She shrugged. “I’m nothing but a necromancer now.”
“And the Blood God?”
“He’s an ancient entity, one my fellow deities—excuse me, former fellow deities—thought they had defeated. But now, it seems that he is rising from the ashes of the past and gathering more followers, growing in power. Perhaps you will grow strong enough to defeat him before he grows too powerful. Or perhaps he will crush you and the rest of the gods and hurl this world into an abyss of darkness. Who knows? Not me, not a mere necromancer.”
Drok watched her leave, scratching his chin and furrowing his brow. “That one, she crazy,” he said. “She talks in riddles, answers question with question. Crazy. And why she have horns on her head?”
“It’s a long story, Drok,” I said with a sigh. “Maybe I’ll tell you the whole thing some time.”
“On the journey to Wastes?”
“I can’t drop everything and travel there with you. Not just yet. Not until I’ve killed Rollar and got his map. Certainly not until I’ve taken the lordship of Brakith back from my cock-sucking uncle. I’ll have to kill him, too.”
“You say you must kill people?” Drok asked.
“Those two I mentioned, yes, and likely many more. I am the God of Death, after all.”
“I like to kill people! I help you kill people faster, help you finish your quests. Then, you go with Drok to Drok’s home and meet wise woman.”
I grinned. “I could use a hulking brute like yourself. No offense, of course.”
“Drok be Vance’s hulking brute!” He raised his hand, and I lifted my own. When he clapped my hand, I staggered back a few steps.
“Very good,” I said as I wiped yet more gore onto a dead soldier’s tabard.
Drok beamed another one of his crooked-toothed smiles, and a waft of his breath hit me almost as hard as his meaty fists could have. I wanted to double over and spew the contents of my stomach all over his bear fur boots, but I managed to overcome this urge.
“Think about washing yourself and brushing your teeth once in a while,” I said. “Don’t worry about losing your warrior powers. I’ll use my, uh, death magic so that you don’t lose your powers.”
Drok let out a booming laugh. “You try make Drok bath, eh? But Drok not stupid! Drok know you try to trick him, because you want Drok to lose his powers. Then, it be easier for you to make Drok go away. No, no, no. Drok no bath or brush teeth! Drok need be strong, very strong!” He lifted his arms and flexed, and I saw muscles appear on top of muscles.
For the moment, it seemed, we’d just have to put up with Drok’s stench. I’d conjure up some other means to wash the stink off him. Perhaps I’d change our route, do some river crossings. Yeah, lots of river crossings. A stink like Drok’s, though, might take something like an ocean crossing to dispel.
“You can keep your stench,” I said. “But you’ll make up for it with this.” I removed a golden coin from my pouch and infused it with my power before I handed it to him.
Drok placed it in his mouth and bit on it. “Gold real?”
I nodded. “Put it somewhere on your body, where you won’t lose it. Whenever you kill someone, their soul will be mine.”
He slipped it in the rear of his kilt and grinned. “Coin safe.”
Rami leaned over to me and whispered, “Where did he put it?”
“Probably between his clenched ass cheeks,” I whispered back before I turned to Drok again. “I know you barbarians eat like horses, so you’re responsible for finding your own food.”
“Drok good hunter. Drok find a lot of food. Drok go hunt right now!”
He ambled over to a dead soldier, picked up a battle-axe lying beside the corpse, and snatched a spear still in its grip. In his meaty paws, both weapons looked like mere toys. Grinning like a buffoon, he traipsed off into the woods. I had no idea how a loud, lumbering oaf like him would manage to catch anything except a cold, but if he was fine with feeding himself, then there was no harm in having him join us. I also needed him to show me the way to his wise woman eventually.
Now that the fight was over, Grave Oath was full to the brim with fresh souls. The tree on the black plane was calling out to me. I suspected that now, with this fresh cache of souls, I’d be able to give myself a new ability and take yet another step in the direction of becoming a full deity.
Chapter Twelve
Before I sent my spirit to the other world, I needed to consider what ability I now needed. It seemed that I did have some sort of conscious control over which ones I could gain. I’d seen as much when I gave Cranton the ability to produce enchanted coins. What power would help me overcome Rollar? What ability would allow me to fight against the hordes Uncle Rodrick commanded?
“I never imagined that I would fight in the style of a knight of Prand,” Rami interrupted my thoughts. “But I have to admit, it was enjoyable.”
“I’m glad you like it. I spent my entire childhood training for combat like that. I’m glad it didn’t all go to waste.”
“If only I had some gray powder,” Rami mused. “It could have been useful in a situation such as this.”
“Gray powder? Don’t tell me that that’s some sort of herb or potion you Yengish enjoy. I don’t want to deal with another Cranton.” I smiled at her.
She laughed. “Gray powder is a substance our Yengish alchemists developed for the art of war. It is a powder… and it is gray—”
“You don’t say.”
Rami paused at my interruption and pouted with mock anger for a second before laughing and continuing. “When flame or even a spark touches this gray powder, it explodes. And
