The Vigiles Urbani Chronicles- Year One

by Ken Lange

  I shrugged. “Where did the guy go?”

  Cole frowned. “You two disappeared for a second then he resurfaced, clasped a hand to his chest, and vanished.”

  Finding the nearest rock, I took a seat before I fell down. “How in the nine hells is that possible?”

  He rolled his shoulders. “If I had to guess, an atman stone, but they’re rare and very hard to come by.” He scanned the horizon and sighed. “In all my years, I’ve never even seen one.”

  Furrowing my brow, I leaned over and rested my elbows on my knees. “What’s that, and why are they so rare?”

  A disgusted expression rolled over him. “Because they’re pure evil. The necromantic ritual used to create them involves murdering someone in order to power the stone. From what I understand, only the most powerful of their kind can use one.”

  “So, to summarize, the guy is uber powerful, and his teleportation devise is run off the spirit of some poor soul unlucky enough to cross his path.”

  He nodded. “About right.”

  Shaking my head, I said, “Well, isn’t that fantastic.” The shadow armor faded as I reached over and picked up the sniper rifle. “By the way, that was one hell of a shot you made back there.”

  He patted his weapon and chuckled. “Thanks, but that wasn’t anything compared to the vanishing act you pulled a few minutes ago.” Running his hand over his head, he sighed. “You never did answer… How did you manage it?”

  I sat up, still trying to catch my breath. “Not a clue. One second I was running, and the next, I was here.”

  He huffed out a laugh. “God, you really are new at this.”

  Cupping my face in my hands, I nodded. “Yeah, I am.”

  He waved a hand up and down me. “So, the whole futuristic black and blue body armor is a mystery as well?”

  With a great deal of effort, I placed my hands on my knees and pushed myself upright. “Blue?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, it was mostly solid black, but the helmet, chest, and back all had blue highlights.”

  “Huh…weird.” I took a deep breath and shook my head. “If you’re looking for a better answer than that, I’m sorry to say that I haven’t got one. Normally when something like that envelops me, it’s the Grim’s doing…but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t involved this time.”

  Cole flinched. “That’s the thing I saw when you punched a hole through the guy’s chest, right?”

  Grimacing, I allowed my gaze to hit the ground. “Yeah.”

  He shivered. “And just what does he have to do with this?”

  I rubbed my forehead and sighed. “Well, he’s like my alter ego…and all my abilities seemed to stem from him. Until now.”

  Leaning over, he patted me on the shoulder. “I’m glad to see you’re branching out.” He paused and brought his gaze up to meet my own. “But, if you think for a second that this new form is any less…startling than the others, I’m sorry to tell you that it’s not.”

  “Gee, thanks.” Wanting to change the subject, I said, “Sorry about earlier.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at me. “For what? Saving my life? Being a general badass or being new?”

  I chuckled and slung the rifle over my shoulder. “The new part… The rest of that sentence was a bit of an overstatement.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Hardly.” Glancing around, he frowned. “But maybe that’s a conversation best had when we’re back at the truck and safely on our way out of here. Last thing I want is for that asshole to show up with his buddies.” He gestured at me. “I’m not sure we’ll get lucky a second time.”

  I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right. What in the hell did you get me into?”

  His expression hardened. “No idea, but you can see why I didn’t want to involve Danielle.”

  “That I can.”

  Almost drowning in the mutant water had drained me, and it took me considerably longer to make my way down the steep slope than it had earlier. It was all I could do to keep up with Cole as he picked through the uneven terrain. Something soft and squishy caught the tip of my boot, and I nearly fell on my face. When I turned around to see what it was, a hand was sticking out.

  With a low whistle, I got Cole’s attention.

  He turned. “What?”

  I pointed back at the fleshy stump. “Maybe we should’ve taken the long way around.”

  Raising an eyebrow, he gave me a weird look. “Huh?”

  I stepped over, kicked away a little more of the dirt, and the thing twitched. “Shit.”

  Cole put a finger to his mouth. “Keep your voice down.”

  Throwing my hands up in a ‘what the fuck’ gesture, I grimaced. “This is a mine full of dead folks, not the goddamn library. Do you really think they’re going to give a shit about the volume of my voice?”

  He glared at me. “Maybe not—then again, maybe the louder you happen to be, the more likely they are to rise up and pull us limb from limb.”

  With a low groan, I glanced around the massive grave. “Christ. So, what, they’re like a clapper?”

  Cole shook his head in disgust. “You can make a clapper joke, but you don’t get one about Golden Corral?”

  I blushed. “Well, they show infomercials about the clapper.”

  He choked back a chuckle. “This is going to be a very long trip back. Now be quiet, and tread carefully.”

  The desire to be back at the truck grew, and there was a tugging sensation in my chest. I stepped forward and grabbed Cole’s shoulder. Blue fire wrapped around us, blotting out everything for a second, and when it faded, we were next to the orange Chevy.

  Cole’s knees buckled, and he fell to the ground, shivering. I knelt beside him and rolled him onto his back. “Are you okay?”

  His teeth clattered together loudly. “Wha…wha…what happened?” He turned his head, and his eyes locked onto the rims of his vehicle. “How’d we get here?”

  I glanced back at the pit and shrugged. “At a guess, we teleported. As for how…that’s a bit more complicated.”

  It took a little doing, but eventually I managed to get him into a sitting position, leaning against the tire.

  Tapping my chest, I said, “There was this tugging sensation, and the desire to be up here grew, so I grabbed you. And here we are.”

  His head listed toward the pit. “I’m not sure which is worse, being down there surrounded by chindi, or having you save me with your blue ball of death.”

  I did my best not to laugh. “That somehow sounds way dirtier than intended.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “Oh, that you find funny… But I’m serious, that was one of the most awful things I’ve ever experienced.” His tone curious, he asked, “What do you feel when it happens?”

  I rocked back on my heels and found a comfortable place to sit. “Nothing really. Everything goes blue, and, poof, I’m where I wanted to be.”

  He waved at himself and took a deep breath. “Well, for me, it took my breath away, and I had the distinct feeling of being turned into a Cole-sicle.” His hands shook as he held them out and inspected them. “Thank God…there doesn’t appear to be any frostbite.”

  I frowned. “It’s that bad?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe if I’d had a little warning, it wouldn’t have been.” Clenching his hand into a fist and releasing it, he smiled. “Apparently the effects wear off pretty quickly, so that’s nice.”

  Embarrassed, I bit my lower lip. “That’s great, and I’m sorry about the…discomfort?”

  Cole chuckled. “At this point, I’m almost sure I’ll get over it.” He pointed to the mass grave. “What are we going to do about them?”

  I got to my feet and shook my head. “No idea. The Grim can’t do anything to them.”

  He forced himself upright and glanced over at me. “What’s that mean?”

  Frowning, I sighed. “The chindi don’t have souls, and without a soul, it appears the big bad Grim is all bark and no bite.” He still looked puzzled. “In short, I do
n’t have the ability to hurt them.”

  Cole scowled. “But the other night you burned them all to ash.”

  Yeah, that had been bound to come back and bite me in the ass. “That’s true, but I haven’t a clue why, or even how, that happened.” My shoulders slumped forward as I moved to the edge of the pit. “Believe me, if I did, I’d happily do it again.”

  He mumbled a few things I couldn’t make out before sighing. “Well, that’s going to make this very tough on us.”

  I stepped back and cocked my head to the side. “Care to be a bit more specific? Because I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

  Cole closed his eyes as he let out a soft laugh. “We have to make sure they’re incapacitated… Which means removing their heads. One at a time, from the sound of things.” He gestured at the truck. “I hope that sword of yours is sharp.”

  I groaned. “Seriously? We can’t just set fire to the place?”

  He shook his head. “We’d have to uncover them all to make sure they were incinerated.” Rubbing his chin, he grimaced. “Or…”

  I pointed at him. “I’m liking this plan better.”

  He frowned. “You haven’t heard it yet.”

  I gestured for him to continue. “Go on then.”

  His tone hardened. “We could go get Atsidi, and have him ask the tribal elders for help. They might know how to deal with a mass grave better than I do.”

  I gave him a thumbs-up. “Yep, I still like that idea. Go see if someone will give us a hand, and I’ll keep watch.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You really want to stand here alone—possibly all night—while I go look for help?”

  I shrugged. “Well—”

  Cole cut me off. “That’s about the dumbest thing I’ve heard anyone say. We know there’s at least one powerful necromancer around, and if Atsidi’s right, he’s got friends. The last guy you dealt with nearly drowned you by himself. Do you really think you could handle them all on your own?”

  When people start arguing with logic, it gives me a headache. “Ah…well…”

  He shook his head. “Let me spell it out for you since you seem to be a little slow on the uptake. If you stay, they’ll kill you, and that wouldn’t be good for any of us.”

  I gestured at the pit. “But there’s a good chance the jerks will be back for their toys.”

  He nodded. “And if they are, they’ll leave a trail a mile wide, and we’ll be able to track them.”

  Shaking my head, I said, “I don’t like the idea of leaving them here alone.”

  Cole shrugged. “Then it’s cutting off heads one at a time.”

  It took forever for us to knock back enough dirt to pull one of them free and promptly remove its head. By the time the sun went down, we’d managed about fifteen executions. And given the pit’s size, we wouldn’t finish this in our lifetimes. We needed shovels, or perhaps a dozen backhoes, and several times that in manpower to do this properly.

  I hung my head in defeat. “Fine, how about we fall back to your other plan?”

  He snickered. “The one involving getting some help?”

  I sighed. “Yeah, that one.”

  He stood up straight and grinned. “You ready to risk them coming back for these deadheads?”

  “I am.” Gesturing back at the wide expanse, I said, “It’s clear we’ll never be able to finish this, and who’s to say they won’t come back while we’re in the middle of the job and too tired to fight back?”

  Cole grimaced. “Agreed.”

  We climbed up the side of the pit to the truck and made the forty-five-minute drive to Atsidi’s place. Given the hour, I doubted we’d make it back before morning. If I had to guess, there was a fifty-fifty shot the necromancers would move the horde before then. But digging them out by hand, cutting off their heads, and repeating wasn’t making a dent in the problem.

  Chapter 11

  February 25th

  It was nearly midnight by the time we’d told Atsidi the full story. He was reluctant to face a single necromancer, let alone one with friends at the height of their power. And when the untold number of undead at their disposal came into the mix, he flat out refused to go anywhere until morning.

  I couldn’t blame the guy. I mean, he did have a point. Necromancers were more powerful at night, or so the stories said. Not only that, we were hampered by darkness and a lack of intel. Even I wasn’t hardheaded enough to go into such a situation totally blind, outnumbered and probably outgunned. While I’d spent most of my life fighting the odds, I’d always had a chance of survival—tonight didn’t afford me such an opportunity.

  Between that, and my inability to control my powers—such as the blue-flamed teleporter—sleep evaded me. In my boredom, I tried to figure out how it worked. That turned out about as well as you might think…I got nowhere fast. It appeared the only things that triggered it were imminent death or the desire to kill someone.

  I made about as much progress figuring out how the shadow armor worked. The ability to teleport or create armor on demand would prove useful…if I could ever figure out how to summon them. With every failure my frustration grew, as did my list of questions. Did the teleporter have a specific range? Where could I go, and how could I bring someone with me without damn near killing them in the process?

  The only good thing about being up all night was that I was the first one in the shower, which meant it was piping hot. I’d only just gotten dressed and made my way into the kitchen when Cole stumbled through to the bath. By the time he was dressed, I had breakfast ready.

  There was a knock at the door as I was finishing the dishes.

  Cole turned and yelled, “Come in.”

  Atsidi pulled open the door, carrying several thick silver spikes about two and a half feet long.

  Setting them on the counter, he said, “Morning.”

  I pointed at the metal stakes. “What are those?”

  He frowned. “If theory holds, they’ll sever the necromancers’ hold on the corpses.”

  The silver was intricately carved with numerous conflicting inscriptions, and according to Kur, they shouldn’t have been able to coexist on the same object. But since they were sitting right there in front of me, he was obviously wrong.

  I picked up one. “How were you able to do this? From my understanding, more than a few of these engravings conflict on an energetic level with others.”

  Atsidi sighed. “The man who taught me how to use my elemental abilities was exceptionally knowledgeable about necromancy.”

  I gave him a questioning look. “Seriously? I’ve done a ton of research in the last nine months, and I haven’t been able to find out anything that wasn’t purely hypothetical.” A small chuckle escaped my lips. “It probably isn’t a surprise to anyone here that Lazarus is obsessed with them, and even he hasn’t got a clue who they are, how they’re created…or much of anything else, for that matter. The only thing he’s certain about is that they’re evil, and they need to be eradicated from the face of the planet.”

  His shoulders slumped as he fell into a nearby seat. “I don’t think he’s wrong, for the most part. But Nakai Tsosi was a good man. Or at least, he was when I met him.”

  Cole’s expression faltered. “The old smith was the one who taught you?”

  He rubbed his chin. “Yeah.”

  I glanced between them and frowned. “Please remember there’s a newbie in the room. Would one of you mind filling me in?”

  Cole leaned back in his seat and let out a long breath. “Nakai Tsosi is famous around here for how he died. Well, more accurately, how he was murdered. Someone tortured the man, and when they got tired, they lowered his body into a vat of molten copper.”

  Atsidi winced. “I was the one who found him.” His voice cracked as emotion overtook him. “He took me in as an apprentice, and taught me how to control my powers. He was kind to me when no one else could be bothered. It was through him that I learned about the Archive, and their laws.” He wiped a
way a tear. “One day when I arrived, there was a dark-haired woman sitting in the corner of the forge. She never spoke, but the way she watched us made me afraid. There was something about her that completely unnerved me. Once the lesson was complete, Nakai informed me that it was my last one. He gave me several books and told me not to come back…ever. He walked me out then closed the door behind me, and I heard the bolt slide closed, locking them in.”

  While reading through the books he’d been given, Atsidi found a drawing of the woman with the name Inna below it. According to Nakai’s notes, she belonged to something called the Black Circle. These journals detailed the history of necromancy, and explained at length how the artform was passed from master to student—which involved some sort of bonding ritual where blood was exchanged.

  In the historic portion, it went into what the Black Circle called the great war…and I couldn’t get past how much it sounded like the dream I’d had shortly after becoming vigil. The tomes spoke of the battle between the Children of the First, Life, and Death. The representative of the latter, Ankou, created nine lich lords, and it was through their blood that necromancy was passed from one person to another—almost like an infection. As for their symbol, the solid black circle represented the infinity of death.

  Their form of climbing the ranks was…interesting. Each initiate was made more powerful with subsequent blood rituals, until they were finally initiated into something called the Onyx Mind. These were the elite of their kind and, until a thousand years ago, had been led by Inna and Nakai. Their main goals were to keep order amongst the others, and protect the lich lords at all costs. The abominable rituals involved corrupted certain schools of magic. It was these polluted practices that allowed the conflicting magical scripts to work, thus creating things like the silver stakes Atsidi had brought with him.

  That was some of the most godawful information I’d ever heard. The necromancer problem wasn’t just some random issue, with one cropping up every now and again. Nope, these assholes were organized, and had been around several millennia longer than the Archive.