The Wrath of the Orphans (The Kinless Trilogy Book 1)

by Chris Philbrook

  Mal paused, and Omniri pressed. It was Mal's turn to backpedal as the large necromancer swung his hands wildly back and forth. The spell caster was madly aggressive, and Mal was tiring quickly. His head throbbed, and his muscles ached fiercely. This was an unfair battle; Mal needed to find a chink in the skeletal armor to harm his opponent even a bit, but all Omniri had to do was simply brush a finger against Mal and the dark shadow of The Way would steal his soul. The touch of one finger could mean death for the Everwalk man.

  Off the raised stone and down on the hall floor proper Umaryn held her own against the encroaching tide of undead. She felt like she stood in the center of a whirlpool, with all the anger and violence in the hall draining straight at her. The lantern's effect was powerful, unbelievably powerful, but it was like a winter blizzard; gradual, and unstoppable. It took several seconds for the undead to be pierced by the light, and a few seconds more for them to be annihilated by it. Out of the corner of her eye she tried to keep an eye on her brother as well. His battle seemed to be faring poorly, as he was on the defensive, trying to dodge the reckless blows of the now armored necromancer.

  An armored zombie swung a mace at her and she stepped back, dodging it. Despite their relative skill with the weapons, the special zombies were still clumsier than a living opponent, and Umaryn was more agile than most. She was able to hold the lantern aloft and plant a forceful front kick into the chest plate of the dead warrior, sending him stumbling backwards where he eventually tripped and fell onto his back, armor clanging loudly. It was a small victory, but it bought the lantern enough time to disintegrate another handful of the dead.

  She felt the tiny slosh of the remaining oil, and started to pray to her ancestors that it would bear out the rest of the battle. She stopped her prayer realizing it was the wrong one, and refocused it.

  Whispering under her breath, instead she prayed to the lantern itself, and the spirits of the things within, "Giver of light, I beckon to your spirit, your soul, that you find it in your good graces to burn long, and burn hard this day. I beg that you do so to save my life, and especially the life of my brother. We seek only justice in this, I thank you."

  She had no more than finished her prayer to the lantern and the spirits of all the things of Elmoryn when the lantern's light flared up more powerfully than before. The light burst forth like an exploding sun, releasing a concussive blast of sound and brightness, searing her vision white, temporarily blinding her.

  Mal's back was to the lantern when its power exploded. The shockwave of The Way blew his cloak around him and tossed him forward a half step. His vision faded out for a moment, but returned in time to see Omniri stumbling backwards, clearly blinded. It was now or never.

  Mal surged forward and closed the gap between the two of them. It was necromancer versus necromancer, and Mal used the tip of his short sword to gain the power in the battle. He could afford a single strike. His blow could not be to wound, or to maim. Omniri's spell in waiting could be set loose on his flesh unless Mal's first blow was a murderous one.

  He had a single opportunity to end the battle, and save his own life, as well as his sister's.

  Mal drew his blade hand backwards at shoulder level, the point even with his chin. He stepped into the thrust, twisting his hips as Ivar had instructed him, getting what remained of the power of all his tired and exhausted muscles, and drove the needle like tip of the sword directly at the slot in the bone armor's helm where Omniri's eyes were.

  He thought of Marissa.

  The blade slid a half inch low, and skipped on the bottom edge of the bone armor visor. The ancestors smiled on him though, and guided the blade upwards, allowing it to drive home deep into the core of the helm where Omniri's face resided. Mal felt the blade pierce bone, cartilage, and brain. It stopped on the back wall of the necromancer's skull, lodged firmly.

  He let go of the blade as Omniri's immense weight went limp and crumbled down to the cold hard floor. Malwynn was satisfied, but empty.

  The room was still as the lantern's light faded. The Way infused device had given them one last burst of power suitable enough to destroy all the dead. It seemed as if all the spirits of Elmoryn had smiled upon them this day. Now all that remained in the room were the clothes, weapons, and iron cages that had belonged to the dead.

  Also left behind was the corpse of Omniri Decadra, his bone armor fading from view, all his magic spent.

  "Mal we've got to leave. If anyone comes here and finds us we're beyond dead." Umaryn clearly had not realized the extent of their victory.

  Mal ignored her as he fished a small steel jar from a belt pouch. "I need half an hour to cast a spell. Pilfer what you can from this place. We'll be leaving Graben on the last train out tonight and our Crowns will be useless outside of the Empire. Grab only what we can put on Tinder and Bramwell."

  "What spell could be so important that we're to risk our lives and capture for it? You're not going to make him into one of your undead are you Mal? Mal?" Umaryn had misplaced fury for her brother suddenly.

  Mal turned to her impassive, and calmly responded, "Remember how he said the dead couldn’t lie to a necromancer? I am a necromancer. I plan on asking him a few last questions. I'm not satisfied just yet."

  Umaryn's frustration faded, and she agreed. She turned and jogged away, theft on her mind.

  Mal opened the jar, revealing an ointment that smelled of spices, lotions, herbs, and death. He used the dagger Umaryn crafted for him to split Omniri's robe open, then began to apply the thick white substance to the dead man's flesh. Everything had to be just so for the spell to work, as this was a bit of The Way he could not afford to fail.

  Umaryn stood at Mal's side as the spell took hold.

  Malwynn felt a tether form between his mind and what remained of Omniri's. The dead man's essence still resided in his fresh corpse, and roamed around it angrily. For the first time Mal could truly feel the brutal rage the dead felt. Omniri was lost inside his own body, and soon that soul would overtake it again, turning it into undead, and becoming murderous. Such was the way of the dead of Elmoryn.

  This spell would only afford Malwynn a few questions, and if Omniri's soul and mind chose to resist it, the questions might be answered with lies. He had to convince the dead necromancer to answer truthfully.

  "Lord Omniri Decadra, I greet you once again, though now on different terms." Malwynn said. The speech was silently sent through the magical tether with The Way.

  Mal felt Omniri's mind reel away from his touch. After a few moments he felt it return, interested in playing this one last game, "Malwynn Everwalk you are a necromancer indeed. Makar's suspicions were correct."

  Mal didn't answer. The more he chose to speak to Omniri the less he could ask of him. Mal needed to choose his words carefully, or risk losing the spell entirely. "You have my word Lord that I will see to it that your corpse is disposed of properly. I assure you that I will not reanimate or dominate you, and neither will anyone else. I cannot grant you life, but I can grant you dignity in death. I do these things for a few answers, to a few questions."

  Several minutes passed as Omniri weighed the deal set forth. Finally, he responded, "Answer me one question and I shall answer all of yours truthfully."

  Mal didn't respond, he simply let the dead man's question lay for a bit until Omniri continued of his own accord.

  "You had to have had an accomplice in this. I would've known of you had you been able to do this on your own. No one rises in Graben or the Empire to where you are without my knowledge. Someone had to have lent you assistance. Tell me who." Omniri's tone, even dead was hateful.

  Malwynn saw no harm in answering, "Dram."

  Mal felt Omniri's soul burst out in rage, and his dead body shook suddenly. It took several minutes for his soul to calm down and entertain Mal's questions.

  "Go. Ask me what you will."

  Mal asked the one real question he wanted the answer to, "Why did you destroy New Picknell?"

  Om
niri's soul and mind hesitated, and Mal felt a turbulence that could only be caused by the presence of fear. He suddenly wondered why a man already dead and guaranteed peace would have fear of anything.

  "I was paid to."

  Mal's blood ran cold. The realization that there was another layer to this made his heart struggle to beat in his chest. His palms started to issue forth a cold sweat.

  Mal kept his cool, and continued, "Who paid you, and why?"

  Omniri let loose a sinister laugh before replying, "Won't this shake your world to the core? This will be worth an eternity of oblivion. I was paid to kill a man and a woman in New Picknell, and take a small chest from their home. I was to kill an Apostle named Catherine, and the town's mayor Ellioth. Do you know these people Malwynn? I was told to kill everyone else and raze that village to the ground to ensure no one would know they were the true targets all along. Are they close to you?" Omniri baited Mal, played with his heart.

  Mal's mind reeled again as his stomach began to revolt. He had one more question, two at the most left. He could vomit after. "Who paid you? How did they pay you?"

  "Let this rattle around in your pea brain Varrlander. Let it rot everything you hold near and dear; I was paid by an Apostle from Daris. Someone high in the Church of Souls had something to hide, and had something to get their holy, grubby little hands on. Catherine and Ellioth knew their secret, and had this thing, and everyone in your village died because of it. Now they have what they wanted, and no one's the wiser."

  Mal couldn't hold it together any longer. His mind had been too torn up by the revelations to keep the spell maintained, and he slumped onto his back, severing the tether. He rolled onto his side as his stomach emptied itself onto the floor powerfully. He pointed at Omniri's body as it started to shake and convulse; the first signs of reanimation.

  Umaryn still stood beside her brother as he had sat cross legged performing the spell. Her hammer had been in hand the entire time, and when Mal fell backwards, vomited and pointed, she brought it down on the dead necromancer's skull, hammering it flat and ending any chance it had of rising. She crouched at her brother's side as he sat up, wiping bile from his lips.

  Mal set what he had learned free, "He was paid. He was sent by someone in Daris to kill mom and dad, and take something from our home. He was told to kill everyone to hide it. So no one could know they were meant to be the ones killed. They all died for mom and dad, and something he took from our home."

  Umaryn absorbed everything before replying, "Then we find this person. We go to Daris, and we take this the next step. Now we have time, and even more feathers stuck in our cap."

  "I fear what we will uncover, if anything at all."

  "I fear for them, when we find them." Umaryn offered her hand to her brother one last time in Graben, capital of the Amaranth Empire.

  - Chapter Seventeen -

  AN EVERWALK SETTLES ALL DEBTS

  "Absolutely not. You must leave immediately," Dram said as the twins entered Sorber Manor. Dram stood near the foot of the massive staircase that led up to the higher level of the stone fortress. He towered above them. Dram shook his pale white hands repeatedly, ushering them at the door in an attempt to get them to leave.

  "We will be gone in five minutes Dram. Let us gather our things," Umaryn said hurriedly.

  "Please Dram," Malwynn pleaded.

  Dram's protests slowed then stopped. "Where are you leaving to?"

  Mal answered, "We're getting our things then heading immediately to the rails. We hope to get on the last train out of Graben tonight."

  "Back to the ruins of New Pickell? Are you to rebuild what was destroyed?" Dram asked. Mal and Umaryn heard the tiniest fleck of hope in Dram's voice. It was a strange but welcome thing.

  Mal shook his head, "No. It appears that our journey to get to the root of all of this isn't over, even with Omniri dead. He was paid by an Apostle in Daris to destroy New Picknell. We aim to find this Apostle."

  Dram's head cocked to the side, intrigued by this news, "I had suspected something of the sort. This is more worrying than you can imagine. It speaks of conspiracy. It speaks of war. This bodes of dark times for both you and all of Elmoryn. It does appear though that the name I have given to you continues to be apropos."

  The twins looked at one another, unsure of what Dram really meant.

  "Nonetheless, your time here has been beneficial to me, and I shall reap the rewards of our relationship soon I am sure. Gather your things. Before you depart I have some things to give you. A parting gift as it were." Dram spun, sending his cloak in a flurry around his body, and he glided up the stairs ethereally.

  Mal and Umaryn looked at one another and shrugged. They followed Dram up the stairs to get their things.

  Mal packed a final tome into his backpack and tossed it over his shoulder. His head wound hurt fiercely, more so now than when they were deep inside Omniri's lair. Time might heal all wounds, but healing meant pain. He grabbed a large sack filled with the purple coin of the Queen, ensured nothing was left behind, and exited his quarters, heading down to the foyer where they had met Dram. Umaryn was already there.

  Dram addressed her, "You can replace your tools in Daris, or any sizeable village along the rails. Fret not. Bring the books I procured for you, the ones with the Artificer chants. They are quite expensive, and will continue to serve you for some time. I don't anticipate bringing any other artificer mages into my home any time soon."

  "I have them, thank you," she said in return.

  The tall cloaked death mage turned to face Mal, "Malwynn, have you the tomes I instructed you to read?"

  Mal nodded, "I do. I wouldn't leave without them."

  "Good. Be mindful that the study of death magic outside of my beloved Queen's empire is often a crime. If your new, true nature is revealed you might face dire consequences."

  Mal nodded again, "I'm aware. I'll do my best to keep my secret. Thank you again for teaching me all you have."

  Dram shook his head dismissively, "Nonsense. I simply pointed you towards where you could learn what you were meant to learn. Things happen for reasons. Call it fate, call it the will of your ancestors, call it what you will, but it was no accident that we three crossed paths."

  "Shall we call it good fortune then?" Umaryn offered.

  Dram seemed to approve, "Let us call it that. How many Crowns are you leaving the Empire with?"

  "We've got perhaps ten thousand," Mal said holding the heavy sack up. He was glad the coins were made of a light metal.

  "Mmm. They'll be useless in Varrland, or wherever you go. Give them here. I have something you can take in return." Dram reached out for the sack, and Mal handed it to him. Umaryn picked a similar sack up off the floor and handed it over as well.

  Dram spun again and dropped the sacks off near an ornate parlor table. He tugged on the drawer and after a few seconds of searching, he produced a thick wad of small papers the size of an envelope. He riffled the pile carefully, reading what was written on them, and then strode back over, splitting the thick wad into two roughly equal stacks.

  "Here, take these" Dram said, handing the twins a stack each, "They are Yokian dollars. You will not get their full face value in Daris, but you'll certainly get more than what you'd get from the Crowns. Not to mention explaining a large quantity of Commonwealth money will be easier than a large amount of Empire coin. Less prying questions will be good."

  Mal looked at the colorful paper money. It seemed fake. He and his sister had only seen coin money up until now, "How much is all this worth?"

  Dram shrugged, "In Daris? Hard to say. If you were to ride the train straight to Yokia and cash them in there, you'd get the full value, somewhere around 10,000 dollars. In Daris, I'd guess at seven or eight thousand, depending on how good you are at haggling the exchange."

  The twins were suddenly thankful.

  "Thank you."

  "Thank you."

  "Crowns are more valuable to me here. This exchange benef
its me more than you. You should leave. By now there is good chance that someone has realized that Omniri or Makar are not doing something they should be doing. You will have safe harbor at the rail yard, and aboard the train. The Guild and The Queen have an arrangement, and the death of an Inquisitor will not warrant the defiance of that agreement."

  The twins nodded. A strange silence fell upon them. Mal and Umaryn looked around the lavish manor room, realizing that it would be their last time there. The entire home had taken on a far better tone with Umaryn's care. Her mending spells had restored the home to a glory not seen in decades, or perhaps longer.

  "Then we'll be off. Dram, if only there was a way to adequately thank you for all you've given us," Mal said, extending a hand to the necromancer that had changed their lives.

  Dram's hooded head looked down at the hand extending the alien gesture. He awkwardly sent his own white hand out to grasp it. Mal noted how cool the flesh was.

  Umaryn put her hand forth after the two men finished their shake. Dram took her hand the same, shaking it firmly. She too felt the cold emanate from his body.

  "I wish you well," Dram said with finality.

  The Everwalk twins thanked the man that had given them their name once more, and they left Sorber Manor for the last time.

  The ride down the lift from the High City was more remarkable than ever. The pale white snow of the winter was fading away in the warming sun of spring, leaving the green of the fields revealed. The lush grasses were already springing up from the earth, eager to taste the life-giving sunshine that had been taken from them for the long winter months. Mal and Umaryn felt that more color and life had returned to the world.

  The low city was wet and soggy, as it ever was. Once past the establishments of higher standard they were in the industrial portions of the city, and then on the edge of slums. They did not pass near Maya and Usul's home. That might've been too much of a tipoff to anyone following them, and it certainly would've been another painful goodbye to endure.