14

The first thing they actually did was get out of the cave, since staying there was a guaranteed way to die. Up in the temple proper, they started with making the boys comfortable in the office, the only room in the building that had no windows.

Rather than put the bloodstone necklace around his neck, as one normally would, Korbinian wound the chain around his wrist and fingers, so the stone rested against the back of his left hand like some sort of ornate gauntlet. It seemed to glow faintly now, like someone had held it up right against a candle and small bits of light were getting through.

After Korbinian had cast what protections he could and they'd left the boys with plenty of food and water, it was time to turn their attention to the main sanctuary. "So what's the plan?" Olaf asked. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Yes, actually, there is, though honestly, your presence is enough." Korbinian smiled fleetingly. "Want to learn a new song?"

Interest tingled along the back of Olaf's neck. "A necromantic one?"

"Yes, there's actually several. While I'm sure you'd manage to recreate all of them on your own like you did the first one," Korbinian said with a laugh, "it might be easier if I just teach them to you. As best I can, anyway. I'm hoping your impressive skills will make up for my severe lack of any skill whatsoever."

Olaf laughed. "You're good at everything else. Very good. I think you can tolerate one flaw."

"Very good, huh?" Korbinian said with a slow smile that left Olaf hot and tingly. "Five willing, I can be very very good later."

"That would be very nice," Olaf said solemnly, grinning when Korbinian laughed. "Now teach me this new song."

Heaving a sigh, Korbinian extended a hand. "Let me see the pipes. I apologize in advance for how bad this is going to be."

"You'll do fine," Olaf said, handing over the bone pipes, not remotely certain what to do with the sudden, sharp reluctance that ran through him. Since when had he become possessive about pipes made from human bone that technically belonged to someone else?

Korbinian chuckled softly and played a few crude notes on them before saying, "They're more yours than mine, and possessiveness is typical when it comes to talismans like this. So far as I'm concerned, the pipes are yours, and the more time passes and the more necromantic pieces you learn and play, the more yours they'll become."

Olaf gave him a look. "Are you certain you can't read my thoughts?"

"I promise I can't. I'm just good at guessing your thoughts from your emotions. I spend a lot of time alone, and before I retired, my job always entailed dealing with people on one of the worst days of their lives. I've gotten good at sorting thoughts and emotions. Now please try your best to follow what I will fail miserably to play."

"I wouldn't care if you could read my thoughts, to be clear. You can't be that bad at playing the pipes," Olaf replied, but just seconds into the piece, he had to admit he had been wrong, horribly wrong. Korbinian was terrible.

Grinning sheepishly as he finished, the room falling mercifully silent, Korbinian said, "I warned you. Do you think you can make sense out of any of that?"

"Let me try." Olaf took the pipes back and played the first bit of it, correcting himself alongside Korbinian's humming, until he had the gist of it down.

"I have to start warding this place, but keep going, and I'll help you as I work," Korbinian said.

So that was what they did, and after only a few minutes, Olaf realized all he really needed to do was close his eyes and concentrate on Korbinian while he played. He could practically hear the music in the bond, or maybe his brain was just translating emotions into music somehow.

Whatever the reason, he sat there, eyes closed, and put all his focus on Korbinian and the pipes, translating one to the other, filling the sanctuary with one haunting melody after another.

He startled, pipes jerking from his lips, when something touched his thigh.

Korbinian's hand.

Drawing a shuddering breath, shaking off the concentration, Olaf opened his eyes and stared into Korbinian's. "Sorry. Guess I got lost in it."

"No kidding," Korbinian said with a smile. "You didn't play one song, you played five. I didn't even have to teach them to you. Somehow you just pulled them right from my head. This bond is extraordinary. Would you know which piece I mean when I tell you to play it by name?"

Olaf opened his mouth, then closed it, frowning a moment before finally saying slowly, "I don't know. Try it and see."

"Memory of the Lost Sun."

Olaf was playing almost before Korbinian finished speaking.

"Lullaby for the Stolen Dead."

That was the one Olaf had taught himself, though he didn't know how he knew that was its name, when he certainly hadn't known it before.

The remaining songs, ticked off by Korbinian and played by Olaf, were Sorrow of the Cursed Hunger, Rage of the Endless Wanderers, Prayer for the Lonely Broken, and Tears of the Forgotten Heart.

Olaf drew a shaky breath as he set the pipes aside. "How did I know that?"

Korbinian smiled faintly and leaned in to kiss him. "You're a marvelous student, that's how, and I would wager the magic likes you. I've never known necromancy to be drawn to those who will never practice it as I do, but… clearly it knew you were suited, in your own way. Magic is the lifeblood of the world, after all, even the magic of death."

Olaf took another kiss, then drew back and asked, "How is it going with the warding?"

"Windows are well sealed, which will limit how they can come after us. Now you're all set, I'm going to take care of the rest of the temple, ensure the only way they're coming to us is through that door."

"Be careful. I'm going to go sit with the boys until you're done, unless you need me to stay here."

Korbinian shook his head, kissed him again, quick and sharp, and withdrew. "No, sit with them. I'll be finished soon, and then I'll start on setting traps. They're getting close, so we've not much time, but I think we'll have enough."

He headed off up the stairs, and Olaf returned to the office, where Luk and Ulli were still fast asleep, though from the noises and shifting, they'd be waking up soon. Olaf rifled through Korbinian's belongings for the tea supplies, and in short order had the little office stove nice and warm, a kettle heating, and the tea ready for brewing. Not bad at all, given he was still getting used to the whole only one arm thing.

When the tea was brewed, he pulled out his pipes and practiced the new pieces some more, even though it already felt like he'd been playing them his whole life.

Ulli woke first, as Olaf was finally setting the pipes aside to finish his tea. "How are you feeling?" He put the kettle back on the stove to get the water warmed and prepared two more cups.

"Not bad, I guess," Ulli whispered. "I'm sorry about…"

Olaf lifted his hand, not really wanting to hear the rest of it. He wasn't sure he'd be able to stomach it. "You did what you felt was necessary. I admire your bravery, but I lament your stupidity. There will be plenty of moments in the future where you'll have to put yourself at risk. Don't do it sooner than you must, all right? If you really want to train under Korbinian, you need to start by showing the same caution he does. Understand?"

Ulli nodded, and then said, "Yes, Father."

Olaf's heart broke all over again to be addressed that way. Only days ago Ulli's mother had still been alive, and Olaf had been 'Uncle,' and now…

Stifling a sigh, he gave Ulli a hug and then made him a cup of tea, making a second for Luk, who was already slowing stirring.

Luk yawned and stretched as he sat up, hair adorably rumpled. For a single moment, Olaf could pretend they were home safe and sound on an ordinary day, his kids waking up from a nap after playing hard all morning.

Then Luk took in his surroundings and looked ready to cry as reality returned, and Olaf's wistful fantasy spun away. He went to the sofa and sat next to him, hugging him tightly. "It'll be all right, Luk. Never like it was, but it will still be something good."

"I wish we'd never opened that box," Luk said, tears falling down his cheeks.

"You had no choice," Olaf replied gently. "The monster in the box was always going to make someone open it, the moment it was taken out of the cave—even while it was the cave, it would have just taken a little longer. Come on, drink your tea and then tell me more about how you managed to get out of Whitebridge and all the way here. How you managed to… steal my severed arm."

Both boys looked ill at the mention of it, but Ulli's eyes were also different now that he looked. They'd always been brown before, but now he swore that one looked faintly green, the other faintly blue.

Olaf had always assumed Luk would follow him into ropemaking, or find some other trade around the village, if he and Ulli didn't leave for something better. Now, though… after all this, he would have to see to it that Luk received proper martial training. Not just so he'd be better able to fend for himself in situations like this—and sadly, he wasn't stupid enough to think this was a one-off occasion, not anymore—but so he could help Ulli. The two were so close, he couldn't imagine Luk wanting to do anything except remain at Ulli's side as he trained to become a necromancer and someday stood as one all on his own.

So many new problems. Such complicated futures ahead of them. Olaf wasn't remotely certain he was suited to being their father, not now so much had changed, but he'd be damned if he trusted the raising of his children to anyone else.

Well, no, he trusted Bianka of course. Greta and Senta. If he died, they would see the kids well-tended for.

Korbinian went without saying, but well… if Olaf died, that was probably because Korbinian had died first.

"They're close," Ulli whispered, staring wide-eyed at Olaf. "I can feel them. The dead things. They're in the village. They'll be here soon. What are we going to do?"

"You and Luk are going to stay here where it's safe. You will not leave this room until we come back to get you, or if…" Olaf took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Or if we fall. If we don't make it, you do whatever you need to get out of here and run for your lives. I suggest going upstairs and out a window. They'll have a harder time following you that way. Understand me?"

Luk was crying, his tea forgotten in his hands. "Don't go, Daddy!"

Olaf took their tea away before they dropped or spilled it, then hugged each of them tightly, kissing the tops of their heads. "I will do everything I can to come back to you, my darlings, but my first priority is your safety. I know you've been through a lot. Too much for anyone to deal with, let alone children. Hang on just a little longer and this will be over, and we'll go somewhere new and safe."

"Yes, Daddy," they sniffled, faces pressed so hard into his clothes that the words were barely comprehensible.

They all turned at the sound of footsteps, and Olaf smiled faintly at Korbinian. "Your little protégé informs me they're close now."

"Yes, and there is at least one, possibly two of the vanguard in the mix. Better than the entire vanguard like last time, but still, this will not be easy."

"We can help!" Ulli said. "I can do stuff now!"

Korbinian's face took on a stern expression. "The only reason you're not in trouble for breaking one of the most important rules of necromancy is because the circumstances are extenuating, to say the least. You are not doing anything until you're properly trained. Stay here."

Ulli frowned, but only nodded and let Luk hug him.

"Please stay here," Olaf said one last time before following Korbinian out of the room and back into the sanctuary.

Tension coiled through Korbinian, in his stance and even more strongly in the bond. Whatever was going to happen, he was worried it would not go to their favor.

"Stay here and play," Korbinian said. "Whatever happens, keep playing. Start with Sorrow and when I signal, switch to Rage."

"Understood."

"If they break past me, take the boys and run." Korbinian surged in and kissed him deeply, leaving Olaf aching.

Olaf gripped the side of his neck, thumb stroking gently as he pressed their temples together. "Don't die, you stupid bastard. I'm not raising a precocious necromancer all by myself."

Korbinian laughed and withdrew, saluting playfully before he went down the length of the sanctuary, to about the halfway point, where he'd drawn a circle from sigils that resembled the ones on his skin. The circle glowed apple green as he stepped into the center of it, and for a moment it looked as though a wall of shimmering green light formed behind him.

A crawling sensation crept across Olaf's skin, and his missing arm flared with sharp, searing pain. Ignoring it, he put the pipes to his lips and played, pouring everything he had into the music, closing his eyes and trusting Korbinian to let him know when to open them.

The crawling sensation worsened, like it was under his skin now. He could smell the Risen Dead, mildew and old dust and rotting meat. Something hot and metallic on the air, like the air after lightning struck or fresh-spilled blood.

Olaf cracked his eyes open the barest bit, stomach clenching as he saw the mass of Risen Dead spilling into the temple. Most were Ravenous, but there were also Rattle Bones and some wispy, floating figures that vaguely resembled the things they'd fought on their way back from Rochdale before. Ghosts, he suspected, and the way the bond flickered ever so gently at the back of his mind seemed to confirm that.

Green light flared, shot out in waves, and the first row of Risen Dead were knocked down, knocked back. Korbinian did it again, sending more toppling. The remaining were still great in number, trudging over the fallen as though they were nothing. As they drew closer, Korbinian drew his swords. Olaf had never seen him do that before; he always worked with one or the other, but never both.

"Rage!" Korbinian bellowed and lunged into the fray.

Olaf obediently changed tunes, pouring everything he had, every scrap of fear and affection and determination. Around him, the Risen Dead screamed and wailed, fighting viciously but no match for a determined necromancer backed up by a bloodstone and necromantic music.

Then a chill rushed through the room, like a blast of winter in the middle of summer heat, frigid and out of place. Olaf faltered in surprise, stared in horror as two of the Blood Bones came through the doorway flanked by six skeletons that were a sickly old blood color. These had to be Whisper Bones.

"Play!" Korbinian snarled.

Olaf swore softly and went back to playing, ignoring the exhaustion beginning to tug at him, the overwhelming terror that crept in on the heels of that icy wind.

"Close your eyes!"

Olaf obeyed immediately, because that he remembered from their first meeting. Had it only been days ago?

Light flared, visible even behind his closed lids, brilliant apple green, a color that would shape the rest of his life, whether it lasted five seconds or five decades.

As it faded, Olaf opened his eyes again—and nearly dropped his pipes to see that Korbinian was facing off directly with the Blood Bones. The Vanguard. Only two had come, though, so where were the other two?

Korbinian screamed as he raised the bloodstone on his hand, driving back both the Blood Bones. His bone sword seemed to glow with blue and green light as he swung. The skull of the nearest Blood Bone went tumbling away, lost and likely crushed in the tumult.

The other Blood Bone made a sound somewhere between a hiss and scream; it scraped at Olaf's ears like nails against slate. He kept playing, though, because if this one thing was all the help he could provide, he'd do it until he was dead.

He watched as Korbinian withdrew, stepping behind that wall of shimmery green light, slumping as he panted heavily, shoulders heaving with it. Olaf cast out are you all right as best he could, unwilling to cease playing until told otherwise.

"Exhausted, but fine," Korbinian replied without turning around. He held something up, and after a moment Olaf realized what it was: the pendant the beheaded Blood Bone had been wearing. One of the reliquaries.

Purple light flared and then slowly, steadily, it turned green. Olaf watched until the light became too bright, then closed his eyes and played, moving from Rage to Lullaby on some instinct he had no time to question.

Soft but firm approval drifted through the bond, and Olaf returned it with a push of affection and encouragement. Maybe this wouldn't be so hard to get used to after all.

Then Korbinian screamed in pain, and Olaf dropped his pipes as the pain ripped through him. He ran, staring at the wall of green light, the monsters pressing against it—and Korbinian, struggling to sit up, his hand bleeding where he'd been gripping the reliquary. "What happened?"

"The bastard drained me," Korbinian bit out. "It used its own reliquary to steal from the one I have. I don't have anything left, not enough to finish this. Take the children and get out while the shield is holding."

"Fuck you," Olaf said. "Use me. That's what the bond—"

"I'm not stealing your energy—"

"It's not stealing if I tell you to do it! Stop being a fucking child and use the resources you have to hand! Fucking do it, or I swear to the Five I will haunt you for the next five lifetimes, you stupid, stubborn bastard."

Korbinian gave a shaky laugh and finally heaved up to his knees, and then more unsteadily to his feet, helped by Olaf. "Fine. All right. But we're talking about your gleeful lack of boundaries later. I'm sorry if this hurts, I've never done it before." He sank one hand into the hair at Olaf's nape and dragged him into a hard kiss, and as he drew back, Olaf felt a pull. A tug. Then a searing yank, like he was being unraveled from the inside out.

Then Korbinian was back in the fight, retrieving the reliquary, looping it onto the back of his left hand like he'd done with the bloodstone on his right. Retrieving his sword, he surged through the shield and back into the fray.

Olaf slumped back to the floor, too exhausted and dizzy all of a sudden to even retrieve his pipes and resumed playing. He watched as Korbinian hacked away at the Risen Dead, fighting his way to the second Blood Bone.

He watched as they finally came to blows, but before he could see how the fight ended, everything went gray, and then black.

"—up, Olaf."

"Mmph," Olaf replied. He opened his eyes, then immediately closed them again. "Why is it so fucking bright?"

Korbinian's familiar warm chuckle washed over him, and amusement drifted through the bond as well. "It's called sunlight, sweetheart."

"Well, put it out," Olaf retorted, even as he slowly opened his eyes again and let Korbinian help him up. "We're still in the temple." Though in the room where they'd had Luk and Ulli hide, not in the sanctuary, which was the last thing he remembered.

"Yes, but you slept the whole night through. I was starting to worry you wouldn't wake up, even as the bond told me you'd be all right."

Olaf yawned. "Nothing food and tea won't fix. I assume you won the day, and this isn't some strange dream while my dead body goes off to eat people?"

Korbinian gave him a look. "You are the strangest fellow sometimes. No, this is not some dream. All is well, at least for now. Thanks to you, I had what I needed to turn that fucking Blood Bone's trick back on itself, and after I destroyed him, routing the remaining Risen was relatively easy. Was too exhausted to get all of us home, though, so I strengthened the shields and dragged you somewhere more comfortable."

"The boys?"

"Impatiently wandering the main sanctuary. It's safe, it's safe. I destroyed all the remains, and they can't leave the temple, I made sure of that."

Olaf chuckled. "Help me up. I feel like I've been sleeping on solid rock."

"Honestly, rock would be an improvement over these floors," Korbinian said, and got them both to their feet.

"So what happened?" Olaf asked. "Are you feeling all right? I've been awake two whole minutes, and there's no tea."

Korbinian gave him a look that could only be described as fond exasperation. Exasperated fondness? "It's brewing, smart ass." He leaned in and kissed Olaf softly. "Are you feeling all right? Truly?"

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine." Olaf chased his mouth to steal a longer kiss. "So what was it like borrowing my energy?"

"I don't think it's called borrowing when I can't give it back and you slept for at least twelve hours after collapsing from the strain of it," Korbinian said. He draped his arms around Olaf and held him close, resting his head on top of Olaf's. "It was exhilarating and terrifying. The longer we're bonded, the more I appreciate why it was outlawed. I hope I never have to do that again."

Olaf smiled against his chest. "I admit it wasn't the most thrilling sensation from my side, but I trust you to do it when the situation calls for it. Hopefully, though, necromancy isn't always this exciting."

"No, no it's not." Drawing back slightly, Korbinian cupped his face and kissed him again. "I am sorry you've been swept up permanently in this. You never really had a choice. You've lost your life. Your arm."

"I'm still relatively whole, and I have my children, and there's a house waiting for us in a good city when this is over. It's true I didn't expect to go from humble ropemaker to necromancer's…companion? But as I have told you before, you ceaselessly fretting man, I am content with the changes to my life. Or I would be if my sons didn't keep trying to induce a heart attack."

Korbinian chuckled and kissed him again, nothing soft or idle about this one, but sharp and hungry. Needy.

"Ew."

"Gross."

Olaf drew back with a sigh. "I'm going to remind you two of this moment in a few years when situations are reversed."

That got him twin blank looks. "Huh?" Luk said.

Chuckling, Olaf let go of Korbinian and stepped back. "Would you two like some tea?"

The boys agreed absently, immediately launching into listing all their observations in the temple and rattling off questions for Korbinian. Olaf was more than happy to sit off to the side, thanking Korbinian with a soft smile as he was handed a cup of tea.

His body ached, inside and out, all the way down to his bones in a way he'd never felt before. Having his energy pulled from him like yarn from a ball was definitely something he didn't want to grow accustomed to.

Looking around the room, his gaze eventually fell on Korbinian's armor, hanging from a large, ugly bust repurposed as a stand. Around the neck were three necklaces: the bloodstone and two reliquaries. They all shimmered faintly but didn't glow with anywhere near the power they had while in the midst of the fight. Below the bust, lying on the table, were Olaf's pipes.

Setting his tea aside, he rose and went to the table, scooping the pipes up and feeling infinitely better when they were tucked into their pocket where they belonged.

Returning to his tea, ignoring Korbinian's amused look, Olaf asked, "So what do we do now? Can we make it back to Whitebridge?"

"To be honest, I don't know. I expected the whole of the Vanguard to show up, not just a portion of it, and fighting through two more of those and whatever army they can muster while the Lich King himself still skulks about somewhere…" Korbinian lifted one shoulder, looking tired and overwhelmed for a moment. "We need more necromancers, but I've no idea if or when they're coming, which leaves us floundering."

A mulish expression fell over Ulli's face. "I can help!"

"You have done quite enough, young man," Korbinian said sharply. "Do you know any of the rules of necromancy? One of the most important?"

"No," Ulli said sulkily.

"Take no power from the living that is not freely given," Korbinian replied, setting his own tea aside and rising to his full height. "We take our power from the dead. Those who steal from the living, even a piece they could no longer use themselves, are considered greedy and power hungry and ill-suited to necromancy. Apprentices have been cast out, bearing marks of shame, for less than what you did in stealing Olaf's arm. Whatever your intentions, what you did was a gross violation. Be grateful the circumstances are extenuating, and Olaf is willing to forgive you, because if it was up to the laws of necromancy alone, you would be banned from ever practicing. So no, you will not help. You don't have the knowledge, and you certainly don't have the discipline."

Ulli glared at him, then threw his tea and ran from the room, bursting into tears somewhere further down the hall.

"You didn't have to be so mean! He didn't want to do it!" Luk said, shoving his own tea onto the table before racing after Ulli.

Korbinian sighed into the silence left in their wake. "I miss my cabin in the Broken Hills."

Olaf chuckled and finished his tea before getting up to cross the room to stand between Korbinian's legs as they promptly spread to accommodate him. "So tell me about what…" he took a deep breath and let it out slowly before forcing himself to continue, "…eating my arm has truly resulted in, the ramifications and such."

"Not much, really," Korbinian said. "If we regard the matter in cold blood, the small shred of power it's given him will be ideal for training, like having a practice sword."

"Why didn't… I mean, I was bitten, right? Shouldn't that have had some effect?"

Korbinian shook his head, taking Olaf's hand and running his thumb over the back of it. "The… venom, let's call it, though it's more complicated than that, has to reach the heart and the brain before it really activates and turns someone into Risen Dead. I removed your arm before that happened, though I think it was a lot closer than either of us ever wants to know. Once that happened, the venom essentially died. There was nothing to give it 'life,' so to speak. Senta further purified the arm, and I packed it away so I could eventually use the bones to build you a new arm." He sighed. "I can make do with a different arm, but your own bones would have worked far better."

"I kept them," said a sniffly voice from the doorway, making them both startle, Korbinian jerk to his feet.

Ulli, face a mess of tears and snot, sniffled again and said, "I didn't want to do it, you know. I hated it. I needed to help though. And— and I still have what's left. I put them here. The magic said I should keep them, so I did." He went over to his threadbare knapsack, nearly always with him to collect all the treasures that young boys found throughout the day. "I couldn't— couldn't clean them up very well because there wasn't time, and there's a lot of little bones in a hand." He frowned at this. "They're all here though." He offered the knapsack over, crying anew.

"Oh, Ulli," Olaf said with a sigh, and scooped him up into a hug, letting the boy cry his heart out on his shoulder. He handed the knapsack off to Korbinian and motioned for Luk to stop hovering in the doorway. "I think we need to try and make for Whitebridge, if only because we've not much food here."

"I'll go ready the horses," Korbinian said. "All this sunlight will work to our favor. Pack up and meet me at the front of the temple." He kissed Olaf's cheek, rested a hand on Ulli's head, then slipped away quietly.

Stifling a sigh, Olaf put his attention to soothing Ulli and getting them ready to go.