"While their legal authority is not the equal of the Inquisition's, Her Eternal Majesty's Watches speak with her voice on matters of crime and investigation. Wherever their leaders suspect that a crime has been committed, they send their men without fear or hesitation, safe in the knowledge that the full might of the Throne is behind them."

Two Thousand Years of Empire by Jahangir Amini

=====

Lord Rasce stopped himself from pacing back and forth for what must have been the fifth time. It would not do for him to look nervous in front of the men. He could hardly help it though. Other than his younger brother sending a message to hold fast and that he was taking charge of things above ground there had been nothing. The Duke was still absent.

He knew the messengers had had more than enough time to reach the Watch and Mages and return with help. Where were they? Had the Empire abandoned House Marcni in its hour of need? Would he be forced to abandon Lady Ester down there?

He gave the entrance to the Vaults another worried glance. Were they all going to be overrun by a horde of slathering undead coming out from the depths? Where was the Duke anyway? Surely someone must have found him by now!

=====

Teitu Marcni cursed the day his brothers had been born as he listened to the guardsman on the gate shouting down to Commander Fucking Savate. What had Rasce been thinking? The misbegotten imbecile. As for Sethre, of course he had chosen this time to disappear, right when he was most needed. And so, once again, it fell on him to clean up his siblings' mess and protect the House. If only he had been firstborn.

"My lord, I'm deeply sorry, but I can't allow you through the gates." Captain Starlan shouted down to the men outside. Now there was a good, loyal man who knew which side his bread was buttered on. "I don't know what you've heard, but I can assure you I don't know anything about any necromancers here."

Teitu could not quite hear the shouted response from the other side of the walls.

"Of course you can speak to one of my lords, I've sent servants to find them as a matter of urgency. As soon as one of them can be here I'm sure they'll order the gates opened for you, but in the meantime I have to obey my orders."

Teitu nodded to himself. The Captain would hold anything short of an Inquisitor at the gates. At least that would give him the time to sort things out before they had outsiders poking their noses in everywhere.

Now he just needed to find out what the fuck was going on. The messenger's raving about a necromancer in the Vaults had been both ridiculous and terrifying. If it was true, and he could hardly believe it was, the consequences for House Marcni did not bear considering. Even if they killed the necromancer themselves, the stain of his crime would still tarnish their reputation. At best!

If Sethre was not going to show up he would need to take over from Rasce and deal with whatever it was in the Vaults himself. If all went well, he could ensure that the problem disappeared before anyone else knew enough to question it. A few over excited servants could be punished for spreading rumours, any witnesses would have to disappear and there would be some embarrassment, but no one would be able to prove anything more had happened. He could only hope Rasce and Sethre hadn't fucked things up to the point where that would not be possible.

=====

"I am the Commander of the Vass Karan Watch, responding to a report of an active necromancer. Refusing me entry is treason against the Throne." Velthur Savate resisted the urge to groan. He'd said as much in various different ways to absolutely no effect.

"My sincerest apologies my lord, but without orders I cannot open the gates. I can assure you I know nothing of any necromancy here."

What under the Throne was wrong with House Marcni? They called for help and then barred their doors. It must be an attempt at a cover up, he couldn't think of any other explanation for their behaviour. It stank, but there wasn't much he could do about it. Not immediately anyway. The Watch wasn't an army, he couldn't just storm the gates. Even if he did, unless he could find definitive proof of House Marcni hiding something, that would be his career over. If he was lucky.

He growled to himself. The bastards would probably get away with it too, whatever it was. Some favours burnt, a few retainers sacrificed and that would be that.

Appealing to the guards' loyalty to the Throne hadn't worked. Neither had threats against them. Perhaps he should be trying to enlist some of the other Great Houses? They'd certainly be happy to see House Marcni weakened. Unless they got it into their heads that helping him into the Marcni palace would weaken their own privileges in the finely balanced web of interactions between Throne institutions and local nobility.

"Are you well Commander?" Velthur nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Master Tabasi!" He quickly composed himself. "It's good to see you here, so you've heard the reports of a necromancer in the Marcni palace too?" He didn't wait for the man's nod. "The Marcni guards are insisting all is well, but they won't let anyone in or out until one of the Marcni brothers can be found to change their orders."

"And you do not believe them?" The southern Mage sounded about as bothered by it all as if Velthur had told him lunch would be delayed by half an hour.

"No I bloody well don't, they're trying to hide whatever it is that's going on in there until they can make it disappear."

"Mmm. Well the law is clear, you have demanded entry on behalf of the Throne?"

"Repeatedly."

"And you would like my assistance?"

"Yes!" Great Spirits, the man was far too smug for his own good!

"Very well, as a loyal subject of Her Eternal Majesty I could hardly deny such a request from the Commander of the Watch." Master Tabasi smiled faintly and took a step forward. Velthur only had a second before his brain caught up with what he was seeing.

"Wait!" Master Tabasi turned and raised an eyebrow at him. "You can't just blow a hole in their walls. Think of the consequences!" A Master Mage might be able to escape most of them, but Velthur certainly wouldn't.

"Ha! I am not young Ester, do not worry."

With those words Master Tabasi started walking towards the gatehouse in front of them, his pace smooth and unhurried. Velthur heard him mutter some words quietly and then he simply vanished.

There was a brief, barely audible commotion on the other side of the walls and then silence. A minute later the gates creaked open.

Velthur didn't hesitate. With a shout he gestured his men forward.

=====

How much control did the Duke have over the undead? More than Ester had hoped. That much was clear. She glanced behind her, back the way she'd come. He'd be there, following in her footsteps. She needed to keep moving forward.

Her moment's hesitation was enough for two more undead to spill into the chamber. How many were there down here? Too many!

Ester took a deep breath, pushing down rising panic. She needed to be calm, focused. She had to think. There couldn't be infinite numbers of undead. Who knew how necromancy worked, but there weren't that many bodies. Surely.

The undead weren't advancing on her, just lining up at the end of the Chamber. Why? She glanced behind her again. Was it a trap? Was she about to condemn herself? She took another calming breath. She was a Chartered Mage. Not some half-trained witch. Reality bent to her will and she had no intention of dying today.

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"Saig." The closest of the undead exploded into flames. That seemed to be a trigger for them. As one they started to shamble towards her. "Saig." Another ignited with a roar.

It wasn't going to be fast enough. More were still coming in. Ester hissed out another spell from between gritted teeth.

"Gan dojeen'fa." With a jolt her magic took the strain and hauled the stone block back into the air. She did her best to pretend she didn't hear the wet squelch as it left the Mehrzad's remains. With iron will she bent reality, flinging it straight at the tunnel full of undead.

It slammed straight through what had been a tall, skinny man. Powered by her magic it smeared the corpse's upper half across the gravel floor and tumbled out of sight down the tunnel. Its rumbling impacts briefly drowning out every other sound.

It wasn't big enough to actually block the tunnel, if it had even stayed in one piece, but hopefully it would slow the undead down and keep their numbers more manageable. Ester wasn't sure if they could actually climb over it, but she had to assume they could.

The remaining undead in the chamber hadn't reacted in the slightest. They just kept on shuffling towards her. Thank the Spirits that they were so slow and unwieldy. If they could run she'd likely already be dead.

"Saig." Ester immolated another as she carefully walked backwards, trying to keep her distance from the shambling monstrosities. She could feel the strain on her magic now. She'd been fighting, running and casting too much. She needed to keep things simple if she could.

"Saig." Another corpse, this one in rags that might once have been a guardsman's uniform, collapsed as magically-fuelled fire burnt through its flesh.

With a deafening crash something exploded behind her. Ester stumbled away, back towards the oncoming corpses, almost falling over. What was that?!

It took her a moment to force her thoughts back into some semblance of functionality. The Duke! Her Schema! She glanced away from the relentless advancing undead and back towards where she'd come from. It was shrouded in smoke and dust from the explosion.

Ester looked back at the oncoming undead. "Saig."

Had she managed to kill him, was it over? Hope flashed to life inside her.

A moment later it was dashed by the the sound of coughing, interspersed with curses. He'd survived!

Ester didn't allow herself any time to think about it.

"Gagnka saig'fa cuvlug." A few words sent a stream of fire blasting back into the tunnel.

She struggled to see its passage, but she felt the magic be torn apart, saw fire come blasting back out at her.

"Dachaid." Ester ripped through the spell with disjunction. She'd missed him, she was probably going to die.

As she tried to blink her way past the bar of light the fire had torn across her vision she saw that it had blasted away some of the smoke and dust. Someone's remains lay in the entrance to the chamber, right where her Schema had been. She'd hit someone, but clearly not the Duke.

Rising panic froze Ester for a moment before she wrestled it back down. She couldn't fight the Duke and the undead at the same time. She needed to focus on one or the other. If she could kill him then the undead might be manageable on their own. Or she could run again. That might be better. She was already tired and she wouldn't want to face him at her best, let alone now. She might be able to punch her way through the undead at the other end of the Chamber. Run or fight? She needed to decide.

=====

"Fuck!" Sethre Marcni cursed again as his spell unraveled. He was going to make that girl suffer before he killed her. His anger howled away in his head, driving him forward through his pain. Who did she think she was?! Fucking peasant girl coming to his palace and doing this to him!

He only had a few walkers with him. Most of them were circling round to block off her escape and harry her. But a thought was all it took to direct those few past him and into the Mehrzad's chamber. No doubt she had killed that too. Disgusting creature, he had no idea why the Throne tolerated them, but the sheer potential of his experiments had more than made up for the exorbitant cost of discreetly acquiring it.

"Sir ai'blyndin xëy blyndin'fa." He cast one of the most complex spells he knew, sending black ropes of nothingness snaking past the undead and into the chamber. A moment later they were violently torn apart.

Sethre resisted the urge to curse again. He already knew that the girl was a surprisingly talented Mage, but she could not handle him and the undead at the same time. Soon enough he would have won and then he could at least enjoy her suffering.

He took a tentative step forward, forcing himself not to cry out at the pain. Whatever it was she had done had sent shards of rock slicing across him in several places. One day an attack like that would mean nothing to him, but that day was not today. He could only be thankful that he had been paranoid enough to send one of his walkers in front of him and it had taken the brunt of her trap. Otherwise this might already be over.

As Sethre emerged into the chamber he felt magic flare. He barely had time to react as the girl's spell came together.

"Archairt." He snapped the word as his mind did the true work of shaping the magic. The small bits of stone angled past him and slammed into the walls of the chamber hard enough to shower dust from the ceiling.

On one level Sethre was aware of the walkers closing in on the girl. On the other he fought her directly with his magic.

"Saig." One of the walkers exploded into flame. Before he could react she looked back at him. "Fliakon ai'dojeen."

Great Spirits she was fast! "Doa'elt." Even as he shredded the spell he took a step back towards the tunnel he had come through, out of the softening ground under his feet. "Xànjar ai'diwaien."

"Dachaid." He saw her wince at his strength, but she still stopped his spell well before it could reach her. The walkers were getting closer though. He knew she could not keep this up much longer. He could see it in the way she stood. "Njadh ai'saigok."

She might look like she was faltering, but her spell was still perfectly put together. "Dachaid." There were no easy weaknesses to it, he had to simply overwhelm it with strength. Strength was key. He had more of it. So he kept his retaliation simple and strong. "Saig." Let her try her fancy tricks, he would simply overwhelm her.

"Dachaid." Of course she dispelled it, but she was getting hemmed in. The walkers were nearly upon her and she could not fight him and them at the same time.

The girl realised the danger she was in and spun, throwing fire into the closest walker. Another clamped its hand on her arm.

"Gan." She turned her shriek into a spell and the walker was blasted off her so hard it knocked a couple of its compatriots over, but it was too late. Now she was his.

"Basch ai'di…"

"Try to finish that spell and we'll find out whether necromancy is enough to save you from a knife through your brain." Sethre froze at the sharp prick of cold metal under his chin, his spell fading from his lips. What the fuck was going on? He started to turn his head and stopped at the flare of pain as metal pierced the skin of his neck.

=====

As the undead creature tumbled away from her, Ester ignored both the pain and the disgusting, clammy sensation from where it had gripped her arm. She spun, ready to unravel whatever spell the Duke had thrown at her in her moment of distraction.

Only there was nothing. Just a silence so sudden she nearly stumbled in surprise. A glance back behind her told her the undead had stopped their relentless advance too. What was going on?!

She looked back to the Duke. Really looked. There were people behind him and he was stretched out, standing right on the the tips of his toes and paying no attention at all to her. Were they holding something to his neck? A knife?

She hesitated, just for a moment as her eyes adjusted to the darker room without the fire of burning undead to add to the witchlights. There were three figures behind the Duke. It was hard to see clearly, but three people… One of them could be a big muscular man and another a woman. So the sacrificial victim and the witch. The one with a knife to the Duke's neck must be the annoying, good-looking one.

The Golden Shadows. Again. Couldn't they just leave her alone?!

For a brief moment she considered trying to kill them all while the Duke was distracted, but if he blocked her spell she might have to fight all of them at once. Maybe they'd help her? They were criminals, but they weren't necromancers. She didn't think so anyway. In this dark, depressing place that seemed like little more than a forlorn hope, but it was all she had.

"If you kill me, the undead will go on a mad rampage. There are hundreds down here. You will not get out alive and they will spread across the city, killing everyone they encounter." The Duke didn't sound overly worried despite having a knife at his neck. Was that even true? Not for the first time Ester wished she knew more about necromancy's limits.

"Shut up, I'm thinking." The thief on the other hand sounded like he was on the edge of panic.

"Yes, you should think very carefully about your next move my boy." Despite his apparent confidence, there was a very slight quiver to the Duke's voice. Almost inaudible. "If you kill me, you will die at the hands, or more likely under the teeth of the undead. I will not be able to hold them back."

"While if we help you, you'll give us a pat on the back and let us go? We're not fucking idiots." Despite his words, the thief sounded much less than sure of himself. Ester started to edge away from the undead. She didn't dare attack them, not when it might set things off again, but she could make more distance from them.

"Clearly not, you have me at your mercy, but consider. You have me as a hostage. I cannot act fast enough to prevent you from killing me, but I can defeat the girl. I also know a way out of here. One that will not require you to pass the guards at the Vaults."

"Shut up! Don't listen to him! He's a necromancer!" Ester almost surprised herself with her shout. She couldn't just let him talk the thieves into helping him though.

The Duke chuckled, apparently amused by her intervention. "Or you could rely on her. A priggish girl who'd rather die than break the law. Do you want to trust your lives to a true-believer? She will thank you for your help and then deliver you straight to the hangman because it is the right thing to do. Would you rather not be owed a favour by the most powerful man in Vass Karan?"

That wasn't… It wasn't fair! the thief seemed to be chewing over the Duke's words. Ester's stomach felt like it was trying to escape through her throat, but she didn't say anything. She needed to be ready for if they turned on her. It was hard to think, but she needed something clever. A spell the Duke couldn't just tear apart.

The thief started to move, turning his body slightly as the Duke settled down onto his heels once more.

Ester tensed, ready to leap aside, her mind focused and a spell on the tip of her tongue. The very moment the thief's dagger left the Duke's neck she'd strike with everything she had.

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