Necromancer Falling: Book Two of The Mukhtaar Chronicles (62 page)

BOOK: Necromancer Falling: Book Two of The Mukhtaar Chronicles
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“You’ve always underestimated him. He’s accomplished in a year what you and I took more than a decade to achieve. Lamil himself presented him for ordination. Sabba agreed. Arin asked him to be the archmage.
Arin
!”

“Zubuxo save us from philosopher fishmen,” Nuuan said. “Are you sure about this?”

“Of course not.”

“Well…that’s good enough for me.”

“I know your mind in this, even if I can’t read it,” Mujahid said. “Believe me when I tell you our Nicolas is the only person in the clan who stands a chance.”

Nuuan’s image flickered once more, and his eyes widened. “Oh no.”

“What is it?”

“Six hells! This is my fault! The festering time streams aren’t synchronized!”

“What are you—”

“Brother, we need to hurry. Meet me in the sanctuary. It’ll be easier to explain when
both
of me are in one body. Now, go!”

He had no idea what Nuuan saw, but whatever it was had scared him.

Nuuan said he was observing Dar Rodon. Six hells indeed! Have the Barathosians begun their invasion?

Mujahid turned and ran, grateful that Nicolas and Kaitlyn were safe in Aquonome.

CHAPTER THIRTY

In the year 637 BCE, Diya Al-Din Kassab stepped over the threshold, becoming Diya Al-Din Lord Mukhtaar Kassab. Lord Diya Al-Din was the son of a nomadic tribesman from the Zarush region of Religar. Upon his ascension, he suspended all ritual associated with the sacred light. His effort to lead a simplistic reign backfired, however. A group of Catiatum priests mistook his humility for weakness and attempted to assassinate him, thinking a weakened Clan Mukhtaar could be subsumed. They failed magnificently. The skins of the Catiatum priests hang in the great hall of the Mukhtaar Estate as a reminder.

- The Mukhtaar Chronicles, Second Cycle, 10 CE

 

Not anymore. I refuse to look at those disgusting trophies while I eat. I won’t destroy them, though. They are a part of Clan Mukhtaar’s history and will be afforded the proper respect. But that doesn’t mean they need to decorate my dining room.

- Mujahid Mukhtaar, Private Commentaries, 15 CE

The wooden deck of the riverboat glistened from the sprinkling rain. But compared to the river, it was dry and empty of Barathosians. As far as Aelron was concerned, that was the best he could hope for.

Morrigan wasn’t happy to be in the turbaned man’s presence. Especially after discovering he was a Dawnmaster. Whenever he came near, she watched him as if he was a feral dog.

As the turbaned man approached from the passenger galley, Morrigan’s posture stiffened.

“I”m Vanni Yarwen,” the man said. “Dawnmaster of this vessel.”

“Forgive us, Dawnmaster Yarwen,” Morrigan said. “Had I known, I would not have violated the
concord
by signaling to you. I did not come here to attempt harm, and the Sodality is
not
transporting goods along the Orm. This was a terrible misunderstanding. We’ll jump and swim to shore if you like.”

“Nonsense,” Vanni said. “You’ve violated no concord. I pulled
you
out of the water.”

“Your benevolence is appreciated.”

“Hold your thanks. You may reconsider in a few moments.”

Vanni turned toward the passenger galley and waved. The door opened.

A man in the midnight blue robes of a master necromancer came toward them. His wavy black hair fell to his shoulders, but his mustache and goatee were trimmed close. Around his neck was a chain of office, but Aelron didn’t recognize it.

What he did recognize, however, was the terror on Morrigan’s face.

“Gods no,” Morrigan said. She backed away into the ship’s railing.

A
whooshing
sound swept around Aelron, and a skeleton appeared behind Morrigan. For a moment, it looked as if the penitent was going to jump overboard, but it climbed back down from the rail and stood beside her.

“However fast you are, I assure you this penitent is faster,” the man said.

“What’s going on here?” Aelron said. “Morrigan, what is it?”

“It’s him,” Morrigan said. Her lip was quivering. “It’s the
Traveler
.”

Aelron’s stomach did a somersault. This was the man who had killed the previous Traveler of the Sodality and was hunting Morrigan.

“Tithian Bel-Enrog,” the man said. “Prime Warlock…among other things. Fear not, Aelron. Your brother ordered me to treat you like family, and I have every intention of obeying.”

“And what of my friend?” Aelron asked. “I won’t let you kill her. I may not be able to stop you, but by Malvol’s festering flatulence I’ll die trying.”

Tithian’s gaze went back and forth between Aelron and Morrigan several times before settling back on Aelron with an amused expression.

“It would seem Shealynd hasn’t only been busy at the Pinnacle,” Tithian said. “Nevertheless, Morrigan doesn’t understand what she
thinks
she does.”

“Don’t trust him,” Morrigan said.

Aelron had never seen her paralyzed with fear before. It was unsettling.

“I saw what he did,” Morrigan said. “And he wants me dead because of it.”

Tithian rubbed his temples. After a moment, he lowered his hands and faced Morrigan.

“I’m not trying to
kill
you, girl,” Tithian said. “I’m trying to
promote
you.”

Morrigan stammered. “Why should I believe you?”

“You won’t,” Tithian said. “You never believe
anyone
. That’s why I need you. You think for yourself. You’re immune to the fancy words of powerful men. You’re the best demon hunter I’ve ever seen. And it took the intervention of a deity to find you—well, near enough to deity. I need someone like you.”

“You killed the last Traveler,” Morrigan said.

“Of course I did,” Tithian said. “Now, you can leave here in the Pinnacle’s employ, or…”

“Or what?” Aelron asked.

“Or she leaves as a
permanent guest
of the Pinnacle,” Tithian said. He faced Morrigan again. “I’ll not
kill
you, girl. But it would jeopardize the archmage’s position within the Council if my identity was revealed. I won’t allow that.”

“You’re saying you killed the last Traveler to protect my brother?” Aelron asked.

“As surely as I stand here,
everything
I do is to protect your brother,” Tithian said. “In my forty years of life in that dungeon of politics, your brother is the only man to wear the Qiyaaht who is worthy of it. If he spoke of me at all, then you know my part in your father’s downfall.”

“What’s a
key-yacht
?” Aelron asked.

“By the hells,” Tithian said. “You’re just like him. In more ways than one.”

“What does that mean?”

“Surely you must have questioned your agelessness before. You think your failure to moor with an adda-ki is because of lack of ability? Lack of fervor? It’s because your vocation lies not with the rangers. But Morrigan has told you this already, no?”

“How can you know any of this?”

“My boy, I wouldn’t be much of a Prime Warlock if I didn’t. We share the same goal. The same enemies. And a
smattering
of the same natural ability.”

“If you wish to protect my brother, then help us now,” Aelron said. “The Barathosians are going to destroy Dar Rodon.”

A look of sudden comprehension crossed Tithian’s face. But it was quickly replaced by something akin to sadness.

“Did they teach you of the Mukhtaar Lords at the Elysian Fortress?” Tithian asked.

Aelron nodded.

“A Mukhtaar Lord sent me here.”

“Then the Mukhtaar Lord agrees. We need to get there. And
quickly
if we’re to help Nicolas.”

“No,” Tithian said.

“We have to
help
him!”

“I know about your plan to bring
certain items
to Dar Rodon. The items you seek are on this very vessel.”

“Then we can still succeed! Nicolas’s plan might work!”

“Nicolas walks a different path from you,” Tithian said. “But you
will
go to Dar Rodon. You
and
Morrigan. Dawnmaster Yarwen will see to your safe passage. When the Barathosians take the city, I’ll need someone on the inside.”

“What?” Morrigan said.

“You may not trust me, girl, but I trust you. I
know
you. Perhaps better than you know yourself. If you reveal my identity, it isn’t me who will suffer the consequences. It’s a good man who is trying to change this world for the better.”

“But you just said it’s too late for him.”

“I said he walks a
different path
,” Tithian said. “Even if you double your pace, you’ll never get the items he needs to Dar Rodon in time. You have days more to travel by ship, and more than a week across land. Nicolas is there
now
, dealing with the problem.”

“What about magic?” Morrigan asked.

“I can’t teleport them. They disrupt magic. I was lucky to summon that penitent. And after I did, I nearly couldn’t control him.”

Morrigan fidgeted with the end of her cloak and looked down. Morrigan
never
fidgeted.

“This ship will take you to a coastal village in the Religarian Empire,” Tithian said. “Dar Rodon is a ten-day ride from there. You’ll pass a caravansary that is more than what it appears. I’ll need you to do something there, Morrigan. That is…if you’ll be one of my
Skywatchers
.”

Morrigan lifted her head. “Are you joking?”

Aelron remembered the term from what Morrigan had taught him. The
Skywatchers
were the Traveler’s inner circle.

“You’ll need to complete Aelron’s training, of course,” Tithian said. “The rangers may be stealthy, but they’re no Sodality. Not on their best day.”

“What of the Sodality who
hunt
me?” Morrigan asked.

“They’ll answer to you now,” Tithian said. “Not directly, of course. You’ll have to establish your own network. I’ll assist where I can.”

Morrigan looked away for several moments.

Tithian opened his mouth to speak, but Morrigan interrupted.

“If I do this, I won’t kill someone just because you order me to,” Morrigan said.

“I’d never ask it of you.”

“Well?” Morrigan said. She stared at Aelron. “This involves you too. I’ll not speak for you.”

“I’m no prophet,” Tithian said. “But as long as I’ve lived, the Mukhtaar Lords have had the best interests of this world in their hearts. I trust them without question. Had I trusted them years ago, the world would be a better place because of it.”

Aelron nodded. “That will have to be good enough for me.”

Tithian glanced at Vanni. “If you’ll leave me in Dyr Agul, Dawnmaster. I cannot risk translocating this close to the fragments.”

“Of course,” Vanni said.

“What of the caravansary?” Morrigan asked. “What are we to do there?”

“You’ll be contacted when you arrive. Two weeks from today. Begin Aelron’s training with haste.”

Tithian spun and marched back into the passenger galley.

“Are there quarters we can use, Dawnmaster?” Morrigan asked.

“Within the galley.”

She shook her head. “I’d love to know how the Traveler of the Sodality is in a position to give orders to a Dawnmaster.”

Vanni smiled. “Perhaps someday you’ll learn the answer.”

Morrigan faced Aelron. “Let’s go. I have two weeks to pass on knowledge that took me ten years to acquire.”

“Where do we begin?”

“In the land of the dead.”

“Land of the…” Aelron stared after her as Morrigan left for the galley.

When she closed the door behind her, he struggled to absorb everything that had happened. A couple of weeks ago, all he wanted was to return home to his family and start some semblance of a life. Now, he was…
what
? What was Morrigan and this Tithian fellow going to turn him into? A
demon hunter
? The main character in a story mothers would tell their children to scare them into obedience?

He’d be lying if he said the thought didn’t intrigue him.

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