“As part of my enchanter skills, I can enchant certain objects; anything inanimate, although some things are easier than others,” Elrias started, giving the thieves a lecture in the basics of his craft.
“One of my imbunement powers is magic emission. It’s quite simple, really: the object emits a flare of magic. A competent mage can detect it from leagues away, when certain criteria are met.
“The ring I gave you is one such example.”
Jal sat thoughtfully. Nateldorth was impressed by his maturity – at that age, he was playing pranks on his teachers.
“Is there any possibility the others could pick up on the nature of the object?”
“If they touch it, yes. But I can cloak its magical signature so that only the most skilled could sense it.”
“And how reliable is this?”
“They would have to be more skilled than me. I am one of the most skilled enchanters in Arachadia – I doubt anyone other than Nateldorth here would detect it.”
“Very well then, I shall do what you say. When do we start?”
Nateldorth fished in.
“We should start the day after tomorrow; we still have to convince our dear friend Ateris to join in our plan.”
“And how do you plan on doing that? The man’s mad,” Laura asked, somewhat tersely.
“Relax, child. We mages have lived a long time – we have our ways.”
She pouted at that, but couldn’t formulate a reply. Probably just afraid for her friend.
“Then it is arranged. Nateldorth will convince Ateris, and you will infiltrate the organisation.”
“Master will not like this,” Greg proclaimed.
“Tell me about it…” Laura muttered.
The stakes had gone up.
TWENTY
Linaera awoke.
Feeling gradually returned to her body: first, her hands and feet. Then, her thighs, arms and finally her head.
She wished it wouldn’t have.
Her head felt like someone had just hammered a spike in it and then rubbed it around for good measure. Her body felt tired, and filled with cramps. When she tried to sit up, she felt a whirl of dizziness overtake her. Linaera didn’t care: she was just glad she was alive.
She realised her hands and feet were bound with some sort of coarse rope. She could still see, though: when she looked around, she saw she was in what appeared to be some kind of waggon.
The walls were made of some sort of woven wood, like the chairs she imagined a grandma would sit on. She was on a mildly uncomfortable bed; a light brown mattress was slung over her. She was surprisingly warm though: either the blanket was thicker than she thought, or else it had suddenly gotten warm.
When she opened the wooden shutters of the waggon, the sight outside immediately dispelled such notions. The world was a dazzling mixture of silver and gold, the effect of the sun shining on snow.
The mountains that were previously invisible were now displayed in all their mighty glory. Their granite heads towered over Linaera; despite this, she could feel they were on an incline.
“Oh good! You’ve awakened.”
Linaera turned to see a dark cloaked figure on horseback slow down beside her. It appeared to be the female necromancer from last time. She now had her hood pulled down to reveal her jet-black hair, dark eyes and a ruby-red mouth. Her features were porcelain-like and her build was petite, like that of a Queen.
Linaera tried not to hate her. They must have had a good reason, right? But then, John’s anguished face as he died annihilated all sense of good will.
“Have you come to gloat over your prize?”
“Oh my! You got off to a bad start, now didn’t you? Well, I suppose we did kill your friend and tie you up. We can’t help it – you’re all so weak.”
“You never knew anything about him!”
But the necromancer had already gone.
Linaera simmered with fury, but soon the inappropriately beautiful landscape calmed her nerves a little. Besides, if she was going get out of this alive, she might as well make friends with her captors.
“Okay, okay. Come on now,” she called. For a few moments, nothing happened. Then, the necromancer-girl came back.
“Had your tantrum now? Can we talk?”
“Very well. What about the other guy though – you know, the one who knocked me out?”
The necromancer simply laughed, a rich, amused sound.
“Oh my, you are a funny one. In answer to your question, however: Neshvetal will not see you yet. He’s put me up to making you ‘presentable’ first.”
“Neshvetal? Is that his name?”
“Yes.”
Linaera thought about that. Such a strange name for a person; she wondered if that was really what he was called.
“Aren’t you going to ask for my name?” the necromancer asked, petulant.
Linaera blushed with embarrassment, despite the circumstances.
“It’s Leira, by the way.”
“Well hello, Leira. I’m Linaera.”
“Hello, Linaera. Got any more questions in you?”
“Yeah. This is going to sound kinda rude, but – why don’t you just kill me? It’s not like I can give you anything.”
Leira looked thoughtful.
“Neshvetal is intrigued by your capabilities. I’m fascinated by you myself – there’s something quite unusual in the fact that you’re not threatening to cut my throat after only half an hour.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate the your compliments,” Linaera said, sarcasm dripping from her tongue.
Leira laughed yet again.
“Yes, you’re definitely interesting. I wonder what you’ll think of our company.”
“Company?” Linaera asked, confused. She swivelled her head, and saw something horrific.
Around them, horrendous monsters leered. Their mouths gaped open in hunger. There were various different types of them: some looked like they had once been human – yet their skin was marble white, and their movements somehow disturbing.
The others, they were no longer human. They were instead skeletons, covered in plates of bone and wielding vicious, black axes.
Finally, there were the monsters Linaera had seen earlier: taller than any man, with hard, white skin and elongated wings. Sharp claws decorated their limbs.
What was most shocking of all though, were the eyes. The Revenants’ eyes were completely devoid of any intelligence; instead, they possessed an inhuman hunger for living flesh. The other monsters had eyes that gleamed with intelligence, but that only made the same hunger even more terrifying.
Linaera blanched before twisting away.
“How do you stand them?”
“You get used to them after a while. We are necromancers after all.”
Linaera brooded at her comment.
“I will never be your friend.”
The other woman looked saddened.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t say that. Ah well,” she sighed, “We can only hope for so much.”
“Do you know anything about him? Neshvetal, I mean?” Linaera asked.
Leira did not look surprised by the abrupt change of subject.
“He is mysterious even to me. From what I can gather, he’s being reclusive after a friend of his was murdered by the ‘mad corrupt mages’, as he calls them. He refuses to tell me anything about this person, but I think she was a woman – someone he once loved, perhaps.”
Linaera pondered the new aspect about her captor. It would be useful to know – she might be able to use it against him. Somehow, she had to convince them to free her of these ropes, and get an opportunity to escape. She doubted she could take them on magically after what she had just seen, especially with all those things surrounding her.
Leira seemed to sense her discomfort, because she said:
“Don’t worry. We’ll let you of those ropes as soon as we get there. Precautionary measures, you understand.”
Linaera wondered at what
she meant. Were they being kind? Her fantasies were of burning down their home, and them in it: kindness could not bring John back.
“Anyway… this place. Where is it?”
“It’s north, not far from here. We should be there by night-time. I’m sure you’d love it.”
Linaera very much doubted that.
“How far are we from the End of Worlds?” she asked, hoping to provoke some chit-chat while she pondered her fate.
“The End of the Worlds? You don’t really believe that nonsense, do you?”
“I am told by the mages the world is round. Still, I have not been there myself, so I couldn’t say.”
“Oh very well. Neshvetal says we are about a weeks travel from it. He says that he has flown around; all he can see are increasingly taller mountains and this white mist obscuring everything.”
“Fly?” Linaera asked, confused.
“My master is capable of flight – only for short periods, you understand – and I hope to join him one day.”
Linaera added that gimmick of information to her growing list. Great. This just keeps getting better and better, she thought bitterly.
There was one good thing: she wasn’t cold. With her mind, she tentatively probed the space around the waggon – definitely a warming spell.
Her magic felt rusty and weak; she was tired after doing only a simple spell. I must have exhausted myself, she realised.
“Practising your magic?”
“You’re a sensitive one. I suppose that is to be expected, considering you’re the apprentice to a crazed megalomaniac,” Linaera responded.
Leira gave her a concerned look.
“Irony doesn’t sit well with you, Linaera. Maybe you should stick to sarcasm.” With that, she spurred her horse – a black stallion – ahead of the waggon.
She was gone before Linaera could formulate a response.
Time passed; gradually, the sky outside began to darken. Linaera began to wonder of her life – Sasha, Mark, John…
No, don’t think about him! she told herself. You can’t handle it right now.
Instead, she decided to think about more practical matters. Like: who was driving the waggon? She hadn’t heard a single horse snort.
With a shudder, she realised she best not think about that.
Undead aside, there were other matters to be considered: like, would they feed her? Did they even need to eat? She sighed.
Outside, the sky had gone on to the dark ambience of dusk. For some reason, Linaera had always felt strange around dusk; it was as if her body was telling her something was going to change. She even went as far as to avoid doing anything important at dusk, so great was her superstition.
It was fitting then, when Leira took that time to open the waggon door.
She smiled at her.
“Ready to take off these ropes? Promise me you won’t do anything stupid!”
“What can I do? I’m surrounded by two powerful necromancers and a host of undead.”
“Good. Now, I’ll take a knife and cut them off.” She felt around her robe – black as a starless night, Linaera noted. She then took out a dagger. It had a plain, black hilt, but was adorned by eerie golden runes at the base.
The dagger was also long, curved and exquisitely sharp. Linaera stifled a gulp.
Leira laughed.
“Don’t worry – if I was going to kill you, I would have done so a long time ago.”
“What I don’t understand is: why do you need the dagger? Can’t you just burn through the ropes with magic?”
“Why didn’t you do that?”
“Well, as you’ve already noticed, I’m magically exhausted. Secondly, what good will it have done me? Besides put me in more danger?” Linaera asked, more annoyed with the fact that Leira seemed amused by any attempt at escape.
“Well, had you tried to burn through them, you would have noticed your magic would seem to bend around it. It’s a clever trick Neshvetal invented to protect objects; only the best can combat it.” With that, she swished the dagger over the ropes, and they fell away.
Linaera shook her hands, glad to be rid of them. Had she worn them any longer, she would have had red wilts all across her wrists. Instead, she got off with a few light marks.
She went through the door, and swayed slightly. I guess I’m still tired.
Leira put a hand out to steady her.
Linaera was surprised by the her strength; she looked frail as a bird.
Idiot. Hasn’t years at the Centre not taught you people are not what they seem?
“Err… thanks for the help.”
“No problem. I wouldn’t want my precious little mage to fall over now would I?” Leira asked, gaining the tone of a schoolgirl mimicking the local nerd.
“Oh my, Leira. I don’t know from wherever you picked that up, but I’d stick to sarcasm,” Linaera retorted.
Even Leira couldn’t reply to that.
Steadying herself, Linaera realised she was only wearing her grey woollen socks. The snow felt freezing under her feet. Actually, her whole body felt like it was on icicles – she guessed the warming spell had gone off.
“Here are your boots and coat,” Leira said, handing her the woollen rain-coat and dark black, knee-length boots.
Linaera put them on gratefully.
“We’d better find you some new clothes. The temperature will be dropping rapidly, and those clothes are way too thin. What did that idiot think – that clothes designed for the drab grey weather of Northern Arachadia would be enough for the Northern Mountains?”
“Don’t talk about Perrien.”
“Ah yes, the traitor. The weak always betray the strong – though they at least, are not as weak as the people who stay and do nothing.”
“What do you mean?”
“You mages have done nothing to stop the bigotry and violence of that fool Nateldorth.”
“What? What has the Great Mage done?” Linaera asked, bewildered. Could this be the reason for their madness? she wondered.
Leira sighed.
“Poor girl, don’t even know, do you? Well, I guess he’d tell you soon enough anyway.”
Linaera wanted to ask her what she meant, but the look she was given told her Leira was not interested in further discussion.
“Never mind me, we must get going. Strange things live in these mountains – magics as old as Neshvetal’s. Plus, it’s going to get colder; Neshvetal would have my head if I got you killed before he has a chance to talk to you.”
Leira pushed her along, leaving the empty waggon behind.
“What about the waggon?”
“The Revenants will take care of it.”
Linaera guessed the ones that looked human were the Revenants. She was glad they were behind her. They gave her the creeps.
In front of them, the cloaked figure of Neshvetal waved them forward.
“Let us move.”
***
Linaera moved steadily, matching the necromancer’s pace. The other necromancer, however, remained firmly in front.
Suddenly, he disappeared.
“Leira? What—”
“Relax Linaera. You’re just not seeing him because he’s gone past the glamour boundary,” Leira soothed.
Linaera looked closely. They had been climbing up a mountain; all Linaera could see was a wild, empty peak covered with snow.
She squinted her eyes, and the peak began to shimmer slightly. Then it disappeared.
In its place, a fortress loomed.
Even with the fading light, there was no mistaking it was built for war. Its form was concentric, made to repel invaders; its walls were granite, black, and stained with battles long past... or battles to be.
Perhaps most terrifying were the things around it. Vicious, flying monsters like she had seen earlier were present, along with many other creatures – skeletons, some with axes and some with huge bone bows – and naked creatures with foul, bloated bellies and sharp claws. Ghouls.
T
he great number of undead however, were the – Revenants? She had called them – in numbers stretching around the entire fortress, thousands at least.
Linaera shivered with disgust.
As if some unspoken command had been given, the undead parted to let them see the gate.
It was a massive construction of black steel, and a warning to all who dared enter.
“We have to go… near them?” Linaera asked.
“Relax, they won’t eat you. Well, not while I’m around anyway.”
Leira walked calmly ahead.
With some reluctance, Linaera followed her. She tried to stay as far away as possible from the things, but their eyes still followed her, like possessed marionettes.
Fortunately, Leira’s fast pace meant they soon arrived.
Linaera expected Leira would have to have done something to open the massive gate, but instead it – all masses of steel – lifted itself. There wasn’t a sound to indicate there were any pulleys being drawn.
Linaera once again probed with her mind, and found that indeed there was magic at work. It was a different magic though: it felt dark, completely different from the soft, elemental magic she knew.
“Come in.”
The fortress seemed to loom over Linaera. It took great willpower to move inside.
Once in, she found herself in a corridor of grey granite. Magi-lamps burned on the wall, giving the castle an eerie, unnatural feeling, like the depths of Hell.
At least Hell was warm.
“When am I going to meet His Mightiness?” Linaera enquired sarcastically.
If Leira was amused, she kept her emotions well hidden.
“Neshvetal will see you when he deems fit. Until then, you will be given a room and possessions to await his decision. Follow me.” Without further ado, Leira took off in the direction of her supposed room.
Linaera looked around, but the corridor had no decorations. Not even a painting. Linaera imagined she would get very confused if she tried to get out. Damn.
Doors broke through the monotony periodically – they were small, and wooden. (Though undoubtedly they were spelled strongly enough to make them strong as steel.)
Leira stopped beside one of the doors; a golden key was fished out. Linaera made note to find a key like that ASAP.
The lock jingled a little, but the door opened without a creak.
The Necromancer: New Edition: Republished 2016 Page 17