Necromancer Falling: Book Two of The Mukhtaar Chronicles

by Nat Russo

  The Arinwool in Aelron’s pocket heated up, and something rebounded off of it. Someone must have tried using magic on him.

  The adda hitch snapped, and the adda scattered into the field to the north.

  Nicolas spun and grabbed Aelron by the wrist. A moment later, Aelron felt himself being dragged out into the field with Nicolas behind the adda, leaving a wake of mud behind them.

  After a few near misses between dwarf trees and Aelron’s tail bone, the adda stopped.

  Nicolas dusted himself off and stood.

  Aelron glanced back at the carriage.

  It was all but demolished, and the wagon had rolled over, dumping everything into the mud.

  Nicolas ran to the carriage. “Kait!” he yelled. “Kait!”

  “Here!”

  “Is Toby with you?”

  “Yeah. He’s fine. A little scared.”

  “Toridyn and the others?”

  Kaitlyn poked her head out through the side of the carriage, which was now the top. “Everyone’s okay. I think Robert may have a broken leg, though.”

  It took them several minutes to climb out from the wreckage, and Aelron had to help Nicolas with Robert. When everyone was accounted for, Nicolas approached Aelron.

  “What do you know about the Shandarian Rangers?” Nicolas asked.

  Aelron did his best to suppress the surprise that wrapped around his spine and set his pulse racing.

  “What’s to know?” Aelron said. “They protect the union. They can’t tell a falsehood.”

  “They can’t lie. Huge difference.”

  “They have eyes like an adda-ki and ride the very same as mounts.”

  “And magi can’t use magic on or against them.”

  Aelron looked away. This situation was complicated enough without his relationship to the rangers coming out.

  Nicolas stepped closer. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “About the rangers?”

  “About you.”

  “We’ve only just met, Archmage.”

  “I’m not an idiot. I know the effect of Arinwool when I feel it.”

  Festering hells!

  “What’s Arinwool?” Aelron asked.

  Nicolas rubbed his forehead. “My concern is to get these people safely to Caspardis. All of these people. If you do anything that runs counter to that purpose, I’ll find the deepest, darkest pit at the Pinnacle and have them prepare a sleeping pallet for you.”

  That’s the archmage I was waiting for.

  Aelron raised his hands. “I’m just here to help.”

  “Nick,” Kaitlyn said from the other side of the carriage. “I think you need to see this.”

  Nicolas and Aelron jogged around to Kaitlyn’s side and found her kneeling next to a large hole in the dirt road. Dirt and rock were scattered away from the hole, as if something had burst its way out from underneath.

  The hole was precisely were Kagan would have been standing at the time the carriage rolled.

  “This is bizarre,” Kaitlyn said. She pulled a small statue from the hole.

  It was a statuette of a man. The man had a wicked grin on his face, and his arms were folded behind his back. It looked familiar…

  Jacobson! It’s the very same statue Jacobson had held!

  “Why would someone bury this in the road?” Kaitlyn asked.

  Nicolas took the statuette from her. His expression grew dark; eyes narrowing, mouth curling into a snarl. For a brief moment, he blinked and looked at Kaitlyn. “Do you want to…”

  The expression returned.

  “What?” Kaitlyn asked.

  “Nothing,” Nicolas said, his voice lower than before. “I have an idea for this wagon when Tor gets back with the adda.”

  “Are you okay?”

  Nicolas nodded.

  “Then you should check on Robert,” Kaitlyn said.

  “It’s just a damned leg! He’ll be okay!”

  “Nicolas!” Kaitlyn stared at him with wide eyes.

  Nicolas massaged his temples. Where the hell was this coming from?

  “Sorry,” Nicolas said. “Something’s…I’m not sure what I was thinking. Must be the stress from everything.”

  Aelron followed Nicolas to where Robert was stretched out on a sleeping pallet next to the overturned wagon. He was grabbing his right ankle.

  Nicolas knelt beside Robert. An expression of deep concentration formed on his face.

  “It’s not like me to say I told you so, but,” Aelron said. “That carriage wasn’t built for that much weight.”

  “I don’t think the weight had anything to do with it,” Nicolas said. He held the statuette up for Aelron to see.

  “That’s the second time I’ve seen one of those,” Aelron said. “First one we found in a ditch.”

  “We?” Nicolas asked.

  For the love of each and every one of the gods.

  “Some people I used to travel with,” Aelron said.

  “Who’s it supposed to be?” Nicolas asked as he turned the statue over in his hand.

  “No idea. You thinking about using the wagon still?”

  Nicolas nodded.

  “I’ll get Toridyn to help me flip it over,” Aelron said.

  The less talking I do…the less talking I’ll do.

  “No need,” Nicolas said.

  Kagan headed in the direction of the wagon. Nicolas must be sending him instead.

  “How’s my Robert?” Philomena asked.

  “Pretty sure he has a busted ankle,” Nicolas said.

  “That poor man,” Kaitlyn said. “Is there anything you can do?”

  Nicolas shook his head. “I tried. I just don’t know how. Mujahid’s the healer, not me.”

  Mujahid. Aelron knew that name from somewhere. Though it was a common Religarian name, he supposed.

  “We can put him on the wagon,” Nicolas said.

  “Was it the spirit warriors, Archmage?” Robert asked. “Like the army that took Blackwood? An army of the dead?”

  “What did this army look like?” Nicolas asked. “Did you see them?”

  “They looked like you and me,” Robert said. “It’s the way they came and went that gave up the lie. They appeared from out of the air, like the way a necromancer’s penitent appears. Then they disappeared once the job was done.”

  A snap and loud crash came from the middle of the road. So much for the archmage’s wagon idea. It was useless. And in the process of turning over, it had destroyed everything that wasn’t made of metal. Except for a small hand cart at the rear.

  “Looks like we’re on foot,” Aelron said. “Too bad for poor Robert. He was a decent guy.”

  “Was?” Nicolas asked. “He’s sitting right here.”

  Aelron shrugged. “We can leave him some rations. Someone will probably be along before they run out.”

  “I know you’re not suggesting we leave him behind because he can’t walk,” Kaitlyn said.

  “Holy one, no!” Philomena yelled.

  “That’s not an option,” Nicolas said.

  “There’s nothing for it,” Aelron said. “You said yourself you can’t heal him. He’ll slow us down too much. You think that army is going to slow down because we’ve got a cripple along for the walk?”

  “Hey now,” Nicolas said. “You can’t talk about people like that. He’s a man, like you or me. A living, breathing man.”

  Aelron didn’t understand. This wasn’t a question of Robert’s humanity. It was a question of getting to Caspardis as quickly as possible.

  “But he’s of absolutely no use to you,” Aelron said. “None of these people are. We don’t even know them.”

  “We don’t know you either,” Nicolas said. “And where I’m from, you don’t abandon people because you don’t find them useful. If I have to carry him all the way to Caspardis on my shoulders, that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

  Kaitlyn smiled.

  Aelron was at a loss for words. On the one hand, he didn’t understand how
Nicolas couldn’t see the foolishness of this decision. Sometimes you had to leave people behind…people you cared for, even…for the betterment of all. But on the other hand, he had yet another of those answers he was seeking.

  An archmage who doesn’t want power, accepts he doesn’t know everything, and shows compassion when it isn’t politically convenient.

  But the coin wanted him dead.

  Toridyn jogged over from the wreck.

  “Slow down, amigo,” Toridyn said. “Aelron may have the compassion of a feral crag spider—”

  “Hey, now,” Aelron said.

  “But he’s right about that army,” Toridyn said. “Now sit tight, and don’t let your bed bucks bite.”

  “That’s sleep tight,” Nicolas said. “And it doesn’t even fit the…never mind. What’s your idea?”

  “How quickly we forget,” Toridyn said.

  A haunting melody filled the space around them with soothing notes as Toridyn’s penitent began to sing.

  When the song ended, Robert grabbed his leg. His eyes were wide.

  “The pain’s gone!” Robert said. “I think I can walk, if I tried!”

  Robert began to push himself up, and Philomena and Kaitlyn each took an arm to help. But Robert shrugged them off. In a moment, he was standing on his own and walking in a circle.

  “I can’t believe it!” Robert said.

  “I know that feeling,” Nicolas said. “But Tor, why didn’t you just heal him yourself?”

  Toridyn’s eyes spun in a circle as his chest heaved with laughter. “Me? I can’t carry a tuna in a bucket!”

  “Tune, you goof,” Nicolas said.

  Robert tried to gather his sleeping pallet and satchel, but Nicolas stopped him.

  “You’ve been through enough,” Nicolas said. “Just carry your self for now. I’ll get the rest.”

  Robert smiled, though it was clear the arrangement made him uncomfortable.

  “Kagan,” Nicolas said. “Gather anything from the wagon that’s still useful and put it in the hand cart. I’ve got a new job for you.”

  “You were serious,” Aelron said. It wasn’t a question. “You were going to carry that man all the way to the gates of Caspardis. Why?”

  Nicolas placed his hand on Aelron’s shoulder. “I told you. He’s a human being. We’re not worth more than him just because we outnumber him.” Nicolas pulled his chain of office out from behind his scapular. “And I’m not worth any more because of this damned chain. If we don’t take care of each other, what does that make us?”

  Nicolas squeezed Aelron’s shoulder. He leaned over to pick up Robert’s belongings, but Aelron stopped him.

  “No,” Aelron said. “I’ve got that.”

  Nicolas smiled and nodded, then caught up with Kaitlyn and Philomena.

  Aelron picked Robert’s pack off the ground and followed.

  But the coin wants him dead.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  16In the days of the Reestablishment of the Lords, Zafir Mukhtaar looked into the Abyss of Nehem and stepped over the threshold, becoming Zafir Lord Mukhtaar. 17The world trembled as he emerged, burying the nearby tribesmen in salt and sand. 18When the light shone forth from his eyes, the priests bowed and gave thanks, for Zubuxo had not abandoned them.

  19And it came to pass that Shealynd appeared to Lord Mukhtaar and marked him. 20He built her shrine and ascended with her to the heavens.

  - The Mukhtaar Chronicles, attributed to the prophet Habakku

  Reestablishment of the Lords 5:16-20

  The “Abyss of Nehem” is likely metaphorical in nature. Nehem, one of the first thirteen priests, preached a message of self-knowledge and reflection. From this, we can conclude that Zafir’s ascension took place after achieving a certain degree of enlightenment.

  As for the dates of Lord Mukhtaar’s reign, the Scrolls of Tal’mon set the dates from 1330 BCE to 1221 BCE.

  - Coteon of the Steppes, “The Mukhtaar Chronicles: Coteonic Commentaries” (circa 680 BCE)

  The abyss is quite real. Nuuan and I located it some three hundred miles northeast of Dar Saricon. It took more than a dozen penitents longer than a month to unseal the ancient temple complex. But the real challenge was keeping curious nomads away. In our ascended state, I estimate the same task would have taken less than a week.

  - Mujahid Mukhtaar, Private Commentaries, 45 CE

  It had been a long day on the road, and Nicolas was grateful to finally stop.

  Aelron had run out of drinking water, so Kaitlyn had given him her water skin to use. She had a dizzy spell when she handed it to him, but Nicolas chalked it up to being tired from the road.

  She wasn’t the only one who was tired. Toridyn and the refugees had fallen asleep not far from the cook fire, which was casting an amber glow on the ring of boulders surrounding their camp.

  Aelron, however, had gone off somewhere to hunt the wild boar that roamed about. He said they were easier to sneak up on at night, and no one had any objections. Why should they? Aelron was doing a great job of keeping everyone fed.

  Kagan was walking a patrol around the perimeter of the camp, several hundred yards away, and Kaitlyn had volunteered to clean the cooking supplies. A few minutes after she disappeared around a boulder with the cooking implements, a strange set of images emerged from the necromantic link.

  They were confusing—a side effect of Arin having summoned Kagan for him—but he got the general idea. Someone was trying to have a conversation with dead Kagan. But Kagan wasn’t responding to the person’s questions because Nicolas hadn’t given him permission to speak.

  Nicolas quickly scanned the camp. Toridyn and the refugees were all asleep, and Toby’s nose was poking out from inside Toridyn’s sleeping pallet. Kaitlyn was cleaning pots on the other side of the boulder.

  That left Aelron.

  Stay quiet, Nicolas sent through the necromantic link. Don’t let him know I’m coming.

  What the hell was Aelron up to? One minute he was the most straight-shooting guy on the planet, and the next he was a mako shark in a kiddie pool. But there was something familiar about him. Something about his eyes.

  Nicolas stood and Toby’s nose flared a few times. He started crawling, but Nicolas held his hand out. Toby got the idea and crawled back in to Toridyn’s sleeping pallet. He didn’t look happy about it, though.

  Nicholas used the necromantic link to find Kagan.

  No matter how much cover Nicolas had, his footsteps would be loud on the dry ground. Aelron would hear him coming before he got close enough to hear the conversation.

  Nicolas paused for a moment. Did Kagan have a way of relaying what Aelron was saying? Even if he did, though, the imagery returning from the link had grown confusing since the wagon rolled over. It would be better to hear it with his own ears.

  Nicolas had used necropotency in the past to lift objects and other people. Could he use it to lift himself?

  Only one way to find out.

  Nicolas began weaving a rope of necropotency, but abandoned the attempt. What would he attach the other end to? Besides, he needed some measure of control over this. All he needed was to get his feet an inch or two off the ground and the noise problem would be solved.

  He wrapped himself in a bubble of energy and heaved upwards.

  The ground was hard in this part of the Shandarian Union. At least that’s what his shoulder blades told him when he landed on his back after doing a complete somersault.

  A high-pitched whine came from behind.

  Toby had crawled out of the sleeping pallet and was staring at him.

  Maybe I need to control each foot independently.

  It would be tricky, but it was worth a shot.

  Nicolas pushed himself to his feet, opened his mind, and laid a platform of necropotency under each foot. He couldn’t help smiling as he rose off the ground. Now he needed to walk.

  “See Toby?” Nicolas whispered. “I know what I’m doing.”

  Toby wagged his tail twic
e and stopped. He wasn’t convinced.

  Nicolas took a step forward with his left foot.

  Step, however, would imply a far greater degree of control than what Nicolas exercised. It wasn’t so much a step as it was an uncontrollable slide with ever-increasing momentum and no possibility of recovery. Worse, his right foot was stuck where he’d left it.

  Shit! Shit! Shit!

  This was going to get real painful real fast if he didn’t do something. But all he could do was release his grip on the necropotency.

  He landed in front splits and rolled over in pain holding his groin.

  Toby whined and laid his head on his front paws.

  “Yeah, get a good laugh,” Nicolas whispered.

  This wasn’t going to work. He had no idea how to lift himself in a controlled way. It wasn’t the same as lifting something else. The physics of it was all wrong, like he was violating some fundamental law or something. He’d have to do this the old-fashioned way.

  He told Toby to stay and set out in Kagan’s direction, using the sparse dwarf trees for as much cover as he could get. He’d need to be careful. Erindor’s night sky provided substantial ambient light, and only Nicolas’s scapular was dark. His robes were white. Covered in mud, but white just the same.

  The images from the necromantic link were scattered and confusing, but Nicolas concentrated. He needed information before he walked into something he couldn’t handle.

  An image of a child in danger, followed by an overwhelming sense of abandonment, made Nicolas pause for a minute. The pain was visceral. But it didn’t make sense. Why would Kagan feel abandoned? Was he in danger?

  Nicolas shook it off and crouched on his way to the next dwarf tree. He was close. He couldn’t see them, but Aelron’s baritone voice, subdued to a hoarse whisper, was impossible to miss.

  “Why?” Aelron asked. “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

  Kagan came into view. He was scanning the horizon.

  Ignore me, Nicolas told him.

  Aelron was right behind Kagan, gesturing furiously.

  “Damn you,” Aelron said. “How could you do it? Nicolas wouldn’t abandon a crippled old man, but you send me away? And what of my birthright, old man? Did you give me so much as a second thought after I left?”