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Necromancer Falling: Book Two of The Mukhtaar Chronicles

Page 12

by Nat Russo


  Nicolas did his best to put the penitent out of his mind. He had enough to deal with. Maybe Mujahid would know more.

  The familiar multicolored ribbons of light appeared in the distance. They were the many tubular hallways, formed from barrier magic, that comprised the city of Aquonome. And they approached far faster than they had when he’d traveled with Cisic.

  The tubes and domed hubs gave Aquonome the appearance of a gargantuan underwater spider with a bulbous abdomen. The first time he’d seen the city from a distance, he had no idea what it was. Now, he could identify the small central dome that served as a primary hub, where the many castes in Cichlos society came together for commerce. He recognized the giant temple of Zubuxo with the small training halls jutting out from the side. He even recognized the student dormitories and the tiny dome that must be the High Priest’s chamber.

  But instead of heading for the outermost barrier tube where Cisic had first taken him, the transport bubble rushed toward the temple dome. Toridyn didn’t seem upset by the trajectory, and instead was spending an awful lot of time petting the “poor deformed doggy,” as he’d taken to calling Toby. It was starting to piss Nicolas off, but from all the licking and hugging going on, Toby didn’t take any offense from it.

  “Isn’t this a problem?” Nicolas asked.

  “Isn’t what a problem?” Toridyn asked.

  Nicolas nodded toward the front of the bubble.

  “We’re fixin’ to smash into the temple,” Nicolas said. “Isn’t that going to hurt?”

  “Don’t look at me,” Toridyn said. “The chimeramancers are driving.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You think these things drive themselves?” Toridyn said.

  Nicolas had an idea. It was a long shot, but it was worth trying.

  “Kait,” Nicolas said. “Touch the wall of this thing and tell me if you feel anything.”

  She was hesitant, but she took a couple of steps toward the transparent side wall and brushed the backs of her fingers against it.

  “Be careful, lady,” Toridyn said. “You go too far and you’ll be swimming. Can’t turn this thing around.”

  “Her name’s Kaitlyn,” Nicolas said.

  “It’s okay,” Kaitlyn said. “I did stab him in the brain, apparently. Not that he didn’t stab me right back.”

  Nicolas took a deep breath. “The wall. Do you feel anything?”

  Kaitlyn shook her head. “What were you expecting?”

  “I’m not sure,” Nicolas said. “I was hoping if it was made by chimeramancers, you might sense something. Something might get triggered or something.”

  Toridyn laughed.

  “What’s so funny, fish breath?” Nicolas asked.

  “That’s Sab fish breath to you,” Toridyn said, pulling at his midnight-blue cowl. “The pod is created by chimeramancy, but it’s not chimeramancy itself. It’s not like necromancy, where you can sense necropotency. Chimeramancers don’t use necropotency. They use dreams.”

  Nicolas rubbed his forehead. How could he have forgotten something that important? Mujahid had explained it to him, but he was so busy worrying about Kaitlyn that he’d put the entire conversation out of his mind.

  “How does that work, exactly?” Nicolas asked.

  Toridyn’s eye spun around. “What would you say if someone asked ‘so, how does necromancy work exactly?’”

  “Good point.”

  “They sleep. They dream. They make stuff happen. That’s about all I can tell you, because that’s all I know. I got stuck with you and Siek are-you-still-ignorant instead, remember?” Toridyn lowered his head. “I shouldn’t have said that. He’s not doing very well.”

  “Will you take me to him?” Nicolas asked.

  “Why do you think this pod is headed toward the temple?” Toridyn said. “That reminds me…brace for impact.”

  “What?” Nicolas and Kaitlyn said at the same time.

  The transport bubble rushed toward the opaque temple dome like a crash-test car speeding toward a wall. Nicolas pulled Kaitlyn close and huddled against the floor. As the bubble made contact with the dome wall…

  …Nothing happened.

  Not even a bump.

  Toridyn laughed. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

  “You bastard,” Nicolas said.

  “You’re not a very nice fish,” Kaitlyn said.

  “Hey!” Toridyn said. “That’s racist!”

  “I’ve called you far worse,” Nicolas said.

  Toridyn’s eye spun. “True. Remind me why I’m your friend again?”

  Nicolas smiled and led Kaitlyn out into the temple, where she covered her nose and scrunched her face up. He’d forgotten how bad this place smelled when he’d first arrived; algae, decaying fish food and decomposing organic matter. It was worse than an unkempt aquarium.

  As always, the temple was devoid of people, except for a wandering cichlos priest or two.

  “It’s beautiful,” Kaitlyn said. “Smells like a lake, but the artwork is gorgeous. I love the star field on the floor! The detail on the individual stars is breathtaking! So sad in a way, though.”

  “Are you kidding me right now?” Nicolas asked. “You’ve been here a half a second and you see it?” It had taken him weeks of daily trips through the temple to understand the bright sparkles on the floor were stars in a spiral galaxy.

  “This surprises you?” Kaitlyn said. “The person who’s constantly asking me where his stuff is in his own apartment?”

  Nicolas was too busy staring at the front of the temple to respond. The massive statue of Zubuxo, which had once dominated the temple, was no longer alone. The gray orb of Zubuxo and the statue had been moved dozens of feet to the left, and an equally massive statue of Arin stood next to it, with a multi-hued, multi-faceted orb of Arin hovering at its feet.

  And that wasn’t all. Between the two orbs rose a translucent monolith, rectangular, but with one side angled down at forty-five degrees. A large parchment—no, an image of a parchment—hovered within the top of the translucent monument like a hologram, and an image of an open book floated below it.

  “What’s that book thing?” Nicolas asked.

  “If I were you,” Toridyn said, “I wouldn’t let anyone hear you say that. You’re the archmage now, remember?”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  “You’re serious?” Toridyn asked.

  Nicolas pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes.

  “Okay, okay,” Toridyn said. “It’s the Book of Life that Arin promised before you left, remember? It just showed up one day. That’s why the siek advised Sabba to dedicate the temple without you. They didn’t want to upset the gods.”

  “I’ll take a closer look later,” Nicolas said. “I saw the new orb at the Pinnacle, but I didn’t see anything like this.”

  “We should hurry,” Toridyn said. He walked toward Lamil’s quarters, which were beyond the orbs some one hundred yards away.

  As they stepped away from the transportation pod, it evaporated without so much as a mist, replaced by the original mural on the dome wall.

  A rhythmic pulsing came from the large training hall to their right. The familiar formations of student necromancers conjured balls of electric-blue light and levitated them between their hands. Nicolas had spent months in Aquonome—most of those months in that very room—and he still had no idea what those balls of light were for.

  “I see it and I still can’t believe it,” Kaitlyn said. “Is this where you learned how to…I can’t believe I’m saying this…raise the dead?”

  “Not exactly,” Nicolas said. “But this is where I got better at it. Siek Lamil was an amazing teacher.”

  “Better?” Toridyn said. “Near perfect, if you ask me. Managed to kill Jurn, and that was no easy fight.”

  “You killed someone?” Kaitlyn asked. Her face had lost some of its color.

  If this is how she reacts to Jurn, imagine if I told her the whole body count.

 
A sensation of amusement entered Nicolas through the necromantic link. Dead Kagan found this funny.

  We’re a stone’s throw from the orb of Zubuxo, buddy, Nicolas sent through the link. If you’d like to share your sense of humor with the hellwraiths for a while, I can arrange it.

  The amusement vanished.

  “Easy, Kait,” Nicolas said. “I told you we have a lot to catch up on, remember?”

  “Don’t tell me to take it easy. You killed somebody?”

  “It wasn’t like that, lady,” Toridyn said. “Nicolas didn’t have a choice. It was a duel to the death. It was either Jurn or Nicolas. And trust me…even Jurn’s mother was happy about it.”

  “He was a real piece of work, Kait,” Nicolas said. “Sadistic like you wouldn’t believe.”

  “And the others deserved it too!” Toridyn said. “It was a war after all.”

  “Others?” Kaitlyn asked. Her mouth was hanging open, and Nicolas didn’t like the expression on her face. It was a mix of disbelief and disgust.

  “Don’t jump to conclusions before I have a chance to tell you everything,” Nicolas said. He faced Toridyn. “And you. Zip it.”

  Toridyn shrugged.

  They passed around the side of the statue of Arin, back toward the siek’s chambers. He should prepare Kaitlyn for what was about to happen.

  “Siek Lamil can take things a bit literal at times,” Nicolas said. “But he’s an amazing person. A very wise man. Just…mind the cultural gap for now, and try not to take anything personally.”

  “What you’re about to see,” Toridyn said. “It isn’t going to be pretty.”

  Nicolas swallowed. “All right. Let’s go.”

  Toridyn walked into Siek Lamil’s chambers and Nicolas followed him.

  The chambers were more spartan than Nicolas had expected. Each of the three walls facing outside the temple were opaque, producing an algae-green glow. And what few personal effects Lamil had were were either splayed out on the floor or propped up on a desk made from Aquonome’s barrier energy.

  Siek Lamil was sitting on a barrier-energy chair next to the desk.

  And he was wearing a bathrobe.

  A human bathrobe. Enormous, but human just the same.

  Nicolas grabbed Toridyn’s shoulder. “What the—”

  “Sab Nicolas,” Lamil said without looking up. “We’ve been waiting a long time for you.”

  Nicolas felt the familiar tendrils of Lamil’s telepathic energy enter his mind.

  When last we met, you were no longer ignorant. Have you regressed? Lamil’s voice boomed in his mind.

  Nicolas smiled. I’m told I’m smarter than I look.

  “I don’t get it,” Nicolas said. He elbowed Toridyn in the ribs. “This one said you were practically dying.”

  Lamil’s left eye focused on Toridyn.

  “I said no such thing,” Toridyn said. “I merely said this wouldn’t be pretty. Look at him! Look at what he’s wearing!”

  “It would seem Sab Toridyn does not approve of my wardrobe,” Lamil said.

  “I’m not saying it’s a bad look, Siek, but where did you get it?” Nicolas asked.

  “A merchant in Caspardis,” Lamil said. “The city has reopened to us in recent weeks, and many are more interested in making money than in reinforcing old hatreds. But it seems I’m not the only one with an addition to my wardrobe. Is that a chain of office I see hidden beneath your robe?”

  Nicolas stuffed the chain farther into his robe and nodded.

  “No need to hide that which you’ve rightfully earned,” Lamil said. “You wear it well.”

  Lamil focused both eyes on Kaitlyn and stood from his chair, which appeared to melt back into the floor.

  “And so she arrives,” Lamil said.

  Kaitlyn looked as if she wanted to back away, but Nicolas put his arm around her and took a step toward Lamil.

  “I’ve been waiting for you since the vision I had several days ago,” Lamil said. “I saw you walking through a garden near a shrine of Shealynd. And I was filled with the most perfect knowledge you would come here.”

  “That wasn’t a vision, Siek,” Nicolas said. “It actually happened. She saw—”

  “I can tell him what I saw myself,” Kaitlyn said.

  Lamil shrugged his shoulders and rotating his eyes horizontally, the cichlos gesture for amusement.

  “I saw a fish—a cichlos at the shrine,” Kaitlyn said. “It was you.”

  Nicolas leaned closer to her. “Kait—”

  “I’m sure of it,” Kaitlyn said, drawing away from him and taking another step toward Lamil. “It was you. And you weren’t alone. Mujahid’s brother was with you, and there was a beautiful woman.”

  “The woman,” Lamil said. “I saw this too. But I saw no Mukhtaar Lord. This will require some meditation. I prefer not to act without more wisdom on this matter. But I can assure you of this, Kaitlyn. Though you saw me in the flesh, I was not with you in the flesh. I was in this very room.”

  Kaitlyn pursed her lips to the side.

  “You can trust him,” Nicolas said. “I owe him—hell, this whole world owes him their lives.”

  Lamil harrumphed. “I thought you wiser than that, Nicolas.”

  “Well, you might not accept the credit for it, but I’m givin’ it to you anyway.”

  “Regardless,” Lamil said. “This may have something to do with that room of many doors in your hall of power.”

  Nicolas remembered the room when Lamil delved his mind the first time they met.

  “There were a bunch of black doors,” Nicolas said. “And multicolored hallways leading out of it in odd directions. But I don’t remember—”

  The memory of Kaitlyn standing in the center of that room returned to him. He had sensed a presence when Lamil took him there, and that presence had turned out to be Kaitlyn. It had surprised Lamil when it happened.

  “You may be right,” Nicolas said.

  “And how do you come to speak our tongue?” Lamil asked Kaitlyn. “I know Nicolas didn’t teach you, because he does not speak enough Cichlossean.”

  “I don’t know,” Kaitlyn said. “I went to give Toridyn a hug and felt a pain in my head.”

  “You’re not the only one, lady,” Toridyn said. “I still have a headache.”

  “And afterward, I understood everything he was saying to me,” Kaitlyn said.

  “Yes,” Lamil said. “I’m beginning to believe this is very much related to your hall of power, Nicolas. When I examined your pathways, it was after the gift of Zubuxo had been bestowed on you. There may be others who have been changed as a result. Perhaps the gift was transmitted by contact.”

  “Gift of Zubuxo?” Kaitlyn asked.

  “Big black bubble thing,” Nicolas said. “Near the statue of Zubuxo out in the temple. Almost killed me. Long story. But this isn’t why we came here, Siek. We need your help. We need the chimeramancers, actually.”

  Lamil’s eyes spun, and he looked Nicolas up and down. “Why?”

  Nicolas explained Kaitlyn’s situation, starting with their mutual vision in the Pinnacle garden. When he finished telling the story, he felt haggard, like he’d been running a never-ending marathon.

  “Something is troubling you, Sab, and it clouds your cet,” Lamil said. “What is it that prevents you from letting go?”

  Nicolas’s gaze drifted toward Kaitlyn and Toridyn. He was beginning to feel self-conscious.

  “Guys, can you give us a second?” Nicolas asked.

  Kaitlyn narrowed her eyes, but she followed Toridyn out into the temple carrying Toby. When they were out of earshot, Nicolas faced Lamil.

  “Are you kidding me?” Nicolas said. “You of all people know what I went through to get back home. After all that time, I finally succeed, and now…now this!”

  Lamil harrumphed. “Your regard for Kaitlyn is not what restrains you. You no longer fear death. You’ve been to the other side and returned.”

  “How can you say that?”

&n
bsp; “What is the Third Law of Necromancy?” Lamil asked.

  “I can’t believe this—”

  “What is the Third Law of Necromancy?”

  “The Third Law of Necromancy states there is no death.”

  “Since even I know you are incapable of fearing that which does not exist, my conclusion stands. Something else clouds your judgment, keeping you from embracing your cet.”

  How did Lamil always do this to him?

  “I should understand how to fix this,” Nicolas said. And that’s what he believed. He was a master necromancer. The archmage, no less. If Kaitlyn had a problem involving magic, he should be the one to be able to fix it. “How can I call myself a master if I can’t even help her Awaken?”

  “And this lack of wisdom upsets you to the point where you’ve lost focus on your responsibilities?”

  “You promoted me. You gave me the robe of mastery. Shouldn’t that mean something? I thought you taught me all I needed to know about magic? So why can’t I help her the way you and Mujahid helped me?”

  There was an awkward silence while Lamil eyed him up and down. But after several moments, Lamil waved his hand and an image of a necromancer’s Robe of Mastery appeared in front of them.

  “Do you know why the robes and cowls of mastery are the color of darkest, midnight blue?” Lamil asked as he sat on a newly formed stool.

  Nicolas shook his head. “You once told me it’s a reminder we’re capable of great evil.”

  “At one end of the spectrum there is white. Many believe white is the color of innocence and perfection, yet white is an arrogant color, reflecting all others and absorbing none. White, in its pride, believes in its own perfection and accepts no change.”

  In all his time at Aquonome, Nicolas had never heard this explanation.

  “On the other end of the spectrum is black,” Lamil said. “Many cultures in the multiverse see black as the color of perfection. Black absorbs all other colors without reflection. It is the most receptive and accepting of the colors, yet black also believes in its own perfection. It accepts all in a display of humility, yet remains the same. Unchanged. Betraying its pride.”

 

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