Necromancer Falling: Book Two of The Mukhtaar Chronicles (8 page)

The magus didn’t answer.

“Someday a necromancer will raise you,” Aelron said. “I’m no magus, but I think it might go better if you had fewer secrets.”

The magus squeezed his eyes shut.

“Tell me what you know about this new archmage,” Aelron said. “Perhaps I’ll light a candle for you at the next temple I pass.”

“His name is Nicolas Murray. But no one’s seen him since—” The magus coughed, and another boil formed on his forehead. “—since he killed Kagan. Many in the Council question whether he actually exists or whether the Mukhtaar Lords rule the Pinnacle in secret, fulfilling the ancient ambition of Tycon Mukhtaar.”

“Murray?” Aelron asked. “You must have misheard. Only an Ardirian can be archmage.”

The magus’s face went from pale to light green.

“Why are you so interested?” the magus asked.

“Because
I’m
an Ardirian.”

The magus choked and coughed up blood.

“Garrison,” the magus said.

“What?”

“Garrison. Co…commander.”

The magus went limp, his eyes devoid of life.

A mix of uncomfortable emotions spun through Aelron’s mind. If someone had killed his father, then where did that leave Aelron? Where did that leave his infant brother…the one he hadn’t seen since he was five? He’d expected to be welcomed back by his family at the Pinnacle. Now he had nowhere to turn. Maybe the Mukhtaar Lords could help? He was told one of them was his father’s Prime Warlock. But this magus seemed to think the Mukhtaar Lords had usurped the Obsidian Throne.

The more he thought about it, the more he had no idea what he was getting himself into. Only one thing was certain. He wasn’t going to let any usurper—be they Mukhtaar Lord or some stranger named Murray—go unpunished. If he had to walk from here to the Pinnacle, then so be it.

But what had the magus meant about the garrison commander? Did this commander know something about his father?

Aelron stood and walked back into the tent. Having someone to hunt didn’t mean he couldn’t finish his meal first.

Kaitlyn smiled politely as Sergeant Diggins showed her the Pinnacle gardens. Gorgeous place. Flowers she’d never seen before grew in all shapes and sizes. Their exotic scents intermingled with the saltwater breeze blowing in from the ocean. But it was getting increasingly difficult to hide the pit she felt in her stomach.

She lifted her tiny crucifix necklace off her chest and rolled it between her fingers.

Nick said he’d been gone a year. She wanted so much to believe him. He’d never lied to her before. But when he disappeared from the apartment, he reappeared a second or two later. He
had
to be hiding something. Or, maybe he was just mistaken.

That wasn’t fair, though. Nick had gotten pulled through that swirling
thing
dressed for a funeral. Two seconds later he looked like a homeless person wearing a bed sheet.

Then, he raised Mr. Landing from the dead. She’d seen it herself.

Moreover, these people
knew
him. At least that
Tithian
guy did.

And she was walking around on an alien planet!

But the truth didn’t make this any easier. This was all well and good for Nick, but he seemed to have forgotten about
her
Five-Year Plan. What about graduation? Grad school? She’d finished her bachelor’s in Psychology, but she wanted her master’s as well. What about planning the wedding?

And what about the nightmares she’d been having that featured a decapitated head.

She wasn’t prepared to tell Nick about that yet. He’d freak out. He’d had the same dreams before that
portal
opened in his living room and brought him here.

Sergeant Diggins had been talking about something, and she’d missed it. Something about a rose bush that only bloomed when some goddess or other showed up.

She couldn’t do this right now. There was too much on her mind.

“Sergeant Diggins?” Kaitlyn said. “Would you mind giving me some time to myself? I know the way back.”

“Of course, my lady. If you need anything at all, there will be two guards at the door we came out of.”

Diggins bowed and set off toward the Pinnacle, though Kaitlyn wasn’t sure of the correct terminology. Some people spoke about the
building
as if it were the Pinnacle, and others spoke as if it were the entire island.

Not that it mattered. From what she could tell, the building
covered
the island.

A flash of red crossed her peripheral vision, farther down the path, and she faced it.

A woman with long red hair, in a floor-length red dress, walked along the path toward a distant hill. The woman glanced over her shoulder, and something about her face felt familiar.

Thoughts of Nick, the mystical portal, college degrees, and dreams with decapitated heads, drained away and left her with one purpose; follow the woman.

As she crested a hill, the path continued downward toward a shrine and the deep azure ocean in the distance.

Kaitlyn followed the woman, who walked a hundred yards ahead of her, down the path, past the mysterious flowerless rose bushes, toward a statue on a tall base set within an enclosure. The enclosure was concave, like the inside of a clam shell.

Kaitlyn entered the enclosure and hesitated when she saw the woman waiting for her.

The woman had the deepest blue eyes, and her smile filled Kaitlyn with a warmth that was equal parts love and pride. The woman stepped toward the front of the statue and disappeared behind the base.

As the saltwater breeze intensified, it carried a different scent with it this time. The strong scent of roses.

Kaitlyn followed in the woman’s steps, but when she rounded the corner of the statue’s base, the woman was gone.

The flowerless rose bushes had seemed dormant, but now they bore the most gorgeous roses Kaitlyn had ever seen. Perfectly formed, the deepest red, enormous—at least the size of her head—and fragrant beyond any flower she’d smelled before.

Kaitlyn glanced up at the statue and gaped.

Though the figure in the statue wore different clothes, and had brown hair instead of red, there was no mistaking the face.

It was the face of the woman who had led her here.

The nameplate on the statue read “The Goddess Shealynd”.

She glanced down at a stray rose at the base of the statue and bent to pick it up. It must have blown off of the shrub.

Footsteps on the path told her she wasn’t alone.

A man with long dark hair smiled at her. He wore a midnight blue robe. He raised his left hand, touched his thumb to his chin, and extended his little finger. As he pulled his hand away from his face, something materialized next to him.

But what she was seeing made no sense. Standing before her was a giant, walking fish. It had enormous eyes that turned independently of each other, and they focused on her, examining her from head to toe.

There was something non-threatening about both of them, though. The man, though he didn’t seem familiar like the woman, exuded an aura of care and protection.

“Hello,” Kaitlyn said. She took a few steps to get closer to the man, but she stopped and jumped back.

The decapitated head from her dreams appeared between her and the man. It was the head of a woman with auburn hair, and she wore a scowl.

In her dreams, the head stayed still, and it didn’t appear angry. But this time, she glided toward Kaitlyn quickly, like a predator swooping in to attack.

Pain erupted at her temples as the dizziness took her.

She fell next to the roses, and her vision went black.

Nicolas stood before the massive double doors that opened into the Council Chamber. His nerves were getting the better of him.

Tithian was by his side, going over details of the installation ceremony with several other council magi. Nicolas wished Kaitlyn could be here, but the rules were strict. No non-council personnel allowed. He hoped she was enjoying her walk. Tithian had assured him that she would be safe on the Pinnacle grounds. These were different times than when he had left.

Still…how was he supposed to calm his nerves by embracing his cet if his cet was off strolling through the tulips on a nature hike?

And where the hell was Mujahid? He’d hoped to introduce Kaitlyn this morning. But as usual, the man was off on some mysterious chore. He wouldn’t be surprised to learn Mujahid kept secrets from
himself
.

Nicolas took a deep breath and peeked into the Council chamber.

It was every bit as impressive as he expected it to be. The room was like a miniature colosseum, oblong with stadium seats. A marble banister, split in places to allow people to enter the stadium, separated the seats from the large open area in the middle. It was as if the room and everything in it, except the banister, were carved from sandstone.

In the center of the chamber, a series of steps led up to a raised platform on the far end of the room. Nicolas’s eyes followed the steps, up past a wooden podium, to the blackest of black objects. The Obsidian Throne. It wasn’t much more than a black chair. Sure, it was a
big
black chair, but there wasn’t anything fancy about it. Just a seat, two arm rests, and a tall back.

Next to the Obsidian Throne was a small table with two objects; a chain of office and a zucchetto—the form-fitting skullcap worn by higher-ranking Catholic clergy. Well, he was sure they didn’t call it a zucchetto here, but that’s what it was nevertheless. And he didn’t like it one bit.

Two liveried pages distributed a pamphlet of some sort as council magi entered the chamber. Were those
programs
?

“You’re making that face again, Archmage,” Tithian said.

At least Tithian had stopped calling him
Holy One
.

“Do the robes fit well?” Tithian asked.

Nick held out his arms and examined himself.

“I look like Kagan,” Nicolas said. “Same damned robe.”

“One, it’s only a uniform,” Tithian said. “A symbol that everyone understands and respects. And two, it’s not the
same damned robe
. Dead Kagan is wearing the
same damned robe
, remember? That’s something you need to change, by the way. We can’t have him running around wearing official robes anymore.”

Nicolas agreed and sent the command through the necromantic link.

“Done,” Nicolas said.

“And three,” Tithian held a finger in Nicolas’s face in an uncharacteristic display of assertiveness. “It’s not the robes that make the man. It’s the man who makes the robes.”

“Well, I appreciate your—”

Sergeant Diggins, the guard who checked on Nicolas the night before, ran up behind them, panting.

“Archmage,” Diggins said. “I came as quickly as I could. Just like you asked.”

“Ahh,” Tithian said. “I see you’ve already met Sergeant-at-Diggins.”

Diggins blushed.

“It’s okay, Diggins,” Tithian said with a smile. “We all get flustered now and again.”

“Thank you, Prime—”

“But for future reference,” Tithian said, “if you’re going to interrupt someone, it is me and
not
the archmage you should interrupt. Protocol, Diggins. You address
me
if the archmage and I are together, and preferably
not
while the archmage is speaking.”

“Understood, Prime Warlock.”

“Now, what is it you would like to say?”

“Archmage, I found Lord Mukhtaar.”

“Mujahid?” Nicolas asked.

Diggins nodded. “I told him you were upset that you didn’t get a chance to introduce the Lady Kaitlyn to him, and he promised to seek her out on the grounds.”

“So he won’t be attending the ceremony?” Nicolas asked.

“Lord Mukhtaar said you’d be better served by Prime Warlock Tithian and the Council magi.”

Nicolas looked down. It was difficult to conceal the disappointment.

“Thank you, Diggins,” Tithian said. “If there’s nothing else, that will be all.”

Diggins saluted and walked away.

“I understand why you feel close to Lord Mujahid,” Tithian said. His voice had softened. “But I promise I’ll help you through this.”