The Homunculus Knight

Chapter 19: New Friends

“Death is messier than we assumed. When brain function completely stops, a large quantity of Soul-stuff is discharged into the surrounding Aether. I speculate this phenomenon is related to Souls not leaving dead flesh without magical assistance. Perhaps the discharge is an abortive attempt by the Soul to leave the Mundane? If so, what stops it and why?- “ Isabelle Gens Silva’s notes of Soul Hollows.

Natalie stared at the fiddler with undisguised caution. Morri mentioned something about the Tower sending someone, but when they’d not appeared at the sky garden meeting, Natalie discounted the notion. So now for this near-stranger to arrive under such odd circumstances… Well, it got her hackles raised, especially since this wasn’t the first time she and Cole encountered this odd musician.

Cole was clearly thinking similar thoughts, judging by the heavy frown he wore. “Do you have any proof the Lych sent you?”

Kitthar nodded vigorously, reached into his coat, and groped at the inner pockets. After a few seconds of fruitless searching, he set down his fiddles and started checking other pockets. Once a minute of frantic rooting through his clothes and backpack was finished, the fiddler looked to the group and muttered. “...must have dropped it.”

With a thought, Natalie ordered the surviving wolf to pad towards Kitthar, a low growl bubbling in its throat. Staring at the hungry lupine, Kitthar swallowed nervously. “Look, I’ve had an eventful day; catching up with you wasn’t easy, and I must have lost the letter the First Preceptor wrote.”

Holding her elbow in one hand so her clawed fingers rested on her lips, Natalie said. “I’ve seen you three times, when I first came to Vindabon, next at the Solstice Ball, and now here. To quote a Hierophant of Uncle Trickster, ‘Once is an occurrence, twice is an accident, and thrice is enemy action.”

Eyes never leaving the wolf, Kitthar corrected her. “Actually, it’s ‘'Once is happenstance, twice is a coincidence, three times is enemy action.”

Mina let out an amused breath. “Well, he’s certainly arrogant enough to be a Magi from the Tower.”

Nodding at that, Natalie replied. “That’s a point in his favor, but I’m unconvinced. Argentari was worried about spies and enemy interception; ‘Kitthar’ here could be an examp-.”

“Kit, call me Kit; it’s easier than my full name,” the prisoner interrupted, earning a glare from Natalie. Smiling unabashedly, Kit continued, “I don’t have the letter, but I might have another way to prove who I am. Take me to the Sage stone, and I can prove my identity.”

Cole’s frown deepened to chthonic levels. “If he is a spy or thief, he’s a spectacularly incompetent one, so perhaps he is telling the truth. But considering he couldn’t fend off a pair of wolves, I doubt he’s that magically potent.”

Kit managed to look indignant even with a growling wolf a handspan from his nethers. “Finding you took a lot of time and energy! Also, there was an entire pack of wolves! The two you helped with were just the most dogged ones.”

While she was no expert on forest beasts, Natalie knew enough to know wolves were pack hunters who didn’t separate easily. So unless the rest of the pack was lying in ambush, something was wrong with the wolf. Natalie looked at her subjugated lupine; it was scrawny to the point of starvation, and one of its back legs kept twitching erratically. Earlier, Natalie crushed its mind beneath her will and made it her creature out of pure instinct; now, with more time to assess things, she realized the wolf’s mind folded like wet paper. Carefully kneeling down, Natalie reached towards the wolf and examined its emaciated body; it didn’t take her long to find the first swollen lymph node.

“Jag… the wolf is infected.” hissed Natalie as she ordered her servitor to step away from Kit.

Cole’s eyes glowed silver as he looked at the Fiddler. “I don’t think he’s sick, but I’m also not seeing much in the way of magical power around him.”

Mina stepped forward and confirmed Cole’s assessment. “He could be lucky, or he could be immune thanks to the Sting. We know the Leachs have spies in the city, and a spy would most definitely be sniffing after you, Natalie.”

Not liking where this conversation was going, Kit piped up. “Seriously, just take me to the Sage stone, and I can prove who I am. It’s not like I could steal it from you or at least get very far if I did.”

Natalie thought on that. “He has a point; I’ve got his scent now, and with the enchantments on the box, he couldn’t use the stone against us. What’s the harm in letting him see it? If the Lych really sent us help, it would be useful.”

Instead of answering, Cole gripped Kit by the collar and dragged him close, staring into the Fiddler’s eyes as streams of silver fire dripped from Cole’s own. Ignoring his prisoner’s struggles, Cole said. “Some powerful Moroi can look through their thrall’s eyes; it's a rare talent but not unheard of. Kitthar could be a disposable asset, sent to identify the box and its location for a more skilled thief. I can’t detect any sign of a second presence, but that’s no guarantee.”

Trying unsuccessfully to free himself from Cole’s iron grip, Kit squawked. “Okay, okay! If you don’t want to do that option, how about you help me go back to where I landed and help me find the letter!”

Frowning, Natalie asked. “Landed?”

Bobbing his head vigorously, Kit elaborated. “You don’t think I walked all this way, did you? I flew from Vindabon and landed in a clearing not far from here; it’s where the wolves found me, actually. My… arrival was a bit messy, and I dropped some things; the letter of introduction must have been one of them.”

Mina looked at the wolf and winced. “So the wolves got your Hippogryph, and that’s how you escaped? Not pretty, but it would make sense; the pack settled for the bigger meal.”

Kit looked momentarily confused, and Natalie swore she could see his mental clockwork ticking to a conclusion. “Oh! No, Hippogryph, I flew here by magic; it's why I was so tired. Even with the First Preceptor’s aid, flying for that long is extremely difficult.”

Still holding onto Kit, Cole dryly remarked. “So, instead of us showing you the Stone, you want to take us to a secondary location? That is… violently suspicious.”

Shrugging, a difficult gesture considering Cole was practically lifting him off the ground, Kit said. “I didn’t exactly plan things to turn out this way. Look, I get you are all jumpy, expecting spies and saboteurs, but that's not me! I’m one of the First Preceptor’s students, and he sent me to help you.”

Cole’s eyes glowed with power as he examined Kit in the Aether. “He’s not lying, or at least he doesn’t think he is, or perhaps his emotional control is simply phenomenal.”

Moving over to Kit’s dropped backpack, Mina started to open it up and let out a surprised yelp. The edge of Cole’s halberd, now shrunken to an axe, was instantly at Kit’s neck. Shaking her head and waiving off her companion’s concerns, Mina said. “I’m alright; this just surprised me.”

Looping a single finger around one of the backpack’s straps, Mina pulled lightly, and the pack floated into the air, hovering for a second before slowly drifting down like a dandelion seed. Relaxing slightly and removing the axe from Kit’s neck, Cole remarked. “Clever enchantment, not the type of thing a vampire thrall would have.”

Smiling, despite his precarious position, Kit replied. “Thank you! It reduces the pack’s weight to a tenth of what it should be! It's partly why I was late; getting the spell to stick to the leather wasn’t easy.”

With this in mind, Mina carefully opened the pack and checked its contents. “Let's see here… clothes, books, tools, books, papers, books, shaving kit, books, athame, books, mess kit, books, and… more books.”

Examining one of the texts, Mina read its title. “The Annotated Tyar Chronicle. Isn’t that a history of the Blood Duchies conquest of Roloyo?”

Kit’s smile broadened. “Yes! I wanted to make sure I wasn’t flying into this mess blind. Now, can we talk about all this like adults, without any of the threats or paranoia!”

Frowning, Cole slowly let go of Kit but kept his axe in hand. “I want to recover this letter from the Lych just to be certain. But for now, I’m willing to entertain the idea he’s telling the truth.”

Natalie stared at the sick wolf standing a few meters away, its eyes glassy and unfocused. “We should deal with the infected wolfpack as well; leaving a threat like that loose doesn’t feel right.”

The sound of hoofbeats and creaking wood pulled the groups, attention to the arriving wagon. An annoyed-looking Alia jumped off the driver’s bench and strode towards them. “I got tired of waiting; what's going on?”

After a brief explanation, a decision was reached; they’d find this clearing Kit mentioned, retrieve his lost belongings, deal with the wolves, and possibly Kit (depending on how things turned out). The Fiddler took this news well, probably viewing it as an indefinite stay of execution; he even let Alia bind his hands without a fuss, seemingly content to be a captive for the time being. With Kit dealt with, Natalie was stuck making arrangements for the other prisoner.

The wolf was broken. Its body and mind were well past snapped and moving towards inevitable death. Staring down at the sickly animal, Natalie debated her options and realized only one made sense. Even if the cure worked on a non-humanoid, there wasn’t any way to care for the wolf or its fellows. Ending the wolf's suffering was the only logical option, but also presented other challenges. Things would only become more difficult going forward, and Natalie would need every tool available, including undead minions.

It had been months since Natalie used the strange form of necromancy Isabelle taught her on the road to Vindabon, but she was reasonably certain she could still do the ritual. Glancing at her companions, Natalie knew the only real problem was her friend's objections. Just euthanizing the wolves would make the most sense, but… it felt wasteful. At the same time, Natalie could understand the taboos around Undeath; even if she wasn’t truly enslaving animal souls, she was still devouring part of them and using it as a weapon.

Sitting at the back of the wagon, staring at the road behind them and the wolf padding along after the cart, Natalie reached out to the mind-shackled creature. The Gallarwyll parasite wasn’t as effective on animals as people; they just didn’t have the same capacity for hate. The wolf wasn’t a suicidal berserker like a humanoid Screamer but rather extremely hungry and aggressive. So, with a little effort, Natalie pushed past the out-of-control instincts dominating the wolf and peaked into the remnant of its mind.

She found a morass of confusion, fear, pain, and loss at the animal’s core. Reaching out with a tendril of thought, Natalie asked the damaged mind. + What do you want? +

+ No more pain + It answered, not with words but ideas.

Natalie carefully sculpted the wolf's mind, soothing its suffering as gently as possible; this was more difficult than what she did with the horses, requiring more extensive modification without accidentally crippling the wolf's mind. Many flies and mice paid for this knowledge with their lives, but to Natalie, it seemed a fair trade.

Now, with the wolf calmed by her intent, Natalie’s asked. + What do you want? +

Images and concepts danced through Natalie’s mind, forming a message she could understand. + To run through the woods with my pack, to hunt and eat alongside my kind, to sing to the moon and stars, to play with pups and sleep within a warm den, to be a wolf once again. +

Reaching back to her memories of Grist, the dog familiar who slept within his skull, Natalie offered them to the wolf. + I cannot save you, but I can offer you the chance to hunt once again.+

The wolf pondered this for a moment, its mind deciphering the meaning of the words before answering. + My pack, let me hunt and sing alongside my pack. +

The wagon started to slow and turn slightly as they left the road, following Kit’s directions. + I think that would be possible +

The horses pulled the wagon off the road and into the large forest meadow that bordered the old imperial way. Cole glanced around the clearing and saw no obvious sign of danger. A stream cut through the meadow, fed by melting snow and so swollen its banks licked the budding grasses on either side. The first wave of spring wildflowers weren’t yet in bloom, but give it a week, the meadow would be an idyllic oasis among the thick woods. Well, except for the heavy stink of decay and sickness that permeated the clearing.

Crossbow at the ready, Alia looked to Cole and asked. “You smell that?”

Cole nodded and turned Requiem into a poleaxe. Glancing back towards the wagon, he said. “Mina, Yara, stay with Kit and the cart. Natalie, can you come help?”

Natalie appeared from behind the wagon, her enslaved wolf following close behind. Cole suppressed a grimace on seeing the wolf, jagging psychic magic, nasty stuff. Getting into formation, with Natalie to his left and Alia to his right, Cole moved deeper into the meadow, following the smell of death. The wolf bounded ahead then, moving towards a patch of disturbed grasses. Nose sniffing at the grass, the wolf let out a low keening noise, which Natalie translated.

“It's a dead wolf, one of his pack. I don’t think it's a Ghoul.”

Moving quicker, Cole reached the whining wolf and confirmed its discovery. Lying in the grass was a lupine carcass. Flies and other more disgusting scavengers swarmed around its bloated form, feeding on the feast of death. Reaching out with Requiem’s tip, Cole prodded the wolf; its spine wasn’t right, snapped by something powerful. Reaching into his bandolier, Cole poured a drop of pyre wine onto the carcass and then used his spark-stone to ignite the body. The living wolf watched this, its eyes barely focusing on the dancing flames.

Natalie also observed the cremation, saying. “The dead wolf was the oldest female of the pack; she probably didn’t have many hunts left in her.”

Alia made an interested noise. “The wolf told you that? He mention how the pack got sick?”

Shutting her eyes for a moment, Natalie said. “It's a little hard to tell; I think they ate something… or someone infected. The wolf just has memories of an easy hunt and then things going bad shortly after.”

A rumbling sigh escaped Cole, and he turned away from the burning body. “Where did Kit say he landed?”

Slowly walking to the right, Alia looked at some of the grass and mud around them. “He didn't, but unless I’m completely out of practice, something person-sized and clumsy was here recently. Let me follow the trail; it shouldn’t be hard.”

It wasn’t; Alia took them a few meters closer to the right side of the clearing and revealed a rather curious sign of aerial arrival. A large furrow was cut into the ground as if something heavy and fast was dragged through the soil. At the end of the furrow was a mess of debris, clumped-up sod, and shredded grass surrounding a… damaged skiff. The small boat was cracked open, and the remains of a traveler's trunk covered its fractured form.

Staring at the incongruous sight, Alia voiced what they were all thinking. “What the fuck?”

Moving closer, Cole examined the skiff, noting the intricate patterns carved along its hull, now warped and split by an ugly landing. “I’ve heard of these…” he muttered. “But never seen one. It’s a sky-boat; the Imperials used to use them as transportation. I thought they were lost magic, one of the things the Day of the Black Sun ruined.”

Walking carefully around the no-longer-flying boat, Alia whistled, “Well, if anyone would have one tucked away, it would be the Lych.”

Leaping into the splintered boat and poking at the split open trunk, she added. “You think he’ll eat Kit’s soul when he finds out he broke this antique?”

Cole knew the rumors of what happened to Magi, who ‘disappointed’ the Lych, and he also knew the slightly less disturbing truth. “I don’t think this is an antique.”

Pointing at the skiff’s stern, Cole pulled his companion's attention to the large maker’s mark etched into the hull. “Unless the Flam Family boat-builders have been in business for much longer than I thought.”

Alia squinted at the mark and whistled. “Yeah, the Flam’s have been in the business forever, but not an imperial kind of forever.”

Carefully stepping into the skiff, Natalie checked the contents of the trunk. “More books, most of them wet, and some travel supplies, also wet. Oh? What’s this?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Cole watched Natalie reach down and pick something up from the pile; as she did, his ears violently popped. Momentarily disoriented, Cole moved toward Natalie and found her holding an envelope. Natalie’s thumb rested on the wax seal she’d just broken, and she looked like a cat with its tail caught in a door. Blinking away her discomfort, Natalie said. “That… that felt odd.”

Looking at the envelope in her hand, Cole noted it was perfectly dry, unlike the rest of the wrecked luggage, and the now broken wax seal was pure white and depicted a lesser-known occult sigil. Putting a firm hand on Natalie’s shoulder, he looked her in the eyes with as much intense focus as he could muster. “Don’t touch unknown magics; things are getting more dangerous, and I can’t lose you to a stupid mistake.”

Nodding and looking abashed, Natalie flipped the letter over and winced. Cole looked at the other side of the envelope and found a few words written in an elegant hand. ‘For Natalie Striga or Mina Vrock’s eyes only, upon penalty of extreme metabolic dysfunction.’

Lips pursed in undisguised worry, Natalie gingerly slipped the letter from the envelope. “Yeah, that wasn’t smart of me.”

Flicking open the folded paper, Natalie started to read. “Natalie and/or Mina, if you are reading this letter, then my apprentice Kitthar Marono must have reached you safely. He is one of my younger students but shows great promise in certain fields; I’ve commanded him to aid you to the best of his abilities and gifted him an experimental artifact to help your mission. The sky-boat requires atypical credentials to pilot, and Kitthar has them. Use his skills and knowledge the best you can, but please try and return him alive if possible.”

Reaching the end of the letter, Natalie swallowed hard. “P.S. Take care with any message from me. The popping you felt in your ears was the defense measures woven into the paper fading. If anyone other than Natalie or Mina opened this letter, they’d have suffered a severe stroke followed near-instantly by this paper detonating into a reasonably-sized fireball.”

Cole could see Natalie processing how close she’d come to death. The stroke and fireball combination was an ugly attack and would prove effective even against the Alukah. Folding up the paper, Natalie said, “Well, lesson learned, and now we know Kit is who he says he is.”

Turning back to the sky-boat, Cole mused on their ‘gift.’ Reaching the vessel’s prow, Cole found an odd figurehead shaped like a goose, a glowing lantern clutched in its beak. Something about the lantern and its odd light itched at the back of Cole’s skull; he wasn’t going to mess with it, especially after the letter. Stepping back from the lantern, Cole said. “One problem solved; now, what do we do about the wolves?”

Natalie’s expression turned worried. “I have an idea, but I’m not so certain anymore.”

Looking at the half-dead wolf, now sitting next to her, Natalie said. “I can probably dominate them all, but I don’t think they can be cured. They need to die before they hurt anyone else, but… well, I want to try and make them my familiars… once they are dead.”

Cole thought to the undead farm dog bound to its skull and the ill-fated squirrel lost fighting the Shohgards. His gut reaction was disgust and distaste, Bone-bound-familiars were practically ethical by Necromancy standards, but they were still Necromantic constructs. Looking down at his hand, Cole bitterly noted that he might also fall under that category, and he doubted his creation was anything close to ‘ethical.’

Clenching his fist, Cole asked. “You can speak with the wolf; could they consent to something like that?”

Natalie nodded and gestured at her lupine thrall. “He already has; I think the rest won’t be hard to convince.”

Muttering to himself, Cole said. “Dark power put to a good purpose… It’s dangerous to do, but possible.” With a jerky nod, Cole added. “Fine, just be careful and get their consent.”

Alia watched this exchange and remarked. “Well, before you start any fell rituals, I think we need to find the wolf pack first.”

Natalie smiled morosely. “That won’t be hard.”

Her wolf leaned back and howled, a loud warbling note that echoed through the meadow. As the last bits of the howl faded, Natalie gestured back at the wagon. “Let's go get ready.”

Natalie set her woodcarving tools down next to Isabelle’s skull and reached out to the Soul, slumbering within the alabaster shell. Gently but firmly, Natalie nudged the sleeping consciousness attached to the skull. Slowly, like some great serpent roused from its hibernation, Isabelle’s mind uncoiled and responded to Natalie’s summons.

+ …what is it? +

+ Sorry to wake you up, but I needed some advice about Necromancy. +

That managed to get Isabelle’s attention, and Natalie felt her mentor’s presence grow with awareness. + I’m surprised, but intrigued; what are you doing? +

Natalie sent Isabelle a small stream of memories and accompanied them with words. + I have the opportunity to turn an entire wolfpack into familiars, and wanted to know if there was a less cumbersome way to bind them. Carrying around fifteen wolf skulls doesn’t seem particularly efficient. +

Isabelle mulled over this for a few seconds. + Interesting… Yes, there is a way to consolidate your minions into a single bone totem, creating a simple reliquary, a centralized leash for large numbers of undead, if you will. Normally, I wouldn’t suggest combining that magic with Soul Hollows, but with pack hunters, the side effects could prove useful. +

A deluge of information flowed into Natalie, and she understood the modifications to the ritual Isabelle was suggesting. It wasn’t that complicated compared to the original Necromancy, requiring steady hands and unwavering focus more than anything else. Looking at her woodcarving tools, Natalie knew she had both of those in heaps. Turning her focus back to the skull, Natalie said. + Thank you. +

The psychic equivalent of an unconcerned shrug was Isabelle’s response. + Inform me of the results… after I have a few more nights of rest. +

Placing the skull back in its box and locking it shut, Natalie picked up her tools and jumped out of the wagon. Gently patting Cuff as she passed the bored horse, Natalie found her friends examining the crashed sky-boat. Kit, with Yara’s help, was trying to fit everything back into the splintered traveling trunk while Cole and Alia watched the clearing edge for the wolfpack. Mina was rereading the Lych’s letter for maybe the fifth time and asking Kit a barrage of questions.

“So let me make sure I’m understanding all this? The sky-boat is an experiment you, the Lych, and his other apprentices have been working on. It was powered by an enchanted crystal whose origin you can’t share and can only be ‘piloted’ by you. This was the first attempt at long-distance flight and ended when you crashed the boat into this meadow, where you stumbled across a hungry wolf pack infected with the plague who chased you towards us, which happened to be your destination.”

Kit nodded and thanked Yara for finding some rope to bind the broken trunk shut. “That about sums it up. Honestly, I was lucky to get this far; the enchantment weaved into the boat started to crack kilometers ago. Thankfully, I held it together long enough to keep my landing from being fatal. But, I don’t think the sky-boat is going anywhere. Still, we can salvage the crystal lantern. I’m sure I can find something useful to do with it eventually.”

From nearby, Alia let out a low whistle. “I don’t know if you are the most or least fortunate person I’ve ever met.”

A crooked grin split Kit’s face. “Not luck, skill! I have an incredible ability to get into horrible situations and then survive them!”

Alia cackled at that and said. “Any idea how much longer we have to wait for the wolves to show?”

Mina shrugged. “It’s been, what, twenty minutes? As long as Natalie’s pet keeps howling, they should show up soon enough.”

Conversationally, Cole added. “I think they are here.”

Heads spun in the direction he was staring, but there was no sign or smell of wolf. Glancing at his friends, Cole revealed his eyes were burning silver. “A mass of pain and hunger is moving towards us fast.”

No sooner had the words escaped Cole’s mouth than a lupine choir split the afternoon, answering their lost kin’s call. All eyes fell on Natalie, and Cole asked. “Can you subdue all of them?”

Fang pricking her lip, Natalie looked at her first wolf and then the wood-carving tools. “I’ve never tried to affect so many creatures at once. But I should be able to do it.”

Cole adjusted his grip on Requiem. “Just neutralize as many as you can; the rest can be dealt with.”

The horses were skittish, stamping at the ground and pulling at their reigns, Yara’s careful touch barely keeping them from running. Mina, Cole, and Alia were ready with weapons, while Kit sat next to Yara, idly playing with his violin cases. The howls were growing louder, and Natalie knew it was time to perform. Stepping forward, facing the clearing’s edge, she prepared to follow her instincts, instincts she usually did her best to ignore.

Fifteen wolves exploded out of the underbrush, a pack of starving animals, their former family bonds replaced by uniting hunger. Eyes blazing with focus, Natalie swept her gaze across the wolves, meeting their frenzied stares with her own intense glare. Her mind was like a reaping scythe as she swept through the wolves, smashing their fragile egos into unconsciousness. There was no resistance, no struggle, just complete psychic defeat as Natalie’s mind crushed them. All fifteen wolves flopped forward, carried by their momentum and tumbling over each other before comically landing in a pile of unconscious fur not three meters from the forest’s edge.

A thrill of triumph coursed through Natalie but quickly melted into deep uneasiness. She’d underestimated how much the plague weakened the minds of the infected. Screamers, no matter the species, submitted to Vampires instantly. If she could subjugate a pack of wolves this easily, Natalie feared what a powerful Moroi or Wyrmoi might do with an infected city.

Letting out a pointless breath, Natalie glanced behind her and winced at the expressions greeting her. Cole’s face was etched in a deep frown, and Mina looked a little sick. Alia was trying to look unaffected but wasn’t convincing; Kit seemed mildly interested, but worst of all, Yara stared at Natalie with undisguised adoration.

Flinching away from the sight, Natalie said, “I’m going to check their minds and start working on things… So, uh, if we want to set up camp early or..”

All but Cole took the words as a dismissal or request for privacy. Still frowning, the Paladin came up to Natalie and, to her surprise, offered a hand. Gently taking it, Natalie felt comforted by his warmth. Slowly, uncertainly, Cole asked. “Do you mind if I accompany you?”

Genuinely surprised, Natalie’s lips flapped like a dry-drowning fish. “Why? You hate this kind of stuff?”

Looking past her to the unconscious wolves, Cole said. “I do. But I hate the idea of you being alone during all this even more. So, I ask again, do you mind?”

Leaning against Cole, Natalie half-whispered. “Thank you.”

Wrapping his arm around her, Cole shrugged. “Speaking as both Paladin and your partner, it's my duty and honor to help you any way I can.”

Sighing, Natalie spoke with bleak humor. “Well, I best get started; lots of wolves to devour.”

The pack agreed to Natalie’s offer. To be free from the pain and hunger but able to hunt together again was something out of a dream for the sixteen wolves. She’d been unable to fully communicate what was involved in the ritual, but the idea of part of them living on to hunt beside a queen of the night appealed to the pack. Bleakly, Natalie wondered if existing as her familiars was something like a warrior-heaven for the wolves.

Now, after an uncomfortably large effort, all sixteen wolves were dead, their severed heads arrayed before Natalie, scraps of their soul inside her. Carefully, she etched the binding mark into each of the heads, cutting into cooling flesh with an artist’s deft hands. Cole stood nearby, a grim psychopomp offering the thinnest air of legitimacy to the fell ritual Natalie prepared.

Once all sixteen heads were marked, Natalie started the next part of the ritual, the modifications Isabelle shared with her. Taking the head of the first wolf, Natalie got to work pulling fifteen of its teeth, a gods-awful experience that made Natalie glad she couldn’t gag anymore. Once this was done, she went to the other heads and removed a single tooth from each. Carefully, Natalie poked herself with each fang, letting a tiny drop of her blood touch each one, creating a link she intended to exploit. With the newly blooded teeth in hand, Natalie got to work putting them into the empty sockets of the original wolf head. Once it was done, Natalie held a single severed wolf head with a chimeric set of teeth.

Raising the severed head up, Natalie focused her mind on the sigil she carved into its forehead and prepared the final step of the ritual. “By plague, you came into my power; by plague, you shall be called. Nameless wolf pack you are no longer; now you are Lupus!”

Blood-red flames erupted from the carved sigils, spreading out across the severed heads, consuming flesh in an occult fire. Where the flames licked at Natalie’s skin, they felt warm and sticky, like fresh ichor, but didn’t burn. As the fire faded, Natalie was left holding the prime head, now polished alabaster bone. Before her, the other fifteen skulls still burned, bone crumbling into ash as the fell magic consumed everything. When the last spark of crimson fire faded, Natalie set the skull down.

Calling upon her new familiars, Natalie spoke. “Lupus! Lupus! Lupus! Answer my call!”

Bolts of red light erupted out of the skull, and gray smoke boiled up around it. Crimson light congealed into ethereal bones, and the unclean ectoplasm wrapped them in spectral flesh. Standing up on phantom limbs, the original wolf now unlived as a Bone-bound-familiar.

Nodding to herself, Natalie said. “Lupus, sixteen.”

The wolf familiar started to walk right, its body trailing phantasmagorical afterimages. Afterimages, which quickly solidified into separate wolves, until fifteen spectral lupines followed after the first. Natalie could feel them at the back of her mind, a crackling web of interlinked Soul Hollows bound to her will. Experimentally, Natalie ordered the wolves to run across the meadow. They obliged, loping along as a pack, following the different directions psychically given to them. As the distance between Natalie and the pack grew, she felt the tiny drain on her blood supply increase. Quickly bringing them closer, Natalie commanded the wolves to become ten, which they did. Six of the familiars lept into their kin, fusing with them, until ten remained. After a few more basic tests, Natalie brought the pack close and let the magic fade, leaving a single wolf skull at her feet.

Picking up the skull and gently stroking the sigil carved into its forehead, Natalie looked to Cole and said. “I think they will be useful.”

Looking at the skull, Cole nodded and slowly said. “Lupus…?”

Shrugging, now a little abashed, Natalie defended herself. “Isabelle said to give familiars simple but poignant names. Besides, it works, doesn’t it? A pack of wolves dying from disease?”

Cole opened his mouth but shut it again after a few seconds, unable to think of a proper response. Instead, he changed the subject and asked. “Is it difficult controlling that many minions at once?”

Cocking her head to the side, Natalie shook her head. “Not really; the ritual closely links the pack’s minds. The Hollows do most of the work anyway. I just give the pack a command, and their minds follow them.”

A slow, tired breath escaped Cole. “That's… worrying.”

Natalie frowned and started to ask for clarification when Cole provided it. “Producing intelligent, loyal Undead shouldn’t be this easy. Your familiars are a strange mix of Wraith and Wight, created through a simple ritual. This is powerful Necromancy, another product of Isabelle’s genius, and a particularly devastating one if it ever got into the wrong hands.”

Clutching the skull and looking down at its polished surface, Natalie muttered. “Of course it is…”