, eyes that could see far into the night.

There was a great flash that nearly blinded him.

"What the!!!" the humanoid with the rat's tail screamed as he dropped his halberd and covered eyes, frantically trying to protect them from sudden illumination. His comrade, whose eyes were less vulnerable, peered through the dying light to triangulate its source. The light was a mixture of green and purple made all the more brilliant by becoming a beam which shot upward into the sky before bursting into a thousand pieces. An incredible fireworks display!

"Sound the bell!" The large guard ordered his smaller companion.

"Don't need to," he answered back while squinting. "No way anyone could miss that. The whole city's awake now."

The big guard grabbed his comrade by the throat and hoisted him off his feet. "I said, sound the bell!" He threw him against the wall. "Never disobey my orders!"

"R-Right." The small guard said and disappeared into the tower. Moments later, the warning bell sounded out followed by a dozen more in short intervals. If anyone was not waken up by the light show, and there were few who were, they were wide awake now.

The guard fidgeted in his place. "Trouble brewing. About damn time!"

---

A lone figure stepped out of the once quiet home of Miss Pitterbee. Phobos, the former prince of Meridian, permeated with raw power as he left the confines of the warded home. Before him stood a host of zombies, scores of them—with their leader the Necromancer at the front.

The mage stared down the Necromancer. He knew that the undead wizard was the one he had to defeat. The rest were all just fodder to be cast aside. He didn't even care for the Negotiators lined around above him. Even when one threw a pair of needle-sharp knifes his way they bounced harmlessly off his magically created barrier. With a twitch of his eyebrow, Phobos turned said assassin into a pile of ash thanks to a magically induced fire spell. Three more Negotiators followed suit and the rest backed off from sight. It wasn't fear that drove them. The Necromancer sent out a mental signal that called them to fall back. He didn't want to lose his assets.

"A wizard," the Necromancer said in an echoing voice that was ancient and powerful.

"A corpse," Phobos shot back—with a fireball. The fireball vanished upon contact with his own magic barrier and the Necromancer was unphased. Phobos cocked his neck to his left. "Is that all?"

"Of course not." The Necromancer powered up; his body covered in a green glow.

Phobos followed suit and purple light emanated from his own body. Back in the house, Caleb and company watched as the two magic users prepared for a duel. Each unleashed a terrible energy beam which collided midway. The beams built up to such an intensity that they were forced to cover their eyes. Once the energy reached its peak, the combined masses blew up; creating a light show that could be seen for miles. The blast filled the night air with the aura of a small sun and sprinkled down to the earth below.

"Impressive," said the Necromancer.

"Not so much." Phobos never did respect his foes.

"I'll have to do my best then." The Necromancer raised himself above the ground. "Perhaps a wizard's duel?"

"As you wish."

Both combatants flew up about twenty feet. Phobos eyed the zombies on the street, the Negotiators on the roofs and the various residents of the local neighborhood who ran outside to see what the hell all the commotion was.

"I am known as the Necromancer. My real name is not important save that I shed it when I achieved this perfect form. Are you prepared to face a true master of the Art?"

"Prepared?" Phobos laughed. "You've no idea who I am do you?"

"Pray tell?"

A small audience had gathered. Many of the residents did not even notice the mass of zombies for they were too transfixed by the spectacle above them. Phobos gathered magic into his hands, preparing to do battle with all of his might. This whole day sucked! He was mad! Pissed! If he could not take out his frustrations on Nerissa or Caleb then at least this Necromancer will have to suffice.

"Then allow me to introduce myself." Phobos raised his voice so that all could hear. "I am Prince Phobos, Ruler of Meridian, Bane of Candracar and Foe to Nerissa and you area all DEAD MEN!"

---

A special thanks to Worker 72 and XV Dragon for inspiring me to write another chapter. Don't be fooled though. I'm still combating Writer's Wall, but I believe I will be able to finish this arc pretty soon. Yeah, I'm doing arcs now. Go figure.