Necromancer Falling: Book Two of The Mukhtaar Chronicles (61 page)

Nicolas wasn’t sure how to respond. If he said what he
wanted
to say—that he understood, and that part of him thought the emperor had done the
right
thing—would Emperor Relig take that as another sign of weakness? There was no way to know. So he did the only thing he knew the emperor would understand. He extended his hand forward, palm out, and held it over Emperor Relig’s head.

“May Arin, Shealynd, and Zubuxo, bless you and preserve your people,” Nicolas said.

Emperor Relig crossed his arms over his chest and bowed his head. When he looked up at Nicolas once more, there was something new in his eyes.

Gratitude.

The emperor hurried toward the small golden door next to the raised platform, and Nicolas and Kaitlyn followed.

With any luck, Nicolas would be able to leave the city with Kaitlyn before Zorian found out.

Arin, if you
are
watching from somewhere, I hope you’re seeing this right now.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

In the year 450 BCE, Abd Al-Hakim Shadid stepped over the threshold, becoming Abd Al-Hakim Lord Mukhtaar Shadid. Lord Abd Al-Hakim died without children. But he was a great mentor to several blood Mukhtaar priests, one of whom (Baladi) eventually ascended.

- The Mukhtaar Chronicles, Second Cycle, 10 CE

Though the reign of Lords Abd Al-Hakim Shadid and Sayyid Cham overlapped by several years, there are no writings hinting at the strange cloud of energy that formed around our wells of power when Nuuan and I ascended. After more than forty years, I still have no idea what it might mean. And if the God of Death knows, he remains curiously silent on the subject.

- Mujahid Mukhtaar, Private Commentaries, 45 CE

Mujahid watched as Tithian opened the vestry’s ornate mahogany cabinet.

“Your timing is impeccable,” Tithian said. “I’m leaving for the Shandarian Union within the hour.”

“To what end?” Mujahid asked.

The strongest, most beautiful rose sent wafted out of the cabinet and permeated the room. It could be only one thing; a rose of Shealynd.

“It was a request from your brother,” Tithian said.

Tithian retrieved the rose and handed it to Mujahid, who cradled it in his hands as if it would disintegrate on touch.

“What was the nature of this request?” Mujahid asked.

Tithian shook his head. “He told me to retrieve a parchment. I did. The parchment vanished, along with my memory of reading it. But I know I
must
travel to the Shandarian Union, and
your brother
is the reason.”

Nuuan and his secrets will be the death of me.

Mujahid hefted the rose. “Nuuan gave you
this
?”

“He told me you should place it at the base of Shealynd’s statue. He said that—”

Mujahid bolted from the room. Tithian yelled something from behind, but he didn’t hear or care what it was. All that mattered was getting to the shrine. He half-jumped, half-ran down the great spiral staircase, brushing past several council magi, then sprinted across the gallery—much to the chagrin of the serving staff, who guarded their trays of food and delicate glassware as if the wind from Mujahid’s robe would topple them.

A small, neglected entrance to the Pinnacle gardens sat within an alcove on one side of a wide passageway. The shrine wasn’t far.

He jogged the rest of the way, sweating and out of breath, and placed the rose on the ground next to Shealynd’s statue.

“It’s about festering time,” Nuuan said. “I did everything but draw you a map.”

Mujahid turned at the sound of Nuuan’s voice, which had come from behind him.

“Brother!” Mujahid said. “By the gods. Part of me thought you dead. Another part thought you beyond reach forever.”

“It’s a little early for a celebration.”

Mujahid stepped toward Nuuan, arms open to embrace his twin.

“Hold,” Nuuan said. “Don’t touch me, I’m bi-locating.”

“Where’s your
better
half?”

“Observing events in Dar Rodon. Physical contact might snap me back here fully.”

“You knew all this time and said nothing.”

“I could fill an adda’s gaping arse with all the things I’m not saying.”

“If you fancy yourself a god, I suppose it’s no surprise you act like one.”

“
Elevated human
,” Nuuan said. “Get it right. And I don’t fancy myself
anything
except a man with a job. The whole
god
business is a means to an end.”

“You started a religion! Are you insane? And how could you involve the argram?”

“I see you found my magical cock,” Nuuan said.

“Nuuan—”

“Yes, I started a religion. Because I knew you wouldn’t. Just like when we unified the festering clans.”

“What are you talking about? There was never so much as a hint of what you were up to.”

Nuuan turned away. “Do you remember that day outside Father’s tomb, Muj?”

Had Nuuan confessed to being a woman, Mujahid wouldn’t have been more surprised. In all their considerable years, Nuuan had never
once
brought this painful subject up, regardless of how much Mujahid wanted to discuss it.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Mujahid said. “I shoved you at the wrong time. It could have happened to anyone.”

“But it didn’t, did it? It happened to
me
.
I
was the one to summon our father from his festering grave. Him and all his sins and secrets.”

“It changed you,” Mujahid said. “You became…a
darker
person.”

“Is that your new word for
womanizing alcoholic
?”

“Brother—”

Nuuan held up his hand. “Peace. I’ll spare you the details I drown with women and wine. But there are some things you
should
know.”

“It’s not right. There are reasons it’s forbidden.”

“And I’ve lived each of them. But it’s not about our father. Not entirely. It’s about Malvol.”

Mujahid narrowed his eyes. “What does our father have to do with the god of hate?”

“It took decades to put some of the pieces together,” Nuuan said. “Until recently I still wasn’t sure I’d done the right thing. But Digby discovered something after the Battle of Rotham. Something that vindicated
every last one
of my choices going back some seventy years. Apotheosis was the only answer. The super-spatial universal consciousness transcends what you may think of as
person
.”

“You’re losing me, brother.”

Nuuan folded his hands and tapped his thumbs against his bearded chin.

“This is difficult,” Nuuan said. “I’m not yet a god, but my mind is greatly expanded. I forget what it was like to be…”

“Mortal?”

“Come now, brother. You’re far from mortal yourself.”

“Parlor tricks keep me alive. You’re something else entirely now.”

Nuuan smiled. “There are events taking place…cosmic events that you should be aware of. It involves Malvol.”

“I already know. He’s an elevated human seeking deification.”

“It’s
far
worse than that. He’s a Mukhtaar Lord. An
ancient
one.”

“Nonsense,” Mujahid said. “You know the Chronicles as well as I. Shall I recite the names forward or backward?”

“Malvol is a
false
name.”

“Then which one is he?”

“I don’t know. But does it matter?

“Of course it bloody matters! We control the Chronicles now! We can leave a legacy of truth! But how do you know this? How did Digby discover it?”

Nuuan shook his head. “You are one of the smartest men I’ve ever known. Perhaps among the wisest throughout all of Erindor. So understand this is no slight when I say you’re
incapable
of comprehending my explanation. It requires hyper-dimensional reasoning and super-spatial awareness. Some of it requires
more than one mind
operating in tandem under the direction of a controlling entity. A collective with a mental focal point. Think of it like—”

“The argram.”

Nuuan smiled. “Like I said. Among the wisest men of Erindor. You do our family proud, brother. Malvol seeks deification.
True
deification. And if he succeeds, he’ll be powerful enough to challenge the other gods. Perhaps even annihilate them. But he’s
still
just a man. He still
thinks
like one, regardless of his expanded consciousness. Think, brother. Go back to the formation of the Barrier.”

Mujahid drew ambient necropotency into his well. He needed the clarity of power if he was going to wade through this mental swamp.

What do I know with certainty?

First, Yotto traveled to the Pinnacle to open a diplomatic relationship. But Kagan, in his irrational fear, murdered Yotto, sparking the war with Barathosia and the formation of the Great Barrier.

There has to be more.

Kagan went on to become a tyrant, ruling the Three Kingdoms in all but name. He managed to go so far as to forge entries in the Book of Life—the sacrosanct journal of the god Arin—without anyone being any wiser. In so doing, he elevated a king to the status of emperor with the slip of a pen. And he orchestrated the failure of a decades-old treaty that kept war in check within the Three Kingdoms.

Yes, but how is it all related?

Mujahid drew more power into his well, allowing it to flow through his mind and coalesce his thoughts. In moments, it all snapped into focus.

I’m not finding a pattern because no pattern exists. It’s chaos. Chaos in its purest form.

“Correct,” Nuuan said.

So Nuuan could read minds as well.

“Sometimes,” Nuuan said. “But to your point, Kagan was able to achieve what he did by shifting all eyes away from himself. He pitted the Shandarian Union against Tildem, and Religar against them both. Anything to draw attention away from the Obsidian Throne.”

“Malvol brings chaos to the world to draw attention away from his
true
plan. To use Kaitlyn to compel Shealynd to grant him full deification.”

“I’ve done everything possible to point you in the right direction without violating mystical laws older than the multiverse itself. There may be repercussions for what I’m about to say. Unless another Mukhtaar Lord ascends, Malvol will become a god. He will consume the power of the other gods and give birth to chaos of a magnitude you cannot comprehend without a non-elevated human mind.”

There wasn’t a member of the clan who would survive the ascension process, as far as Mujahid was concerned. To become a Mukhtaar Lord required near-perfect self-knowledge and a mastery of necromancy few possessed. It required intuitive understanding and acceptance of Mukhtaarian philosophy. But more, it required the anointing of a god.

“
We
did it,” Nuuan said.

“
We
were
ready
.”

Nuuan sniffed. “You have a selective memory.”

Nuuan’s body flickered, disappeared, then pulsated back into existence.

“This is taking more power than I can afford to expend,” Nuuan said. “I’ll make this quick. That
fog
you’re always wondering about…the one surrounding our well of power? It changed when you ascended.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I emerged from the Rite of Testing, it appeared around my well. But it was dormant. When you stepped out of the Rite, it crackled to life. It’s a weapon. And I believe it takes three to wield it.”

Mujahid might have suspected the same thing, had he been the first to ascend. Being the second, he only knew the fog in one state—energized.

“Then we have work to do,” Mujahid said.

“What’s your plan?”

“We must prepare Nicolas for the Rite.”

Nuuan’s eyes narrowed. “The cross-dressing postulant? His bollocks haven’t even dropped yet. He has, what, three symbols of power?”

“Two, last I checked.”

“Two? Why don’t you just toss him into the lake of fire yourself and save Zubuxo the effort? How in the hells will he survive the Rite with two symbols of power?”