Necromancer Awakening Read Online Free Page B

grew cold and his pulse quickened as he turned toward the sound.
    Eight solid-black eyes, darker than night, stared at him from a spherical head as wide as Nicolas was tall, and pincers clicked in front of a mouth dripping with rotting ichor. A bulbous abdomen, covered in course hair resembling the spikes of a porcupine, dwarfed the massive head. And the entire repulsive thing rested atop eight grotesque legs that protruded from the abdomen, ending in sharp points that rested on two boulders.
    His knees buckled, and he fell to the ground, paralyzed with fear. He was going to die.
    A vision of the bodiless skull from his dreams appeared in his mind’s eye.
    The spider crept closer, clicking its slobber-covered pincers together, and reared back on four of its eight legs.
    Nicolas cowered, pushing himself away from the spider with his feet in anticipation of its strike.
    The skull in Nicolas’s mind crackled with energy and pulsed with a blue light. The energy flowing through him reached toward the skull like a plant reaching for sunlight. When it touched the skull, Nicolas felt the power leave him.
    A cloud of dirt formed at the spider’s feet and launched itself up into the creature’s abdomen, forcing it backwards.
    A stream of images entered Nicolas’s mind, passing before his vision like a slide show that was too fast to keep track of—pitched battles between infantry in scale mail. Long swords crashing against tower shields. Soldiers being trampled by mounted cavalry.
    The ground in front of the spider parted, and a skeletal hand clawed its way up from the dirt. A head appeared, face hidden by a dull grey helmet, worn from years of battle and burial. An armor-covered torso followed the helmeted head, then the last hand appeared, holding a great sword the length of Nicolas’s body.
    Another stream of images flowed through his mind.
    In a single moment, Nicolas saw every foe defeated by that sword.
    He struggled against the images, trying to force them out, but bloodlust rose in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to wield that sword…to wield Lugus …in battle one last time.
    I’m losing my mind. What the hell kind of name is Lugus?
    The skeleton leapt from the grave too fast for the spider to react, swinging Lugus as if it were weightless. The skeleton severed two of the spider’s legs with a single strike, and the giant monster screeched.
    The stream of images accelerated, like a movie playing on fast-forward, and this time he saw a giant spider in his mind’s eye, identical to the one confronting him. Recognition sparked in his mind, and a foreign presence guided his thoughts.
    Crag spider. I know your kind. You cannot defeat me.
    He had no idea where the words came from.
    This young, starving spider was no match for his martial skill and years of battlefield experience. He rotated the sword twice in his hand and began the deadly dance of blades.
    No…not me…I’m not the skeleton. I’m Nicolas…Nicolas Murray.
    The skeleton warrior moved with impossible agility, making the spider look clumsy by comparison. The warrior thrust the great sword into the spider’s abdomen, spilling a black, stinking liquid onto the ground. The spider screeched one last time and collapsed.
    The skeleton faced Nicolas and raised a fist, as if announcing victory.
    Thank god it’s over.
    The skeleton roared a fierce battle cry and charged.
    What?
    Nicolas didn’t have the strength to cry out. There was nothing he could do. He knew the warrior as well as he knew himself. Anything he tried would be like a child fighting a tank.
    Out of the corner of his eye, he saw quick motion. A second skeletal warrior charged the first, drawing its attention away from Nicolas. A strange prickling sensation ran over his scalp, like dozens of tiny bolts of electricity.
    An old man in floor-length black robes and sandals was walking toward him.
    “Fool,” the man said in a deep voice. “Take him! What are you waiting for?”
    The first