Disclaimer: Sorry it's so short, guys! I've been working on this on and off for a while now, hope you enjoy it!
Dinner was delicious; a perfect blend of rice, beans and meat. The bread was warm and fresh and the salad was crisp and refreshing. Jerizael patted her mouth dry with her napkin and stood from the table. Mogget slipped off his chair and gave her an inquisitive look.
"What are you going to do about the thing we found just earlier? You know, we must find the necromancer that brought her back. We can't have dead things running around when they visit," he put a special emphasis on 'they' giving a vague gesture towards the various Charter Sendings running around.
"I know that, of course. I'll be returning there shortly to deeper explore the problem. After that, we can make the preparations for their arrival," Jerizael replied. Mogget's eyes grew sharp.
"You're going back? But you've only just eaten and the moon is full! Do you really think it smart to go looking for the necromancer tonight?"
"I'm going back."
Jerizael swiftly walked away, leaving a disgruntled Mogget behind her. She came into the large bedroom and smiled to see that the Sendings had already set out her clothes. They quickly dressed her and then left the room while she strapped on her bells and sword. She had to get this thing sorted out by noon the next day, before her guests showed up. With a quick glance in the mirror, she stepped out of the room. Mogget waited for her, his normal grimace on his face.
"I don't see why this can't wait until tomorrow. It's getting quite dark and there isn't a cloud in sight. You know the moon will only encourage them." This sort of sentiment would have seemed kindly, if he hadn't said it with such smugness.
"I'm not as stupid as you think I am. The necromancer will surely be at work on a night like this. All the easier to find him."
"Well, just to let you know, I recently received a message that they will be getting here earlier than expected. Probably just after first light."
"Splendid." She turned away and walked down the steps, frowning. That must mean they were traveling now. At night. This didn't bode well. Opening the door, she looked back at Mogget and gave a grim-looking smile. "May the Charter be with me tonight." She muttered as the came out into the cold night air. The sky was clear and the full moon shone bright.
Jerizael walked briskly towards the hill where she had sent Rellin to her true end. As she reached the top, she looked out across the valley surrounding the hill and looked for any light among the dark land. Nothing. With a sigh, she stooped down on the ground and plunged into death.
The cool rush of the first precinct lapped at her ankles and the grey light that covered the water was crisp and still. A glance in either direction showed nothing. She waded silently through the precinct with practiced steps. She could just feel a nagging pull in the back of her mind. Something was close. Probably in the next precinct. Words of power burned her mouth as she stepped through the first gate and into the second precinct. The pull was much stronger now, and seemed to turn her in the proper direction. She took cautious steps, making sure not to fall into any of the deep gaps of the river. Suddenly, she felt something pulling her down. She was forced into a crouching position, water lapping at her knees and chest.
She glanced up and around, searching for the source of the power that had manipulated her so easily. There: a figure that resembled a young man stood before her. His body was wreathed in flowing, burning flesh and steam rose from the water he stood in.
"I've been wondering if you'd come, Abhorsen." The words were burning and rimmed with the metallic tang of Free Magic. The necromancer suddenly bolted forward, drawing a blade licked with flame. He stopped, sword inches from her face, and gave a soft chuckle. "I really expected better from you."
She stood, unwillingly, and then tipped backwards. "You know what happens if I drop you, of course." His hand was resting in the air, tilted parallel to her body as if she were his puppet. He tipped it farther down, and she went with it. They both knew that just below her was a deep, deep pit. If she was lucky, she'd be carried away by the current before she drowned. If she was lucky.
Jerizael instinctively reached for her bells. Her hand went all the way down the line, lingering over each one to choose. The Necromancer waited for her to make a move. She undid the strap over Ranna, and began to ring it.
"Wrong choice," his voice was raw with Free Magic and she felt her self tipping slowly down. The water hit her back just as she twirled the bell with her practiced hand. The figure chuckled once more, unaffected by the bell. Then, Jerizael did something he hadn't expected. Her lips pursed and she whistled, clear and true. The deep sound mixed with the light, sleepy tune of Ranna. It was the equivalent of Saraneth, the binder. The two sounds seemed to dance around the figure before her, and then she felt herself pulled up lazily and set into an upright position. The Necromancer grimaced and felt himself being weighted to the ground by the power of the Abhorsen.
Jerizael pulled out her Charter spelled sword and swung it quickly towards his throat, stopping only centimeters away. He flinched, expecting contact. She waited for him to make the next move. He remained still, and then she saw the slight crease of a smile wrinkling his moving, burning flesh. She noticed the sound of water lapping around Free-Magic flesh to late. She spun open, leaving her sword on his throat and flipped Ranna back into its pouch in exchange for Kibeth. A quick flick of the bell into the air and she could control the dead beings movements for only a while. This was a strong foe, probably from beyond at least the fourth gate.
A black shadow of a Sixth Gate Rester loomed in the water, stopped only feet away from Jerizael. She focused all of her strength to jolt it away, so she could deal with the Necromancer. As she turned back, he lunged forward and grabbed her sword arm at the wrist. She cried out in pain as his flame-wreathed hand twisted her arm, but she would not let go of her sword. His face was close to hers, and she could feel his warm breath on her cheek.
"Nice try, Abhorsen," the words seemed to choke Jerizael, as the familiar tang burned through her throat.
By now, the dead being had made its way back and stood tentatively behind the necromancer. "Master Avis," it said through a newly fashioned mouth of dark flame, "The gore crows report that their Majesties are traveling now; with little protection."
The Necromancers eyes widened, and an upsetting grin grew on his face. Jerizael fought to ignore the pain, as she tried to inconspicuously replace Kibeth with another, much more threatening bell. Her hand stopped inches from the buckle over Astarael, frozen by the necromancer's power. She grimaced slightly.
"If you would excuse me, Abhorsen? I have more pressing matters at the moment. I'll be back for you later." He wrenched his hand off of her wrist and shoved her down into the water with surprising strength. "Make sure she stays, slave!" he spat, and then disappeared into the First Precinct.
Jerizael looked cautiously at the being. It was large, and very malleable, constantly changing from one shape to the next. It had consumed many lives, and wasn't sure which it preferred. Jerizael stood, wringing out her surcoat, and sheathing her sword. She delicately held her injured wrist. It was swelling, a good sign of a sprain or possibly a fracture. She whispered a spell of healing and numbing, the Charter Marks wrapping around the wound like a bandage. The dead creature grunted, and muttered "don't do that again," although the threat seemed empty and half-hearted. He didn't seem too excited about being left behind to watch the prisoner, when there were lives to be consumed in Life.
"You want to return to Life, don't you?" Jerizael asked, her voice as innocent as she could manage.
"Of course," it was smug and peevish, "What does it matter to the Abhorsen?"
"Who is that Avis to control a Sixth Gate Rester like yourself? Let's make a bargain. I won't stop you from returning to Life, if you don't stop me?" She bit the inside of her cheek and shut her eyes, bracing herself for an attack. But none came.
"He will find out. I will be punished."
Silence.
"Okay, you've got yourself a deal."
Jerizael took a sharp breath. Had that really just worked? The stood, baffled, for a second or two as the large black shadow waded slowly toward Life. She quickly turned and began to do the same, keeping a good distance away fro m the creature. Now she just had to get to their majesties before this Avis character did. This should prove interesting. She thought.