“It’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it.” Cat struck a dramatic pose, ruffling his hair. “It will be my honor to serve.”
“I’m sure it will,” Emily said, dryly. She couldn’t resist teasing him. “Just remember a castle is for life, not for your birthday.”
“We’ll see,” Cat said. “What do we do now?”
“First, I add you to the wards,” Emily said. She gathered her magic. “And then we go up and find the others.”
She shook her head, feeling a twinge of guilt. King Randor had given her a barony, as if it were nothing more than... than a common or garden-variety present. She hadn’t understood what he was really giving her. She hadn’t owned a pet before she’d bonded with Aurelius and he spent most of his life disguised as a bracelet. The idea of owning thousands of humans... she told herself it would be different. Cat would have to entice people to move to his new country, if indeed he managed to get it off the ground. He’d know better than to turn into a tyrant.
“Clever,” Cat said. He watched, saying nothing, as she wove a spell to add him to the wards and showed him how to manipulate them. It would take some time for the wards to build to the point they could be used to monitor the interior perfectly, but they were on the way. “Is it really yours?”
“I captured the castle and killed its former master,” Emily pointed out. “And possession is pretty much all of the law.”
“Good,” Cat said. He smiled, suddenly. “It isn’t as if any of the original owners are still alive.”
Emily nodded. Void’s files had stated that the castle had been overwhelmed so long ago that no one even remembered what it had been called. Or the name of the country, or the royal family that had owned it... if indeed it had been a royal family. The castle was large, but that was meaningless. It could have belonged to a prince, or wealthy nobleman, or a magician, or... she ran her hand through her hair. Cat was right. There was no one alive who had a reasonable claim to the castle, no one who might be able to make a case for ownership... no one, apart from her. And now Cat.
“Rule justly,” she said. “In fact, try to rule as little as possible.”
Cat grinned. “Finally! An excuse to be lazy.”
Emily had to laugh. “Do you need an excuse?”
She took one last look at the nexus point, frowning as she sensed the magic shimmering deep inside. It felt... different, and she wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t something she could put into words. She had the strangest feeling - again - that she’d made a mistake... she shook her head, feeling oddly relaxed as she turned and led the way back up the stairs. Her body felt fresh and new, as if all her aches and pains had been smoothed away. She wondered, idly, how she was meant to deal with the other necromancers. Perhaps she could modify the mimic-spell to capture the necromancers, rather than drain them outright. And then drop them into the other nexus points.
It should work, she told herself.
Sure, her thoughts mocked her. Isn’t that what you thought about the batteries?
The castle felt different as they made their slow way up to the entrance hall. A handful of orcs tried to attack them, only to be knocked down by Cat. Emily hid her amusement as they continued to walk, followed by an ever-growing army of orcs. Cat had captured twenty-five by the time they reached the hall, where Master Lucknow, Crown Prince Dater and Sir Roger were waiting for them. Emily felt a flash of panic, mingled with fear. Lady Barb and Sergeant Miles should have been with them.
“My Lady,” Crown Prince Dater said. He took off his helmet and bowed. “Congratulations on your great victory.”
“And on ending the war,” Sir Roger added. His eyes slipped to the orcs. “Is that all of them?”
“No.” Cat sounded very sure. “We have to search the castle.”
“Tell the searchers to watch for townspeople too,” Emily said. She had no idea how many had been crushed by falling debris, or eaten by marauding orcs, but they couldn’t all be dead? Could they? Rangka had been throwing a lot of power around. Nexus point or no nexus point, it wouldn’t be easy to repair the damage. “We need to save as many lives as possible.”
“Of course, My Lady,” Sir Roger said. “I’ll have my men get right on it.”
“The war is over,” Crown Prince Dater said. “I can’t believe it.”
Master Lucknow looked oddly displeased. “Yes.”
Emily frowned. “Do you have a problem with us winning the war?”
“Things will change.” Master Lucknow looked past her, as if he didn’t want to risk making eye contact. “And nothing will ever be the same again.”
Chapter Forty
“I THINK YOU’VE OUTGROWN ME,” Lady Barb said. They stood on the battlements, looking over the unnamed town. A handful of orcs were visible on the streets, picking up the rubble and clearing the ground for newer houses. “I’d never have dared to walk into a necromancer’s lair so... boldly.”
“I didn’t think I had a choice,” Emily said. It was true, but not in the way she meant. “I had to stop him before it was too late.”
“And you did,” Lady Barb said. She grinned, suddenly. “What do you think he is going to say about it?”
“Void?” Emily considered it. “I don’t know. It’s only been a day since... since we won.”
She felt oddly unsure of herself, torn between the urge to go straight back to the tower and a desire to remain on her own. It wouldn’t be easy to go back to being an apprentice, not after she’d killed three more necromancers and led an army to victory. Helped to lead an army to victory, perhaps. It had been Sir Roger and Crown Prince Dater who’d done the hard work, turning her idea into a reality. She watched the troops patrolling the edge of the city, wondering how many of them would stay. Cat had, apparently, issued an open invitation to anyone who wanted a new home. Emily suspected quite a few of them would take advantage of the chance to rise in the world.
“I don’t know,” she repeated. “But I think he’d be pleased.”
“We retook territory for the first time since the war began,” Lady Barb said. She shook her head, slowly. “I can’t believe he’d be unhappy.”
Emily changed the subject. “How’s... how’s Sergeant Miles?”
“Irritable,” Lady Barb said. “He did channel a great deal of power. I’m keeping an eye on him.”
“I’m sorry,” Emily said. “I thought... I didn’t realize...”
“We’re going to take a break,” Lady Barb said. “Whitehall can do without us for a couple of months. We were planning a holiday before all this” - she waved at the town below - “came up. It’ll give him a chance to recover.”
She looked at Emily. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said. “And he wasn’t trying to channel power through his mind. It may have no long-term effects.”
Emily shivered. Necromancers went mad because they channeled vast amounts of power through their minds. Sergeant Miles hadn’t been drawing power from a dying victim, from someone he’d killed for his power, but it might not have mattered. She shuddered, wondering if Lady Barb was already quietly making plans to deal with her lover if he fell into madness. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
“I hope so,” she said.
“Me too,” Lady Barb said. “Me too.”
Emily frowned. “What about Penny?”
“She’ll be going back to her training after the war is formally over,” Lady Barb said. “She handled herself well... not as well as you, I admit, but well enough. She’ll probably take her exams later in the year, then wind up a junior mediator. I dare say you’ll see her again.”
“I hope so,” Emily said. She liked Penny, although she wasn’t sure how the other girl felt about her. “Remember to tell her that.”
“I will,” Lady Barb said. She turned back to peer over the town. “The rest of them are still out there, waiting. Cat’s not going to have an easy time of it.”
Emily nodded. The liberated country - Cat hadn’t thought of a name, not yet - was hanging on the bri
nk of total collapse. The land was just too badly battered and drained, the population unable or unwilling to believe things had changed... she shook her head. The sun was starting to peek through the smog, the skies slowly clearing, but she had no idea if that was permanent. They might not be able to grow enough food to feed themselves, not for the next few years. Cat was definitely going to have a lot of problems to overcome. But Emily knew he’d overcome them. He thrived on challenges.
And he has a small army of orcs to help, she thought. And enough wards to keep out another necromancer.
“He’ll be fine,” she said. “He has us.”
She heard someone coming up the stairs and turned, just as Sir Roger stepped into the dim sunlight. “Lady Emily?”
“That’s my cue to leave.” Lady Barb stepped back from the battlements and nodded. “I’ll see you before we go.”
Emily watched her leave, then looked at Sir Roger. “Did you complete the sweep of the castle?”
“Everywhere we could access,” Sir Roger said. “There are probably still chambers hidden away, somewhere within the walls, but...we searched everywhere we could. We found no books or scrolls.”
“Damn,” Emily said, with feeling. She hadn’t expected to find much, but it was still frustrating. “I... thank you.”
Sir Roger bowed. “Crown Prince Dater sends his regards, but he and his men have to make their way back to the camp. General Pollack will debrief them before they’re released to go home.”
Emily frowned. “I’m surprised the general isn’t here already.”
“I believe he’ll be coming later,” Sir Roger said. “Right now, he’s trying to convince the White Council to organize a permanent deployment here.”
“Because the necromancers are still out there,” Emily said. “And they can come here easily.”
“Indeed.” Sir Roger let out a breath. “Do you think Her Majesty will welcome us home?”
“I think so,” Emily said. “You’ve more than paid for your” - she almost said sins - “decisions.”
“Not everyone will agree,” Sir Roger said. “It might be better if we never went home.”
Emily shrugged. “Better for whom?”
She peered towards the distant mountains. “They say you broke your oath,” she added, “but keeping your oath would have forced you to follow a necromancer.”
Sir Roger laughed, harshly. “Do you think they care about that?”
“No, but I do,” Emily said. She resisted - barely - the urge to roll her eyes. The aristocracy practically ran on honor before reason. They’d have fewer problems if they let reason lead the way once or twice. And yet... she understood the logic, such as it was. She just didn’t like it. “I think, however, that you have redeemed yourself.”
She shrugged. “Go home, or stay here.”
“Some of us have already decided to stay,” Sir Roger said. “I haven’t decided for myself.”
Emily glanced at him. “It’s your choice,” she said. She felt her stomach growl uncomfortably. “Have you seen Master Lucknow?”
“Not for a while,” Sir Roger said. “I think he went back to the camp.”
“Master Lucknow has other problems right now,” a new voice said.
Emily looked up, sharply. Void stood beside her... how long had he been there? She hadn’t so much as sensed even a hint of his presence. She shot him a sharp look, wondering how he’d managed to do that. She’d been on alert, even though Rangka was dead. She’d been keyed into the castle’s wards. They might not be as capable as Whitehall’s - yet - but they should have alerted her to his presence.
She glanced at Sir Roger. “We’ll speak later.”
Sir Roger took the hint and departed. Emily looked back at Void. “We won.”
“Really?” Void sounded unimpressed. She had the oddest feeling that something - somewhere - had gone spectacularly wrong. “Did you?”
Emily’s eyes narrowed. “We killed three necromancers. We captured the castle. We reignited the nexus point and... the oath is gone.”
“Yes.” Void looked past her, over the barren landscape. “Do you know what you did?”
“No.” Emily studied him, feeling a twinge of worry. Void sounded angry... but she didn’t think his anger was directed at her. “What happened?”
Void let out an odd little laugh. “You reignited the nexus points. All the nexus points.”
Emily blinked. “All of them?”
“All of them,” Void confirmed. “Including the one under the White City.”
“I...” Emily stopped as she remembered the odd feeling she’d had, the first time she’d visited the White City. “There was a nexus point under the city?”
“It is not commonly advertised,” Void said, dryly. “Although I would have expected you, of all people, to figure it out.”
Emily resisted the urge to make a snide remark. She supposed it was obvious, if one bothered to think about it. The White City had been the center of the Empire, once upon a time. Of course the palace and government complexes would be built on top of a nexus point. Where else would they be?
She pushed the thought aside. “What happened?”
“The nexus point came back to life,” Void told her. “There was a surge of magic. No one was killed, but parts of the city are now inaccessible. And now...”
He met her eyes, evenly. “And now things have changed,” he said. “The magics you introduced - and the new weapons, the ones without magic - have effectively ended the necromantic war. We can break them now, Emily. We can end their threat once and for all. And... the old world has been broken. The pieces are still in the air. Who knows where they’ll fall?”
“Master Lucknow said everything would change,” Emily said.
“Yes,” Void agreed. “And Emily... they’ll blame you.”
End of Book Twenty
Emily Will Return in:
The Right Side of History
Coming Soon.
Afterword
This book posed a bit of a challenge.
On one hand, I wanted to write the effective end of the Necromantic War - they’re still out there, but their power has been broken, laying the groundwork for the next conflict - and draw in a number of threads and concepts I introduced over the previous twenty books (and three novellas, two of which will be published in the first two Fantastic Schools anthologies). On the other hand, I knew that - in order to do it justice - I would really need two POV characters for a chunk of the story. I seriously considered adding a new viewpoint character, before deciding it would make better sense - and fit with the rest of the books - if Emily happened to be in two places at once. I went back and forth about how to do it before deciding the simplest solution was for her to bilocate herself, at least until she merged back into one person. Please let me know if it worked.
I’ve also been working on my plan for the series. My original idea was to draw the rest of the threads together in a semi-trilogy, provisionally entitled The Right Side of History, The Face of the Enemy and Child of Destiny, which would wrap up the saga (or at least bring it to a natural stopping point). However, I’ve also found myself considering ideas for future stories, following both Emily herself and some of her friends - and enemies. I do hope to write these stories for many years to come, but - obviously - that depends on reader interest.
If you’ve enjoyed this book, please review it. Every little bit helps.
Christopher G. Nuttall
Edinburgh, 2020
Appendix: The Blighted Lands
Unlike the Allied Lands, the Blighted Lands have no formal existence. The necromancers who rule the lands wage war on each other with a terrifying frequency, to the point that borders - insofar as they exist at all - shift so rapidly that it is different to parse out the true size of any single necromancer’s domains. The landscape itself is mutable, depending on how much wild and/or tainted magic runs through the ground. It is a dangerous region to visit even if one should not encounter a necromancer or
his servants. A person caught in a storm of magic might end up wishing he was dead.
The history of the Blighted Lands is not, in broad strokes at least, in dispute. Prior to the Faerie Wars, the Blighted Lands were part of the Empire. The names of long-gone kingdoms and city-states might have been forgotten over the years, but they existed. The wars, however, smashed the pre-war order beyond repair. The combination of wild magic, enemy intrusions and - eventually - the necromancers was simply too much to handle. The lucky ones managed to flee. The unlucky ones were killed, sacrificed, or simply enslaved.
Despite their shifting nature, certain things are beyond dispute. The high-magic zones within the Blighted Lands, particularly the ones that play host to Faerie structures, are far more dangerous than their northern counterparts. Even necromancers tend to give the dangerous ruins a wide berth. Storms of wild and tainted magic ravage the land, killing or transforming anyone unlucky enough to be caught in their grip. The lower-magic zones play host to everything from giant monsters, warped and mutated by the magic storms, to orcish settlements and human villages. The necromancers themselves tend to inhabit abandoned fortresses or cities, turning them into giant abattoirs. Even the smarter necromancers, the ones capable of understanding that killing all their slaves means depriving themselves of future slaves, can become lost in their lust for power. Most visitors to their lands never return.
Orcs are, as far as can be established, the most numerous race in the Blighted Lands. Shambling parodies of humanity, created by the Faerie, orcish males are incredibly strong, incredibly fast and almost mind-numbingly stupid. They are literally incapable of building a workable civilization, if only because they fight each other for dominance. The only thing that keeps them in line is power. The necromancers have no trouble battering obedience into their heads (although even obedient orcs can’t follow complex orders, or indeed anything much more difficult than “charge”). Orcish women are supposed to be smarter, but very rarely seen. In theory, orcish women are grossly outnumbered by the males; in practice, despite the lopsided birthrate (ten males for every female), the high level of attrition amongst the male population keeps the gender balance remarkably even.
Oathkeeper (Schooled in Magic Book 20) Page 37