Necromancer Falling: Book Two of The Mukhtaar Chronicles (46 page)

“I must agree with Aelron,” Kagan said.

“That’s why I need to get up there,” Kaitlyn said. “I think I can do something about the cannons.”

“Cannons?”

“The
siege weapons
you’re talking about.”

“Your power can defeat them?” Aelron asked.

“I don’t know. But I have a better chance than anyone else here.”

“This isn’t a good idea,” Toridyn said as he drew closer.

“Where’s my brother?” Aelron asked

Kaitlyn massaged her temples. “We can catch up later. Can you help me get up there or not?”

“If the ladders are intact, it won’t be a problem.”

“It’s not the climbing I’m worried about. It’s the Barathosians. I’d feel better with you
and
Nick’s father to help.”

“Let’s go,” Aelron said. “But don’t let Nicolas hear you talk like that. About dead Kagan, that is.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Toridyn asked.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” Kaitlyn replied.

“What
is
he doing?” Aelron asked.

“Risking his life for a friend,” Kaitlyn said as she ran toward the tower.

The hole in the gate tower was so large, they didn’t need to bother with the door. But several ladders ran from the ground to the top of the tower, broken only by small platforms every ten feet or so.

“I need to see all of the cannons,” Kaitlyn said.

“What are you going to do?” Aelron asked.

“Whatever I can.”

“Kagan should stand guard down here,” Aelron said. “I’ll climb up with you. If anything happens, he can raise an alarm.”

They climbed three ladders to a platform just beneath the parapet. Kaitlyn stopped.

“This is good enough,” she said, looking through a hole in the wall.

When Aelron joined her, he saw what she was looking at.

Several large, rectangular military tents stood outside what remained of the west wall of Caspardis. Beyond the tents, in a large field farther west, several dozen Barathosians gathered in formation.

But the most ominous part of the scene below were the six large metal tubes, suspended on square, wheeled racks, aimed at the city wall. The racks were constructed of metal, and behind each was an
orox
like Morrigan described. It was like an adda—bulky, six muscular legs ending in cloven hooves. But these beasts had four horns facing forward.

Kaitlyn’s brow furrowed in deep concentration as she extended her arm toward the Barathosians.

Lucan saw the woman on the tower with her arm reaching toward him, but he put it out of his mind. He had to prepare his cannon.

He was one of six elite Barathosian crewman whose mission was to support the invasion of Caspardis. A single volley would demolish the sandstone wall, allowing the ground force to sweep into the city unopposed.

A violent dizziness came unexpectedly, but he steadied himself against the cannon for support, closing his eyes until the nausea passed. When the dizziness ebbed, the ground shook and Lucan opened his eyes.

Blood drained from his face as he saw the source of the quake.

Across the field to his right stood a reptile nearly four hundred feet tall, upright on hind legs. Stone-like spikes ran down the length of its back and out onto its massive tail. Its feet were larger than any of the command tents they’d brought with them, and it stood amidst a frantic group of Barathosian soldiers.

The creature threw back its head and roared, high-pitched at first, then tapering off into a deep base that rolled across the plain. But when it lowered its head once more, the stone-like spikes began to radiate a bluish-green light.

A beam of energy came forth from the creatures maw and sliced through the Barathosian siege camp, destroying any structures it touched and igniting the rest into columns of flame.

A thought pressed into his mind.
Turn the cannon and fire it!

Lucan pulled the stoppers from behind the wheels of the cannon and signaled his
orox
to turn the massive barrel of metal.

Aelron watched as the Barathosian on the rightmost of the six tubes pulled a stopper from behind the wheels of the rack it rested upon.

The beast behind it—the orox—stepped forward and inserted its four horns into the back of the rack. With a powerful thrust of its legs, it rotated, turning the entire rack, until the tube faced the other five. When it withdrew its horns, the operator replaced the stopper behind the carriage wheels.

As the operator touched the side of his tube with a torch. The other Barathosians dove away.

A flash and burst of smoke was followed by a resounding boom, and the closest tube to the blast blew apart as it slammed into the next, sending shards of metal and wood in all directions. The third tube split in half as it crashed into the fourth, tearing through its carriage and knocking it into the fifth. When the smoke settled, the tube operators hadn’t faired any better than the tubes. Except for the soldier who had fired it, who was running toward the largest command tent.

Only one tube remained intact.

“Did you do that?” Aelron asked.

Kaitlyn slumped to the floor.

“Kaitlyn!”

Aelron knelt at her side. She was breathing but unconscious.

He couldn’t leave her here. He scooped her up and placed her over his shoulder.

As he stood, he glanced out through the overlook to see what the Barathosians were doing.

They were gone. The entire fortification, along with the soldiers manning it, had vanished.

“Kagan!” Aelron called. “Something’s happened!”

Kagan stepped into view. His expression didn’t change when he saw Kaitlyn’s limp form draped over Aelron’s shoulder.

“Drop her,” Kagan said.

Aelron’s pulse quickened. “You’re more evil than Nicolas gives you credit for, if you’re suggesting I leave her here. I’d just as soon take my chances with—”

“Don’t be stupid, boy. I’m suggesting no such thing. Drop her. I’ll catch.”

Kagan extended his arms.

“Does death make you insane, or were you always delusional?”

“My physical abilities are greatly enhanced in this form. Now drop her!”

Aelron stepped down onto the ladder. He wasn’t about to trust Kaitlyn in the hands of the man who tried to kill Nicolas to protect his own power.

When Aelron reached the bottom of the tower, guards in the plaza were cheering.

“What did you do to her?” Toridyn yelled.

Aelron set Kaitlyn down. “She did it to herself. One moment she was standing at the overlook getting rid of the Barathosians. The next, she was on the floor. Now you know as much as I do.”

Kaitlyn groaned and turned her head toward Toridyn. When she opened her eyes, an expression of fear crossed her face.

“I can’t see!” Kaitlyn said. “What happened? I can’t see!”

Aelron stammered. “I don’t know.”

“Tor,” Kaitlyn said.

“I’m here,” Toridyn said, kneeling beside her. “Maybe I can fix this.”

Aelron was torn. He needed to get back to Morrigan at the safe house and tell her what he’d seen. But he couldn’t leave his Kaitlyn like this.

“Where’s Nicolas?” Aelron asked.

“He should return shortly,” Toridyn said. “He went to the Pinnacle in search of something that might end this battle.”

“
She
ended this battle. Efficiently, too.”

“I saw through his eyes,” Kaitlyn said.

“The cannon operator?”

Kaitlyn nodded, tears streaming down the side of her face.

“I watched it all,” she said. “But now I can’t see anything.”

Aelron couldn’t stay. Now that the battle was over, he needed to learn more about this Sodality Morrigan had inducted him into. The urge to head back to the safe house was as urgent as reaching for the coin had ever been.

Was that all he’d accomplished? Had he exchanged one obsession for another?

“Kaitlyn,” Aelron said, “Can I leave you with Toridyn for a while longer? There’s something I must do.”

“She’ll be fine with me,” Toridyn said.

“I won’t be long,” Aelron said. “I promise.”

Aelron ran back through the plaza, past the fountains and abandoned merchant tents, past the corpses of Caspardis soldiers, and retraced his steps to the hidden door Morrigan had led him to.

When he opened it, the stench from earlier had decreased somewhat.

Morrigan stood next to the door across the room. She noticed him, but looked back down at whatever she was doing at the table.

Aelron approached her.

“You need to stop throwing your daggers,” Morrigan said. “I could throw a rock with better efficiency, and rocks are easier to come by. That Barathosian would have killed you if not for misfiring his weapon.”

“I’m usually good about hitting them with the pointy end.”

“And then what? He would have turned and shot you. Your blades aren’t heavy enough to strike a killing blow like that.”

As Aelron approached the table, he took a closer look at what Morrigan was working on. There was a disturbing array of instruments—an assortment of bloody knives and tools, and a blacksmith’s glove.

“If you want to throw something,” Morrigan said, “I’ll train you with metal stars. You can coat them with fast-acting poisons and throw them by the dozen, if you wish. What I
won’t
do is watch you waste a fortune in master-crafted weaponry. Our resources are thin and our supply lines unpredictable.”

“I had a good view of what happened out there,” Aelron said. He told her the story of the clumsy crossbow, and how he’d decided to take a more active role in the battle. When he got to the part about the cannons and the Barathosian camp vanishing, Morrigan’s eyes widened.

A muffled groan came from the closed room, and Morrigan picked up a knife.

“You’re interrogating a Barathosian in there, aren’t you?” Aelron said.

Morrigan glanced at him, then stepped into the other room.

Gone was the partial corpse responsible for the fetid stench lingering in the air. A furnace—a stone enclosure Aelron hadn’t noticed previously—blazed with fire in the corner of the room. It narrowed at the top and vented through a chimney. A man, bound and gagged, sat in a chair next to the furnace. His hair was gray, matted down with blood, and a small section of his beard had been torn away. Burn marks traced a path up his arms and across his chest.

If Morrigan was responsible for this, she’d been brutal.

Before he’d met his brother, Aelron would have hardly noticed the man’s wounds, or the look of terror on his face. The broken nose and shattered eye orbit would have been of little interest to him. In fact, he’d have questioned none of it a few days ago. The man’s condition would have been nothing more than line items on an inventory. Random facts about the environment for Aelron to keep straight. Potential weaknesses to exploit. Necessary elements in his situational awareness.

But something stirred inside, and a solitary thought ran through his mind.

What would Nicolas think if he saw this?

Would Nicolas help Morrigan torture the man without mercy?

No. He’d help him up and offer to carry him on his shoulders if he couldn’t walk. Just like the refugee.

“This isn’t right,” Aelron said. “You can’t just beat him to death for information.”

The man moaned and nodded, clearly in full agreement with Aelron.

Aelron walked toward him. Was he going to set him free or not? Odd that he wasn’t sure, even while putting one foot in front of the other.

Stranger still was the lack of desire to flip a coin.

“This is
his
fault,” Morrigan said. “The entire invasion.”

“The invasion is hardly the fault of
this
poor bastard,” Aelron said.

“The archmage,” Morrigan said. “Him and his barrier.
He
caused this.”

“You’re talking about
Kagan
. He’s dead now, you know. There’s a
new
archmage.”

“And now the world has
another
Ardirian arse to kiss.”

“It’s not like that. The new archmage is a decent person—from what I’m
told
.”

Why did he want to hide his relationship with Nicolas? He didn’t need Morrigan’s approval.