such resistance.” The man was just a little too belligerent for Willard’s liking, but that would soon be remedied—or Willard would have a new commander of his small army. “My lord, we simply didn’t think—”
“Think?” Willard cut him off, tired of his bleating. “I’m not paying you to think, damn you! I’m paying you to apprehend the woman. No more, no less. So far, all you’ve given me is excuses.” Willard stared the man down. The soldier might be bigger and more physically fit than Willard, but he knew nothing of real power. Willard let the fire of his magic flare in his eyes and was gratified when the soldier involuntarily moved back a step. “You will get her next time or you will die trying. Understood?” The soldier gulped visibly and Willard finally had reason to smile. It wasn’t a pleasant smile for those viewing it, he realized, but it made him feel better to know his people grasped the lengths to which he would go to get his way. “You’re dismissed.”
Willard turned his back on the man, adding insult to the verbal injury he’d just inflicted. If the soldier was a little better at his job, Willard might’ve thought twice about showing his back to the man, but as it was, they both knew now who was the stronger one in this relationship.
Willard motioned for his aide to approach. The little toady annoyed the shit out of him mostly, but he was useful—even if he was a spy for the Council. Aaron came up alongside Willard and immediately began his usual, unctuous speech.
“What may I do to assist you, my lord?”
Aaron was a total suck up, but that’s what Willard wanted right now. Someone who wouldn’t argue with him and would do whatever he said—exactly what he said. Even if Aaron was filing regular reports with his detractors on the Council, Willard didn’t mind right now. Not when he was so close to achieving his goal.
“I want you to go back to the warehouse and trace the energy patterns. Find out where the Royal Guard slunk away to, and see if you can get a better bead on where the Nyx went, if you can. Then report back to me—and me alone. Understand?” Willard made eye contact, hoping to impress his will upon his aide though he knew Aaron had other, undisclosed masters.
“Yes, my lord. It will be done immediately.” Aaron actually bowed his way out of Willard’s presence. It was one of the quirky little things that made Willard smile and was probably the reason he continued to allow Aaron to live. He was amusing for a worm.
But Aaron, and everyone else in the organization, didn’t really understand why Willard was so obsessed with the pantera Nyx. He wasn’t about to explain it to them either. He knew a secret about the Nyx’s power. A secret he was not going to share with anyone until he was good and ready.
He’d be ready when he had the Nyx’s power for his own. Though…he might not tell anyone even then. After all, they laughed at him when he claimed to be a true necromancer. He had only communicated with the dead once—and that had been mostly by accident. A real necromancer—a mage who could raise the dead—hadn’t been seen in the mortal realm in centuries. Nowadays, the term was merely one of the many ceremonial titles applied to various positions on the Council of Elders.
Willard couldn’t raise the dead. He couldn’t even establish a reliable intuitive connection like a paltry psychic medium. He might have the ancient title of Necromancer of the Council of Elders, but it wasn’t a true designation of his magic. He was powerful, but his talents lay more in elemental matters, not necromancy.
But with the Nyx’s power—then he could very well become an actual necromancer. He could use her power for his own, and nobody would ever need to know. Killing her and taking her gift would improve his situation within Council by leaps and bounds. Which was why he continued to try to capture the woman—no matter how many times she slithered through
“Think?” Willard cut him off, tired of his bleating. “I’m not paying you to think, damn you! I’m paying you to apprehend the woman. No more, no less. So far, all you’ve given me is excuses.” Willard stared the man down. The soldier might be bigger and more physically fit than Willard, but he knew nothing of real power. Willard let the fire of his magic flare in his eyes and was gratified when the soldier involuntarily moved back a step. “You will get her next time or you will die trying. Understood?” The soldier gulped visibly and Willard finally had reason to smile. It wasn’t a pleasant smile for those viewing it, he realized, but it made him feel better to know his people grasped the lengths to which he would go to get his way. “You’re dismissed.”
Willard turned his back on the man, adding insult to the verbal injury he’d just inflicted. If the soldier was a little better at his job, Willard might’ve thought twice about showing his back to the man, but as it was, they both knew now who was the stronger one in this relationship.
Willard motioned for his aide to approach. The little toady annoyed the shit out of him mostly, but he was useful—even if he was a spy for the Council. Aaron came up alongside Willard and immediately began his usual, unctuous speech.
“What may I do to assist you, my lord?”
Aaron was a total suck up, but that’s what Willard wanted right now. Someone who wouldn’t argue with him and would do whatever he said—exactly what he said. Even if Aaron was filing regular reports with his detractors on the Council, Willard didn’t mind right now. Not when he was so close to achieving his goal.
“I want you to go back to the warehouse and trace the energy patterns. Find out where the Royal Guard slunk away to, and see if you can get a better bead on where the Nyx went, if you can. Then report back to me—and me alone. Understand?” Willard made eye contact, hoping to impress his will upon his aide though he knew Aaron had other, undisclosed masters.
“Yes, my lord. It will be done immediately.” Aaron actually bowed his way out of Willard’s presence. It was one of the quirky little things that made Willard smile and was probably the reason he continued to allow Aaron to live. He was amusing for a worm.
But Aaron, and everyone else in the organization, didn’t really understand why Willard was so obsessed with the pantera Nyx. He wasn’t about to explain it to them either. He knew a secret about the Nyx’s power. A secret he was not going to share with anyone until he was good and ready.
He’d be ready when he had the Nyx’s power for his own. Though…he might not tell anyone even then. After all, they laughed at him when he claimed to be a true necromancer. He had only communicated with the dead once—and that had been mostly by accident. A real necromancer—a mage who could raise the dead—hadn’t been seen in the mortal realm in centuries. Nowadays, the term was merely one of the many ceremonial titles applied to various positions on the Council of Elders.
Willard couldn’t raise the dead. He couldn’t even establish a reliable intuitive connection like a paltry psychic medium. He might have the ancient title of Necromancer of the Council of Elders, but it wasn’t a true designation of his magic. He was powerful, but his talents lay more in elemental matters, not necromancy.
But with the Nyx’s power—then he could very well become an actual necromancer. He could use her power for his own, and nobody would ever need to know. Killing her and taking her gift would improve his situation within Council by leaps and bounds. Which was why he continued to try to capture the woman—no matter how many times she slithered through
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