The Necromancer's Apprentice

by Icy Sedgwick

  The dean waved away Jyx’s unspoken protests of innocence. His stomach churned as he thought about what would come next. Suspension? Expulsion? Worse? It would kill his mother if he were kicked out of the Academy. Jyx tried not to gasp when he thought of leaving the Academy and its delicious library behind. He couldn’t stomach the idea of going to one of the institutions in the Underground City.

  “Your line of thinking is correct, Mr Faire. Normally such transgressions would be punishable with expulsion. There is a reason that we keep you at a certain level. We need to be sure that you are mature enough to handle the magick to which we grant you access.” The dean’s expression softened, and warmth crept back into the flames in his eyes. Jyx continued to stare, panic gripping and squeezing his stomach. Acid burned at the back of his throat as he fought to control his thoughts. Telepathy on students was supposed to be forbidden.

  “Wh-what will you do?”

  “Mr Faire, you are an exceptional student. The very fact that you have been able to study this magick, and understand it for the most part, tells me that you have sought this knowledge not out of arrogance, but simply impatience. Perhaps there is something I can do to remedy this yearning of yours.”

  The dean snapped his fingers and the Wolfkin released its grip on Jyx’s shoulder. It stomped across the dean’s office and opened a door behind the desk. The door was set flush in the smooth wooden panelling of the wall and Jyx hadn’t noticed it when he first entered the office. A tall woman, taller even than the dean, swept into the office. She wore jet-black robes, devoid of any markings or devices, and a yellow bone held a pile of black hair on top of her head. She might have been beautiful if her features hadn’t been so severe. A raven sat on her right shoulder.

  “Your Excellency,” the dean said.

  He rose and bowed to the newcomer. She waved him away and sat in his chair. The dean stood several feet behind, his eyes fixed on the floor. Jyx stared at the woman, unsure as to whether he should stand in greeting. “Excellency” implied someone of rank—many more ranks above the dean.

  “Jyximus Faire, I presume?”

  The woman didn’t so much look at him as through him. Her pale blue eyes reminded Jyx of the wolves in the City Zoological Gardens. Her stare carried the weight of the ages, and Jyx gripped the arms of his chair, convinced he would suffocate if he maintained eye contact.

  “Y-yes.”

  “Good. I am Eufame Delsenza.”

  Jyx jerked in his seat and stared at the dean, searching for confirmation of her words. The necromancer general was here, in the Academy? The dean gave a tiny nod, and focused his attention on a spot on the floor.

  “You’ve heard of me. Good. Then you know that I have been recently hired for a rather large job.” Eufame’s voice skated along the edge of a razor—buzzing decay on one side, and frozen winter on the other.

  “The coronation.”

  “Indeed. Our illustrious boy prince is to become king, and he has a somewhat fanciful notion that the best way to cement the commencement of his rule is by parading around his ancestors as performing monkeys.”

  No one spoke ill of the royal family, not publicly, at least. Besides, Jyx thought the new king’s idea was marvellous. What better way to announce you were now in charge than by having the whole royal line present at the coronation? He was surprised no one had ever thought of it before.

  “Oh, close your mouth, boy. I speak as I find, and if you’re to be my apprentice, you shall have to get used to that fact.”

  “Your apprentice?”

  “Yes. My little friend here has been observing you for some time, and I was particularly impressed by your choice of text last night.” Eufame gestured to the raven. Jyx couldn’t swear to it, but he was sure it nodded at him. Was it the same raven from the canals? “The Dominantur Umbras is fascinating stuff, is it not?”

  “It is, ma’am. I really enjoyed it.”

  “Please, call me Miss Delsenza. Ma’am is reserved for old people.”

  Jyx frowned. His mother had told him terror stories of Eufame Delsenza when he was little. She was at least four hundred years old, and she’d held the position of necromancer general for the past three hundred of those. The overcrowding in the graveyards in the Underground City made fears around the necromancer legendary. No one wanted to be one of her “experiments”.

  “Why have you been watching me?” Questions flooded his mind but Jyx forced himself to ask something relevant.

  “My last apprentice didn’t work out. I’ve needed a new one for some time but as I’m sure you can appreciate, I can’t simply hire the first person I find. The dean here has been gracious enough to help me in the past. I normally wouldn’t look at anyone below a fourth year but I think you could do well.”

  “I’d have to drop out of the Academy?”

  “Yes, Jyx, you would, but I’m offering you an apprenticeship within the House of the Long Dead. Do you know what that could lead to?”

  Jyx shook his head.

  “Well, your prospects, should you remain here, are essentially restricted to freelance work, unless you choose to enter one of the conglomerates and work in their alchemical divisions. But I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that the House of the Long Dead is attached to the City Archives, and we have links with the Mages of the Autumn Gloaming…”

  Eufame left the words, and their promise, hanging in the still air of the dean’s office. Jyx smiled, thinking of all the knowledge just waiting to be explored. Even better, a position with the necromancer general herself would have to lead to some kind of new accommodation for his family. Perhaps they could finally leave the Underground City. A tiny voice in the back of his head voiced caution, but Jyx stifled it beneath excitement at the prospect of seeing the City Archives. All that knowledge had to be worth the risk of working for the necromancer general.

  “I’ll do it.”

  “Excellent. I knew you’d accept.”

  Eufame stood and swept across the room. The dean still refused to make eye contact. She’d almost reached the door by the time Jyx found his voice.

  “How did you know I’d say yes?”

  “Because you’d be a fool not to.”

  4

  The carriage rattled along the cobbled avenue towards the House of the Long Dead, which stood on the outskirts of the Upper City, next door to the vast Necropolis. Jyx stared out of the window as several miles of graveyard slipped past. He tried to pick out details but one broken headstone looked much like another.

  “The only thing older than the Necropolis is the Palace,” Eufame said. She sat beside him, but Jyx couldn’t see her face in the depths of her hood.

  “I’ve never seen it before.”

  “Dean Whittaker leads me to believe your family resides in the Underground City?”

  “That’s right. My mother and my brothers and sisters live on Benefactor’s Close. I wasn’t allowed to tell my mother the good news.”

  Jyx scowled. Dean Whittaker’s insistence that he leave the Academy immediately rather soured his excitement at being chosen as Eufame’s new apprentice.

  “Dean Whittaker has about as much emotion as my left boot, which is ironic since I know he says the same about me. No matter. I will have a note sent to your family to explain your new position, as I imagine your mother may worry when you do not return home this evening. If you pass your probationary period, then you can invite them to stay in one of our residences.”

  “One of…”

  “Of course, Jyx. We have several residences. You yourself will stay with me, but I have properties all over the city. I am sure your siblings would love the open spaces out at Marsh House.”

  “You’d really let all of them live there?”

  “Indeed. The apprentice of the necromancer general holds a higher station than an Academy student, and it really wouldn’t do for his family to be holed up in a dingy tenement in the Underground City.”

  Jyx thought he heard laughter at the edges of Eufame
’s tone, but said nothing in reply. He didn’t want to risk her withdrawing her offer. He hoped she would let him write the note to his family himself. His mother would have to fetch one of the judges to read it, but she’d recognise his handwriting all the same.

  A large building shimmered into view through the afternoon heat haze. It crouched beside the Necropolis like a panther waiting to pounce, all black marble and Gothic arches. Stained glass windows studded its sleek exterior, and gargoyles topped the towers that punctured the clear blue sky. Its shining wall reflected an image of the Necropolis, sending the image of the cemetery into infinity.

  The carriage bounced along the cobbles alongside the behemoth of a building and turned left onto a paved road. They passed under an arch between two massive statues of jackal-headed men, and pulled into a circular courtyard. A fountain took centre stage in the yard, cast in black wrought iron and surrounded by black marble. Dark red liquid played where Jyx expected to see water.

  “That isn’t blood. It’s just coloured to look like it,” Eufame said, noticing Jyx’s pained expression as she turned to look at him.

  “Why?”

  “People expect a certain visual aesthetic to the House of the Long Dead. We like to give them what they want. Besides, we find it amusing. And, by ‘we’, I mean that I find it amusing.”

  Jyx looked away, unable to decide which was the more frightening—the blood-red fountain, or Eufame’s attempt at a smile.

  The carriage door opened, and a white-skinned Wolfkin clad in the black robes of the House appeared. It held open the door as Eufame stepped down into the courtyard. Jyx tried to emulate her smooth grace, but his foot caught the hem of his robe and he tumbled down the steps on his bottom. Eufame didn’t notice, and strode away across the yard. The Wolfkin seized Jyx’s collar and yanked him upright, gesturing for him to follow.

  Jyx trotted after Eufame, conscious of the sheer scale of the house. The building rose for several storeys above him, each stained glass window separated by more statues. He recognised some of the ancient deities from his clandestine readings, but some of the figures both confused and repulsed him. He knew the house practiced arcane magick and dealt with beings far older than those the Academy would recognise, but Jyx gulped. For the first time since the age of six, the age he first discovered he could command the cold ashes in the fireplace, he felt out of his depth.

  A gathering of men clustered near the doorway. One of them held the reins of an imposing horse, its bronze coat dull in the shadow cast by the building, while another held a vast bouquet of glass flowers. Hope and expectation lit up their faces when they saw Eufame. A short man with the shaved head of a cleric stepped forward, his robes of state flapping around his ankles.

  “Miss Delsenza! We have awaited your arrival—”

  “Save your breath, Dumier. I am uninterested and unmoved by your offers. You may tell Berelsine the same thing so that he may cease sending you cretins to harass me.” Eufame twisted her lips into a snarl, echoed in the low growl of the Wolfkin at her side.

  “But Miss Delsenza!”

  Eufame turned on her heel and strode up the wide staircase towards a tall set of doors. Scarlet flames blazed in braziers either side of the doors, yet Jyx felt no warmth as he passed. He shuddered as he crossed the threshold, aware that a pair of Wolfkin guarded the doorway on the inside.

  “Who were they?” Jyx looked back towards the door. The cluster of men jostled for position, peering through the gap between the doors as they swung shut.

  “Suitors, Jyx.”

  “Marriage suitors?” Jyx looked at Eufame, trying to envision a man who would want to marry such a forbidding woman. She was so different from his warm, round mother. Jyx couldn’t imagine Eufame bending over a cauldron of nourishing broth, or cradling a sleeping child with one arm while bouncing a toddler on her knee.

  “What else? However, city law prevents a married woman from holding any form of high office.” Eufame peeled her long gloves from her hands and dropped them into a waiting bowl held by a grovelling servant. The little man scurried away towards a small doorway.

  “So you’d have to give up your job?”

  “Being necromancer general is not simply a job, Jyx. It’s a vocation, and one at which I happen to be very good. No, none of those men out there actually wish to marry me. That silly old fool over at the Hall of Records wants my position and keeps paying suitors to try to entice me. Although I rather suspect the idea was not his own. There are others who would see me out of office.” Eufame glared at the doors as if her very stare could penetrate the thick wood. Jyx wouldn’t be entirely surprised if it did.

  He stood away from the door, one foot in the pool of light thrown onto the floor by the brazier. Jyx looked around the atrium, aware that none of his fellow Academy students even knew what the house looked like. Some of them even disbelieved its very existence. Several storeys above them, light passed through the stained panes of a glass dome, throwing flashes of colour across the marble floor. Paintings of jackal-headed men covered the walls, and a band of glyphs ran around the room at head height. Jyx couldn’t read the language.

  “Anyway, Jyx, enough of such unpleasantries. Welcome to the House of the Long Dead! This is our entrance hall, but I expect you figured that part out for yourself.” Eufame gestured to the square, lofty room.

  “Whereabouts do you work, Miss Delsenza?”

  “Downstairs. That’s where the magick happens. The upper chambers are mostly residential, administrative, or for entertaining.”

  “Entertaining?”

  “Yes. Strange as it may seem, we host the occasional formal gathering here, as well as a few informal get-togethers. We hold a lot of cultural cache with the government, and we have a lot of visiting scholars. Once you’ve been here a while and you’re used to my way of working, I’ll take you to the archives.”

  “Visiting scholars?”

  “Yes. We hold an awful lot of knowledge within our walls. But it’ll be a while before you’ll get to see them. Or the archives. There will be no midnight excursions to peruse our books. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” Jyx nodded, more interested in the strange wall paintings.

  “I mean it, Master Faire. At the Academy, the worst punishment you could face would be expulsion. Well, you’re not at the Academy anymore.”

  Jyx followed Eufame’s gaze across the entrance hall. Streaks of white disrupted the smooth black marble of the floor at the bottom of the grand staircase. Eufame made a dismissive gesture with her bony fingers. Jyx crossed the hall, an inexplicable ball of dread growing in his stomach. He reached the white streaks and gasped. A skeleton was embedded in the floor. He looked back at Eufame, searching her face for answers. A smirk hovered around her mouth.

  “Meet the last apprentice who disobeyed orders.”

  Jyx stared at Eufame. The necromancer general looked at the skeleton and back at Jyx. Her pointed eyebrow mirrored the arched window behind her.

  A paw planted firmly in between Jyx’s shoulders. The Wolfkin shoved him across the hall. Eufame turned and headed for a wide doorway set into the wall. A jackal head sculpture protruded from the door arch, its mouth open in a roar. Or a scream—Jyx couldn’t tell which.

  “Come along, Jyx. You knew life here would be different. Do as I say, learn well and work hard, and you’ll be fine. You’ve shown a lot of promise so far.”

  Eufame snapped her fingers and the door swung inwards. Jyx watched her disappear into the gloom beyond and gulped. He glanced back at the main entrance, guarded by the twin Wolfkin. Another shove in his back sent him stumbling towards the door.

  A stone spiral staircase led into suffocating gloom. Jyx clung to the handrail on the way down, conscious of the Wolfkin behind him, and the skeleton set into marble upstairs.

  “Come along, Jyx. Don’t dawdle on your first day.” Eufame’s voice echoed up the stairwell, hollow reverberations against cold stone. Jyx couldn’t decide if the harsh edge to her tone wa
s admonishment or amusement.

  Jyx stumbled as he reached the bottom of the staircase. Purple flames burned in braziers on each wall in the tiny anteroom. Figures, painted flat in profile, cavorted in narrow bands across the walls. A pair of giant Wolfkin portraits adorned the wall either side of the archway opposite the staircase. Jyx assumed they were Wolfkin—they had the same canine heads and muscular human bodies. Yet unlike the Wolfkin behind him, the figures wore elaborate headdresses and simple loincloths instead of the armour favoured by Eufame’s guards.

  The Wolfkin behind him shoved him towards the arch. A blast of cold air hit Jyx in the face when he stepped through into the vaulted room beyond. The room stretched far away into the gloom, and more braziers flickered from the columns holding the vaulted ribs aloft. A gallery ran around the Vault near the ceiling, granting access to the glass cabinets of potions and salves that lined the walls. Doorways were hewn into the stone walls, the rooms beyond cold and dark. Jyx stared into the empty portal to his right, and imagined what could lurk in the depths of its shadows.

  “Welcome to the Vault.”

  Eufame stood before him, and gestured to the cavernous room. More painted figures adorned the walls below the gallery, interspersed with the same strange glyphs Jyx had seen upstairs. A narrow table stretched along one wall, groaning beneath the weight of glass vials and tubes. Braziers burned beneath some of the flasks, giving off coloured smoke and intoxicating fumes.

  “Is this where you work?” Jyx stared at the apparatus. The only time he’d seen a set-up like that was an engraving in a dusty book about alchemy.

  “It is, yes. The House of the Long Dead occupies far more space than the building above you. Admin and entertaining happens upstairs, but we do all of the actual work down here in the Vault for containment purposes. As you can tell, it’s a lot colder down here, but it makes it easier to work our magick on the bodies. That, and it stops them decaying before we can finish our work,” Eufame replied.