“One thing I know for sure,” I said, “is that a place like this is going to be riddled with booby traps. I figure a bunch of skeletons could be really useful for that. Better a skeleton takes a giant pendulum blade to the torso or gets run over by a troll-sized steel ball than any of us.”
“I’ll return to the cathedral,” Elyse said.
“Bring all the skeleton warriors and Fang back here,” I said. “Use Grast’s wagon so that you don’t scare the locals. I’ll go back to Market Street and raise the skeletons of the dead slavers and their goons. They’ll make useful trap fodder.”
“What should I do?” Rami asked, excitement making her voice quaver.
“You go with Isu and grab some torches to light our way down there.”
Isu folded her arms across her chest. “Really? You’re sending the former Death Goddess on a retrieval errand?” I nodded with an amused smile on my face, and she threw her arms into the air and followed Rami.
I turned to our party’s latecomer. “And Cranton…”
“I’m way ahead of you there, brother!” he said, eagerly packing some dried greenfoil buds into his smoking pipe. “I’ll have a celebratory puff and keep an eye on this place while you guys go and do your thing.”
I chuckled. “That’ll work, yeah.”
An hour later, just as the distant eastern horizon was beginning to turn gray with a hint of the approaching dawn, everyone was back at the fountain, with undead soldiers ready to die a second time and torches lit.
“Xayon, here we come,” I whispered as I led my warriors and companions into the darkness.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The smell of old death was strong here. Dried-out husks of bodies, cracked yellow bones, decaying leather, rusted steel. I didn’t know if I could smell it—or sense it?—more acutely because I was now the God of Death. It was far stronger than any tomb or crypt I’d explored before.
At the bottom of the stairs, we found ourselves in a large entrance chamber. It was very long, stretching 50 yards or so to the end, and was approximately 20 yards across. Pillars lined stone walls that had once been covered in detailed frescos in a myriad of colors. Most of the paint and plaster had crumbled away. Eight closed doors led further into the forgotten structure. The largest three were made from a black metal rather than iron like the rest.
I waited for everyone to file into the chamber and smiled to myself as I looked upon my army. It was small and motley, but I could depend on every one of my warriors, from the lowly unarmed slaver skeletons I’d just raised to the massive undead lizard and the zombie Crusaders. Sarge, one of my earliest skeletons, still wielded the paladin’s greatsword, and our victories thus far were a testament to his mastery over it.
It was true that I had less than two dozen troops in total now, not counting the women, but this little group standing before me was a seed, an oak shoot with a single leaf that would grow into a towering tree.
I closed my eyes, and instead of the two dozen footmen standing before me, I saw a vast army of undead covering a plain from horizon to horizon. A million undead troops, maybe more, all serving me, each willing to go to the ends of the earth for me.
It was a glorious vision, one worth working toward. I would have that army one day. I didn’t believe in destiny, but I would make it happen.
“The entrance is secured,” Elyse said. “Grast is up there with two Crusaders and my official letter. As discussed, he’s going to tell anyone who asks that this is private Church business and that nobody is allowed down the stairs.”
“Good.”
“And I’m ready,” Rami said, “to do whatever it takes to bring Xayon back.”
Isu scoffed but suppressed it quickly before she flashed me a tight-lipped smile.
“I will do whatever the God of Death asks of me,” she purred. Her delivery was smooth, but there were barbs in those words.
“I’m still feeling pretty mellow from the ol’ greenfoil,” Cranton said, a grin plastered across his face. “But I’m ready, man. I remember stuff better when I’ve had a toke, and I’ve read a lot of old scrolls about this place. Shit, I still can’t believe I’m actually in here!”
“Well, just watch your step,” I said. “Greenfoil also dulls your reflexes, and believe me, Cranton, a place like this is the last place you want slow reflexes.”
“Don’t worry, man. I’ll be all right.”
“If you want your limbs to stay attached to your bodies—and losing a limb is mild compared to what some of these traps will do to you—you need to do exactly what I say when I say it. I’ve dived a hundred crypts, so I’m the key to you surviving this place. Don’t go off on your own unless I order you to. Don’t touch anything, even if it looks harmless—especially if it looks harmless. And, most importantly—and I cannot stress just how important this is—do not, under any circumstances, pick up anything that looks even remotely valuable. That shit is guaranteed to have a very nasty trap attached to it. Do you all understand me?”
The women and Cranton nodded. Isu knew all of this well enough; there had been plenty of traps in her crypt. Rami probably had a little experience in places like this as well, and as an enjarta, would be on high alert on any mission anywhere. Elyse and Cranton, on the other hand, had me a little worried. Neither had much experience with ancient structures like this. The last thing I needed was for one of them to inadvertently set off a gigantic booby trap that could kill a bunch of my undead warriors. Or all of us, if it was bad enough. I’d have to keep the pair close to me.
“I’m going to send a few slavers’ skeletons across the
