Necromancer Falling: Book Two of The Mukhtaar Chronicles (15 page)

“Saleem, is it?” Zorian said.

“Saleem Abdul Bishara,” Saleem said.

“I’ve learned something of your language,” Zorian said. “Peaceful servant of the gods, is it?”

Saleem nodded.

Realization struck Zorian.

This is the cognitomancer. This is one of those
blue-robed demons
our chimeramancers are so afraid of.

“Well,
servant
,” Zorian said. “You and I are going to have a productive relationship.”

“I’ve heard enough,” Emperor Relig said. “You will return to—”

“I speak with the authority of the Glorious One,” Zorian said. “I
and the armada
will leave when her purpose has been fulfilled. Not a moment sooner.”

Emperor Relig stepped forward until one foot was on a lower step.

“Speak to me in that tone once more, and you will no longer be Zorian Osa,” Emperor Relig said. “You will be whomever my imagination sees fit to make of you. Won’t he, Saleem?”

“As your Imperial Majesty commands,” Saleem said. He bowed.

Zorian retrieved Admiral Unega’s letter from his overcoat and handed it up to the emperor.

When the emperor read what Unega had written, he crumpled the letter and threw it back. It struck Zorian’s chest and fell to the marble floor.

It irked Zorian that it had come to this. The emperor’s decision was all but made. He could tell by the awkward silence. He’d seen it time and again in other lands, across oceans this paltry potentate didn’t know existed.

And each time it was like a slap in the face. He shouldn’t need the hasty scribble of a naval officer to add weight to his command.

When I’m Sian’jo, my words will carry all the authority I need.

The emperor’s shoulders sagged by an amount most people wouldn’t perceive. Now he’d relent. It happened the same way every time Zorian had to deliver the message, and to rulers far more powerful than Toren Relig. No one stood against the Diamond Throne for long.

“What do you want of me?” Emperor Relig asked. “Give it voice so we might bring an end to this. Your empire has been a ghost in the shadows of my palace for
far
too many years, and I’d have you
exorcised
. Once and for all.”

Zorian smiled. “Then this will be easy, and everyone will soon be happy.”

“Speak it.”

“Bring me your archmage,” Zorian said.

The emperor’s face lost some of its color.

“Turn Kagan over to the Glorious One,” Zorian said, “so that he can answer for his crimes against the Diamond Throne. It’s quite simple.”

“Why not take him yourself, with the
two thousand ships
you arrived with?”

“And destroy ourselves while navigating the most inaccessible sea on Erindor?” Zorian asked.

Something changed in Emperor Relig’s expression. Was he growing paler still?

“Yes,” Zorian said. “We know of the challenges of your Sea of Arin. You will fulfill your oath and bring him to me.
Personally
.”

“This…
thing
you ask,” Emperor Relig said. “It’s not as
simple
as you think.”

“You’re a powerful man, Emperor.”

“No one is
that
powerful.”

“You have one day to devise a plan and inform me,” Zorian said. “One day
only
. I trust you will have prepared sufficient quarters for my stay?”

Emperor Relig glanced at the woman who had led Zorian to the throne room. “Anisah, see to it.”

“Yes, father,” Anisah said.

His daughter, eh?

“You traveled with another,” Emperor Relig said. “What of him?”

“Tullias, my manservant.”

“The other one. With the gold bracelet.”

Zorian’s gaze came to rest on Anisah. “I doubt he’ll be with us much longer.”

Anisah climbed down from the platform and led Zorian from the throne room.

Lucian and Tullias sat right where Zorian had left them, the former fondling his bracelet, as he often did when making a show of his status. He seemed confused when Anisah and Zorian kept walking, and he struggled to catch up.

“Will he not see me?” Lucian asked.

“Afraid not,” Zorian whispered. “Only one audience per day. He did, however, offer some small comfort for the inconvenience.”

“What did he offer?”

Zorian glanced at Anisah. “One of his courtesans. She’s yours for the night. He implied she enjoys it rough, though. Are you all right with that?”

Lucian smiled.

For once, Zorian couldn’t help returning the smile.

CHAPTER SEVEN

¹
The Prison

²
Arin called his siblings to him and told them of a new plan.
³
“I will not embrace chaos.
⁴
I will not embrace wickedness.
⁵
All power in the heavens has been given to me.
⁶
I will lock The Power in a great prison.”

⁷
;Zubuxo stepped forward.
⁸
“Mine is the dominion of last things, for I am the last as you are the first.
⁹
I will be the one to create this hell, for it is to be our father’s last home.”

¹⁰
Arin agreed and empowered Zubuxo.

¹¹
“I will create six prisons for the six sins of humankind; the proud, the deceitful, the murderous, the wicked, the mischievous, and the lustful,” Zubuxo said.
¹²
He spread his arms and the Six Planes of Hell stretched out before him.

¹³
“I will send my children into the prison to purge my charges,” Zubuxo said.
¹⁴
And he spread his arms and called his children unto him, casting them into the Six Planes of Hell.

- The Mukhtaar Chronicles, attributed to the prophet Habakku

Origines Multiversi, Emergentiae 6:1-14

If the text seems disjointed, I can only reiterate that much of the Origines is presented as such. What strikes discord in the modern ear rang as pure harmony in the ancient. There is no explanation for who these “charges” of Zubuxo are, nor how they came to be in the six planes moments after the planes were created. It is clear that Zubuxo is referring to the souls of sinful departed, and we must accept that some indefinite period of time passed between the events in verses twelve and thirteen.

- Coteon of the Steppes, “Coteonic Commentaries on the Origines Multiversi” (circa 520 RL)

The sting of fear pierced Nicolas when the wall of Caspardis materialized about three-hundred yards in front of him. He hadn’t been expecting that, though in hindsight it was foolish not to; he’d nearly been killed behind that wall.

He, Kaitlyn, dead Kagan, and Toby appeared on the crest of a hill overlooking the city and Lake Caspardis beyond.

The translocation orb brought them to within three hundred yards of the eastern wall of Caspardis. The dilapidated edifice was much as he remembered it; sandstone, crenelations crumbling in places, iron portcullis blocking the road that snaked its way into the city, and red flags with a cat’s eye set in the center spaced evenly between the crenelations that hadn’t collapsed.

Toby jumped and clamped down on his gatorpickle when the world reappeared, but it didn’t take long for him to calm down, spit the toy out, and hop up on Nicolas’s leg.

“That was disorienting,” Kaitlyn said. She turned around, scanning the lake and surrounding countryside. “Crazy. It’s like someone plopped a medieval city down in the middle of Wyoming. You know what I mean?”

“Trust me,” Nicolas said.

Something about the scene before him was familiar. No, not familiar.
Identical
to his memory of Caspardis. They were standing on the same hill where the Shandarian Rangers had held him in the military camp. The camp was gone, nothing more than a phantom of his memory, but the trampled dirt and wagon tracks were evidence enough of the reality of his recollection.

“Are we going into that city?” Kaitlyn asked.

The sting of fear returned and his pulse quickened as he turned away from the wall.
What the hell?
What he’d gone through had been horrible, but he’d made it! He was here! He’d won!

“That’s the plan,” Nicolas said. “There’s a boat launch at the docks that should get us close. Well, not close, but…that’s where I was thrown into the lake.”

“You were what?”

“Long story. Just a…misunderstanding with the local authorities.”

Get a grip, Nick.

He took a deep breath and faced the wall.

“Wait,” Nicolas said. “Something’s wrong.”

Where were the soldiers?

“Isn’t it odd that the gate isn’t guarded?” Nicolas asked. “Why would they do that?”

Kagan stood expressionless.

“Hey!” Nicolas said. “Dead Kagan. Speak up.”

“Release me and I’ll tell you,” Kagan said.

Even in death Kagan was an asshole.

Nicolas sent a stream of images through the necromantic link. Images of hellwraiths—monstrous shrouded specters with glowing eyes and whips of shadow—from the Plane of Death. Images of how those hellwraiths carried unfortunate souls through a darkened doorway, never to be seen again.

Kagan lowered his head. “Enough! I’ll answer.”

“Keep it up and I’ll make you wish Mujahid had tossed you into Hell.”

“Playing God with your dead father creeps me out a little,” Kaitlyn said.

“He’s
not
my father,” Nicolas said.

“I thought you said he was.”

“Yes, Kagan’s my birth father. But he’s not my
dad.
Now answer my question, Kagan.”

“There are no guards because the city watch has probably been reassigned,” Kagan said.

“Helpful.”

“You asked,” Kagan said. “Perhaps if your question were more intelligent, the answer would have equaled it.”

“Listen, you…” Nicolas stopped himself. He hadn’t spent much time with dead Kagan, but the old archmage was well versed in pushing his buttons. He needed to stay calm. “So what question
should
I ask?”

“Do you notice anything else about the wall?” Kagan asked.

Nicolas scanned the wall. Everything was the same as he remembered. Except…

Except the gate. The city gate is closed. The rangers took me right through an open gate. Why is it closed?

Nicolas didn’t bother speaking. He sent the question through the necromantic link.

“There are only two reasons to seal a city,” Kagan said. “They’re either trying to keep something in or keep something out.”

“Dead guy has a point,” Kaitlyn said.

Kagan smiled a subtle smile.

“Don’t encourage him,” Nicolas said. “So which is it?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to ask them,” Kagan said.

Nicolas needed to get to the lake. It would be easier to go through Caspardis, but he didn’t have time to deal with whatever was going on there. He’d just have to go around.

“They’ll have to worry about themselves,” Nicolas said. “I have problems of my own right now.”

“Spoken like my true son,” Kagan said.

“The difference is, I’m trying to help people.”

“As was I.”

Nicolas sent a ball of necropotency into Kagan’s mouth, making it impossible for Kagan to speak. Caspardis was making him tense as it was. He didn’t need to listen to this too.

“What was that all about?” Kaitlyn asked.

“He’s an evil asshole trying to justify his evil asshole existence by convincing himself everyone else is just as much of an evil asshole as he is.”