Necromancer Falling: Book Two of The Mukhtaar Chronicles (66 page)

When her mind entered Gabril’s—from more than a dozen yards away—she’d formed the
intent
of going to sleep, and Gabril carried it out.

But now it was time to try something new; controlling a chimeramancer’s magic.

Kaitlyn pushed against the boundary of her mind, extending it out ahead of her, until more of it overlapped Gabril’s. The more of her mind she could force into his, the easier it might be to control him.

When his mind resisted, her natural instinct was to push harder. But she’d discovered in Caspardis that was the wrong approach.
Pushing
made the person unpredictable, as had happened with the cannon operator. All she’d wanted was for him and the others to step away from the cannons. But when the resistance in his mind grew, she forced it, picturing the strongest thing she could imagine—Godzilla. It was embarrassing when she thought of it, but she’d just been watching a marathon of seventies monster movies with Nicolas. Her imagination had been so powerful, however, that the poor canon operator thought he’d
actually seen
Godzilla! He destroyed the entire column of cannons as a result.

No, overcoming the resistance wasn’t about
pushing
or
struggling
. It was about
transformation
. It was about making the portion of her mind inside the other person more
tangible
. More
real
. More…
other
. The more different the
substance
of her mind from the other person’s, the more easily she could overcome the resistance. The more easily she overcame the resistance, the more complete her control.

Kaitlyn changed the boundary of her mind that touched Gabril’s, making it more dense. It entered his without further effort.

When the absorption was complete, she reversed the process, allowing her mind to return to normal.

The two minds locked together, and Gabril was hers.

But she wasn’t sure if any of this would actually work. And her head was buzzing like she’d stuck her head in a beehive.

Let’s start small and go from there.

She looked out into the harbor and focused on a single warship. If she could somehow convince Gabril to move
this
ship, she ought to be able to repeat the process with the others.

Kaitlyn imagined the ship vanishing.

Nothing happened.

Not
exactly
nothing. Nothing had happened with the
ship
. But Gabril’s mind was firing with activity, increasing the intensity of both the buzzing and the headache that followed.

It was
rejecting
her image, like a nightmare recognized for what it was and shoved aside for happier dreams.

Maybe her image needed more
intent
. More
details
.

Those boats had to come from
somewhere
.

Kaitlyn focused on the same ship. But this time, instead of simply imagining it disappearing, she imagined it was
necessary
for the ship to return to wherever it had come from.

The warship faded from view, leaving a gap in the pattern of ships sailing around the larger one.

Though she was excited for the success, celebrating it seemed too perverse.

I hope I haven’t killed those people.

But wherever they went, she needed to repeat that process with the rest of the ships. This time she’d focus on moving more than one at a time, though.

She picked four ships and repeated the pattern.

All four vanished.

Her vision faded, but returned quickly. As long as she didn’t push too hard, she wouldn’t be temporarily blinded like the other times.

Her heart raced. It was going better than she’d hoped.

Let’s see how many more we can take care of!

Kaitlyn focused on another group of ships, praying her luck would hold out.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

In the year 450 BCE, Baladi Mukhtaar stepped over the threshold, becoming Baladi Lord Mukhtaar. Though he reigned in a time of peace, that peace was the result of compromise. Serving the greater good required the sacrifice of a few. The peace of his reign, however, is overshadowed by the rise of the Cult of Malvol in the years following his ascension.

- The Mukhtaar Chronicles, Second Cycle, 10 CE

Nicolas held out his arm as Zorian stepped over a large rock and started toward the tower. Part of him wanted to launch a bolt of necropotency at Zorian and be done with it. But Kaitlyn still hadn’t succeeded in getting rid of the armada. She needed more time. And as long he kept Zorian talking, that armada would stay put.

“If you don’t mind,” Nicolas said, “I’d prefer to do this out here.”

At least here I can keep my eye on those ships. Come on, Kait!

Zorian shrugged. “If you prefer.”

“First, I want to know what you meant when you said the
fate of Erindor
is at stake. What does the rest of the world have to do with this?”

Zorian looked away and rested his foot on a basketball-sized boulder.

Another ship disappeared from the bay in the distance over Zorian’s shoulder. After a few moments of silence, he faced Nicolas.

“My archmage is a woman of singular wisdom,” Zorian said. “I’ve served her for years, and will hopefully do so for many more. Surely, you’ve sensed the growing darkness as much as she has. Surely, you’ve concluded the world cannot continue as it has.”

“Imprisoning the gods in a barrier for forty years probably had something to do with it.”

Zorian shook his head. “I thought so at first, myself. But my archmage is convinced this started long before your father did what he did.”

“You seriously believe this
darkness
of yours will go away if I surrender?”

“Of course not. But it will grant me the power I need to ensure others do what is
right
instead of what is
convenient
. And
that
will allow the archmage to do what she must.”

Zorian glanced over his shoulder toward the bay. If he noticed the missing ships, he didn’t react to them.

“I was once a naval officer,” Zorian said. “I resigned my commission when my admiral ordered me to sink a diplomatic vessel. A vessel that not only housed the diplomat, but his wife and children as well. So understand the depth of my anger, when I see two thousand
predator-class
warships, under the command of that
very same admiral
, poised to annihilate a city of more than a million non-combatants.”

“Then this should end peacefully.”

“Don’t mistake my peaceful nature for a lack of patriotism, Archmage.” Zorian pointed at the tower. “There’s a signal fire on the parapet of that tower. If I give the order, or if Tullias sees me fall,he will light it. The admiral will proceed with a
military
solution to this standoff. So, again I ask, will you do the right thing and come with me of your own free will?”

Nicolas couldn’t strike Zorian down if he wanted to. The bastard had planned for that outcome.

“You’d do that?” Nicolas asked. “You’d pull the trigger on a gun that kills a million people, out of a sense of
patriotism
?”

Several ships vanished from the harbor, and Zorian began to face the cliff.

“Wait,” Nicolas said.

Zorian stopped, mid-turn.

I can’t let this escalate. I have to distract him a little while longer for Kait.

“This archmage of yours,” Nicolas said. “Tell me about her.”

As Zorian responded, Nicolas chanced another glance at the harbor. Those ships weren’t vanishing fast enough. There’d be no way he could keep Zorian occupied for as long as it would take to get rid of the entire fleet. Not at the rate it was going.

“Is it done the same way at your
Pinnacle
?” Zorian asked.

Nicolas glanced back at Zorian twice before realizing the man had asked him a question.

Zorian spun toward the harbor.

“Clever,” Zorian said. “I can’t say I’m surprised. But I
am
disappointed. Tullias! Light the signal!”

Nicolas sent a web of necropotency toward the parapet, hoping to stop Tullias before he lit the fire, but he only managed a glancing blow. It was enough to knock the man down and send the torch flying. Nicolas would have to—

Pain erupted on the back of Nicolas’s head.

Zorian had backhanded him. But because of the uneven ground, he too had only managed a glancing blow.

Nicolas formed a sharpened cylinder of necropotency and prepared to fire it at Zorian’s throat, but he stopped. There was something about this man. Something sincere. He’d left the military to avoid the unnecessary deaths of a handful of people. He implored Nicolas to come with him to avoid the destruction.

Nicolas transformed the cylinder of necropotency into another web, and shot it toward Zorian. It wrapped around him and pressed his arms to his sides.

And then dissipated into the center of his chest.

Zorian clutched at something inside his tunic.

“None of you would survive a day in Barathos,” Zorian said. His chest sagged as moisture pooled in his eyes. “What a fool I was to hope you would serve the greater good. Know this, Archmage. What happens here today happens because of
you
.
You
have destroyed Dar Rodon this day.
You
are the man who
pulls the trigger
, as you call it.”

Nicolas had to think fast.

Zorian might have protection from necropotency, but it was doubtful he had protection from rocks.

Nicolas wrapped a rope of necropotency around a small boulder. With a mental heave, he yanked it sideways and struck Zorian on the side of the head.

As Zorian fell to the ground, a wave of heat rose behind Nicolas.

Nicolas spun to see an enormous fire blazing on the roof of the tower.

A flag waved on the giant command ship in the distance, and activity erupted on the decks of the warships below. Portholes opened, and cannons the color of brass emerged from each of them.

Clouds of smoke burst from the portholes as the first of the cannons fired into the city.

The explosions reached his ears within moments of the cannons firing. Several buildings collapsed in the distance, and dust billowed up and out toward the harbor.

I have to get to Kait!

Nicolas bounded over the cliff and slid down the sharply angled hill until he reached the switchback. But rather than follow the path, he slid down the side of the hill once again, until finally he reached the road and bolted into the city.

The dome and walls of the Arinian temple seemed to collapse in slow motion. Yet the destruction happened so quickly, so completely, no one could have escaped.

Zorian said there were thousands of people in there!

Nicolas ran along the ever widening street, ignoring the pooled water on the cobblestones. Kaitlyn would be at the harbor, which was to his right.

People flooded into the streets and stared in the direction of the collapsing Arinian temple. But they soon regretted it.

Two buildings on Nicolas’s left exploded, sending stone and wood fragments flying. The force was so strong, it knocked him across the street. He hadn’t even heard the cannons fire that time.

The few people who remained alive ran screaming farther into the city.

“No!” Nicolas yelled. “You need to
leave
the city!”

Nicolas stood, but pain in his left foot made him collapse once more.

Nothing was broken, but he must have sprained his ankle badly.

He forced himself up and jogged toward the harbor as quickly as his limp would allow.

The bombardment was nonstop. A hundred Barathosian warships sailed a slow circle around the gigantic command vessel, with five ships always broadside to the city. As the lead ship would steer out of the firing line, another would steer into it from behind. By the time the first ship came around again, having sailed around the command vessel, all sixty of its visible cannons—twenty on each of its three gun decks—were reloaded and ready to fire. The result was continuous cannon fire.