Chương 12: The Riverman

I leaned against the cold stone wall of the vestibule and took a deep breath. It wasn't much but the more that Strong and Explosion moved around, the more pressure there that wrapped around my core. It wasn't exactly painful, as much as it was uncomfortable. As if a fist had grabbed hold of it, and was waiting for the proper moment to squeeze. If this was how I felt with three undead connected to me, how would I handle more?

"Does this get easier?" [Yes. With time. Your magical core is a muscle like any other. You need only work it out. As you gather more souls, you'll feel similar.]"Any idea how I could get more without constantly killing things?" [Ha ha,] she said instead of actually laughing. [Not everything on these lower floors are entirely essence constructs. I'm sure more than just rats have snuck in as well. Larger critters will also hold Common Souls.] I noted, not for the first time, how much more solid Karen's voice had become.

"Are you feeling better?" I asked. [What do you mean?]"You sound human again. Like a person, not just a presence." [Ah.] A pause. [Having all these goblins gathered here on the first floor has been slowly regenerating my essence. A trickle of living spirit from anyone inside the dungeon's domain will feed into me.] I frowned.

"Does that mean you're killing them?" She scoffed. [Living beings generate far more essence just by breathing than I could ever passively draw from them. They hardly notice a thing.]"Even the sick and dying?" [Yes. Even the sick and dying.] The skeletons brought the last of the remaining bones from this floor and set them on the ever-expanding pile. As the mound grew, a slight problem arose. No matter how many ribcages, hip bones, and toes we found, we were limited by the number of skulls available.

Explosion brought one last coccyx, setting it atop the pile before bursting into a hundred pieces. All of that—but only four skulls. The last missing piece of the macabre puzzle.

"Where the hell did all the skulls go?" [These first floors of the catacombs have been picked through by various critters for hundreds of years. That, and with the residual necrotic essence resonating through these halls, a lot of them probably stood up and walked off. Give it some time. The catacombs will slowly seep bones out from the earth below. Sometimes you'll get mostly skulls. Sometimes, like right now, you'll get mostly knees.]"Well, how do I get more?" [The catacombs span ten floors. Keep climbing.] I frowned.

"There will be time for that later." I waved at the four skeletons I had.

"Alright everyone, let's head downstairs and see how we can help out." The skeletons marched down the stairs one at a time, Strong at the end. I picked up Skully from his grip and smiled at my first undead.

"You know, I've gotten better at this," I said.

"Since you're a Common Soul, I could put you into a real body now. You don't have to stay a skull like this," Skully's flame-eyes flickered a resounding no.

"If you ever change your mind, just let me know." I hadn't thought I'd been on the second floor for that long, but the sun faded over the horizon as we arrived in the throne room. Twilight flooded through the open doors. Crickets chirped, a fire crackled, and goblins snored. Goblins slept on almost every inch of the first floor. Some slept on top of each other. Others slept curled into balls, or had their heads propped up against walls. None of it looked comfortable, but not a single one stirred.

At the entrance, three goblins stood as guards, spears in hand. I wasn't the least bit surprised to find Hollow waiting at the entrance. My cadre of skeletons trailed behind me as I approached.

"The rubble still burns?"

"They'll burn out by morning," Hollow said. She shook her head.

"We've given up on trying to put it out. The well was one of the first things that collapsed."

"What about the river?" I asked.

"The earthquake toppled trees into the flow. Did you think we didn't consider that? None of us want to watch everything burn away." I exhaled slowly, and gestured to my skeletons.

"I brought help." Hollow's eyes widened.

"These are so much better built than the other one." Something skittered behind me, and I winced as Karen's rats joined us. Hollow took a step back.

"Those are horrifying."

"They weren't my idea," I said.

"The rats will help keep guard, at least. Bring me to the well. Let's see what we can do." She gave a curt nod, and turned to the other guards.

"Raise the alarm if you see anyone. I'm still not convinced Grelgo won't be back soon." They cocked their heads at me, distrustful, but gave a thumbs up. We headed out. The well sat in one corner of the destroyed village, near where the chapel had stood so proudly. The brickwork had collapsed, and the wooden posts were now split and splintered on either side. On the ground next to the collapsed well, the old wooden bucket and rope had been gathered.

"Thank you, Hollow. I'll see what we can do by morning." If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. She nodded, then paused.

"You're trying to put back to the way it was?"

"Not the way it was," I said.

"Better." My core burned with the effort of controlling the skeletons. It was one thing to have them follow me around or gather bones, but making them perform hard menial labor worked my core like a hard day at the gym. Explosion was the biggest drain. Each time the skeleton scattered, their connection to my core squeezed a little tighter. The only saving grace was that, the longer those two souls coexisted, the more sturdy they became. I still kept them doing most of the gathering.

It would be far too risky for them to explode while wielding a hammer or saw. I sat atop the rubble of the chapel with Skully in my lap and breathed. Slow inhales, long exhales. If my core was a muscle, I supposed it would be best to treat it like one. The one semester of Yoga I took in college had always helped me recover after a long day of work, and I saw no reason why this would be any different. [You look miserable. If you're tired or feeling worn out, just consume that last soul. Even a minor soul will feel like you took a power nap.]"Not doing that." [How do you think Necromancers get so much done? There are only so many hours in a day. Why waste them?] I rolled my eyes. The three non-explosive skeletons crawled in and out of the well. Despite his size and odd stature, Strong had been more help than I could have imagined. With his size, the other skeletons were able to lower him down the well with ease to use as a claw grip.

Minute by minute they brought up more debris, and by the end of the hour, the well was ready to be rebuilt. We laid out the bricks back into a waist-high circle, and I set one of the skeletons to cut out new posts with a saw we had recovered. Once set, I helped rig the bucket and drawstring back into place. Once done, I sent the skeletons out to fill whatever containers they could find with water and start dousing the rest of the fires. The moon barely hung at its zenith by the time the fires were doused.

No matter how heavy my eyelids grew, I fought off the exhaustion. There was still work to be done. I turned the skeleton's attention to the fallen buildings. Reconstruction couldn't take place until cleanup had happened. So, I had them take everything apart—brick by brick by brick. I cleared out two areas beside the tower, drawing lines with my sword. All the still usable, undamaged material was gathered in one area, while any ruined stone and splintered wood was put in the other.

Who knows what use they might be in the future? The horizon lit up, sending bright rays of orange and yellow into the starry night, and exhaustion overtook me. My sleep went undisturbed, only waking when the sun toasted my skin. I'd never been someone who tanned, but since forming my connection with the dungeon, my skin had gone a pale white. The sun, while a comfort in small doses, was swiftly becoming an enemy. The sun hung just below its peak by the time I opened my eyes.

Goblins moved around me, working alongside my still-active skeletons. I don't know what was the bigger shock—that my skeletons continued obeying my commands even after I was no longer conscious, or that at least two homes had been rebuilt while I slept. The goblins almost seemed to work harder than the skeletons. Stick stood inches away from me, his staff planted in the ground as if he was standing guard.

"Stick?" I mumbled, wiping the exhaustion from my eyes. He jumped.

"Oh! You're awake! Some wanted to move you while you slept, but I made it very clear you were not to be touched!" He grinned.

"You really did it, my lord. There were doubts—about your benevolence, I mean—but waking up to see the village already coming back together..." He shook his head.

"You're a genius."

"I'm only rebuilding what I destroyed." He tapped his forehead.

"I see what you do. You saw they did not all implicitly trust you, and so you orchestrated a situation where you could regain their trust. Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me. Once we've rebuilt the village—your reign of terror and evil over the world can continue."

"About that," I said, moving to a sitting position. My core had recovered, but still ached. Prodding at it, I could already feel a new ounce of strength inside of me. Evidence that I would come out the other side of this stronger.

"The evil stuff. We're not doing that."

"No evil?"

"No evil," I repeated.

"We're doing things differently this time. It'll be good, I promise." He held my gaze for a long moment, then nodded.

"If my lord insists."

"I do." I stuck my hand out.

"Help me up. Let's see what else we can get done today." Turns out, having a three-foot-tall goblin help you up isn't much easier than standing up by yourself. I nearly pulled him off his feet before giving up and hauling myself upright. I called my skeletons over, and they set down whatever bricks and stones they'd been carrying to come find me.

"What's the food situation looking like?" I asked Stick.

"With the damage to the village, we have lost most of our stores. With the river currently blocked, we are unable to fish, but Hollow was to gather a hunting party earlier to get fresh meat. I only hope that the saber-toothed rabbits haven't all fled the area after the quakes." I remembered the goblins fishing when I first arrived here. Putting a few skeletons on fishing duty once the river was cleared could make quick work of feeding everyone.

"Take me to the river." Hollow had undersold it. The trees hadn't just blocked the river's flow—they'd formed an entire dam crossing the river. Even Stick gawked at the damage. A dozen trees had splintered and fallen, blocking off the river suspiciously well. Water backed up behind the trees, flooding the forest behind, and leaving the riverbed downstream bone dry.

"This is a disaster," Stick said.

"I had no idea it was this bad."

"We'll chop up the wood and clear it out. I don't think my skeletons can lift those trunks out on their own."

"I'll see what we can gather," Stick said, and made his way back to the village. I gripped my sword. It was no axe, but the blade was sharp—far sharper than it had any right to be. Each time I drove it into the ground, or cut against stone, it absolutely refused to chip or dull.

"Follow me," I said to my skeletons as I approached a fallen trunk. I raised the blade high, and brought it down with a grunt. The wood split as if it were flesh and bone.

"Can you lift it?" The skeletons rolled the log out of the way to get into a position where they could lift it. Their bones shook, and my core compressed with their effort. I waved my hand.

"Okay. Too big. Just roll it away for now. We can make them smaller once we have axes." Karen's skeletons gave me a nod, and Explosion exploded. Not as useful here, I let Strong and Skully stand atop the riverbank, and I continued my work. I focused on chopping through the bigger of the fallen trees for now, leaving the smaller ones for when the axes arrived. They didn't come quickly. Stick didn't return until I was soaked through with sweat, and my muscles screamed.

I had cleared almost half of the fallen lumber with nothing but my blade. The work was hard, but as my mother always said: the proof is in the pudding. The dry riverbed had become a small stream. And while my clothes stuck to me like glue, I doubted I had ever felt more accomplished about something until that moment.

"These axes are all that survived the collapse—oh my!" Stick shouted as he approached with two axes.

"You really did a number on those things." I ran my throbbing forearm across my brow, and nodded for Karen's skeletons to take the axes.

"Sorry Explosion, we can give you a weapon when you get better control of yourself." The skeleton deflated, but nodded, head falling off and sticking into the mud.

"You two, continue clearing the dam. I want to see fish in this river by nightfall." Stick blinked.

"I can gather some men and women to help move them as well. We can use much of this to help with repairs."

"See it done," I said, my voice a heavy sigh. Karen's voice resonated through our connection. [Perhaps you are better at this than I gave you credit for.] I found a spot on a nearby rock next to Skully and Strong, and collapsed.

"Stick, I'm starving. Do we have anything to eat yet?"

"Most of the remaining food has been given to the wounded, but I can snatch it from their greedy paws if—""No! It's fine. I'll wait until Hollow returns." Footsteps hammered through the woods, and Stick flared his nostrils.

"I think you may have your wish sooner rather than later." Hollow sprinted into view, eyes wide.

"My lord, we have spotted a scout. They appear to be from Grelgo's clan."

"Oh," I said, blinking.

"Well, let's greet them. No rest for the weary."