“By a goblin?” And then he died.

Jig stepped on the fairy’s chest and pulled his sword free. He wondered briefly if fairy would taste as good as elf, but decided he wasn’t hungry enough to find out. Not when the fairy had also been a Necromancer. Who knew what potions and preservatives might be mixed in with that flesh? Besides, the fairy was a little thing, scrawny as well as short. Hardly any meat at all.

Jig turned to face the others. The Necromancer was dead. That left only two dozen dead warriors and a possessed wizard.

Jig grinned like a madman and waved his sword. “Who’s first?”

CHAPTER 11 - Between Death and a Dark Pit

CHAPTER 11

Between Death and a Dark Pit

Two dozen dead faces stared at him. Riana’s mouth hung open in shock, and Barius looked every which way as he tried to comprehend what had happened. Ryslind’s red eyes swept over the Necromancer’s body, then locked onto Jig. He did not look happy.

Jig could think of only one thing to do. He prayed. That worked great! Thank you so much. What next?

The answer, when it came, sounded a bit put out. I don’t know. I didn’t expect you to live through it.

Oh. Some of Jig’s elation drained off at that. Some, but not all. What had Shadowstar said? Quit whining and do something for yourself for once. And he had. He had slain the Necromancer. A deed worthy of song! A song about him, Jig the goblin. Sure, the Necromancer looked harmless now, a dead fairy bleeding a puddle onto the floor. But that fairy had been the Necromancer, a two-foot-tall master of death with hideous blue hair.

The point was, Jig had done it. He had been stronger than the Necromancer’s magic. His sword had ended the Necromancer’s life. He had done it, not Barius or Darnak. It was all he could do not to giggle. He spun to face Ryslind. The dead creatures hadn’t moved, which made Ryslind the next threat to be faced.

The wizard smiled, and the ground beneath Jig fell away. No, he was floating! Even as he watched, the room start to spin, his ankle throbbed, and he fell onto his backside. He stood back up with a grimace, rubbing his bruised posterior. So much for the dramatic hero.

“What have you done?” Ryslind demanded. He tried another spell, but nothing happened. “Where did you find this protection?”

Protection? Jig remembered the pain that had come as each of the Necromancer’s spells failed. He looked down at his ankle. Inside his boot he saw the bracelet he had taken from the skeleton in the hallway. That bracelet must protect him from magic. That was why the Necromancer hadn’t been able to stop him.