Necromancer Falling: Book Two of The Mukhtaar Chronicles

by Nat Russo

  “You prefer adda, or adda-ki?” the man asked.

  “That’s an odd question,” Nicolas said.

  “It can tell you a lot about a person.”

  “Why not just ask?”

  “I just did.”

  It was almost as bad as talking to Siek Lamil. Nicolas had a feeling this guy wasn’t going to quit until he got his answer.

  “You’re making a great effort to get on our good side, here,” Nicolas said.

  “Please,” the man said. “I asked politely. Wasn’t I polite?”

  Nicolas glanced at Kaitlyn, who pursed her lips and shrugged.

  The last time Nicolas saw an adda-ki, it wasn’t under the best of circumstances.

  “Adda,” Nicolas said. He shook his head, incredulous that not only had the question been asked, but that he took the time to answer it.

  The man tossed the object in the air, and Nicolas could see it for the first time. A small, silver coin. When the coin fell, the man caught it, flipped it over, and slapped it onto his opposite wrist.

  “Adda it is,” the man said. He seemed relieved, as if a weight had been lifted.

  The man strode past Kagan, nodding as if not to be rude. He either didn’t know Kagan was dead, or he didn’t care. And he smiled at Toridyn!

  “Name’s Aelron,” the man said, extending his hand.

  “Elrond?”

  “Aelron.”

  “Sorry,” Nicolas said, taking the man’s hand in a firm shake.

  “Why is that so festering hard for people?” Aelron asked.

  “Nicolas,” Nicolas said, giving Aelron’s hand one last shake.

  “That’s the second time I’ve heard that name in as many days. Suppose that makes your name more common than mine.”

  “I still haven’t met another Nicolas here.”

  Aelron gave him a quizzical look. “I thought you were a Council magus. Isn’t the new archmage’s name Nicolas?”

  Nicolas had two choices. He could tell this stranger who he was and hope he wasn’t a whack job, or he could play it safe. It was moments like these he wished Mujahid had come along. Mujahid could be crotchety, but he could see around corners Nicolas didn’t know existed.

  Of one thing he was certain; Kagan would have lied. And that was reason enough to tell the truth.

  “It is,” Nicolas said. “I mean, I am. I mean…I’m him. Nicolas Murray.”

  Aelron lost his smile.

  Aelron stepped forward until he was inches away from Nicolas.

  Nicolas prepared a command for the necromantic link, but could Kagan cross the gap fast enough?

  Aelron’s lip trembled as he balled his hand into a fist.

  Take him!

  Kagan lunged.

  Nicolas prepared a bolt of necropotency.

  Aelron dropped to one knee and struck his chest with his balled fist.

  “Archmage,” Aelron said.

  As comprehension dawned, Nicolas ordered Kagan back.

  Sonofabitch! I almost killed the dude!

  “Please,” Nicolas said. “No need for that now. I’m just a guy with a fancy hat.”

  Aelron glanced up at Nicolas as if he were looking at an alien.

  “Well, I don’t have the hat with me,” Nicolas said. “But you get the idea. Go on, now, stand up!”

  Aelron stood and took a step back.

  “We’re headed to Caspardis as well,” Nicolas said. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to anyone. I…had a bad experience there.”

  Aelron took another step back and massaged one of his temples. He pulled the coin from a pocket in his cloak, flipped it, looked at Nicolas with something akin to sadness, then put it back in his cloak.

  “Sure do like playing with your money, don’t you,” Nicolas said.

  The blank expression again.

  “Despise it,” Aelron said. “I despise everything about it.”

  “Okay,” Nicolas said. He shared a glance with Kaitlyn. This guy’s brisket ain’t done smoking yet.

  “Would you mind some company?” Aelron asked.

  “You seem like a nice guy and all,” Nicolas said. “But this is sort of a…family trip.”

  “If I had to guess, I’d say this was your first trip away from the Pinnacle. I can’t, in good conscience, let you make it alone.”

  Kaitlyn gave Nicolas a look that made it clear she wasn’t happy with the idea.

  What do you think? Nicolas asked through the necromantic link.

  An image of a squad of soldiers growing stronger with each new member returned from the link.

  Strength in numbers, huh?

  Kagan seemed to think it was a good idea, and it bothered Nicolas that he agreed.

  A clap of thunder gave Nicolas a jolt.

  Aelron pantomimed catching a droplet of rain. “Rainy season. You could use more hands around camp.”

  “Look, Aelron,” Nicolas said. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just that I don’t trust you.”

  “Let me take point. You can watch me the entire way.”

  Nicolas looked away for a moment. Kaitlyn wasn’t going to like this.

  “All right,” Nicolas said.

  Aelron walked back to the wagon. “There may be some provisions here. I suggest taking the tarp.”

  Another thunderclap emphasized how good an idea that was.

  “Are you sure about this?” Kaitlin asked in a loud whisper. “I’m all for being good Samaritans, but back in Texas we had cell phones, cops, tow trucks. We’re in a place where underwater cities can implode because of bedsheets. We don’t know him.”

  “You saw how he acted when he found out who I am,” Nicolas said. “He thinks I’m some kind of holy man. Doesn’t hurt to have that kind of loyalty around when things go sideways.”

  “On second thought,” Aelron shouted. “I think we can take the whole carriage if you don’t mind moving bodies. You and your friends can stay inside, Archmage. I’ll drive.”

  “See?” Nicolas whispered to Kaitlyn. “He’s helping. Tor, can you give him a hand?”

  Toridyn nodded and Toby followed him to the front of the wagon.

  “Everything’s gonna be fine,” Nicolas said. “Trust me.”

  “Whatever you say…Archmage,” Kaitlyn said. “Just remember this face I’m making when things don’t go as well as you hope they will.”

  Ouch.

  Nicolas followed her to the wagon, silently praying everything would go as well as he hoped.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Coteon’s contemporaries point to the establishment of the necromantic clans as the first verifiable historic event, suggesting it took place some 3000 to 4000 years before the Common Era. They, of course, were not aware of the Scrolls of Tal’mon, nor that they would be unearthed in the Religarian desert three millennia later (120 BRL).

  The scrolls indicate the two earliest verifiable events are as follows:

  *Leras Ardirian founds the Necromantic Council and takes the ancient Pinnacle by force in 150 BRL.

  *Zafir Mukhtaar ascends in 130 BRL to become Zafir Lord Mukhtaar.

  - Grindan, “The Crucible of Religar: On the Patterns of Nomadic Migrations” (10 CE)

  Mujahid, if you’re going to include the writings of a pretentious tosser like Grindan, can you at least sort out the dates for the rest of us? I shouldn’t need a counting frame and two pints of stout to read a calendar.

  - Nuuan

  Brother, I will collapse the ancient dates into two categories: the Common Era (CE) and Before the Common era (BCE). Will this help your alcohol-addled brain to decipher the timeline? Be mindful that our birth date will change to 30 BCE on the new calendar.

  - M

  Several hours into their trip, the rain transformed from a gentle spray to a torrential downpour, making it feel as if the adda were dragging it through the mud, rather than pulling it. Aelron would have rather been inside, but a little water wouldn’t kill him.

  And he needed to
build some good will if he was going to get to the bottom of what happened to his father, Kagan Ardirian.

  Who in the hells was this Nicolas Murray? How had his father died? What were the circumstances under which this usurper had taken the Obsidian Throne?

  This wasn’t about envy over another man sitting upon a throne Aelron felt he deserved. No. Aelron could never be archmage. But he could still have children. And they might have magic. They would be the rightful heirs to the Obsidian Throne.

  The coin had already told him what to do.

  Kill him.

  But Aelron wouldn’t do that just yet. The coin hadn’t told him when to kill the usurper, just that he needed to do it.

  Aelron had a little time. Caspardis was at least another day’s ride away. It would give him the chance to figure out why Nicolas had seemed genuinely upset about the murdered Shandarian soldiers. What usurper to the Obsidian Throne would give a whit about a handful of Shandarian soldiers? And why would this new archmage—if he had stolen the throne—be concerned about the defense of Caspardis? It didn’t matter to the archmage who ruled which nation. The archmage held true power. The only power that mattered. He controlled the temples and bound kings and peasants alike in shackles made from fear.

  Fear for their souls.

  But why would Nicolas ask him to keep his identity secret? Why would he want to give up that weapon of fear?

  No. Aelron wouldn’t kill him just yet. There were too many questions that needed answers.

  A blinding lightning strike silhouetted a ruined building up ahead, and the loudest thunderclap yet shook the wagon. A growl from inside the carriage told Aelron the dog wasn’t happy.

  Aelron wiped the stinging rain out of his eyes. At this rate, they’d have to swim to Caspardis. He guided the adda off to the side of the road, drew the reins in, then wrapped his knuckles on the hatch behind him. It slid open.

  “This is no good!” Aelron said. “We keep moving and we’ll sink! I’m coming inside for a minute.”

  The wagon lurched to a halt, and Aelron climbed down from the driver’s seat and entered the carriage. He settled in next to Kaitlyn, who with a single glance made it clear how she felt about the seating arrangement.

  Aelron didn’t know if she was bad at concealing her dislike for him, or if she just didn’t care.

  “It’s really pissing it down out there,” Aelron said. “Every yard I drive, the wagon slows even more. Better just stop until the worst of it passes. I pulled onto harder ground for now.”

  “How long do these things usually last?” Nicolas asked.

  “Won’t be much longer. But the rain isn’t the problem. It’s the mud that’s going to stop us. I don’t think we’ll be making it to Caspardis.”

  “Tonight,” Kaitlyn said.

  “What?” Aelron asked.

  “We won’t be making it to Caspardis tonight,” Kaitlyn said. “You made it sound like we won’t be making it there at all.”

  “Sorry,” Aelron said. “I took it as implied. Before long this wagon will be up to the doors in mud.”

  “Tight quarters, but we’ll make it work,” Nicolas said.

  “There are ruins not far ahead,” Aelron said. “Maybe half a league. When it calms a bit, I think we can make it at least that far. Might have to drive next to the road, though.”

  “Maybe dead Kagan can drive,” Toridyn said.

  Aelron’s pulse raced. Had he heard the cichlos correctly? Was this his father? Certainly not.

  But Aelron hadn’t seen Kagan since he was five years old. Could it be?

  “This…” Aelron couldn’t seem to start a sentence, much less finish one.

  “Yeah,” Nicolas said. “That Kagan.”

  A torrent of emotion pulled Aelron along by his heart. He ground his teeth as an uncomfortable heat spread under his skin.

  “I’m sure the whole world has questions,” Nicolas said. “But—”

  “He’s dead?” Aelron asked.

  “As a doornail.”

  Forty years of wondering if he’d ever see his family again, and this was the reunion? He couldn’t say he loved Kagan. He never really knew him. But he’d always hoped they could forge some kind of relationship.

  And here he was. Dead. With his murderer sitting right beside him.

  He wanted to lash out. A quick slice of his dagger, and Nicolas would be just as dead. The big cichlos would get involved. Might even kill him. His own dead father would kill him to protect the very man that murdered him. But Aelron didn’t care. Someone had to pay for this tragedy of a family history.

  Mother, dead. Father, dead. The only one who might remain was his baby brother…the newborn he never got a chance to know. But how would he ever find him?

  “You killed him?” Aelron asked.

  “No,” Nicolas said. “But it wasn’t for lack of trying.”

  “Then who?”

  “When the barrier came down, the gods came back. Arin killed him right in front of me. Toridyn was there too. Then, Arin raised him back up and gave him to me as a penitent.”

  “I—” Aelron took a deep breath and exhaled. He wasn’t thinking straight. If he put off his vengeance a little longer, perhaps he could find a way to communicate with his father.

  “I guess what they say about only an Ardirian being archmage is a load of shite, then,” Aelron said.

  Nicolas leaned forward in his seat and folded his hands in front of him.

  “Who are you?” Nicolas asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Who are you?”

  Festering hells! I’m better than this!

  Aelron leaned back. His moment of emotion may have been enough to give up the lie. He had to diffuse the situation.

  “I didn’t mean to pry, Archmage,” Aelron said. “I can’t pretend to understand the world of politics, its arbitrary protocols and niceties of court. But what are the odds, right? I mean…Kagan Ardirian sitting right here in front of me. Dead, of all things.”

  Nicolas leaned back. He seemed less tense. Maybe he bought it.

  “As odd as it is for you, imagine how it is for me,” Nicolas said. “He’s my birth father.”

  Aelron’s chest tightened as his mind raced. Nicolas was his brother? Nicolas was the newborn?

  But the coin wanted him dead! Why?

  “You said your name was Murray?” Aelron asked.

  Nicolas nodded. “It is…and it’s a long story. But don’t let the name fool you. Unfortunately, I’m an Ardirian by blood. Like I said…he’s my birth father.”

  A bright flash of lightning lit the carriage interior, followed by a series of thunderclaps so loud, it was as if Arin and Zubuxo had become bowling partners.

  “Why unfortunately?” Aelron asked.

  “Sorry?” Nicolas asked.

  “I’m just curious,” Aelron said. “You implied being an Ardirian wasn’t a good thing.”

  “You been living under a rock?”

  “My life of late has been somewhat…ascetic.”

  “What do you see when you look at this guy?” Nicolas pointed a thumb at Kagan.

  “Like I said, I wasn’t trying to pry.”

  “Now I’m curious. Tell me what you see.”

  Aelron looked down for a moment, then turned his gaze toward Kagan.

  “I see an old man living out a rather ignominious existence,” Aelron said. “Why in the Hells would his own god kill him?”

  “He lied to the world for decades, not giving a damn what or who he destroyed.” Nicolas faced Kagan. “Tell him what you did, you smug bastard.”

  And Kagan told his story, from the murder of Yotto in an effort to protect his power, to the construction of the Great Barrier and all the evils it caused.

  “You left out the part where you tried to murder your own son,” Nicolas said. He faced Aelron. “Within ten minutes of meeting him, he tried to kill me.”

  “Meeting him?” Aelron said. “I don’t understand.”

  “Like
I said, it’s a long story.”

  Had Aelron gotten it all wrong? Nicolas wasn’t a usurper at all.

  It grew quieter outside as the rain died down.

  “Looks like it’s slowed enough,” Aelron said. “I’ll take us to those ruins. Maybe we can find a dry spot where I can whip something up with those provisions.”

  “You cook?” Nicolas asked.

  “I recently discovered I have some skill with a ladle and stew pot.”

  Nicolas nodded as Aelron opened the carriage door and climbed out.

  Aelron had gotten his answers.

  But the number of questions had grown larger.

  When the carriage door closed behind Aelron, Kaitlyn scooted a few inches away from Toridyn.

  “Was it my deodorant?” Toridyn asked.

  Kaitlyn gave Toridyn an incredulous stare, and Nicolas chuckled.

  “Something Nicolas used to say,” Toridyn said. He faced Nicolas. “You ever going to tell me what deodorant is?”

  “You put it under your arms, you oaf,” Nicolas said. “To stop the smell.”

  “Why would it smell under my arms? That’s not where the smell comes from.”

  “We don’t need the details,” Nicolas said.

  “I don’t trust him,” Kaitlyn said.

  “He might not have smelly pits like we do, but—”

  “Not him,” Kaitlyn said. “Him.” She pointed through the carriage wall toward the driver seat as the carriage lurched forward on the muddy road. “And what’s with the OCD behavior with that coin of his?”

  “I never said I trusted him.”

  “You just told him everything. How do you know what he’s going to do with that information?”

  “There’s just something…” Nicolas stopped.

  “What?” Kaitlyn asked.

  “I don’t know. I can’t explain it. There’s something about this guy that seems….I’ve known evil people, Kait. He’s many things, I’m sure. But evil ain’t one of them.”

  “Being murdered on a dark, muddy road leaves you just as dead no matter how nice your killer is,” Kaitlyn said.