Tales from the New Earth: Volume Two

by J. J. Thompson

  “And then what would happen?”

  “They were curses, my dear wizard. Each had its own 'special twist', she used to say. One would cause a victim to be asphyxiated. Another would ignite a conflagration and burn them alive. She was endlessly imaginative, I assure you.”

  “Oh my God. Whatever happened to her?”

  Aeris' smile wasn't pleasant.

  “She accepted the wrong contract. Arrogance, I suppose. She'd become so good at killing that she thought she was invincible. She was mistaken.”

  “So what happened?”

  “She attempted to assassinate a master wizard. She herself was never much more than an apprentice, except for her skill with runes. She had no idea what sort of protections a truly skilled wizard can surround himself with. So when I left a rune in his bedroom and she activated it, the spell rebounded on her. I watched as she died, screaming. It was actually rather satisfying.”

  Simon shifted uneasily in his chair. He plucked the pebble off of the arm and held it up on his flat palm.

  “Are you saying that this rune is cursed?”

  Aeris frowned at him.

  “Of course not. It's a communication rune. A rather limited one. More of a toy than a true piece of wizardry. It allows the creator to speak to whomever possesses it but only at short range; I would say a few miles at most.”

  Both Simon and Kronk stared at him silently.

  “What? Why are you both looking at me like that?”

  “You just told us a story about a psychopathic killer wizard who assassinated others using runes,” Kronk said in a strained voice. “Why would you do that when this rune is a simple communication device?”

  Aeris seemed surprised by their reactions.

  “Because you asked where I had seen that particular rune before. The wizard that I mentioned worked her way up from creating spells like the one attached to that pebble to the killing runes I told you about. Sorry. Did you think that I was going to say it was dangerous? It isn't. Honest.”

  Simon slumped back in his chair and let out a long, slow breath, slipping the pebble into a pocket.

  “Good to know,” he mumbled.

  “But I will say this, my dear wizard. If this child, Sarah, is still alive and learning her craft, she may very well be quite a powerful rune-scribe by now. And that would make her potentially very dangerous indeed.”

  “Yes, I can see that. But after what you and I saw earlier, I think the likelihood of her survival is doubtful at best.”

  Aeris nodded solemnly.

  “Master, what was it? What did you see?”

  The fire crackled and hissed to itself as Simon considered his answer.

  “Wouldn't it be easier just to show him?” Aeris asked.

  “Yeah, maybe. Could you get the mirror for me?”

  “Certainly. Be right back.”

  The air elemental shot across the room and up the stairs and Simon took the opportunity to get up and walk to the sink. He set his glass down and filled the kettle.

  “That's enough wine,” he said over his shoulder to Kronk. “I don't like hangovers any better in this body than I did in my old one. Tea would be a better choice.”

  “I agree, master,” the earthen said, smiling.

  Simon hung the kettle over the fire, slipped on his thin shoes and headed for the door, summoning a mage light as he went.

  “Tell Aeris I'll be right back; that wine's gone right through me.”

  “Of course, master. I'll get your tea ready.”

  “Thanks. Won't be long.”

  The wizard slipped out of the front door with the light bobbing along over his head and Kronk jumped from the chair to the floor and then up on to the counter.

  He was carefully spooning dried tea into a cup when Aeris came back downstairs again.

  “Where's he gone?” he asked as he crossed the room holding the hand mirror.

  “Outhouse,” Kronk replied absently. He was concentrating on the task at hand.

  “Ah, of course. The wine. Have you ever wondered what it would be like to eat and drink and have to, you know, use the facilities?”

  Kronk put down the tea box and thought about it for a moment.

  “Not really, no. It always seemed so...convoluted. We absorb energy directly from our environment. I think it is much more efficient, don't you?”

  Aeris flew over to the chair and laid the mirror on one of the arms.

  “Oh, I agree. But apparently it can quite pleasurable trying new foods and beverages.”

  “I suppose so.”

  Kronk glanced at the boiling kettle.

  “Could you bring that over for me? I'm making master some tea.”

  “Oh, he's off the wine? Good.”

  Together they made the cup of tea and when Simon came back in from the outhouse, it was sitting on the little table next to his chair, steam rising invitingly.

  “Thanks guys. I appreciate that.”

  He washed his hands and then sat down, put the mirror in his lap and picked up the cup.

  “Ah, much better,” he told them after a few sips.

  He picked up the mirror again and concentrated on it.

  “Magic Mirror,” he said quietly and the surface fogged over.

  “What are we going to be looking at, master?” Kronk asked.

  He had moved to the arm of the chair and was leaning forward, watching the mirror intently.

  “I told you earlier that I decided to zip over to Aylmer Island while I was walking along the river.”

  “Yes and that was a bit risky,” Aeris replied tartly.

  “Oh, it was not. Don't exaggerate. Anyway, I noticed that the outline of the Peace Tower looked different from how I remembered it. So while you were searching for Sarah's pebble, Aeris and I took a peek in the mirror.”

  “And saw what, master?”

  The shining surface began to clear and Kronk made a surprised sound deep in his throat as he saw what Simon had seen several hours before.

  “That,” the wizard said.

  Chapter 17

  The evening had fallen over the site of the Parliament Buildings but in the mirror it was lit well enough to see. From the mirror's perspective, they were looking at it from several hundred feet above the ground; a literal bird's-eye view.

  To the south of the ruined buildings, directly below the Peace Tower, was a large hole where the front lawn had been once upon a time. It was perhaps fifty feet across, its interior lost in darkness. And around the hole, torches were blazing every few yards, whipping violently in the wind.

  “It is a hole, master,” Kronk said blankly.

  “Yes, my friend. A hole. A hole that was not there four years ago.”

  “But why does it worry you, master? It is big, I suppose, but any creature could have dug it. Couldn't they? Perhaps it is a sinkhole caused by erosion underground.”

  Aeris flew up and around to Simon's left shoulder.

  “Show him, my dear wizard,” he murmured.

  “Show me what?”

  Simon tilted the mirror forward and the view zoomed down toward the ground at great speed.

  “Look at the edges of the hole,” Aeris said to Kronk.

  “They appear to be...writhing? Moving? What is that?”

  “Watch and see.”

  A few seconds later the view became clear and defined and Kronk pulled back from the mirror in disgust.

  He was looking at masses of humanoid forms. Shambling, screeching, eyes blazing with purple fire.

  “Undead, master. Hundreds of undead.”

  “Thousands, Kronk,” Simon said. “Thousands.”

  Kronk seemed confused as he looked in the mirror again. He frowned but remained silent.

  “What is it?” Aeris asked. “You seem puzzled.”

  “I am. How did you see these abominations earlier? Undead cannot exist in direct sunlight. The pure light of the heavens destroys them utterly.”

  Simon nodded and adjusted the axis of the mirro
r. The view retreated upward again and then moved to the left.

  “Remember the oddness of the Peace Tower I mentioned?”

  “Of course, master.”

  “Look now. This is how those monsters were able to be above ground during the day.”

  The tower had been smashed by the dragon's attack on the Night of Burning, leaving only jagged walls that were a third of the height of the original ones. But now, crude wooden extensions had been attached to those walls and rose up to a flat surface. On that new roof stood a brazier that burned brightly in the evening breeze and placed next to it was a metal stand. The stand, made of twisted, rusty steel rods, held a glass globe that dripped with lurid purple flames.

  “What is that?” Kronk asked in wonder.

  His question went unanswered because all three observers changed their focus to the figure standing behind the globe.

  Black, crusty robes swirling in the wind, the man, if man it was, had his arms raised and his head thrown back. He was chanting in some strange language with his eyes closed. His lips were pulled back in a rictus of apparent ecstasy and he waved a twisted staff as he chanted. It was a very disturbing scene.

  “What is he?” Kronk asked, bewildered. “He is using a staff, so he can't be a mage.”

  “Do you remember when the lich, Madam, attacked the old town of Nottinghill?”

  “Yes, master. She was a horrible creature. I remember that time very well indeed.”

  Simon nodded, watching the man in the mirror.

  “Well, back then Aeris was worried that she wasn't the original source of the evil creatures that attacked the town. He told me that she might have been created by a...”

  “Necromancer!”

  The earthen answered the question himself and then stared at Aeris in horror.

  “Him?” He pointed at the mirror. “You think that he is the necromancer?”

  “There is no doubt of it,” Aeris answered grimly. “You can't see it now but earlier today we saw a dome of force covering that hole, filtering out the sunlight and allowing the caster to continue his incantations.”

  Kronk hunched forward and looked in the mirror with a scowl.

  “But what is he doing?”

  Simon adjusted the mirror again and the view zoomed back to the hole. The three of them watched silently for a moment and then Kronk made a sound of revulsion.

  An arm groped out of the hole, catching hold of the churned up ground at the edge of the abyss. The appendage was gleaming with bone barely covered with ragged pale skin. A skeleton wearing a few scraps of rotten clothing pulled itself out of the hole, empty eye sockets flickering with purple light.

  “He's raising the dead,” Aeris said. “Swelling his ranks. The hole must extend deep underground and branch off in all directions. He is calling up the dead that have been buried around the countryside.”

  “Oh, this is bad, master. This is very bad.”

  “You don't say?” Aeris said sarcastically.

  “Hush,” Simon told him. “You're right, Kronk. It is very bad. There's no way to tell how many undead that necromancer has gathered or how long he's been doing it, but it's a safe bet that there are no living Changlings left in Ottawa.”

  He reached into his pocket, pulled out the pebble and held it tightly for a moment.

  Goodbye Sarah, he thought sadly. I guess Madam was telling the truth when she said that she had killed you and raised you as a walking corpse.

  “At least that bitch is destroyed,” he muttered savagely, reliving the moment when the lich had been immolated by the rising sun.

  “Master?”

  “Nothing. Okay, now the big question is; what do we do about,” he trained the mirror's focus on to the necromancer, “him?”

  “A very good question. Necromancers are fallen wizards. That is why he is wielding a staff. His powers rival your own, at the very least. We saw his shield today. It takes a very strong spell to block out sunlight. That is a powerful man.”

  Aeris looked at the chanting figure and then stared up at Simon.

  “A necromancer gets his powers from the dark gods. They alter the body to make it easier for the caster to absorb magic, which means that they can cast faster and their powers recharge more quickly.”

  “Lovely. More good news. Well, right now my immediate concern is all of those undead. Why is that guy raising so many? What is his end game? Just what the hell is he doing?”

  They watched the scene again for a few minutes and then Simon canceled the spell and set down the mirror. He sat back, picked up his cup and finished his tea.

  “Why here?” he asked eventually.

  “What?”

  “I said, why here?” Simon repeated, looking at Aeris. “What's so special about Ottawa? I mean, since the world went all to Hell, this entire area has become isolated. The people from old Nottinghill are in England now, so if that necromancer wants to kill humans, he's out of luck. Why not set up in Beijing or Mexico City? There have got to be some survivors around those ruined cities.”

  “Hmm, good point. Why haven't we checked on those places for Changlings?”

  Simon rubbed his eyes.

  “It's a big world, Aeris. Even your fellow air elementals that I sent out to scout couldn't cover every square mile of it. It will be years, maybe decades, before we locate all of the remaining pockets of humanity. If we survive, of course.”

  “Master? Perhaps this city of yours isn't really special.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning that we do not know that the evil spell-caster in Ottawa is alone. What if there are many just like him in strategic locations around the world? You've destroyed the dark gods' primal dragons; perhaps this is their next plan to exterminate your race? They must use what was available in ancient times. They cannot create something new. And one of their conduits into this world were the necromancers.”

  Both Simon and Aeris stared at the earthen with wide eyes. Kronk looked back at them and shrugged meekly.

  “It was just a thought,” he said in a subdued voice.

  “Kronk, I think you are a genius,” Aeris told him in a strained voice. “By the way, write that down; I may never use that phrase again.”

  Simon laughed in spite of himself but he nodded in agreement.

  “You may have hit the nail on the head, my friend. Damn, that never occurred to me. I am so myopic. I was thinking locally when I should have be thinking globally.”

  He jumped to his feet, grabbed the mirror and raced across the room.

  “Where are you going?” Aeris called after him.

  “To get my atlas,” the wizard shouted back as he ran up the stairs.

  Several hours later, Simon sat at his desk in his study and ticked off another name listed on a large piece of paper. He stared red-eyed at it and then sagged limply into his chair with an exhausted sigh.

  The candles on the desk had burned down to nubs and he wearily waved a hand and summoned a mage light.

  “Well, that's it then,” he told the elementals who were standing side-by-side next to the open atlas. “Kronk was right.”

  Simon had decided to use the coordinates in his atlas to spy out the major cities on each continent. London, Paris, Beijing, New York, Mexico City, the list extended to twenty cities. There were more that he wanted to check on but he was simply too exhausted and his power was almost drained. He'd barely been strong enough to summon a light.

  Every city was infested with undead. Every single one.

  “We are so screwed,” he said with a groan.

  He closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of his chair.

  “It's rare that I agree with such a sweeping statement, but in this case you may be right,” Aeris said.

  He closed the atlas and looked at Kronk.

  “When exactly did you become so clever?”

  “There is nothing clever about it,” the earthen said as he watched Simon worriedly. “It just made sense. Ottawa is fairly central
to this part of the country, so that is why the dark gods have chosen it as one of the sites for their necromancers. The other cities are similarly placed. Plus a larger city would have more available graves. The evil magic-users must still have bodies to imbue with dark magic, after all.”

  “Makes sense indeed,” Simon agreed, eyes still closed. “I'm also guessing, not to sound too full of myself or anything, that having my home base located so close to the city would be icing on the cake for the lords of Chaos. When that necromancer decides to move, I'm guessing that this tower will be his first target.”

  “Now there's a cheerful thought,” Aeris said dryly. “However, before that happens, if it happens, might I suggest that you get some sleep to build up your power again? And in the morning, you might want to call for help.”

  “Help?”

  Simon opened his eyes and leaned forward, staring blearily at the air elemental.

  “Help from whom?”

  “One or more of my people. You need someone to keep an eye on that horde of undead in the city, just in case. Who better than a trained scout?”

  The wizard yawned and clapped a hand over his mouth.

  “Sorry. Yeah, that is a good idea. As long as they stay a reasonable distance away, so they won't be detected by that necromancer, we'll at least get an early warning when the undead start to move.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Okay. Thanks for your help, guys.”

  Simon stood up slowly and grunted. His butt was asleep. It obviously had more sense than he did.

  “See you both in the morning.”

  “Sleep well, master.”

  Rolling out of bed the next morning was a struggle. Simon was so comfortable, curled into a warm ball with his blanket and sheets wrapped around him, that the only thing that eventually forced him out on to the cold floor was his pushy bladder.

  He dressed quickly, eyes barely open, and stumbled downstairs.

  “Good morning, my dear wizard. Would you like...”

  Simon waved vaguely, fumbled with the front door and staggered outside.

  “Was it something I said?” Aeris said as he floated across from the kitchen counter to the fireplace with the full kettle.

  Kronk was arranging logs on the embers.