Necromancer Falling: Book Two of The Mukhtaar Chronicles (59 page)

“Sixty-seven years ago, the Glorious One gave birth to a child,” Zorian said. “Yotto. Her first of what would be fifteen children. On his twenty-sixth birthday, his mother, our empress, presented him with a duty given her by the gods themselves during the Incarnation Ceremony.”

What is he talking about?

That’s what the Barathosians call the Rite of Manifestation,
Kagan said.

“‘Go to the new land in the west,’ she said. ‘Tell them of our ways. Show them how to harness vitapotency. For they have discovered it, but know not how to use it properly.’ And so Yotto’s diplomatic training intensified. As is our custom, only a member of the Imperial family may forge a diplomatic relationship on behalf of the throne. But we had an archmage already, and Arin’s instructions said nothing of what to do about the archmage across the ocean.”

Zorian faced Kagan.

“So the Glorious One, in her benevolence, made a decision that shook the foundation of our society,” Zorian said. “She commanded a
second
Temple of the Gods be constructed in Barathos, but this one for the westerners. For
you
. She ignored Tradition, saying our understanding of the world had been incorrect.”

A sense of confusion seeped from the necromantic link into Nicolas’s consciousness. Kagan had never been told of this.

“For the first time in the history of our ancient empire, there would be two archmages,” Zorian said. “They would share power and duties. The west would be welcomed like a lost brother. But this would put a strain on resources the Treasury couldn’t sustain. It would have not only emptied the Imperial vault, but also the combined treasuries of the three largest great families.”

“Nonsense,” Kagan said. “Your empress had no such intentions. She would have replaced me at the order of her own archmage.”

“At first, the people didn’t respond well to this,” Zorian said. He continued as if from memory. “Many rose up in rebellion and sought to depose the Glorious One. So the Glorious One gathered the five weakest great families and convinced them to come together as one. Their combined might quashed the rebellion.”

“What does any of this have to do with Yotto?” Kagan asked.

Zorian stepped forward. “Together, they gathered the resources required and built the Temple of the Gods. The Glorious One called the people to gather below the Bridge of Diamond. She promised open trade between East and West would refill the drained treasuries.”

Zorian took another step forward and leaned over Kagan.

“She swore this on the life of her youngest son,” Zorian said. “So you see, Archmage, you didn’t only kill
one
of the Glorious One’s children.”

“What right did she have to swear that oath without speaking to me first?” Kagan said.

“But she did. Through Yotto. The year he spent with you was productive, was it not? You learned much about us and we about you.”

Is that true?

A sense of resignation returned from the link.

It is,
Kagan said.
I was quite fond of the boy, actually, even without knowing his true identity. But when he spoke of another archmage across the ocean…I brought this to Azazel’s attention, and…

No! Don’t think about Azazel!

“What right did she have to swear that oath without speaking to me first?” Kagan repeated.

Aww shit.

Zorian gave Kagan a look of confusion that turned to anger.

“You expected the Glorious One to travel here
herself
to speak to you?” Zorian asked. “You’re more foolish than I thought you’d be.”

Nicolas wasn’t sure how much longer they could keep this up. If the mere passing thought of Azazel could send Kagan into a loop, it would give the entire ruse away. The only thing keeping Nicolas out of the hot seat was dead Kagan, and he intended to keep it that way.

Nicolas had to end this himself.

Under no circumstances are you to tell Zorian about me. As far as he’s concerned, you’re the archmage and I’m your servant.

I wish to have clarity on your command,
Kagan said.
Are you instructing me to lie as a means of purifying my soul? Are you instructing me to deny the Barathosians the justice they rightly deserve to save your life and the life of your paramour?

There’s a greater good to consider here.

Precisely what I told Yotto when I killed him. When I pondered the consequences of creating the Great Barrier, I told myself there was a greater good to consider. Those words rang in my mind once more when I sought to govern an ungovernable Council of Magi by distracting them with chaos in their homelands.

It’s not even remotely the same thing.

It was a greater good that forced my hand in Tildem, and again when I would have struck you down in the Sanctuary. So remember those words when a priest calls you from the grave. Remember to tell him you did everything for a greater good.

Enough! Surrender to Zorian.

Nicolas sent the command through the necromantic link in such a way Kagan couldn’t refuse. This was an order from priest to penitent with no recourse. No appeal.

“Your words have moved me this day,” Kagan said. “I see now how deeply I hurt the Glorious One and her family. Not to mention her honor. I surrender willingly.”

Zorian straightened his back. “Rumors of your sense of reason and logic were not exaggerated, Archmage. Your decision here will speak greatly in your defense when you stand before the Glorious One. But first, I must prepare for your transfer to the fleet. I’m afraid my Admiral didn’t have the forethought to consider you’d actually surrender. At least not so soon. I will need your traveling device, of course.”

Crap! Didn’t think of that! Ask him to reconsider that!

“Would you consider leaving the device in the hands of my servant?” Kagan asked. “The Council of Magi will need to be informed of my surrender so they can move forward with the succession.”

Zorian looked at Nicolas.

Come on! Say yes!

“No,” Zorian said. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that. The emperor will have word sent to the Pinnacle on your behalf once you’re both in a holding cell. But I need the device.”

“I’ll give you the device, of course,” Kagan said. “But may I ask one more thing?”

“Go on,” Zorian said.

What are you doing?

Saving your life, boy.

“Look at the youthfulness of my servant,” Kagan said. “It should be obvious he wasn’t yet born when these events transpired. You have my peaceful surrender. You’ll have my translocation orb. Let my servant go. He merely attends to my mundane needs, nothing more.”

If Nicolas hadn’t heard it with his own ears, he’d never believe Kagan capable of it.

Zorian folded his hands and tapped his lips with his index fingers. After several moments, he spoke.

“You’re free to go,” Zorian said.

Nicolas offered a slight bow.

“The device,” Zorian said.

Nicolas retrieved the orb from his robes and handed it to Zorian.

“And how does this work?” Zorian asked.

“I don’t know how one would accomplish it with life magic,” Kagan said. “But you channel a small amount of necropotency and it transports you to the Pinnacle.”

Zorian pursed his lips. “Clever. Right, then. The guard will remain outside, but I’ll inform them your servant may leave.”

Something in Zorian’s demeanor changed when Kagan surrendered. It was more than a reaction to a simple victory. He all but danced out of the room.

“I’ll do what I can,” Nicolas said. “I’ll sever the link if it comes to it.”

“And you’d be a fool to do so.”

“Why?”

“Questions like that make me doubt your paternity.
And
your training. I’ve been dead for months.”

Kagan was right. If Nicolas severed the link and Kagan collapsed, his decomposition would accelerate to match his true state. It would be obvious to the Barathosians Kagan had been a corpse all along.

They’d come back. And they’d keep coming back until they got what they wanted.

“Perhaps in a year,” Kagan said. “Maybe two. They’ll have exacted their punishment by then and cast me into whatever grave they intend to dig. You’ll know when because I’ll tell you.”

“You’ve gained some purification today.”

“Spare me the platitudes,” Kagan said. “Go save that young woman who’s leading you into insanity and an early grave.”

Nicolas didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t exactly
like
Kagan. But he didn’t exactly
hate
him anymore either. He hadn’t expected it to be difficult to leave him behind.

He walked to the door, nodded his head at Kagan, and closed the door behind him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

In the year 711 BCE, Fahad Morcos stepped over the threshold, becoming Fahad Lord Mukhtaar Morcos. A contemporary of Coteon of the Steppes, Lord Fahad and Coteon worked tirelessly to illuminate the Mukhtaar Chronicles. Lord Fahad was said to be an invaluable source of knowledge of applied theology for Coteon, and he was instrumental in deciphering the Origines Multiversi.

When Coteon died of an unknown lung illness in 669 BCE, Lord Fahad agreed to serve as chief celebrant at the funerary rite. Coteon thanked Lord Fahad, informed him of the location of unpublished commentaries, then passed into the Plane of Peace before a single hour had elapsed.

- The Mukhtaar Chronicles, Second Cycle, 10 CE

The guards ignored Nicolas as he left the holding room. He double-checked his chain of office to make sure it was concealed. He had to keep his identity hidden, if he wanted to stay alive long enough to find Kaitlyn and get out of here.

The gold-filigreed walls stretched out before him on both sides of a narrow hallway, which wound through the guest wing of the imperial palace. The floor sloped down toward an intersection that would pose the first problem for Nicolas.

He had tried to memorize the twists and turns when they’d escorted him to the holding room. But the palace was so large, and each hallway so similar, it didn’t take long to lose track. The wide hallways near the throne room had grown narrower when they took him to the guest quarters. Maybe he could backtrack by focusing on the width of the hallway.

Several guards stood alert along the way, arms concealed within their voluminous desert robes. But none of them so much as blinked as he walked past.

As he reached the next intersection his pulse raced. The intersecting hallway was at least twice the width of the one he emerged from. The only question was whether to go left or right.

Left it is
.

The hallway curved right and narrowed.

Necropotency trickled into Nicolas’s well of power. The relative size of his well made it seem like a small amount of power, but he was certain it would have filled any other necromancer’s well.

Someone died. Nearby.

And whoever it was, it came from farther into the narrow hall. An odd place for a random death. This wasn’t a residence wing, as far as he could tell, and there were no signs of an infirmary nearby.

Just focus on finding the throne room.

Another trickle of necropotency entered his well.

Dammit! Two?

Nicolas turned inward and allowed a small amount of necropotency to touch the
guide
symbol—the one that looked like an arrow with a broadhead tip and feather fletchings. The guide would tell him where the nearest source of energy was. Whatever had just died should be that source.

The guide came to life in the form of an ethereal arrow hanging within his peripheral vision. It pointed farther into the hallway.

Necro GPS. Gotta love it.

The hallway grew darker the farther he walked. There was very little natural light in this part of the palace, and widely spaced torches created large swathes of shadow.

Nicolas crept along the wall. If there had been a murder, whoever did the murdering wouldn’t take kindly to being watched.