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What if he meant every word he said?
“Help?” Heston scoffs. “How would you help?”
“You said you need the numbers,” Arluin says. His eyes remain cold, not betraying his true thoughts. “You know I can raise the dead. Let me help.”
Heston’s hand tightens around my shoulder. “Are you prepared to betray the one you love?”
Arluin’s gaze meets mine. Silently I beg him not to do this. Not to follow in his father’s footsteps. His eyes soften. But only for a heartbeat. Then they freeze once more.
His attention returns to his father. “You are my blood,” he says. “This city has shunned me since you left, and I care little for it. Allow me to play a part in its destruction. Don’t turn your back on me again.”
Heston watches him for a long, careful moment. Arluin stares back at him, unflinching.
“Very well,” Heston says. He waves his hand and the obsidian chains around Arluin crumble away, freeing him. Dark magic returns to the shadows. “Do not make me regret this.”
“I won’t, Father.”
Twelve
Hestonshovesmethroughthesewers.Arluinfollowsclosebehind,whileGrizelaandVirionleadtheclamoringundead.OurpathislitbytheghostlywhitelightradiatingfromHeston’shand.Theshadowsdancearoundusasthespellflickers.
We soon reach a sewer grate larger than the one he lured Arluin and me down. Heston comes to a stop and peers at the metallic plate above us. He extinguishes the light, and darkness descends over us.
“Arisga,” Heston commands.
A bolt of dark magic slams into the sewer grate and throws it aside. The metallic plate clatters as it shudders into a nearby wall. I examine the steel rungs leading up to the surface. Maybe Heston will release me from the obsidian chains so that I can climb up to the streets. If he does, maybe I can try to run or teleport away.
But Heston grants me no such chance. He grips my arm.
“Farjud.”
Shadows consume us. When I glance down, I can no longer make out my physical self beneath the cloud of darkness.
In the next instant, we are rushing through the air.
Solid ground greets my feet. The shadows fade away to reveal Nolderan.
We are deep within the side streets winding through the Upper City. Few lights shine through the windows at this late hour, and most folk will be tucked in their beds, oblivious to the threat looming over them.
Arluin appears from the hole next, the two necromancers behind him. Then the undead scramble out, piling on top of each other as they fight to enter the realm of the living.
“Grizela, you take that road,” Heston says, pointing to the street which veers to the left. “Virion, take the other.”
The two necromancers wordlessly follow his command and lead the undead through the streets, beginning their destruction of Nolderan. With their dark magic, they tear through the magical enchantments which secure houses. The ghouls are free to pour inside, their ravenous hands outstretched as they search for the living.
Screams erupt through the night. Grizela and Virion weave in and out of the houses, raising the corpses inside. The undead rampage ahead, leaving a trail of fresh bodies for the necromancers to reanimate.
It doesn’t take long for the horde of undead to double in size.
So many lives will be lost tonight. If the undead are not stopped soon, this could mean the end of the magi.
Of Nolderan.
Heston watches his undead storm the streets. When the path has cleared, he urges me onward.
In the distance, fire rages through the Lower City. Smoke billows into the sky and suffocates the stars. Even when Heston drags me down several streets, his undead destroying everything in their path, I find no guards. They must still be focused on containing the destruction sweeping through the Lower City, unaware of the real danger.
By the time they realize, it will be too late. Heston’s army will already be of an unimaginable size.
