Necromancer Awakening (42 page)

Through the murk, a great yellow wall, pulsating with inner light, rose from below and to the west, turning inward on itself in a gentle curve. It disappeared beneath them, creating a straight line where yellow met nothing, leaving the wall on one side and a void on the other.

The great barrier,
Nicolas projected to Lamil.
It isn’t a dome at all. It’s a sphere.

It would appear so.

The Cichlos didn’t know?

There is no reason for us to travel this deep. There is no food for us here.

The closer they approached, the more power flowed into Nicolas’s well. The source of necropotency was so massive, it was as if every living thing on the planet had died in one place. But it wasn’t just necropotency. There was another power. A power he’d never felt before. The hum of energy was deafening, even through the water.

A cacophony of voices entered his mind and he lifted his hands to the side of his head, trying to block them out.

He who walks between worlds
, said a female voice.

Who are you?
Nicolas said.

We cannot leave here until you bring down the sky
, the female said.
Our sacrifice protects the children. I…must go.

The guide in his mind’s eye winked out of existence. He had come within feet of the lake floor and could see the barrier plunging into the ground next to him. The ground where the barrier penetrated shook, and the lake bed vibrated like rocks on an archaeologist’s sifter. He was close enough to touch the barrier if he chose, but he was sure it would kill him if he did.

One thought haunted him—if the guide led him here, it could mean only one thing; Zubuxo was on the other side of the barrier…or perhaps
inside
of it
. But there had been more than one voice talking to him, and one of them was a woman.

He drew power from the barrier and his thoughts came into sharp focus.

It was obvious to him why the archmage took the Orb of Arin. It contained Arin’s power, just like Zubuxo’s orb contained Zubuxo’s power. The archmage would need its power, the power of the god of life, to construct a barrier of this magnitude from
life magic
.

Even the earthquakes made sense. The barrier was moving and vibrating continent-sized chunks of land beneath the surface of the planet.

The cause of the diminishing power of the gods as well as their absence was clear to see. The truth was the gods were
never
gone. They were here all along,
inside
the barrier. And as far as he could tell, they sacrificed themselves for the sake of children.

The unborn,
he corrected himself.
But what does that mean?

He didn’t know. But as they began the ascent to Aquonome, he understood something else.

He understood how to get back home.

Nicolas didn’t care if the high priest liked it. He just needed the man to do it.

The high priest had been reluctant to call the elders together, but Lamil asked Nicolas to stay behind while he persuaded the high priest to relent. After more than an hour of waiting, they emerged from the high priest’s quarters.

“I concur that what you discovered is disturbing,” the high priest said. “But what you ask is not easy to grant. You ask me to grant aid to the people who stranded us here. The people who hunt us like animals.”

“Sabba,” Nicolas said, “I can only imagine how you feel. I know the atrocities they committed against you and I respect your judgment. But I can’t do this alone. And if I don’t succeed, you’ll never see Terilya again. The fate of everyone in Aquonome hinges on the success or failure of my mission.”

“Tell him the rest, Nicolas,” Lamil said.

Nicolas looked back at Lamil with uncertainty. This was going to get someone’s attention.

“The throne of Zubuxo is empty, Sabba,” Nicolas said.

The priests surrounding the high priest gasped and argued among themselves.

“This is blasphemous,” one of the priests said.

The high priest waved his hand at the angry cichlos and faced Lamil. “Is this true?”

“Nicolas has never given me reason to doubt his integrity, Sabba,” Lamil said.

“How do you know this, my son?” the high priest asked Nicolas.

Nicolas was taken aback for a moment. This was the first time the high priest had ever addressed him in such a familiar fashion. He looked at Siek Lamil for approval.

“Go on,” Lamil said.

Nicolas recounted his journey to the Plane of Death, and subsequent trip to the bottom of the lake. By the time he was finished, everyone in the room was speechless.

“This is not possible,” one of the priests said. “He was hallucinating, nothing more.”

“It is not merely possible,” the high priest said. “It is understandable. It explains much of what none of us could comprehend. Nicolas merely gives voice to the fear buried within our hearts. He has grasped what every master necromancer in Aquonome failed to see.”

The high priest stood next to Nicolas and faced the other priests. Lamil appeared surprised by the gesture.

“If what Nicolas says is correct,” the high priest said, “then the fates of Erindor and Terilya are merely the beginning of a much larger problem. If Zubuxo is not restored to his throne, all living beings will be condemned to undeath, unable to pass into the Plane of Peace.”

“I have to put an end to this,” Nicolas said. “The Orb of Arin is the source of that barrier. And if the orb is at the Pinnacle….” He let the sentence go unfinished.

“We will do whatever we can to assist you,” the high priest said. “There is the issue of your training we must address.”

“Sabba, no,” one of the priests said. “The last time—”

“Is he ready?” The high priest turned to Lamil, ignoring the priest’s comments.

Lamil nodded. “There is nothing else I can teach him.”

“Then it is decided. Nicolas, you are to be elevated to the midnight blue. You will take your rightful place among the master necromancers of Aquonome.”

Had he heard that right? How could he be a master necromancer?

“Your ordination will take place tomorrow. Tonight you will spend in meditation. Siek Lamil, see that he is ready at the appointed time.”

“Of course, Sabba.”

The priests withdrew, leaving Nicolas and Lamil behind.

“That was…most unexpected,” Lamil said. “Though it doesn’t surprise me. There is little more I can teach you. The rest you must learn by experience.”

Nicolas didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t look so surprised. I doubt anyone here is. Come, let’s discuss your preparations.”

Nicolas followed Lamil into the training dome.

“I knew you’d get there before me,” Toridyn said. “No one’s ever mastered two symbols in less than a year. Crazy. What’s your secret?”

“Ignorance and immaturity didn’t hurt,” Nicolas said.

“Funny,” Toridyn said. “Fine. Keep all the glory for yourself.”

Nicolas tried his best to smile, but it was difficult.

“So…you’re really leaving?”

Nicolas nodded. “I don’t have a choice, Tor. I don’t know what’s more important, getting back home or bringing that damned barrier down. But I can’t do either here.”

Toridyn was about to say something, but was interrupted when Siek Lamil entered the room.

Lamil was carrying something under his arm, but Nicolas couldn’t tell what it was.

“Do you remember the responses I taught you?” Lamil asked.

“I’d be lucky to remember my name right now.”

“Wear this. Then follow me. Both of you.”

He handed Nicolas a white garment, like an alb that priests and altar boys wore. Nicolas changed and they marched out of the dorm.

When they entered the temple dome, a large crowd had gathered. Three student formations spread out in front of the Orb of Zubuxo in silence. Lamil led him to a point between the orb and the formations, and then faced the high priest.

A priest stepped forward and handed Lamil a large square of dark material. Lamil took and unfolded it into a large, midnight blue robe. He held it open, behind Nicolas, and Nicolas slipped his arms into it. It buttoned in front, from top to bottom like a priest’s cassock, but there was something else. It was identical to the robe in the mosaic at Mujahid’s estate.

The ordination ritual began and the high priest intoned the words Lamil told Nicolas to expect.

“Nicolas Ardirian,” the high priest said when Nicolas was dressed. “You hold the powers of the priestly caste, but you have not been elevated to the priesthood. Do you seek elevation?”

“Sabba,” Nicolas said, hoping to get all the words right. “I seek to be counted among the priesthood. I seek elevation.”

“Siek Lamil Jiskossa,” the high priest said. “Is Nicolas Ardirian, your student, worthy of elevation?”

“Sabba, all cichlos—” He stopped as if uncertain of how to proceed. “All
people
are weak and unworthy of elevation. We elevate for the sake of others, not for the sake of the priest.”

Nicolas kneeled and the high priest and his assistants chanted the names of the gods, invoking their blessing on him. Each time they named a god, Nicolas felt something strange near his well of power, as if the boundary of the well was being pulled or pushed against.

When the invocation was over, the high priest stepped forward and held a hand above Nicolas’s forehead.

A subtle hum reached Nicolas’s ears, and a black aura formed around each of the webbed fingers of the high priest’s hand. The aura grew larger and enveloped Nicolas in shadow, making it impossible for him to see. The boundaries of his well of power grew outward like a balloon being inflated, and something burned at its core. When the expansion was complete, the aura vanished and he could see the high priest once more.

The high priest handed Lamil a midnight blue cowl. Lamil placed the cowl around Nicolas’s shoulders and fastened it in front.

“Nicolas Ardirian,” the high priest said. “Rise as priest,
sab
, master necromancer.”

Nicolas stood up on legs that were shaky at first. His well of power was full when he entered the temple, but now that the ritual had expanded it, he felt as if it were empty.

“Priests of Zubuxo,” the high priest said, no longer chanting. “I present to you Sab Nicolas Ardirian.”

Applause filled the temple changing the atmosphere from solemn to joyous. Nicolas wasn’t sure how to react to the applause. He had never been good at receiving praise from people. When the applause died down, he smiled and shrugged awkwardly.

Toridyn was smiling so broadly Nicolas thought he was in danger of unhinging his jaw. In a burst of excitement, Toridyn rushed forward and engulfed Nicolas in a bear hug.

Nicolas laughed. “Ok, happy fish. I think that’s probably too much for the occasion.”

Lamil gave Toridyn a disapproving look as he released Nicolas, but Toridyn kept smiling.

“Sab Nicolas,” the high priest said. “May the robe and cowl you wear be an ever-present reminder of the dangers and challenges you will face in the execution of your priesthood.”

The high priest extended his hand, and Nicolas realized he was trying to shake hands according to the human custom. Nicolas reached out, surprised by the gesture, and gave the high priest’s hand a firm shake.

“I’ll fix this, Sabba,” Nicolas said. “I’ll confront my father, and I’ll bring down that barrier.”

Nicolas had never been so sure about something in his life.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX