Page 22 of Courting the Dragon King

“What are you doing?” Konrad bellowed from the doorway.

Wraith startled and spun on the spot.

Konrad stalked forward. He glanced at the corpse and then back at Wraith. “What are you doing?” he repeated through gritted teeth.

Wraith glanced at the thin, motionless form, struggling to form a sentence in the face of Konrad’s rage. “She was dead. I felt it. So I entered.”

“Why?” Konrad took a step forward.

Wraith stepped back.

“What were you going to do? Raise this poor old woman from the dead? Have her scare and attack these villagers, her friends?” He spat the words.

Wraith reeled. “No. Of course not!” Why would Konrad think such a thing? Why would Wraith, or anyone, do something like that?

Konrad glared at him. Clearly, he didn’t believe Wraith. Wraith clasped his hands together, uncertain what to say to make this right. But he did not know what he had done wrong.

Then he remembered. “Susan told me the festivities take place at the east harbour. We just have to walk down that lane and turn left and keep going.” Maybe now Konrad would see that Wraith could contribute and help in this quest in some way.

Konrad’s eyes narrowed. “So what, you hassled the dead to tell us which way to go? We could have just asked a living person on the street!”

“But it was easy to ask Susan,” Wraith said.

Konrad’s nostrils flared. “You should leave the dead to rest in peace!” he shouted. He breathed heavily. “Why can’t you necromancers just leave the dead be?” His hands had balled into fists.

For a second, Wraith thought Konrad might strike him, but then he turned and stalked from the room.

Wraith stood alone by Susan’s bed. He wrapped his arms around his waist, holding himself as tight as he could.

Chapter

Twelve

Konrad paced in the small room just off the ceremony chamber.

“You should have seen him yesterday. Just standing over the corpse of that poor dead lady. I don’t believe for a second he was just asking her directions.” Konrad scowled. “Who knows what would have happened if I had not turned up when I did?”

Gerard leaned against the wall, watching his older brother pace. A normal monk, four warrior monks, and six guards from Draconia also crowded into the small room.

Gerard scratched at his chin. “What do you think he would have done?”

“Raised her from the dead, of course!” Then Konrad would have witnessed that poor old woman, just like Anton, alive when she should have been at rest. His blood boiled.

At Gerard’s dubious look, Konrad snapped, “It’s what necromancers do!”

“I mean, yeah. But normally they have a reason. Like using the undead in battle against their enemies. Why would Wraith try and raise an old woman in some fishing village? What purpose would that serve?”

“Why else would he go in there if not for some despicable plan?” Konrad paced, which was difficult considering the room held far too many people. “Maybe he was going to suck her energy or something. Necromancers don’t exactly advertise how their powers work.”

Konrad stopped pacing. “But like all necromancers, Wraith is vile and disgusting and repugnant. The things necromancers do—” He cut himself off. He took a breath. “They have no morals. Their very souls are corrupted.”

Konrad rubbed a hand over his face. He closed his eyes, and a vision of Anton pulling the sword from his own chest flashed into his mind. Konrad could smell the metallic scent of blood. He could see his friend’s familiar pale-blue eyes looking straight at him, no sign of recognition.

Konrad’s throat tightened. Then Anton had attacked, swinging at him. Konrad could still feel his sword handle in his hand, slippery with Anton’s blood as he brought the blade down over and over, separating Anton limb from limb, destroying him completely.

Konrad opened his eyes. “They are evil,” he said, voice tight. “They are evil.”

Gerard said nothing. There was something like worry in his eye.