“So, why didn’t you bring me Sergeant Remus first?” Tybalt asked Baldwin as the freshly risen zombie blinked awake.

  “Because look at that, master,” Baldwin replied. “Look at that waste of a dead soldier.”

  The zombie lurched up toward Tybalt until the necromancer sent a silent command ordering it to stay down.

  “I feel the same way,” Tybalt said. “I would love it if I could guarantee a better result.”

  “Maybe if you’re a higher level in your necromancer class, you’ll have better odds,” the revenant suggested. “I don’t know if that’s how this works.”

  Tybalt frowned. “I need to understand it better myself.”

  I’ll spend some time later studying the text I was given alongside my class, he thought. I already know it has mystical runes, spellcasting advice, necromantic rituals, proposed experiments, completed experimental results from other necromancers… I just haven’t had the time to explore it enough. Sergeant Remus’s corpse can wait until I’m pretty sure I know how to preserve his knowledge and experience as a fighter.

  He bent down to turn the last specimen the two undead had brought him—the boar that had gored Baldwin—to an undead. The zombie macaques were already sitting silently, paws clasped as if in prayer, waiting for further instructions.

  As Tybalt felt the zombie boar stir with its simulation of life, he finally got an alert.

  Tybalt felt a pleasurable surge of power, and he knew his last little lingering bit of damage, that dull pain from where he’d been stabbed, was healed. He could sense nothing from that area anymore. The mild but throbbing pain was gone.

  “I feel great,” he said aloud.

  “Uh, glad to hear it?” said Baldwin.

  “Orders, master?” asked Hieron.

  “I want the two of you and our new creatures to head toward the mining outpost,” the necromancer said. He sent a telepathic heading for the monsters to follow, along with instructing them to avoid obvious dangers like flinging themselves off of the mountain. He didn’t yet know how stupid the zombie boar and zombie macaques would be. Zombie humans were already brainless enough. “Keep your distance until I get there. I’ve had them suffering under a plague I created for the last week. Tonight, as soon as sunset comes, we’ll go in and exterminate the survivors.”

  The revenant looked impressed. “You’ve been busy in your sleep, master.” He snorted at his own remark.

  Tybalt replied with a completely straight face, “Yep. We’re going to keep our previous level of seriousness even though the squad has been dealt with. I have a feeling the powers that be in the temple system and the Divine Trust are already aware of something amiss, considering that Volusia and the others had a blessing from the God of War when I killed them. The Kingdom will know that the squad went missing soon, too, if the religious authorities alone weren't enough of a problem.”

  Baldwin nodded.

  “Wait, did you already know that would happen?” Hieron asked, looking back and forth between necromancer and revenant nervously.

  Is he actually scared? the necromancer wondered. This undead child who laughed off Commander Volusia’s torture… What is he scared of? I guess being destroyed. Same as anyone.

  “Yeah,” Tybalt said. “It was unavoidable. If the squad escaped the desert alive, it would have been even more of a problem, because a larger force would have come out immediately to exterminate the beastfolk. I need a peaceful base of operations for as long as possible. The additional few weeks that killing the squad bought me will make a significant difference.” He spoke the words with more hope than certainty.

  “Wasn’t it possible to just slip away and not get the whole world after us?” the fext asked.

  “Not when you have the gods after you, kid,” Baldwin said in a firm but gentle voice.

  The two undead were acting oddly like family again.

  How strange. Maybe I should be glad about it. The undead have far more feelings, and more positive feelings in particular, than I could have guessed. Just like how Hieron still cared about what happened to the mother and father zombies…

  “We’ll head off, then, master,” Baldwin continued. “Unless you have work for us here?”

  “No, go on,” Tybalt said, still mulling the relationship forming between his creations.

  As the undead sauntered off, quietly chattering to themselves about the situation, the necromancer turned and went back into the hut.

  Entering, he saw Mariella and Vidalia seated on the floor. Vidalia had put on proper clothes, which was unfortunate but probably necessary since she was no longer in her sleeping area. They were both eating the same pork soup that Mariella had prepared for Tybalt.

  Did she cook that soup or reheat it? he wondered for the first time. It was hard for him to guess whether someone who’d had access to servants her whole life—to the point that when it was cold, they started her fires for her instead of her using her fire magic—would have learned any domestic skills. Tybalt knew how to cook for himself, because at times, he’d had no choice in the matter. But the soup seemed to have been made by someone who was above his abilities.

  The two women turned to face him, and Tybalt felt a little shoot of joy at the way their eyes lit up.

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  He approached, bent down, and gave each of them a gentle kiss on the lips, first Mariella, who was closer to the door, and then Vidalia. The foxgirl’s tail wagged excitedly as he stepped away and sat down between them.

  He couldn’t help but smile.

  The two resumed the conversation they’d been having before this, about the feast that would be held in Tybalt and Mariella’s honor once they announced that the necromancer had awakened. It sounded like Mariella had met multiple people in the village from the way she responded to Vidalia’s comments about different people by name.

  The necromancer was a bit lost, having been asleep while Mariella was apparently getting to know the beastfolk, but he paid enough attention to nod and make little remarks where it seemed appropriate. Mostly, he just enjoyed the mood in the air.

  The situation felt cozy.

  Every day could be like this, he thought. It’s enough to make a man want to abandon thoughts of revenge or toppling governments. I can’t do that, obviously. I was entrusted by a god with a task, and it would be incredibly stupid to abandon that and just expect him not to respond. Plus, the world wouldn’t stop waging war on me even if I tried to live at peace with it. But it would be nice if I could keep this little slice of happiness safe from that fight.

  How would he get Mariella to stay? That was the question he needed to answer.

  As they sat in place, Tybalt tried to find little moments to show his fondness for both women. Since he was barely participating in the conversation, he went in for intimate gestures rather than honeyed words: holding their hands, squeezing their knees, or stroking their hair. The atmosphere in the room gradually warmed more and more with the little gestures, and the conversation seemed to slow as both women paid more attention to their potential future husband and his physical displays of affection.

  Vidalia was the first one to address it.

  “How are you feeling, my future king?” she asked with a slight mischievous air. “Your physical condition, I mean?”

  “It’s much better,” he replied. “I leveled up one more time from healing Baldwin and making a few new undead. My injuries seem to be completely restored to normal now.”

  “Interesting,” Mariella said.

  “Yeah,” Tybalt said, turning to look at her. “I’m fit as can be.” He looked deep into her eyes.

  So, what are you going to do about it? he tried to say without speaking.

  After a moment, she reddened slightly and then shifted from where she sat, at a right angle to Tybalt, to right beside the necromancer, their bodies touching. She let her head fall onto his shoulder and closed her eyes with a contented look.

  He smiled and then looked at Vidalia expectantly, waiting for her to make the next move.

  The foxgirl looked like she was wrestling with something for a few seconds. Finally, she made what appeared to be a difficult decision.

  “Um, I just remembered, I have to go and do my usual chores,” Vidalia said. “It’s no holiday for me, even if I’ve been acting like it since Tybalt woke up. I’ll take Vicky and our uncle their lunch. Then maybe I’ll go help in the recovery. There’s always more to do. Seems like our hut will be empty while I’m gone, besides the two of you. I’ll probably be several hours.”

  Mariella rose. “I should join—”

  “No, no, no,” Vidalia said, waving her off. “You two are the man and woman everyone’s praising. We would all feel bad about accepting your help. The elders have strictly forbidden either of you from joining in any village reconstruction stuff. We owe you too much already.” Then she winked. “I guess you’ll just have to sit around here or maybe lie in bed… bored. Together. Just the two of you. No one else to talk to. No one else… within hearing range. Nothing to do. Nothing whatsoever” She turned and walked toward the entrance with her tail wagging. Tybalt found his eyes very drawn for a few seconds to the womanly movement of her hips.

  “Wait just a minute,” the necromancer said. He turned to Mariella. “I want to ask her a question or two. Then you and I can spend some quality time together.” He smiled wolfishly, and she lowered her gaze in response, her cheeks going pink again.

  “Whatever you say,” she replied, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

  Tybalt rose and followed Vidalia out.

  Once they were outside, he asked his questions in a low voice.

  “Before you go, any tips for how I persuade her not to go home? Besides mentioning that you think she’ll die.”

  “Well, you were already going to give her at least one really good reason to stay,” the foxgirl said, giving Tybalt a look that could melt ice. “I think I’m being really helpful by leaving, so you can just focus on her. Be sure to reward me properly later!”

  Tybalt chuckled and shook his head. “So, nothing you can tell me, then. Got it. And yes, I’ll give you your just desserts later.”

  “There is one thing that might help you…” She lowered her voice and detailed a couple of dreams Mariella had experienced while she and Tybalt were sleeping under the Twinleaf family’s roof.

  “You could see her dreams while you were also paying all that attention to mine?” the necromancer asked after she was done.

  “It’s a little like being in a crowd, learning to ignore the ambient murmuring, and someone walks up and loudly adds their voice,” she replied. “It’s really harder to ignore than it is to miss.”

  “Thank you for your help,” he said. “So you know, I think the two of us will probably go out. You can come back to the hut in an hour instead of trying to kill time elsewhere. We probably won’t be here. We’ll be back at some point, but maybe not until late at night.”

  “I appreciate you letting me know,” Vidalia said. “I try to start on dinner early. I’ll make sure to save you something. And I’ll wait up. If I try to go to bed not knowing you’re safe, I might have a hard time falling asleep.”

  The two of them kissed goodbye, a longer and more passionate elven-style kiss than Tybalt expected.

  “Give her extra love for me,” the foxgirl whispered as they parted, one of her hands running down his chest as she spoke. There was no pain whatsoever as she pressed over where he’d been stabbed, confirming that he was healed.

  “I will.”

  “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Vidalia added.

  “You’re a pretty wild one, though,” Tybalt replied, grinning.

  “Yeah. I am. Remember that.” She wiggled her eyebrows playfully until he chuckled again.

  Finally, Vidalia left, swaying her hips like she wanted him to watch her walk away. He did.

  Once she was out of sight, Tybalt re-entered the hut. He and Mariella were alone.

  The fire mage started playing with her hair as soon as she saw him.

  “Hey, so what do you think she was trying to say before?” Mariella asked. “About how no one will be here… for hours?”

  “Yeah, she’s obvious,” Tybalt said after a moment. He sat down beside Mariella and placed his hand on her thigh.

  “She isn’t subtle,” Mariella said, smiling. “But, you know, she’s pretty in love with you. And with the idea of the four of us all together. I was talking to her and her sister these last days—” She swallowed and turned a darker pink, almost red—“about Vidalia’s, um, plans for the future. The truth is, I could see all of us… getting along really well.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Tybalt spoke with a suggestive tone, but Mariella simply nodded in response, averting her eyes from his.

  The necromancer could feel the weight of the silence in the air. She was waiting for him to decide the afternoon’s direction.