Emily nodded, taking the lead as she inched downwards. The stairwell was in surprisingly good condition, although she still had to pick her way down gingerly to ensure she didn’t slip and fall. Faint flickers of magic glinted through the air, dancing against her skin like flies and midges. She batted them away as she reached the bottom of the stairwell, feeling the odd hints of magic growing stronger and stronger. The nexus point was dead ahead. She could feel it, the yawning absence where something should be. Her fingers touched the batteries...
The roof caved in. Debris poured on top of them, smashing against the stone floor or glancing off their wards. Emily jumped back, sensing a flare of tainted magic... too late. Cat hurled a spell into the downpour, only to have it swatted away by an unseen force. A humanoid shape crashed out of the rocks, blasting magic at them with a strange combination of power and skill. Emily rolled over and over, realizing - dimly - that they’d been tricked. The necromancer hadn’t left the fortress. He’d been lurking behind his wards, waiting. She’d alerted him the minute she’d snapped his wards.
Rangka - it had to be Rangka, although the figure was wrapped in shadow - moved with eerie grace as he hurled another spell at them. Emily tried to dodge, too late. The spell slammed into her chest, picking her up and hurling her against the nearest wall. It melted, as if it was turning to lava. She realized, barely in time to escape, that the necromancer’s will pervaded the castle. He controlled every atom of the castle. She gritted her teeth, lashing out with her own power and breaking free. Rangka turned to face her, casting an array of spells. She remembered Void’s warnings and cursed under her breath. Rangka had more advanced spells at his disposal than other necromancers. He even seemed to have retained some of his sanity.
She gathered her power, then shaped a spell aimed at the floor below his feet. It crumbled, threatening to send the necromancer tumbling into the abyss. If the castle was anything like the others, they’d be a whole network of caves and tunnels below the ground, enough to keep him prisoner long enough for her to reignite the nexus point. Rangka dipped for an instant, then steadied himself, hovering above the hole. Emily blinked in surprise. He could levitate?
“You dare?” Rangka’s shadows started to dispel, revealing the body - the inhuman lich - beneath. “You dare?”
Emily felt her gorge rise, again. She’d seen too many horrific sights over the last few days, but Rangka might have been the worst of them. Shadye had been a shambling ruin, animated by his power; Rangka was a dead body that looked to have been torn from a grave and turned into a zombie. His rotting corpse managed to look both shambolic and deadly. She could feel the smell, she could feel...
“You dare?” Rangka raised his arm. A sheet of raw power crashed into Emily’s mental defenses. The storm raged at the edge of her mind, trying to break into her soul. She drove it out with an effort. “You dare?”
“Die,” Cat shouted. He cast a curse towards the necromancer, followed by a handful of lighter spells that might have slowed him for a second. “Die, you...”
Rangka lashed out again. Emily stood her ground, holding her defenses in place as his power hammered against them. His spells were odd, sharper than anything she’d ever felt from a necromancer. She recalled mock-dueling with Jade when she’d been a younger student and how easily he’d bested her, using spells older students mastered as a matter of course. In a sense, Rangka was no different from the other necromancers; in another, he had a far greater collection of spells at his disposal. She cursed as she felt her wards start to collapse, his power boring into her magic, finding the weak spots and exploiting them. Emily shoved them forward, hastily casting a modified draining spell and throwing it at him. His wards crackled with power, the spell tearing away at them. She thought, for a moment, she had him... and then he simply shoved the wards away. It was what she’d done...
He spent longer learning to duel than any of the others, she thought. She tried to glance past the necromancer, towards the dead nexus point, but she doubted she could get around him before it was too late. The walls were starting to close in, driving them inexorably towards the rotting corpse. He knows how to use his power to best advantage.
“Get back,” she shouted at Cat. She mustered her power, readying herself. “Now!”
Cat glanced at her, then jumped backwards as Emily cast a spell to pick up the debris and hurl it at Rangka. The necromancer raised his wards, hardening them rapidly as she pounded them with debris. Her eyes narrowed - most sorcerers didn’t realize they had to protect themselves against physical attack, not unless there was a clear and present danger - but she hadn’t expected the attack to do more than slow him down. It would blind him, just for a few seconds. She nodded to Cat, hoping he realized what she had in mind, then hurled herself around the necromancer. If she could get to the nexus point, she could reignite it and win...
An invisible force wrapped around her ankle, yanking her back and throwing her across the chamber. The walls melted again, tendrils of lava-like stone reaching for her. She almost panicked, an instant before one force vanished and another grabbed her, cushioning her fall. She twisted in midair, then landed neatly on the floor. The ground started to crumble beneath her feet, threatening to make her fall instead. She considered, briefly, doing just that - she might be able to circle around underground and reach the nexus point - but as long as the necromancer kept his cool, he’d be able to stay between her and the nexus point. And that meant... she glanced at Cat. They had to shove the necromancer into the nexus point.
She forced herself to think as she tried to transfigure the air around him to gunpowder. It refused to work properly. There was too much magic in the air... she braced herself, then tried again. The spell was simply absorbed into his magic field. They were just too complex to survive. She cursed under her breath, then hurled more pieces of debris at him. It would distract him for a second or too, just long enough for her to hit him with a modified draining charm. Light flared around the rotting corpse as his power started to flow into her spell. There’d only be a few seconds before he cancelled it or simply threw it back at them.
“Hit him,” she snapped. She cast a force punch, mingling a handful of charms that should counteract his levitation spell and send him flying back. If they managed to get him into the point, if they managed to reignite the point... she could worry about taking control later. Rangka didn’t seem anywhere near as sane as Dua Kepala. It was unlikely he’d bilocated himself. “Hurry!”
The necromancer snarled, nearly dropping out of the air as his charms started to dissolve. Emily pushed him forward, trying to shove him right into the nexus point chamber. The magic twisted, flashes of light and pain slamming into her head. He was doing something... she felt her will start to drain away, an insane and suicidal urge to just stand still and wait for orders. A compulsion spell... an odd one, more of a prank than anything else, but dangerous with all the power of a necromancer behind it. She shook her head to clear it of the sudden cobwebs, realizing - too late - that she’d left herself exposed. The force punch that struck her threw her back, hard. She felt her bones cracking as she stumbled and landed on her backside. Her heart thumped frantically as she cast a pair of spells, hoping to keep herself going long enough to escape. It wasn’t safe to try to heal oneself, but Cat couldn’t help her while he was fighting his own battle.
She looked up. The necromancer was advancing on Cat, throwing spell after spell. She knew it was just a matter of time until Cat's wards crumbled, until Rangka blew him into very little pieces or drained his power before throwing the body to the orcs. They’d gone toe to toe with a necromancer, and lost. They had to get out...
“Cat,” she shouted. It took her last flicker of power to distract the necromancer, just for a second. The lightspell would blind him, but he wouldn’t have to do more than a basic spell to counter it. “Use the gem! Now!”
Cat jumped back. “Emily!”
“Now!” Emily understood. They’d been through too much to just
cut and run. Her other self had risked her life and her sanity to give them the chance to sneak into the castle. They'd failed. “Use it! Now!”
“There is no escape,” Rangka said. It was hard to be sure, but it sounded as if he were gloating. He kept throwing spells at Cat, his wards finally starting to break. “You are in my power.”
Cat threw up a final shield, then grasped the amulet in one hand and triggered it. There was a flash of light, lingering just long enough for Emily to be sure something had gone horribly wrong, and then he was gone. She grinned at the necromancer’s confused look, then reached for her own amulet...
... And froze. Emily’s hand refused to move. She was frozen... no, the oath was holding her in place, demanding she go to the nexus point. She couldn’t cut and run. Sheer terror ran through her as the necromancer stalked towards her, one rotting hand reaching for her and lifting her up by the neck. She tried desperately to break the oath, to promise herself that she’d be back as soon as possible, but it refused to work. The oath wouldn’t let her go. She stared into the red eyes, feeling the necromancer’s grip start to tighten...
And snap.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Emily SCREAMED.
The torrent of memories blasted into her head, a dizzying series of impressions and thoughts and knowledge that were hers and weren’t hers, and were hers and... she stumbled, nearly falling. She would have fallen if Lady Barb hadn’t caught her, hadn’t held her as the memories - her other self’s memories - hammered into her skull. Her mental defenses were tight, but they were the same person. They could no more block their own thoughts than they could put a knife through their chest.
He killed me. He killed me. He killed me.
She nearly blacked out. The impression was so strong it overwhelmed her. A hand wrapped around her neck, a tightening grip, a snap... she vomited, helplessly. She’d died. She’d died, and yet she was alive... a howling gulf threatened to tear through her mind, dragging her down into the darkness. Her other self had died... her other self had died and come back to her and... her thoughts ran in circles, two sets of memories battling for supremacy. They were the same person... no, they’d been the same person. They were the same person again. The thought made no sense, but she clung to it anyway. They’d been two minds in two bodies, and now they were one mind in one body and...
“Get her back to her room,” Lady Barb said. Her voice was so quiet Emily thought she was miles away. And yet, she had a tight grip on Emily’s arm. “Hurry.”
Emily felt herself falling, her body lightening to the point she drifted through the air like a balloon. A series of dizzying impressions - a rotting corpse, faces peering down at her worriedly - swept through her, as if she were blacking out, recovering and blacking out again. She’d been in the fort. She’d walked to the castle. No, she’d done both. The threads assaulted her mind, forcing her to reassimilate the memories one by one. She shuddered, retching again, as she recalled the plantation. It felt as if she were seeing it for the first time.
It wasn’t easy to sort out the memories. It felt as if there were two different stories, two different people... yet they were the same story, the same person. She’d literally been in two places at once. The contradiction made her head hurt. She closed her eyes and forced herself to concentrate, despite the pain. They shouldn’t have any problems reuniting into one.
And she had experiences I didn’t have, Emily thought, numbly. We were diverging slowly when she was killed.
She opened her eyes and stared up at the dull sandy ceiling. She was back in her bedroom, unsure how she’d gotten there. Her memories were a jumble. She’d been going to see Sir Roger, to talk to him about the orcs the scouts had spotted roaming the landscape; she’d had an idea that might have given them an advantage when the next necromancer showed up. She’d... the memories shattered, washed away by a wave of pain and confusion. It felt as if she’d walked straight into a brick wall. It was hard, so hard, to untangle the knot and sort the memories into some kind of coherent order. She was practically trying to read her own mind, but... worse, far worse. She snorted at the thought. Anyone who tried to read her mind now would probably wind up with a walloping headache of their own. Her thoughts contradicted themselves, and yet they weren’t lying...
A cool hand touched her forehead. “Emily?”
Emily turned her head, despite the pain. Lady Barb knelt beside her, holding a glass of water in one hand. “I...”
“Here.” Lady Barb helped her to sit up, then held the glass to her lips. “How are you feeling?”
Emily shuddered, helplessly. “My other self is dead.”
Lady Barb’s eyes narrowed. “What happened?”
“The necromancer was there.” Emily closed her eyes, recalling the memories. It felt as if she were both reliving them and hearing them, as if they’d happened to someone else. “He killed me. Cat... I think Cat made it out.”
Her hand twitched towards her neckline, where the teleport gem was... no, where it had been. She cursed mentally as her fingers touched her skin. She’d had a way out, but... she gritted her teeth as she felt the oath press against her mind. It hadn’t let her leave. It hadn’t... bile rose in her throat as she realized, for the first time, just how dangerous oaths could be. It hadn’t let her run so she could try again. Instead, it had condemned her other self to a painful death. If she’d gone there without bilocating herself, she would be dead.
“Good,” Lady Barb said, in an icy tone that promised trouble for Cat. “What else can you remember?”
“It wasn’t his fault,” Emily said. “I told him to go.”
Her stomach lurched suddenly and she retched, again. “I... I told him to go.”
“We’ll see,” Lady Barb said. “How do you feel?”
Emily stared down at her hands. They felt... weird. Her body ached, as if she’d been brutally beaten and somehow lost all memory of it. She swallowed hard as she felt her cheek starting to throb.... she touched it lightly, wincing at the pain. Someone had slapped her... had they? She wasn’t sure. The necromancer had hammered her - and Cat - hard, during the brief fight. Her body bore the aches and pains he’d meted out to her other self. She rubbed her cheek, wondering when and where he’d slapped her. She honestly hadn’t noticed.
“Sore,” she said, finally. She took another sip of water. Her stomach heaved, warningly. “I... I didn’t realize.”
“There are very good reasons why few magicians learn to bilocate,” Lady Barb said. Her voice sounded stern, but there was a hint of worry in her eyes. “You might have damaged your mind permanently.”
“No.” Emily didn’t want to think about it. “I’m fine.”
“Hah.” Lady Barb didn’t seem impressed. “Yes, I know. You and your other self are - were - the same person. Your thoughts are one. You weren’t trying to possess a stranger, someone who didn’t have your body” - she shook her head - “but still, the longer you remain apart, the greater the divergence between you. It may be a while before you’re fit to rejoin us.”
She leaned forward. “Emily, you’ve done enough. Go back to the camp and rest. I’m sure even he will give you time to recover...”
“I can’t,” Emily said, flatly. “I have to see this through.”
“No, you don’t.” Lady Barb leaned forward. “You’ve done enough.”
Emily shook her head, regretting it instantly as a flash of pain shot through her mind. She couldn’t go. The oath wouldn’t let her. She might get away with it, if Lady Barb stunned her before carrying her back to the camp, but she couldn’t so much as suggest it. The oath demanded she pick herself up and head back to the castle, making a second attempt to reignite the nexus point. Her head swam as she rubbed her forehead, wishing she could just think clearly. There was no way to avoid the oath and yet... she looked up at the older woman. If only she knew the truth!
Void could have told her, Emily thought. Why didn’t he?
“I have to stay,” she said. She tried t
o stand up and nearly collapsed. “I can’t leave now.”
“Then you will stay in this room until I give you leave to go,” Lady Barb said. She stood, brushing down her trousers. “I’m going to find Miles, then get you some potions you need to drink. And you will stay here until I’m convinced you’re fit to walk. I’ll tie you to the bed if I have to.”
Emily looked around. “There’s nothing to tie me to.”
“I’m glad you’re recovering your sense of humor,” Lady Barb snapped. “What you did was very dangerous. And you will pay a price if you don’t give yourself time to recover.”
She opened the door. “I mean it,” she added. “Stay put.”
Emily nodded as Lady Barb left, closing the door behind her. Her head ached too much to risk using magic, even something as simple as a privacy spell. She hesitated, then lifted her shirt and looked at her chest. It was covered in nasty bruises that somehow managed to look new and old at the same time. Her legs ached, but she couldn’t convince her fingers to undo her belt and lower her trousers. She suspected she knew what she’d see if she looked. More strange bruises. She felt grimy, even though she’d sponged herself down earlier. Her other self hadn’t had any chance to wash.
There was a knock on the door. Emily covered herself hastily, then raised her voice. “Come.”
Sergeant Miles stepped into the room, his dark eyes calm and composed. “Emily,” he said, softly. That was worrying. The sergeant had no patience with malingerers. If he was being gentle... perhaps her condition was worse than she’d thought. “How are you feeling?”
“Bruised,” Emily said. “I haven’t felt this bad since... since I took your class for the first time.”
“You were a little out of shape,” Sergeant Miles agreed. He smiled, but it didn’t touch his eyes. “How much do you remember?”
“Too much and too little,” Emily said. Some of the memories were already starting to feel like dreams, as insubstantial as a whisper. “It was...”
Oathkeeper (Schooled in Magic Book 20) Page 24
