Heather the Necromancer
Book 3: Chapter 17: Odd friends

Heather stepped through the portal like she was stepping through a door. She was expecting to feel some great sensation like she did when Breanne took her through a wall, yet she felt nothing at all. She simply stepped through the opening and was there. The air was a little warmer and carried new scents, but otherwise, nothing at all felt different.

She arrived in a large plaza flanked by white marble pillars that had basins on top alive with flowers and vines. They hung down like curtains giving the area a sense of a garden. It opened on one side to a cobbled street lined with buildings. This was what could be seen from the graveyard, but now that she was across, there was so much more.

The roofs of buildings went on forever, and some towered up, rising well above the others in high spires. They were made from a dozen different materials and came in even more colors. A dazzling variety of people walked the streets, many resembling humans, but some resembling beasts. The small sampling of races she discovered in Moon's town had nothing on the city, and everywhere her eye caught a new one.

“This is a bad idea,” Frank said as he stepped through the portal to join Heather on the other side.

“You say that about all my ideas,” Heather remarked as she watched the parade of races go by.

“And I have yet to be proven wrong,” he replied.

Heather turned and scowled at him as Quinny hopped through the portal, laughing.

“We need to be quick,” Breanne said as she came through. “Time is against us.”

“You’re sure it won’t last?” Heather asked.

“I am sure,” Breanne said. “If they didn't put a time limit on them, there would be tens of thousands of open portals in the world by now.”

I don’t understand why they had to walk to the graveyard when they could just open a portal,” Heather remarked.

“It doesn't work like that,” Breanne replied. “They can't open a portal to someplace they have never been, and even then there has to be some magic to create an anchor point. The plaza has a magical anchor built into it, so a portal can be opened to that point from anywhere. All they have to do is know the magical word for the city, and the portal will link.”

“Does every city have an anchor like this?”

“Every city and some large towns,” Breanne said. “But a wizard who is already there could create a temporary anchor point so others could open portals to it. So long as others know the word that was used to create it, they can open a portal to it.”

“How do you know that?” Heather asked.

“How do you think the necromancer kings were invaded so easily?” Breanne replied.

Heather nodded and looked at her friends. Breanne was in her elven form with her long dark hair straight back and a silver tiara on her head. She was in a dark blue dress tied at the waist with a silver belt that made her look regal. Quinny looked like a human woman with shoulder-length brown hair and was wrapped in one of Heather's simple dresses. Frank was once again a human man with broad shoulders and a muscled chest. He wore leather armor and clothes scavenged from an adventurer slain in the graveyard. He had thick dark hair and a strong face that made him rather handsome. She smiled at how he looked and wondered why he would ever play a ghoul.

“Let’s go,” Quinny said. “I want to explore.”

Heather nodded and took one last look around to get her bearings and then led them into the street. She made her way down the lane, amazed by the shops and buildings around her. She tried not to gawk at the strangeness of the people around her. One woman was barely two feet tall but floated in the air on a pair of butterfly wings. She had two curling antennae on her head and black insect-like eyes. A man went by whose skin was pale blue, but his hair was dark blue and rolled like water. He carried a spear with three points and wore a simple tunic and sandals.

“You look like a tourist,” Frank gripped, reminding her to stop looking around so eagerly.

“I have never seen anything like this,” Heather remarked as a woman who had the lower body of a zebra passed by. “This is amazing.”

“This is nothing,” Quinny said. “There are lots of amazing races.”

Heather tried to keep her glances under control but couldn't help herself as they made their way along. They rounded a corner to see another plaza inside of which was a fountain. The base was made of marble and crafted into a round basin. The water poured out of five floating statues that slowly circled about the pool. Each made of a different colored stone and with a mist of silver at their feet.

“How are they doing that?” she asked.

“Magic,” Frank said dryly.

She wanted to kick him in the shin but was afraid it would pop the illusion of the potion. Of course, it was magic, but what kind and how was it used? The simple way he dismissed things as being that way just because wasn't enough for her, she wanted to know precisely how. They made their way to the plaza so she could get a better look at the fountain when a scent crossed their paths.

“Food,” Quinny said with a pleasant tone.

“That smells wonderful,” Heather added, looking around. “Where is it coming from?”

The plaza was some kind of outdoor market, and the outer walls were lined with wagons and colorful stalls. The buildings behind them appeared to be more shops, each with a sign to indicate what was inside.

“We should see if we can find it,” Quinny suggested.

“You don’t need to eat,” Frank replied.

“I can still enjoy food,” Quinny argued. “Besides, Heather might want some.”

Heather could only agree as she searched for the source of the smell. She reasoned it would be upwind, so they walked into the breeze and down a narrow lane lined with stalls. The scent grew stronger until they finally found a bakery.

“I'm getting something,” Heather said as she ran for the door. Quinny was right behind her, nearly tackling her to get through.

“Children,” Breanne said with a shake of her head.

Frank shrugged and followed them in as Heather and Quinny dashed to a counter.

“They have cinnamon rolls,” Heather exclaimed as she looked through the glass at the contents inside.

“Cookies!” Quinny added from her side.

“Make your choices quick,” Breanne insisted. “Remember were pressed for time.”

Heather nodded and looked up to find a man with a narrow face and reddish skin. He had a pair of black curled horns on his head and dark, mysterious eyes. He was behind the counter in an apron so white it contrasted sharply with his otherwise dark appearance.

“Can I help you, ladies?” he said in a smooth tone.

“I want a dozen of everything!” Quinny shouted as Heather went to reply.

“Just two cinnamon rolls, please.”

The man nodded and ducked behind the counter. She watched as he plucked the rolls from the tray and put them into a bag.

“New in town?” he asked as he folded the lip of the bag.

Heather was stuck a long moment before she nodded her head. “Yeah, this is my first time in a large city. I have been out in the countryside since I got here.”

He nodded and placed the bag on the counter, and moved to help Quinny. He began to fill her much larger order but continued to talk to Heather.

“It's no surprise then,” he said. “People get tired of rations, and when they finally get to a city, they go a little crazy.”

Heather nodded as he added a second bag to Quinny’s order.

“Do you know where I could get some boots?”

He filled the second bag and nodded as he stood back up. “Sure do, there are a dozen people in the city who make shoes or boots. You looking for style or function?”

Heather wasn’t sure what she wanted and had to ponder the question a bit. “Just something comfortable to walk in for hours.”

“Traveling boots,” he said with a not. “Follow the street to the end, hang a right, and about a dozen buildings down is Greenbriars leather works. They have some good functional boots.”

“Thank you,” Heather replied as a third bag was filled.

“That’s enough,” Breanne said.

“But I want more,” Quinny argued.

“We don’t have the time,” Breanne stated firmly.

“Fine!” Quinny groaned and pulled out her coin purse. The treats were paid for, and they walked out the door with Quinny already eating her second stuffed creme.

“Let's get the boots before we waste any more time,” Breanne said.

Heather nodded and licked at the frosting of her roll. She was washed away with the sweet taste of sugar and a sudden longing to go home. The thought was quickly beat down, and she took a bite of cinnamon-infused goodness.

The streets here were lined with shops that caught her eye. Many places sold clothing and had fantastic displays in the windows. Flowing gowns made of materials she couldn't identify, with matching hats and gloves. Nearly every shop promised to be a fantastic experience, but Breanne insisted they get their business done before they wasted more time.

Eventually, they found the shop and went inside. It was a quaint little shop full of leather goods from boots, to belts, to backpacks to a few clothing items that made Heather blush. A woman with golden skin, bright yellow eyes, and hair woven in a braid that defied gravity helped them. She looked human for the most part but had a long slender tail and furry round ears closer to the top of her head. Her nose was black, and she had whiskers around her mouth.

“Quinny, what race is that?” Heather whispered when the woman went to fetch some boots.

Quinny looked over the woman in a simple blue dress and shrugged.

“Some kind of mouse. Maybe rodentrel, or a sarelmouse.”

“A mouse?” Heather mouthed quietly as the woman returned. Now that she had a closer look, she could see the eyes were entirely black, and there was a gentle fur all across her face giving her a golden look.

Heather was further surprised that every pair of boots she tried on fit. The woman had to explain that the magic of the world made it so. Anything would resize to fit properly if she simply tried to put it on.

“You’re kidding?” Heather quipped.

“Not at all,” the mouse woman replied. “It’s just like any RPG.”

Heather nodded her agreement even though she had no idea games were like that. With this sudden revelation, her choices became simple; it was all down to taste. Since everything would fit, there was no point in trying them on. All she had to do was choose what appealed to her and would go with her dresses. She bought three pairs of boots in various styles with one black pair that had a raised heel. It went nearly to her knee and buckled with fiver leather straps.

“What outfit is that for?” Quinny asked as she looked at the strange choice.

“I dunno,” Heather replied. “They appeal to me.” She walked up to Frank with a smile and held out the bag.

“You want me to carry it, don't you?” he said with a frown.

“Please,” Heather asked. “I can’t eat my last cinnamon roll and carry these.”

Frank sighed and took the bag freeing Heather to continue nibbling her treat.

Breanne once again reminded them of the time limitation, so they returned to the plaza to browse the stalls with what little time they had left.

“They have clocks!” Heather remarked when she walked into a stall that ticked from every direction.

“We sure do,” a thin human man dressed in simple shirt and pants. “You don’t need magic to make a clock.”

“What good is a clock?” Frank asked. “You can just look at the sun.”

“The sun is broken,” Heather remarked as she looked over the choices. “I would like to know more times than morning, noon, evening, and night.”

“It’s not like you can carry it with you like a watch,” he insisted.

“Unless you can tell me what time it is when I ask, I am getting a clock,” Heather insisted.

She chose an ornate clock that was carved to look like trees and had a wheel of fairies chasing a unicorn that would spin and dance when the clock struck twelve.

She paid for it and handed it to Frank to carry.

“Why do I end up carrying everything? You’re done with your roll.”

“I need my hands free to pick things up,” Heather remarked.

“You could hold this in one hand and use the other to pick things up,” he insisted. “I end up carrying everything.”

“You’re not carrying my treats,” Quinny said.

“That’s because you have eaten most of them,” he replied with a shake of his head. “Why can’t we put this in your backpack?”

Heather paused a moment and then let out a sigh.

“My backpack is full,” she said.

“With what?”

She reached up and took the bag from her shoulders and lifted the lid to reveal the bright eyes of the spider inside peering out.

“You brought it with?” Frank exclaimed.

“He was upset that I was going to leave him,” Heather sighed. “He followed me around the tower, making those sad noises.”

Frank's eyes narrowed, and she closed the pack tightly.

“Don’t you judge me,” she said. “I felt terrible that I hurt his feelings. How was I supposed to leave him behind?”

“By shutting the door,” Frank replied. “What if somebody sees him and has a bad reaction like you did?”

Heather looked around at the veritable zoo of people and creatures about and raised her arms.

“Who would notice?”

“You take too many risks,” he said.

“When I met you, you were all, this world is amazing and so much fun. Now you are like my father half of the time.”

“That was before I knew about the laws against certain classes and the penalties for it,” he remarked. “You're my friend, and I don't want any of that to happen to you.”

Heather smiled and shouldered her bag. Frank was protective like a big brother, and she could give him a little break.

“He will stay in the pack, and nobody will see him, now let's keep shopping.”

They visited a dozen more stalls, looking at all sorts of things from the mundane to the amazing. Eventually, she spotted a shop that sold magic reagents and insisted on going inside. From her experience with the familiar spell, she knew she would need some ingredients for later. She quickly asked for powdered silver and plenty of sulfur. She added bone dust and five bottles of a solution known as quicksilver. All of these, she gleaned from the book as being important to future spells. She was slightly angry that she hadn't read much further to learn more. There had to be a dozen more things that would prove useful, but there were thousands to pick from.

Part of her wished she could just ask the shopkeeper what a necromancer would need, but of course, she couldn't. One item she did remember was the pollen of a moon lotus. The shopkeeper looked at her oddly when she asked for it but went and dug it out from a jar hidden behind the counter. It turned out to be surprisingly expensive, and she nearly exhausted her money, buying a tiny amount.

Back in the street, Heather held up the little jar staring at the white dust inside. “Why did that cost so much?”

“It must be a rare item,” Frank said.

“We should be careful about what we buy,” Breanne said. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ NƟvelFɪre.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

“Why?” Heather asked as she put the jar into a pouch at her waist.

Breanne looked around and then leaned in to whisper.

“Some ingredients can only be used by certain classes. For all, we know only a necromancer needs that, and we have raised that man's suspicions.”

Heather wondered if maybe Breanne was right. What if her class was the only one that needed it, and she had given herself away? But why would they stock an item only a banned class would use? As she tried to puzzle that out, she stumbled when a man in a gray cloak bumped into her. He apologized profusely and melted back into the crowds. She watched him go a moment before returning to her worries and the time left. Out of nervousness, she reached down to squeeze the pouch with the pollen only to discover it was gone.

“My bag is gone?” she said in alarm as she spun around to see if she had dropped it.

“What bag?” Frank asked.

“The one at my waist that I just put that pollen in.” She looked up in time to catch a glimpse of the man who bumped her ducking down an alleyway.

“He stole my bag!” she shouted and ran after him.

“Heather, wait!” Frank cried, but she was already in full run. She had to struggle through some groups of people but made it to the alley to see nothing but a narrow street. With anger boiling in her veins, she dashed into the shadows determined to find him.

The alley made her slow her pace as she left the safety of crowds behind and wandered deep into the maze between buildings.

“This wouldn’t be wise in any city,” Heather said as her eyes searched around.

“Looking for me?” a voice called, turning her about to see the man in the gray cloak somehow standing behind her.

Heather took a firm stand and planted her left hand to a hip while holding the right out.

“Give me back my bag,” she said firmly.

There was a glimpse of as mile under the hood as he stepped closer, tossing her bag in his hand.

“Do you mean this?” he asked. “What a strange purchase to make. Nobody has needed moon lotus pollen in a long time.”

“I am researching a spell,” Heather said. “I want to grow flowers by moonlight.”

“Is that so?” he replied, now standing no more than two meters away. “Are you going to tell me you're a druid?”

“A flower singer,” Heather said as strongly as she could manage. Secretly her heart was beating fast as the man blocked her escape. Now that he was closer, she felt intimidated. He wore leather armor with metal studs, that protected his chest and shoulders, but left his muscular arms bare.

He held the pouch gripped tightly in a hand as he looked down at her. His face was hidden with a short, rugged beard, and his blue eyes were piercing and calculating.

“A flower singer is it? What other classes are you hiding?”

“Why is this any of your business?” Heather demanded as she saw Frank and the others coming down the alley behind the man.

The man glanced over his shoulder to see them and smiled again.

“Your friends are coming. I best be on my way then.”

“Not with my bag you won't,” Heather stated, but the man only smiled and vanished right before her eyes.

“What?” she said in alarm, looking all around.

There was a sudden yank at her back as her backpack came free. She spun around to see him again, holding her backpack in hand with another mocking smile.

“I will take this as well since I am here,” he said and vanished again.

“Heather?” Frank called as they closed on her.

“He was right here, and then he poofed!” Heather said.

“Who was?”

“The man who took my bag,” Heather replied. “I was just talking to him, and he vanished into thin air.”

“A rogue of some kind,” Breanne said. “Probably a stalker, or an assassin.”

“He has my backpack now!” Heather insisted.

“Unless you have a way to detect him, I doubt we will be getting it back,” Breanne said.

Heather briefly thought about flooding the alley with her disease cloud but wasn't sure if that would give her away. It was then she felt a strange sensation in her head and realized it was Webster.

“Oh my gosh!” she cried. “Websters in the backpack! I can hear him in my head, calling me!”

“The familiar,” Breanne said. “Can you feel where he is?”

Heather turned around several times and decided the sensation felt strongest down a side alley.

“That way,” she said.

“How much longer do we have?” Frank asked as they looked down the alley.

“It doesn't matter; he has my super expensive pollen and my familiar. We can't let him get away.”

“Quinny and I can’t get into an open fight,” Frank said. “The illusion will fade the moment we attack.”

“We’re taking a big risk going after him,” Breanne said.

Heather paused to consider it. She wasn't fond of spiders, but the creature was hers, and she felt horrible leaving him behind.

“You three go back to the portal and wait. I will get Webster myself. If the time runs out, go back to the graveyard, I will walk home.”

“Not a chance,” Quinny said. “I ate all my treats. I am ready to die.”

“You’re already dead,” Frank said.

“Death, undeath, it's all the same. We all have binding stones; none of us will lose anything.”

Frank held up the clock and the other packages he was carrying for Heather.

“We lose all this,” he pointed out. “And we run the risk of Heather's secret getting out.”

“We don’t have time to argue about this,” Breanne said. “We either go after the thief or go back to the portal.”

Frank rolled his eyes with a sigh that looked so boyish on his human face.

“Let’s go get the bags,” he said.

Heather nodded and hurried off, running at a trot as she followed the pull of her familiar. The alley twisted and turned, opening on a side street that was relatively empty. The buildings here looked to be homes, and she followed the tugging down the winding street until they came to a series of steps that led down to a lower section full of much larger buildings.

“Some kind of warehouse district,” Frank said. “We might not be allowed in there.”

“We have passed a dozen guards, and not one of them has so much as reacted to us,” Breanne pointed out.

“I can feel him down there, he's close,” Heather insisted.

Down the steps they went into a section of the city that looked rougher. There were people about again, but the roads were dirt tracks, the buildings looked weathered and worn, and eye patches were common. She rounded a building, and the tug moved with her, turning her around to face the wall.

“He's in there,” she said and looked down the wall of the building to a single, double doorway. Three huge orcs stood at the door in spiked armor, barring the way inside.

“How do we get inside?” Quinny asked as they all noted the guards.

“You really have to ask that?” Breanne said and motioned them around the other side. They squeezed into a dingy alley between two buildings and came to a halt.

“Wait a moment,” Breanne said as her color faded, and she became the banshee. She leaned over, putting her head through the wall as the other three looked on in amazement.

“I should have been a ghost,” Quinny grumbled again as Breanne leaned back up.

“It’s a warehouse of some kind. This end is full of barrels and crates. I will pull you all through one at a time.”

“Through the wall?” Frank said in shock.

“You have seen me do it with Heather,” Breanne said and grabbed Quinny by the hand.

“Wait, what if I get stuck in the wall?” Quinny protested as Breanne stepped through and yanked Quinny with her.

She returned a moment later and pulled Frank through, then leaned out and took Heather by the hand. The strange sensation of passing through cold water returned, and a moment later, she was in a dark space with the others.

All around them were piles of boxes, barrels, ropes, bags, and assorted items. The lower floor was one big room with stout wooden posts holding up an upper floor that was open in the center to the space below. Dingy light came down in dusty rays through holes in the roof, filling the interior with deep shadows.

Heather fell into her spell, taking on her undead sight to banish the shadows away.

“I don't see anybody,” Quinny whispered as they peered into the warehouse. A second later, they heard voices and a thump followed by a new voice they couldn't make out.

“We can't see very well from here,” Frank said. “There's too much in the way; we're going to have to get closer.”

Heather nodded and crept around the barrels making her way deeper into the warehouse. She noticed a flickering light around a tall pile of crates, and the voices came clearer.

“So what did she buy?” a woman said.

“Moon lotus pollen,” a man said. Heather immediately recognized the voice as the man from the alley, but strangely the woman’s voice as familiar too.

“That is an odd thing to buy. I assume the shop keeper alerted you,” the woman said.

“He did his job, alright.”

“I hope so, I pay him well enough,” the woman replied. “Where is the girl now?”

“I left her in the alleys in the market district. She had too many friends with her to smuggle her back here.”

“I see. What kind of friends?”

“An elf woman, a barbarian man, and a human girl.”

“Why am I a girl?” Quinny whispered as they crouched behind the stack of boxes.

“Shush,” Breanne whispered back.

“Easy for you to say, you get to be a woman.”

Breanne smacked the back of her head, making her stick her tongue out in return.

“So not the one we're looking for,” the woman's voice said. “I suppose she could be a witch; they have a spell that uses this pollen.”

“She doesn't dress like any witch I have ever seen, told me she was a flower singer, and wanted it for a spell she was working on.”

“I said I was researching how to grow plants in the moonlight,” Heather said softly. “It's like talking to my ex-boyfriends, he remembers it the way he wants.”

“Who is he talking to?” Frank asked as the sound of footsteps echoed around the warehouse.

A slender form with white hair walked out from around the crates with her back to them. She tossed her hair as she held up the jar of pollen.

“This will sell back for a nice profit,” she said.

“Why does she sound so familiar?” Quinny asked.

“I was thinking that too,” Frank said.

The woman paused a moment and then paced back behind cover. Heather was growing frustrated by hiding and dared to peek around the corner. The woman sat on the edge of a table beside her backpack, not noticing it moving slightly as Webster stirred inside. Heather's eyes went up to the face noticing the dark skin as her mouth fell open.

She recoiled from the edge, stunned, and looked to Frank with a shocked expression.

“What is it?” Frank asked.

“It’s her,” Heather whispered.

“Her who?

Heather paused to steady her breath as her voice shook.

“It’s Moon.”

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