by Paul Barrett
“Thank you,” he said through a tight throat. “I release you from your service. Return now to the Heaven of Caros, to remain there through eternity. Addo zonreng bliar Krinnik.”
“Ge zonren.” The priquana spoke as one and collapsed. Erick watched their silver-tinted souls soar skyward, while the dark Elonsha spread across the soot-covered ground and dissipated. The bodies, no longer held by the balancing powers, turned to dust.
Turning his back on everything the hill of his home represented, Erick walked toward the others. His throat still clenched, he said, “Okay, let’s go.”
Corby and Elissia led, followed by Erick, a sack over his shoulder. Blink flew above, the other bundle of books held in his stout talons.
They moved as quickly and quietly as they could in the still air, Erick having trouble dealing with the sword that hung from his belt. It kept banging into his knee, so he had to use his hand to hold it still.
They skirted the edge of town farthest from the water. Lantern light glowed in a few glazed windows. At any moment, he expected someone to dash around the corner of a building and challenge them. Stress rolled through him as the temple of Caros came into view, taller and set above the other buildings, but all remained quiet. Fathen and his acolytes didn’t burst through the walls brandishing swords and screaming accusations.
“It almost too quiet, isn’t it?” Corby said, his voice shocking Erick with its seeming volume.
“Yes,” Erick whispered.
“It’s always like this just before dawn,” Elissia told them. “The spice harvesters have already left, and the farmers are in the fields, so they won’t bother us.”
The trio returned to the dirt road, stopping beside two eight-foot high pillars that straddled the path. Painted yellow and weathered from the salt air, they marked the border of Draymed.
“Go down the road until you pass over the first hill and can’t see the town anymore. Corby and I will meet you soon.”
“You sure I shouldn’t go with you?” Erick asked.
Elissia shook her head. “I can move faster and quieter without you.”
“Be careful.”
Elissia winked at him, and a thrill ran through his body. He still didn’t like the idea of his friends in danger, but he had to accept his excitement at having them with him.
Erick walked down the road, glancing back to see Elissia and Corby strolling into town. They split up, and it only then occurred to Erick that he had no idea which house belonged to Corby.
He glanced up the hill at the smoking skeleton of his home. His whole life gone in less than a night. He wondered how different it might have been if-
No sense even dwelling on it, Blink thought to him. It can’t be different. But you have the chance to make it what you want it to be.
Not really, Erick thought back. Father’s dead, and I have to fix his problems. I have to suffer because of his mistakes.
Stop it! You have to do what you were born to do, nothing more. If it hadn’t been you, it might have been your son. Or his son. Your father did the best he could. Forgive him and move on.
I’ll move on, Erick thought, but it may be a long time before I can forgive him.
As he walked, the town disappeared behind the rolling hills that surrounded it, but his home remained in full view. He sat down in the clipped grass, stared at his shattered life, and waited.
The sun had begun to rise, the day growing warm, before Elissia and Corby came into view. Elissia wore a light green, bloused tunic, loose-fitting brown pants, and a well-worn pair of walking boots. Erick couldn’t help but notice how well the outfit went with her dark skin and black hair. A black carrying sack hung over one shoulder.
Corby walked beside her, eating a pear. He had a large pack strapped to his back, and a large leather satchel slung on one hip. A dark rawhide belt girded his waist, covered with half-round bulbous protrusions set in a line. From the top of each of these chambers extended a thick metal pin, topped with a globe of tawny tree rubber. At his side, in a long leather sheath, rested a smooth wooden blowpipe, and he still had his iron-tipped wooden staff.
Underneath the equipment, he wore a brown tunic and pants and brown walking boots. A green, wide-brimmed traveling hat covered his partially shaved head. He made Erick think of a walking tree, and he smiled.
“I was starting to worry,” Erick said when they reached him.
Elissia shrugged. “You have to move slowly when you want to be quiet, and we have a small house. The hardest part was finding where my aunt hid the money.”
“You stole your aunt’s money?”
“No, I stole my money. My father sends them a monthly stipend. Beatru didn’t think I knew about it and tried to convince me my upkeep came from their pocket, but I’m not an idiot.” She pulled a small pouch from a front pocket in her pants and shook it, making a soft jingling sound. “It’s not much, but we’ll have to make do. I’ve got something for you.”
She slipped the pouch back into her pocket,
“removed the sack from her shoulder, reached in, and pulled out a smaller burlap bag. Erick could smell it before he opened it. Herbs of various types filled the bag, creating a strange potpourri.
“I have no idea if any of them are useful,” Elissia said, “but Corby and I grabbed what we could. It will have to do until you can get what you need in a town.”
“Thank you,” Erick said. They had managed to grab a surprising number of useful plants, and Erick suspected Corby had been the driving force behind the effort. “Although I have no idea why I would need them before we get off the island.”
Elissia shrugged. “Never hurts to be prepared. We better go.”
As they started walking, Erick asked Corby, “Is someone going to come after us? Won’t your parents worry when they find you missing?”
Corby didn’t answer immediately, and Erick sensed the scholar’s discomfort.
“Father might be upset he’s lost his apprentice,” Corby finally said. “But beyond that-” He shrugged.
“I would worry more about my aunt or Fathen raising the hells,” Elissia told Erick. “If it were just you, they wouldn’t care. But Corby and I are breaking the law, traveling under our majority. They expect that of me, but they’re going to think we’ve either kidnapped Corby or that you’ve ensorcelled us in some way to follow you.”
“I can’t do that,” Erick said.
“Do you think my aunt cares about that? And let’s not forget Fathen threatened to kill you.”
“What do we do?” Erick said as he imagined the entire town storming down on them, just like the night they marched up the hill. Except this time, they’d be after his blood.
“We move as fast as we can and stay ahead of them. Have Blink keep an eye behind us for any pursuit. If it comes to the worst, I’ll fight to wound and then run. I’ve been dragged back twice; I’m not going to let it happen again.”
It bothered him to hear Elissia talk about hurting people. What sort of life had she endured that she could speak so cavalierly about fighting? Although Corby had told Erick much about Elissia, he had never talked about her past, always deflecting such questions as something Erick would have to ask her.
“You’ve run away before?” Erick asked.
Elissia nodded. “Poor planning on my part. I was naïve to think Beatru would let me go. She has some strange moral imperative to see me ‘raised in a proper Zakerin fashion.’ Both times, I got a strap across my ass and a tongue lashing. This time I think I might see the inside of the guardhouse, so I’m not going to give her a chance.”
“If we can leave the island,” Corby said, “we’ll be safe from pursuit by the guards. Their jurisdiction doesn’t extend beyond that, or so my brother told me.”
“Then I hope we can catch a boat today,” Erick said.
“Put that out of your mind,” Elissia said. “The tides run out in the morning this time of year, so the ships would have already left. We’ll be spending the night in Keyport.”
>
A perfect chance for Brannon and the Royal Guardians to catch them, Erick realized.
Quit worrying about what hasn’t happened yet, Blink thought. I’ll keep an eye out. We’ll be fine.
They crested the hill and prepared to go down the other side. Erick took a last look at the charred ruins of the manor, forlorn in the early morning light. A shiver went through him, a sense of foreboding that he would never see this place again.
His stomach rumbling with hunger and knotted by fear, Erick turned away from his home and his past and walked down the road to his uncertain future.
11
Quana, or zombies as most know them, come in three varieties. Priquana, which means first undying, are the simplest of the creatures, capable of menial work and everyday tasks. Vohquana, which means warrior undying, are, as the name implies, creatures intended for fighting. Vohquana comprised the bulk of the Inconnu armies, but they are far from the only creatures in the Necromancer’s Art, as this tome will explain further.
-Excerpt from On the Necromancer’s Art, by Corberin of Draymed
Damn, Blink thought to Erick, I forgot how much Corby likes to blabber.
Erick smiled. Corby had talked almost nonstop since they left Draymed over two hours ago, pausing only to catch his breath or let the others answer the occasional question he posed. Even now he patiently explained to Elissia how the city of Kal Adan, situated on the southwestern edge of Zakerin, held superiority over her sister city, Kalador.
Elissia bore it with fine humor, occasionally rolling her eyes at her cousin’s pedantic tone. Erick found the younger boy’s chatter enjoyable and informative. Their talks when Corby visited the manor revolved around either Draymed or Erick’s life as a Necromancer. It surprised Erick to discover how much Corby knew about the world outside their small town.
The young scholar also displayed an engaging, odd wit, and entertained them all with stories and jokes.
After an especially humorous jest, Erick said, “You’re quite entertaining. You should consider becoming a bard.”
Corby blushed. “I’ve thought about it. But if I get in front of more than five people, I become shy and clam up.”
“Five people?” Elissia said with a rueful grin. “More like anyone other than me. This is the most I’ve ever heard you talk.”
Corby blushed even harder. He moved to run his hand across his hair but stopped when he hit the wide-brimmed hat. “I just feel comfortable around the three of you.” He reached into the sack at his side and pulled out three apples, offering each of his companions one.
Erick walked and munched on the fruit, overcome with giddy delight. His book sack and herb box weighed him down. The bandage around his neck itched. His curly hair, drenched with sweat, clung to his ears and forehead, and his shirt stuck to his damp skin. The sword scabbard banged against his calf and made it difficult to walk. The loose shoes given to him by Corby chafed, and he would have blisters before sundown. His stomach rumbled, the fruit doing little to sate his hunger.
Despite it all, he had no desire to complain. He walked on the road, traveling to places he hadn’t formed in his imagination or read about in books. Even the prospect of guards starting out from Draymed to track them down for what amounted to kidnapping didn’t dampen his enthusiasm. He had lost a great deal, but Blink had been right. Once he fixed what his father had ruined, he had a chance at his own life. In the bright, hot day, such a prospect seemed easily in reach.
They crested another hill and a plateau extended before them. Covered with high green grasses and dotted with bright red and purple flowers, it terminated against the Keys, which stretched as far as Erick could see.
“Hardly worthy of being called mountains,” Corby said, spotting the range. “You know the tallest one, up near Spire, is barely over a thousand feet.” Corby launched into a discussion of the range.
Erick only half-listened to Corby’s lecture, instead pondering his best method of reaching Broken Mountain would entail, and beyond that, how he and the other Necromancers would defeat Eligos. He found it difficult to imagine and again wished his father had taught him more about combatting the Master of Shadows. He wondered how much of his father’s lack of tutelage had been the influence of the Teloc Sapah. Had the book never come into their lives, would he be better versed in combat with the Inconnu? Had the book not existed, would he have ever needed the knowledge? The questions circling each other like vultures picking as his brain were enough to give him a headache.
“Well, can I?” Corby asked.
“What?” Erick had lost all thread of the conversation.
“I asked if maybe I could read some of your books sometime.”
Bewildered, Erick stared at Corby. How had they gone from mountains to his books?
“No,” he answered quickly.
“Why not?”
“Because they’re none of your business.”
Corby dropped back, and the smile disappeared from his round face. “Of course.” He quickened his pace.
Erick still felt confounded. In all their talks, Corby had never asked to see his books. Had thinking about the Teloc Sapah somehow put the thought in Corby’s mind? Did the book have that ability?
No, Blink said. Elissia commented that the books looked heavy and Corby said he would like to read them sometime. Nothing more sinister than that.
Oh, Erick thought. Elissia frowned at him, and Corby walked quietly—a first—with his gaze fixed straight ahead. Erick, who couldn’t remember pouting past the age of seven, thought fourteen was a bit old for such behavior. But he had acted poorly.
“Corby, I’m sorry, but my books are only readable by Necromancers.”
Corby slowed down until Erick and Elissia caught up. “Why?”
“We’re the only ones who can read the language. Part of the Covenant with Caros was that the remaining Necromancers would never teach others the Art because they might be tempted to use it for the wrong reasons.”
“I can understand that,” Corby said. “You should have said so in the first place.”
“Sorry, you caught me thinking about something else.”
“Have you ever been tempted to use it for your own purposes?”
“No,” Erick answered with great sincerity if not total honesty. It tempted him every time he used it, always whispering how he could do so much more, but his father had taught him well the dangers of such thinking—lessons Darric would have done well to heed. And Blink always stood ready to pull him back from dark thoughts if resistance became too difficult.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Corby said as he removed his hat and fanned his face. “To be honest, your power frightens me.”
“It frightened a whole town, so don’t feel bad.”
“Did I ever tell you about...”
Corby launched into another anecdote, but Erick didn’t pay much attention. Corby’s question had brought another disturbing thought in a day full of them. What if the other Necromancers didn’t have the same qualms about their abilities as he did?
An hour later the grassland gave way to more farms; these covered primarily with potatoes and turnips. Harvesting had begun, and groups of field hands worked at pulling up the tubers. Some waved to the quartet, while others ignored them.
Soon after passing the fields, the group entered Roadfork Village with the noon sun beating down. Blink landed beside them as Corby explained the village had been so named because of its position at the juncture of the eastern arm of Keystone Road and the southern road to Jungledeep.
The hamlet offered a half-dozen well-kept, brown wooden buildings, all geared toward travelers. The group decided to eat a midday meal at the tavern that served as the village’s center point.
“My father and I ate there once on a trip to Keyport, so I can vouch for the food,” Corby said. “Not that it would matter since it’s the only place in the village that serves food, so it’s either eat there or go hungry.”
“Do we have time to stop and eat?
” Erick asked, mindful of possible pursuit.
“We need to eat,” Elissia said, “so we have to take the chance. Plus, I think we all need some water. At least I know I do. We might want to get you some better fitting clothes too, and pick up some water skins.” She turned to Blink. “You should wait somewhere out of sight.”
“Why?” Erick and Blink asked in unison.
Elissia pushed a hank of black hair from her face. “Trust me; you won’t be welcome in town.”
“If he’s not welcome, then I’m not. Either he comes in, or we go around.” Erick said.
“You need to eat.”
“You can bring something to me.”
“But-”
“I have an idea,” Corby said.
He removed his hat and ran a hand across his hair. It surprised Erick the scholar hadn’t rubbed it to the roots. “Blink can pass for a gargoyle.”
“That’s the stupidest-”
Corby held up a hand, and Elissia stopped. “I imagine no one here has seen a gargoyle, as they are not indigenous to this island, and I’m certain no one has seen a homunculus. But gargoyles are known as friendly, even out here, and are considered lucky. Their skin is greener than Blink’s, but again, I don’t expect anyone will know the difference.”
Elissia didn’t look happy, but she turned to Erick. “Are you sure?”
Erick nodded.
“Okay, but don’t be surprised if we get asked to leave.”
Erick discounted Elissia’s pessimism, but as soon as the quartet stepped into the tavern, the amiable chatter of the noonday diners died like a rain-doused fire. Several men with the plain clothing and weathered features of farmers stood and left their unfinished meals, their eyes avoiding Erick and the others.
The overweight proprietor frowned at the departing men, but his round eyes grew wide as his waist when he spotted Erick and his companions.
