Necromancer Falling: Book Two of The Mukhtaar Chronicles

by Nat Russo

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, places, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Nat Russo

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Published by Erindor Press

  www.erindorpress.com

  Cover Art and Design:

  Atanas Stoykov

  CHAPTER ONE

  1In the days before the Foundation; in the days before days…

  2The Power emerged from the darkness and gave life to the multiverse. 3But life was not in its proper place, and chaos reigned. 4Chaos created a seed of wickedness and planted it next to the Tree of Life. 5The seed took root and grew alongside life, becoming one with The Power’s gift.

  - The Mukhtaar Chronicles, attributed to the prophet Habakku

  Origines Multiversi, Emergentiae 1:1-5

  Chaos is mentioned several times in the Origines as a being separate from The Power, and seemingly equal in divinity. Ancient theologians put forth the notion of two creator gods. I am more inclined to view Chaos as one half of a dual nature within The Power itself. Lord Fahad is in full agreement with me on this matter.

  - Coteon of the Steppes, “Coteonic Commentaries on the Origines Multiversi” (circa 520 RL)

  The reference here is to Fahad Lord Mukhtaar Morcos, a contemporary and close confidant of Coteon who appears in more detail later in the Chronicles.

  - Mujahid Mukhtaar, Private Commentaries, 45 CE

  Nicolas Murray tumbled through the void. It had been nice to be back in Texas, even if only for a few minutes, but he couldn’t stay. Erindor was going to need him now more than it had when his birth father, Kagan, had been archmage.

  And that was saying something. Kagan had been one evil bastard. He’d started a war among the Three Kingdoms to keep eyes focused away from his use of life magic—a magic whose true purpose was to aid in childbirth. Kagan had found a way to channel the magic through the Orb of Arin to construct his perverse Great Barrier; an impenetrable dome over the continent that kept a formidable enemy at bay, but slowly drained life from the Three Kingdoms over the course of four decades.

  Nicolas had destroyed the Orb of Arin, which brought the gods of Erindor back to their rightful place. But when the orb shattered, it brought down Kagan’s Great Barrier as well.

  Kagan built that dome for a reason, and I went and tore the thing down. What’s waiting outside it?

  Though Kagan had been misguided, an army of Barathosians had been about to invade when the barrier went up. And Nicolas had no way of knowing if they were still out there.

  Whatever was out there, worrying wasn’t going to change anything.

  Nicolas focused on another presence tumbling through the void with him. He needed to take his mind off problems he didn’t have solutions for.

  Kaitlyn.

  Her presence was comforting, and though they had no form, he could feel her and Toby as if they were touching him.

  He had so much to tell her. So much to show.

  And there’d be a lot of work to do when they arrived. The Pinnacle sanctuary was in ruins, largely because he’d blown out an entire wall when he destroyed the orb. He’d need some rest before getting started. And people were going to have questions.

  He had questions of his own, though.

  What was he supposed to do now that he was the religious leader of Erindor? He was basically the pope of another world.

  Speaking of which, how the hell did this new religion jive with his old one? If he told the nuns about this, they’d strangle him with a rosary! How could he go around acting like the pope and take himself seriously?

  Aw hell. They’re gonna make me wear some kind of funny hat, aren’t they?

  Kaitlyn had said he looked like Jesus when he arrived back in Texas. Hopefully they had razors in Erindor.

  He didn’t want to look like Jesus.

  No offense, Lord. You’re not a bad lookin’ guy, it’s just…the beard don’t work for me.

  He felt himself slowing, but there were no visual landmarks in the void. Only blackness.

  The blackness soon changed to a dull gray, then white, then disappeared entirely, leaving them standing on a marble floor, surrounded by columns, in the middle of the most sacred room of the Pinnacle; the sanctuary.

  They were in Erindor.

  A presence tingled in the back of his mind, like someone gently touching his scalp, as the necromantic link he shared with Kagan reasserted itself. When the gods had returned, the God Arin took Kagan’s life and bound him to Nicolas as an undead penitent in punishment for his atrocities.

  “I think I’m gonna be sick,” Kaitlyn said.

  Nicolas rubbed her back. “That’s normal. Take it slow.”

  Toby dropped his gatorpickle toy—named so because it looked like a cross between an alligator and pickle—let out a whining yawn, and wagged his tail as he stretched on the marble floor.

  Kaitlyn grabbed her stomach and doubled over.

  “It’ll pass, once you eat.”

  He looked around, wondering why they were alone.

  Something wasn’t right.

  The sanctuary floor had been swept clean. All shards of the broken Orb of Arin—destroyed less than an hour ago in the battle for the Pinnacle—were gone. An uncomfortable-looking stone chair, wide enough for two people to sit side by side, sat in front of a panoramic window on the opposite wall. A wall that shouldn’t be there.

  But that wasn’t the most unexpected thing he saw.

  Floating several feet off the ground was a complete, unbroken, orb of power. The orb’s multi-hued light cascaded over its surface like liquid, divided in places by swirls of energy that drifted away from the orb in misty vortices.

  Nicolas flinched as a peal of thunder broke somewhere above. He looked through the window at the voluminous gray clouds gathering on the horizon

  “What the hell is going on?” Nicolas said.

  “Holy one!” Tithian said as he entered the sanctuary.

  Tithian looked different. The mother of all battles had just taken place, and Tithian decided to change clothes? What about the wounded? What about the dead cichlos and Three Kingdoms soldiers? What about the families of the Council magi who lived here at the Pinnacle?

  “Where were you?” Tithian said. “You never sent a message. We’ve been frantic! The Council is in a shambles. They need their archmage.”

  “Their what?” Kaitlyn said.

  “Long story,” Nicolas said. “Magic was learned, bad guys were beat down, I became the pope—”

  “You what?”

  An expression of disbelief crossed Tithian’s face as he looked at Kaitlyn.

  Toby picked up his toy, ran over to Tithian, and jumped up on the man’s thighs. Tithian’s expression changed to one of sympathy, and he bent to scratch behind Toby’s ears.

  “What happened to your dog?” Tithian asked.

  “How the hell did this happen so fast?” Nicolas asked. “I’m gone ten minutes and you rebuild the place?”

  “Ten minutes? Holy one, I haven’t seen you in six months.”

  “Two things,” Nicolas
said. “First, I told you less than an hour ago to knock it off with the Holy One business. And secondly, what the hell?”

  “Listen to me, Holy…Archmage,” Tithian said. “If we don’t present you to the Council soon, there will be problems. I cannot hold them together any longer. They’re demanding to see you.”

  “But we destroyed the Council,” Nicolas said. “You were there.”

  “I told you! It’s been—”

  “Tithian, slow the hell down and tell me what you’re talking about. What’s going on?”

  Tithian rubbed his forehead. “In your absence, the Barathosian Armada appeared off the coast of Dar Rodon.”

  “Remind me. Dar what?”

  “Dar Rodon. Capital of the Religarian Empire. Far to the east. Nearly a hundred and fifty leagues.”

  “So it’s true?” Nicolas asked. “Kagan was right?”

  Nicolas thought he’d saved the world by bringing Kagan’s barrier down. Had he eliminated one threat only to expose the Three Kingdoms to an even deadlier one?

  “The Barathosians were waiting all that time?” Nicolas asked.

  The necromantic link that tied Nicolas to Kagan became stronger when he mentioned Kagan’s name. Kagan was close.

  “You did what needed to be done,” Tithian said, tapping Nicolas on the chest. “What none of us were capable of doing. And no, they weren’t waiting. They materialized off the coast. No sailing, no slow build up of forces. Just an…appearance. The entire armada, as far as we can tell.”

  “Six months,” Nicolas said. “How is that possible?”

  “I suppose it shouldn’t come as a surprise,” Tithian said.

  “Why not?” Nicolas said.

  “For a start, you were born forty years ago but aged no more than twenty. I’d say time misbehaves around you far more than it misbehaves around others.”

  Kaitlyn put her hand on Nicolas’s arm. She looked like she was about to throw up. “If he was born forty years ago, but only aged twenty, then why did time speed up when he came back here? When he left me, he was back within a few seconds. But when he left you, he was gone six months. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “No,” Tithian said. “It doesn’t.”

  “What are we going to do if they invade?” Nicolas said. “Kagan raised that damned barrier because he didn’t think the Three Kingdoms would survive an attack.”

  “There have already been minor skirmishes in southern Religar,” Tithian said. “I think they’ve been testing the Empire’s defenses.”

  Kagan entered the sanctuary, gripping the wooden handle of a straw broom. He swept the floor as he moved from side to side, criss-crossing around the room. He wore the same black zucchetto-style skull cap that Nicolas remembered. A red scapular—trimmed with black—wrapped around his shoulders and covered his white robes. Though he was undead and pasty, his corpse hadn’t decayed. He smelled only of incense and the dust his broom was pushing around. It must have something to do with how soon after his death he’d been raised. He swept the broom across Kaitlyn’s path, hitting her shoes in the process.

  “Excuse you,” Kaitlyn said with a surprised expression.

  “Don’t mind him,” Nicolas said. “He’s a little…”

  “Evil?” Tithian said.

  “I was going to go with assholish, but that will work.”

  Kaitlyn turned and gazed at the orb.

  “How did that thing get here?” Nicolas asked. “Did Arin return?”

  Tithian bowed his head briefly when Nicolas named the god. “We waited for weeks before starting reconstruction on the sanctuary. We wanted your input. But when the weather started to turn, we could wait no longer. Shortly after the wall was complete, the orb simply appeared. A similar orb appeared at Pilgrim’s Landing, and we’ve had reports from Aquonome that an orb materialized in the cichlos temple as well.”

  “Three orbs?” Nicolas asked. “Arin promised two.”

  Tithian had to jump backward as Kagan hit his boots with the broom.

  Kaitlyn yelled as she drew close to the orb. She put her hands on her head and doubled over.

  Nicolas and Tithian rushed to her side and helped her into the nearby stone chair.

  “This is my fault,” Nicolas said. “I should have told you to sit down as soon as we got here. The hunger is normal.”

  “The hunger I can deal with,” Kaitlyn said. Her voice was strained. “It’s the knives in my temples I’m worried about.”

  “Tithian,” Nicolas said, “do I have a room here? Chambers or something like that?”

  “You do.”

  “Can you help me with her?”

  “I’ll be okay,” Kaitlyn said as she stood. “It’s Tithian, right? I’m Kait.”

  She extended her hand to Tithian and doubled over once more. Tithian tried to help her back to the seat, but she stopped him.

  “I shouldn’t have stood so fast,” Kaitlyn said.

  Nicolas placed his arm around her waist to steady her balance.

  “Can you have some food brought to…wherever we’re going?” Nicolas asked.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Tithian said. “You should change into something cleaner. Those Arinian robes look like they’ve been through a battle.”

  “They have been.”

  Tithian chuckled. “That’s right. Ten minutes, you say. You’ll find clothes in your chambers, including formal robes appropriate for the ritual tomorrow morning.”

  “What ritual? No, no, no. I don’t need any ritual. I need rest. Kait needs rest. I met my birth father an hour ago and he tried to kill me. Give me a break over here!”

  “Have you not heard anything I’ve said? The Council has demanded an installation ceremony. Now that you’re back, I can prove you actually exist. They need leadership. We all do. Half of them think I usurped Kagan’s throne, and the other half think Lord Mujahid did. We need to quell the rumors.”

  Nicolas groaned but nodded. “We’re going to need something less…blue jeans and Converse for Kaitlyn to wear.”

  “I’ll have a selection brought to your chambers for Lady Kaitlyn.”

  Kagan hit Tithian with the broom’s handle as he swept past him.

  “And can you please tell him to stop?” Tithian asked.

  “Stop what?”

  “He’s been sweeping around the clock since you sent him for a broom six months ago!”

  Nicolas shook his head and sent the order through the necromantic link. But part of him couldn’t help thinking it served Kagan right.

  “I don’t know what to do if the Barathosians decide to attack for real,” Nicolas said. “I hope you have some ideas.”

  “Perhaps,” Tithian said. But he turned away without continuing.

  “Perhaps what?” Nicolas asked.

  Tithian faced Nicolas, but he seemed uncertain.

  “Perhaps what?” Nicolas repeated.

  “In your absence, we discovered what I believe may be the protoforges,” Tithian said.

  Nicolas waited several moments for an explanation that wasn’t coming. “From now on, just assume I’m going to ask what whenever you talk.”

  “When you brought the Great Barrier down, there was one final upheaval of the land. A terrible one. It struck Tildem the worst. But that’s not important. What’s important is what we found…buried deep within the mountains of Tildem.”

  “I still don’t know what a protoforge is.”

  Tithian furrowed his brow as if Nicolas had said he didn’t know what a door was.

  “Apologies,” Tithian said. “I sometimes forget you…”

  “Don’t know jack about Erindor?”

  Tithian frowned. “Jack who?”

  “The protoforge things, Tithian.”

  “The protoforges are spoken of in the Origines Multiversi, a set of books written by the ancient prophet Habakku. Those books tell us how Erindor was created. What life was like millennia ago. What the gods expect of people. And so much more. They even tell us of the first Mukhtaar
Lords.”

  “We have a similar book back on Earth. A few, if I’m being honest. But you’re saying you found them in Tildem?”

  “We can’t be certain, but…”

  “But you’re certain?”

  “Certainly!”

  “Well what are they?” Nicolas asked.

  Tithian leaned forward. “Simply put, they were the molds in which the first Orbs of Power were formed.”

  “Why is this important? Don’t get me wrong. I’m an archaeologist. I understand the importance of relics. But what’s the connection to the Barathosians?”

  “Oh my god, Nick,” Kaitlyn said. “Tithian just told you they found the thing that makes those things.” She pointed at the orb. “By the transitive property, those protoforges sound really powerful and important.”

  “Okay! You don’t need to be all—”

  “Knives in my temples, remember?”

  Tithian made a placating gesture with his hand. “I’m going to have the fragments tested. If these are protoforge fragments, they may serve our purposes in Dar Rodon. If the Origines is correct, they can be unpredictable. And if we can’t predict what they’ll do, then neither can the Barathosians…”

  “Now tell me the part you left out.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Dammit, Tithian,” Nicolas said. “I’m not trying to interrogate you, but I don’t understand why you’re holding back. We’ve got a problem that needs solving, and I can’t do this by myself.”

  “That’s right,” Tithian said. He glanced at Kagan, who stood silently next to the Orb of Power. “In your absence, I’d forgotten just how unlike your father you are.”

  “Birth father,” Nicolas said.

  Tithian nodded. “I meant no offense, Archmage.”

  “Dammit all!” Nicolas had had enough. He needed an adviser, not a subordinate. “You’re not offending me. And if your idea about these protoforge fragments doesn’t pan out, we’ll try something else. I’m not going to get pissed off because you tried something that didn’t work. Just tell me what you need to tell me. I’m not Kagan.”

  Tithian grinned. “You most certainly are not. Right, then. When I received word from my contacts in Tildem, they had no idea what they’d uncovered. But I suspected. So I attempted to use a translocation orb to teleport to Hiboran—that’s a city in the far west of Tildem, close to the mountain range where the fragments were uncovered.”