Necromancer Falling: Book Two of The Mukhtaar Chronicles (18 page)

“You’re not the only one, lady,” Toridyn said. “I still have a headache.”

“And afterward, I understood everything he was saying to me,” Kaitlyn said.

“Yes,” Lamil said. “I’m beginning to believe this is very much related to your hall of power, Nicolas. When I examined your pathways, it was after the gift of Zubuxo had been bestowed on you. There may be others who have been changed as a result. Perhaps the gift was transmitted by contact.”

“Gift of Zubuxo?” Kaitlyn asked.

“Big black bubble thing,” Nicolas said. “Near the statue of Zubuxo out in the temple. Almost killed me. Long story. But this isn’t why we came here, Siek. We need your help. We need the chimeramancers, actually.”

Lamil’s eyes spun, and he looked Nicolas up and down. “Why?”

Nicolas explained Kaitlyn’s situation, starting with their mutual vision in the Pinnacle garden. When he finished telling the story, he felt haggard, like he’d been running a never-ending marathon.

“Something is troubling you,
Sab,
and it clouds your cet,” Lamil said. “What is it that prevents you from letting go?”

Nicolas’s gaze drifted toward Kaitlyn and Toridyn. He was beginning to feel self-conscious.

“Guys, can you give us a second?” Nicolas asked.

Kaitlyn narrowed her eyes, but she followed Toridyn out into the temple carrying Toby. When they were out of earshot, Nicolas faced Lamil.

“Are you kidding me?” Nicolas said. “You of all people know what I went through to get back home. After all that time, I finally succeed, and now…now
this
!”

Lamil harrumphed. “Your regard for Kaitlyn is not what restrains you. You no longer fear death. You’ve been to the other side and returned.”

“How can you say that?”

“What is the Third Law of Necromancy?” Lamil asked.

“I can’t believe this—”

“What is the Third Law of Necromancy?”

“The Third Law of Necromancy states
there is no death
.”

“Since even I know you are incapable of fearing that which does not exist, my conclusion stands. Something else clouds your judgment, keeping you from embracing your cet.”

How did Lamil always do this to him?

“I should understand how to fix this,” Nicolas said. And that’s what he believed. He was a master necromancer. The archmage, no less. If Kaitlyn had a problem involving magic, he should be the one to be able to fix it. “How can I call myself a
master
if I can’t even help her Awaken?”

“And this lack of wisdom upsets you to the point where you’ve lost focus on your responsibilities?”

“You promoted me. You gave me the robe of mastery. Shouldn’t that mean something? I thought you taught me all I needed to know about magic? So why can’t I help her the way you and Mujahid helped me?”

There was an awkward silence while Lamil eyed him up and down. But after several moments, Lamil waved his hand and an image of a necromancer’s Robe of Mastery appeared in front of them.

“Do you know why the robes and cowls of mastery are the color of darkest, midnight blue?” Lamil asked as he sat on a newly formed stool.

Nicolas shook his head. “You once told me it’s a reminder we’re capable of great evil.”

“At one end of the spectrum there is white. Many believe white is the color of innocence and perfection, yet white is an arrogant color, reflecting all others and absorbing none. White, in its pride, believes in its own perfection and accepts no change.”

In all his time at Aquonome, Nicolas had never heard this explanation.

“On the other end of the spectrum is black,” Lamil said. “Many cultures in the multiverse see black as the color of perfection. Black absorbs all other colors without reflection. It is the most receptive and accepting of the colors, yet black also believes in its own perfection. It accepts all in a display of humility, yet remains the same. Unchanged. Betraying its pride.”

“So where does midnight blue fall into this? It’s pretty close to black.”

“The darkest blue is a remarkable color, Nicolas. It neither rejects nor accepts all. It chooses carefully…with a discriminating eye, accepting only those colors that bring it closer to perfection, and rejecting those that draw it farther away. It grows closer to perfection with every acceptance, yet never reaches it. It is a visual reminder that though we strive for perfection, our existence will never be perfect.”

“I don’t
feel
any closer to perfection,” Nicolas said. “I feel like a fake. A fraud. I don’t deserve that robe and title you gave me.”

“Let me assure you, I
gave
you nothing,” Lamil said. “The road to mastery doesn’t end with the robe and cowl. It
begins
there. I gave you nothing except the knowledge of the fact you’re ready to learn. You’re ready to
begin
your journey.”

“That doesn’t help me fix Kaitlyn’s problem.”

“I worry about you.”

That surprised Nicolas. Lamil had never spoken to him like that before.

“I see a man before me who has regressed,” Lamil said. “Where once you were centered and knew your path and purpose, now you flounder like a hatchling. I saw this happen once before.”

“What was the outcome?”

“You should know. You killed him.”

Nicolas remembered the suffering he’d endured at Jurn’s hand. And yes, he remembered their final encounter as if it happened yesterday. But this wasn’t the same. It couldn’t be.

Nicolas shook his head. “You don’t understand. You’ve never understood how much I love her.”

“I understand more than you know about Love. I understand that it compels you. That it simultaneously binds you and sets you free.”

“Then why the worry?”

“Because I also know something else. I know that unless you’re careful, you will become each other’s weakness instead of strength. The very force that draws you together will tear you apart.”

Nicolas didn’t want to admit it, but Lamil was right. When he’d left Aquonome, he was stronger. More confident. But the moment he discovered Kaitlyn was in trouble, he lost it. All that strength seeped out of him, leaving confusion and anxiety in its place. He couldn’t continue like this. Yes, he loved Kaitlyn and was worried about her. But none of that was going to get them out of this situation.

Nicolas stood and adjusted his robe.

“I need to speak to the chimeramancers,” Nicolas said.

Lamil’s eyes rotated.

“Whatever Kaitlyn is experiencing, Mujahid seemed to think she was a chimeramancer. If anyone will know how to help her Awaken, it’s them.”

One of Lamil’s eyes came to rest on the opening to the temple, while the other came to rest on Nicolas.

“While I applaud your newfound confidence, what you ask is not so simple.”

“What do you mean? Just take us to them and introduce us.”

“Introductions must take place in a controlled way, or catastrophe can happen in Aquonome. Accounting Day is several weeks away. We cannot disturb the chimeramancers until then.”

“Why was I never told about these guys?”

“It is for cichlos, not human. You required no introduction, because they are not required to catalog you.”

“Catalog?”

“It is what they do.”

“You’re one of the highest ranking members of the highest caste in Aquonome,” Nicolas said. “I’m sure they’ll listen to you.”

“You don’t understand. Chimeramancers are above such things. They are not part of the caste system. They serve a greater purpose.”

“Then we have that in common.”

Nicolas left Lamil sitting on his stool as he walked out into the temple. Whether Lamil joined them or not, Nicholas was headed for the central dome. He’d wasted enough time already.

CHAPTER EIGHT

¹
The Rule of Love

²
Shealynd stepped forward and beseeched her brother.
³
“Mine is the dominion of Love, for my name is love as yours is exalted.
⁴
I shall imbue this hell with love, for it is to be our father’s last home.”

⁵
Arin agreed and empowered Shealynd.

⁶
And Shealynd went forth, down into the hells, and shed six tears, one for each Plane.
⁷
But the six tears had power over the prison and its bindings.

- The Mukhtaar Chronicles, attributed to the prophet Habakku

Origines Multiversi, Emergentiae 7:1-7

Nicolas entered the smaller central dome, followed by Kaitlyn—who held Toby’s leash. Toridyn and dead Kagan brought up the rear, the former like a man waiting for his own trial to begin, and the latter just taking up space.

The central dome was much as Nicolas remembered it. Several multi-hued columns of barrier material stretched from floor to ceiling and served as chutes for distributing food. Each column was attended by two cichlos priests who wore the strange, leather-like cichlos clothing with the midnight-blue cowl of mastery around their shoulders. Cichlos entered through the tubular hallways and transportation bubbles circling the dome’s perimeter and lined up at the distribution columns, where the priests gave them trays of food.

Three tremendous floating bubbles dominated the dome’s center. Each bubble morphed as they floated up and down, changing shape and color, but they never touched. Occasionally, the top bubble would change color and the others would follow suit. Beneath them were three barrier chairs—more like recliners—occupied by rotund, sleeping cichlos in gray cowls. Barrier energy rose from the floor and formed a waist-high wall surrounding the column of bubbles. Two young cichlos stooped over the wall, examining something on its flat, overhanging surface.

People moving through the dome gave the area a wide berth, like tourists at the Grand Canyon who didn’t want to press their luck with the guard rails.

Lamil had joined them, though he seemed even more concerned than Toridyn. What was it with those two? Nicolas just wanted to ask the chimeramancers some questions, but they acted like he was planning to exhume their dead relatives!

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Toridyn said.

“Why, exactly?” Nicolas asked.

“Nick,” Kaitlyn said. “Maybe you should listen.”

“You too, now?”

Kaitlyn shook her head and turned away. That wasn’t a good sign. The last time she acted like that, she didn’t speak to him for a while. What was wrong with these people? Couldn’t they see…couldn’t
she
see he was trying to save her life?

And what was Lamil’s problem? He always had an explanation…long-winded and philosophical, perhaps, but an explanation nonetheless. But now he seemed
scared
.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Nicolas asked, staring at Lamil.

Lamil’s eyes made a complex series of turns, independent of one another, and came to rest with one staring at the floor and the other staring at the chimeramancers. Nicolas had never seen that gesture before.

“The last time a chimeramancer was disturbed outside of
Accounting Day
was the day my sister died,” Lamil said.

On the day the siek taught him to use the arrow symbol, he also taught Nicolas about his sister Tamil.

Nicolas grasped for words that wouldn’t come.

“I’m sorry,” Nicolas said. “I didn’t know. But what else aren’t you telling me? What is this Accounting Day you keep talking about?”

“To understand that, you must understand the purpose of the chimeramancers within cichlos society,” Lamil said. “That is not something I can simply explain to your satisfaction.”

“You’re good at
simply
dodging my questions, though.”

Lamil harrumphed. “Accounting Day comes four times every year. It is a day on which new members of our community are introduced to the chimeramancers, one by one, so that they might…commit them to memory.”

Lamil walked past Nicolas and approached a young cichlos at the barrier ring.