Tybalt nodded to himself and let out a long sigh.

  Things were not going as the necromancer had planned. Instead of gaining beastfolk allies and killing off the weakened squad, he had been forced into killing off three beastfolk. Now the squad was being reinforced. At this rate, they would receive some form of divine intervention on their side next.

  After he had finished speaking with Baldwin, Tybalt checked his status and confirmed that the system alert from earlier had been related to something the revenant had mentioned: how much the squad was suffering from the disease Tybalt had inflicted on them.

  It was really about time. He was still fixing the bones in his hand, but it took little mental effort to quickly take Minor Pestilence Resistance as his second pestilence mage class skill.

  There, that should keep me from getting any infections myself…

  He sent a quick message to Hieron. It was time for Tybalt to consolidate his forces. That was a basic rule of warfare. Divide your enemies to more easily destroy them. Unite your forces for a stronger attack.

  Bring your undead to the area of the mountain closest to my location. I assume you can sense my location through our bond, as I sense yours. Remain hidden from the woman with me until and unless instructed otherwise, but be prepared for a fight if anyone approaches. Most importantly, warn me if you see either humans or beastfolk. The people you and your parents used to know from the mining camp seem to have become our enemies. They’ll be with the squad in a matter of hours.

  Tybalt didn’t expect to hear much back from the fext, just a simple Yes. But he was mistaken.

  Understood, master, Hieron replied. But are you sure this is the best use of my talents? What exactly happened involving the miners?

  You’re picking now to question orders, huh? Tybalt thought. I guess I understand it. Hieron wants to spill some blood, and now I’m telling him to just follow me around and hide. And, although he doesn’t know this yet, his type of undead is particularly difficult to kill… So he, in particular, has less to lose by being spotted, attacked, torn limb from limb, whatever. No matter what happens to him, he’ll come back unless they kill him with weapons made of glass. Which wouldn’t occur to anyone naturally. The only cost of him getting into trouble would be revealing the presence of the undead. It’s a big cost… but maybe it’s time to make another bold move.

  I might be persuaded that your talents could best be used elsewhere, Tybalt sent. He quickly relayed what Baldwin had told him. Give me your ideas.

  Couldn’t we attack the Army before the miners return? Hieron sent. You haven’t inspected us, but when you sent us training on the mountainside, we collectively gained a number of levels. I think my buddies and I could do some damage. If we managed to kill off the squad, what would the miners even do with themselves afterward? They’d have to just go home… His tone was eerily playful, giving off that creepy mixture of child-like and monstrous that Tybalt still had yet to get used to.

  Does he have some ulterior motive? Tybalt wondered, always wary of this intelligent undead. There’s no way he wants to protect the miners. Maybe he just wants to prove himself stronger than I think he is. Or he wants to get as many levels as possible. Then again, maybe he’s just bloodthirsty and doesn’t want to wait for the next confrontation to be on their terms. He certainly likes killing. I’ve seen his enthusiasm for the idea enough already in the short time we’ve known each other.

  The soldiers are sick, so you might have a chance to kill a few of them, Tybalt sent. Are you even close enough to the camp to get down there in time?

  Master, I know the miners, Hieron replied. I have known them since… since I was born, out here, as a human. I don’t know how many of them will want to take the Commander up on his offer, but—his tone turned to one of mockery—trust me when I say, those fools can never make a decision in under an hour. If they decided something important in less than five hours, I would count it as impressive. Without my… without the mine foreman to lead them, they’re useless. Incredibly slow and inefficient. We could destroy the camp and be gone in an hour or less. They would never know we were there.

  Hieron seemed overconfident to Tybalt. He clearly hadn’t thought through how high level the soldiers would be. Killing some wild animals had convinced the fext that he and his little unit of monsters were tougher than they actually were. But that was all right. Even if his mission ended with only a few soldiers dying, it could still benefit the cause. The Army needed each man more than Tybalt needed his, since their dead could easily become his troops. A plan began to form in the necromancer’s mind.

  Tell me, what’s the average level for the zombies under your command? Tybalt asked. Assuming you can see it. If you can’t, I’ll have to focus on them myself.

  Just the zombies, master? Hieron asked. It would be higher if I included the skeletons.

  No, I’m thinking I’ll hold the skeletons back, Tybalt replied. Because—well, because I think it’s possible you’ll be defeated and caught, and let’s just say I know what seeing the zombies would mean to my squad versus seeing those skeletons.

  All right, master. The zombies average around three or four.

  That’s not terrible, since they’re just a couple of days old at most, Tybalt thought. But he had them training up on the mountain for a full day, and I was under the impression they had killed a lot of animals. Plus, that average is without the fresh beastfolk zombies having joined Hieron’s group. And they also killed at least a few soldiers today, right? What in Abadd has he been doing?

  Why are they so low level? Tybalt asked bluntly. You’re not counting the zombies that haven’t reached you yet, right?

  No, master.

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  So, these are just the zombies you had with you when you were training on the mountain?

  Don’t be mad at me, Hieron whined, though Tybalt didn’t think he’d shown any actual impatience yet. Two of the zombies got up to levels seven and eight, but the soldier zombies are new to my ranks, remember? They weren’t on the mountain with us yesterday.

  How high level are the skeletons? Tybalt asked.

  Average around ten, Hieron admitted.

  The fuck?! Tybalt thought furiously. The skeletons are getting the kind of experience I’d have expected. Doesn’t he know the zombies are more useful? Their bodies are naturally more robust. They should be the ones getting the lion’s share of experience!

  What about the other two zombies you had with you? Tybalt asked.

  Wait, Tybalt thought to himself. The other two are…

  I kept them closer to me, slightly back from the fighting, Hieron sent. To protect me.

  He’s lying, Tybalt knew instantly. And this explains the real reason why the average zombie level is so low.

  Don’t lie to me, Hieron, he sent. Tell me why you really kept those two back.

  I… don’t… know… Every word from Hieron seemed to come with effort.

  He’s really struggling, Tybalt thought. Either he’s struggling to hide the real answer from me, which should be impossible since he can’t disobey a direct order… or he’s trying to understand his own feelings. The notes in Unholy Forces about how difficult it is to control the fext could support either theory. He might be stronger willed than Baldwin, able to resist a direct command, or he might be struggling with still having a human side. Either one could make him an unpredictable asset, but if it’s the latter… I’m sure I could use this.

  He took a breath before he responded.

  It’s all right, Tybalt sent simply. I know they were your parents.

  But they’re not now! Hieron sent back, almost shouting, frustrated. I don’t understand why it matters to me. They’re just puppets. They’re less than I am. Inferior creations. Why do I still care…?

  Because there’s still a lot of human left in you, Hieron, Tybalt replied. Even if you look down on the whole human race, you’re still a lot like them under the surface.

  No… I killed two soldiers this morning, Hieron insisted. I dropped the rocks that ended them with my own hands. The humans were like bugs. So weak! I don’t want to have any of them in me.

  There was Hieron’s contempt for all things human coming out again, this time not even disguised.

  Never mind that I’m human, Tybalt thought, slightly amused. Don’t worry about offending me…

  Yes, I know, Hieron, he replied. But that feeling doesn’t break your connection to the human race. Neither does killing people. It doesn’t matter how many. Trust me. I would know. Even before I was a necromancer, I killed a lot of different people, in a lot of different ways. It was my job. I… became very good at it. And I never stopped being human.

  Even when I wanted to, he thought to himself.

  If you say so, master, Hieron sent reluctantly.

  Don’t worry, though, Tybalt sent. We’ll keep it between us.

  Yes, master. I guess I’ll forget about attacking the Army, then. I apologize for troubling you with my idea.

  Wait, forget about it? Tybalt asked. What are you talking about?

  You were trying to say the zombies were too weak to pull it off, weren’t you? Hieron answered. Because I failed to level them properly…

  It’s not just about the zombies, Hieron, Tybalt replied. It’s about you, too.

  Me?

  The zombies are there to support their leader. What you’ve told me suggests that you should still attack the squad. Just bring the other mining camp zombies and the two soldiers, but not your parents. The skeletons and the mother and father zombies will come and stay near me, to protect me and watch for threats.

  The fact that those undead—Hieron’s parents in particular—would be safer near Tybalt rather than joining in the attack was obvious but went unspoken.

  Thank you, master, Hieron replied eagerly. I look forward to the attack. The tone of the fext’s response seemed to confirm Tybalt’s suspicions. He was pleased, excited—and definitely relieved to have the mother and father zombies removed from the equation. Hieron probably wasn’t going to ask for them to be kept out of the line of battle, but if Tybalt hadn’t excused them, the fext would probably have arranged things so that they were in less danger than the other undead, as he apparently had during the mountain training before.

  The parents are a weak spot I can use to control him, the necromancer thought. I’ll have to make sure I take very good care of them until and unless I need to use that. The fext was valuable, as any intelligent undead would be. Unlike his parents, Hieron was bloodthirsty, headstrong, and potentially difficult to control—but not expendable. Having a good method of motivating him could prove important. But I need to level the parents, too. Keeping them from fighting is a very shortsighted way of protecting them. It guarantees they stay weak and vulnerable. It’s the kind of thing you’d do if you were… failing to admit to yourself that what you really wanted was to protect them. Yeah, that checks out.

  Go and attack just after sunset, Tybalt sent. Be silent and stealthy. Do as much of the bloody work yourself as you can this time. You’re a lot more subtle than the zombies are. Try to kill those who are sleeping first. Use the zombies as backup, in case you get caught in the act and wind up in a fight, rather than as the first line of attack. Ideally, you’ll kill everyone while they’re resting. Failing that, maybe you’ll kill a few, escape, and we’ll lose just one or two zombies. If you’re caught, however…

  Tybalt gave clear and unambiguous orders about what should happen in that case. He also told Hieron as much as he could of the camp’s security and its weaknesses, as well as Army procedures.

  Then he opened up another telepathic channel and gave strict instructions to the zombies, to make them more helpful and less likely to ruin Hieron’s stealth mission. He ordered the mother and father zombies and the skeletons to move toward Tybalt’s location.

  Finally, Tybalt concluded his instructions to Hieron’s group and reopened his conversation with Baldwin.

  There’s been a change of plans, Tybalt began.

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