The book of the dead, p.1
The Book of the Dead, page 1
part #3 of The Counterfeit Sorcerer Series
The Book of
the Dead
Book Three of The
Counterfeit Sorcerer
A Novel by Robert Kroese
Copyright ©2019 Robert Kroese. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or other—except for brief quotations in reviews, without the prior permission of the author.
Prologue
Beata’s voice came to me on the wind howling through the valley, calling my name: Konrad… Konrad… Konrad…
I ran into the wind, my path illuminated by the full moon overhead. Rounding a bend, I saw the shadows of ancient stones jutting out of the ground and I realized where I was: the Maganyos Valley, where lay the ruins of the temple called Romok. Despite the horrors I knew that place held, I did not slow. “Beata!” I cried. “Where are you?”
Her voice called to me again, louder now: Konrad… Konrad… Konrad…
I ran toward the sound, which seemed to be coming from a dark tunnel formed by one stone slab resting at an angle against another. I felt for my rapier, but it was not at my side. Cursing, I ran toward the darkness. I got on my hands and knees and crawled inside. As I progressed, the tunnel became narrower, and soon I realized I could neither go forward nor retreat. Then the tunnel began to constrict around me, and I realized it was not a tunnel at all, but some sort of shadowy creature that had seized me: a massive kovet, like the one I had used to blot out the moon during the battle with Voros Korom.
Then the part of the creature that covered my face peeled away, and for a moment I was blinded by the glare of an intense red light. When my eyes adjusted, I saw that it was no kovet that held me, but the giant demon Voros Korom himself, his mutilated eyes illuminated by the glow from a lamp that hung from a chain in the center of a vast underground vault.
“It can’t be,” I gasped. “You’re dead! I killed you!”
Voros Korom laughed. “You killed her too, and yet you come when she calls.”
I turned my head to see Beata, my beloved, lying dead on an altar atop a raised dais. Blood poured over the edges of the altar.
“No!” I cried, and found myself released from the demon’s grasp. I fell and landed in a pool of slimy muck. Pulling myself to my feet, I saw that I was now in the swamp in Veszedelem where I had met Vili’s mother. Zombie-like people trudged through the muck toward the mysterious glow of the temple. I felt the pull as well, just as I had when I had been here before, but this time I was able to resist.
It’s just a dream, I told myself. You’re not really in Veszedelem.
“That depends on your point of view,” said Beata’s voice from behind me. I turned to see her standing there, almost knee-deep in the muck, wearing a dirty cotton gown. She seemed to be unharmed, but from the way she looked at me, I knew something was wrong.
“You’re not Beata,” I said.
“No,” she admitted. “I am sorry, I cannot control how I appear to you.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Amira. I am one of the sorcerers in Sotetseg known as the Masters.”
“Then this is not a dream?”
“It is a dream. I have come to you while you are sleeping, when your mind is more receptive. With the brand, you have the ability to communicate telepathically with those like myself, but your power is still weak.”
“What do you know about me?”
“We have been watching you for some time. We are aware of your dealings with Eben. We know he has asked you to bring him a book.”
“Then you know that he schemes against you in your own fortress.”
“Eben is of no great concern to us at the moment. It is true that he has gained power over the demons of Sotetseg, but we face a much greater danger. This is why I have come to you.”
“You speak of Arnyek the destroyer.”
“You know of Arnyek?”
“A sorcerer named Domokos told me about him. Domokos said that Arnyek wishes to destroy the universe in order to end the suffering of the people of Veszedelem.”
“That is so. Did Domokos tell you of the history of Sotetseg?”
“He told me of the decay of Veszedelem, and how, in order to save it, the sorcerer Bolond built the keep called Sotetseg. He said that after a devastating attack on Sotetseg by the forces of Arnyek, there was a falling out between Bolond and the few sorcerers who remained alive, called the Masters. Bolond fled to my world, Orszag, and the Masters sealed themselves into an unreachable section of the keep.”
“Yes, and since then, the three of us—Foli, Parello and I—have striven to find a way to defeat Arnyek. Unfortunately, we have only been able to keep him at bay, and he grows ever stronger. I fear that we have only a few weeks before he launches an attack that will overwhelm our defenses and destroy Sotetseg. If that happens, there will be nothing to stop Arnyek. All of reality will crumble—including your own world.”
“Why do you tell me this?”
“Because we need your help. You must retrieve the Book of the Dead, but you must not give it to Eben. Instead, you must bring it to us.”
I laughed. “And why should I trust you any more than I trust Eben?”
“I do not expect you to trust me, but if you believed Domokos, you know what I say about Arnyek is true. We cannot defeat him without the wisdom of Bolond, and Bolond has abandoned us. The Book of the Dead is our only hope.”
“You are saying Bolond wrote the book?”
“It is said to be the journal he kept about his experiments with necromancy.”
“Then it is true what Eben said? That with the book, Eben could bring Beata back?”
“It is possible. But you must not be tempted. Raising the dead would unleash powers you cannot possibly control.”
“But you can control them?”
“We do not intend to use the book for necromancy, but rather to find a way to defeat Arnyek. When Arnyek has been vanquished, we will destroy the book. It is too dangerous to risk it falling into the wrong hands.”
“You mean because someone else might try to use it to raise the dead?”
“That, or… you must understand, the book holds secrets that could be damaging to powerful people in your world. We would not see any more bloodshed if we can avoid it.”
“I don’t understand. What secrets? Whom do they threaten?”
“I do not have time to explain now. I must go help the others prepare for Arnyek’s attack before it is too late. Follow Eben’s instructions to retrieve the book from under the city, but do not give it to him. Bring it to Sotetseg, and when you are in the courtyard, call out my name. Demons loyal to me will find you and bring you to me. Will you do this?”
“I will get the book,” I said. “I cannot make any promises about what I will do with it until then.”
Amira in the form of Beata nodded. “I am confident you will make the right choice when the moment comes. I cannot bring your beloved back, but I believe I can rid you of your brand, if you still desire it. Come to me when you have the book and I will do what I can. I’m afraid I can be of no further help to you now. I wish you good luck.”
Chapter One
By the time I awoke, the dream had already begun to fade, as dreams do. I got out of bed and saw that I was alone in my room at the Lazy Crow. Vili and Rodric must have gotten up already; sunlight poured through the window. They were probably eating breakfast with Ilona in the tavern downstairs. I was tempted to join them, but there was something I had to do first.
I reopened an old wound on my hand to draw blood and then sent my mind to the shadow world, Veszedelem. I no longer needed to seek permission to enter Sotetseg from the unblinking man in the guard tower, as I had mastered the ability of traveling to any location in Veszedelem with which I was familiar. I appeared in the courtyard and then made my way to the room where Eben had left the bell for summoning him. I might have gone directly to the room, but I didn’t want to be caught unawares by any demons who might be roaming the passageways. I encountered no one.
Eben appeared within a few minutes, and we went together to the small library where we always met. The odor of mildew had gotten worse since my last visit, and I imagined that some of the books had visibly deteriorated since I’d first come.
“I take it by your visit here that you have decided to bring me the Book of the Dead?” Eben asked.
“I make no promises. If you know where the book is hidden, why did you not retrieve it yourself when you were in Nagyvaros?”
“There are obstacles to retrieving the book. I was able to get close, but my plans were interrupted when the acolytes sent the gendarmes after me. Fortunately, I have learned much in the past few days, thanks to my newly acquired status in Sotetseg.”
“What are these obstacles?”
“There are three. The first is the maze of tunnels itself. I have already mapped out many of the upper tunnels, and in fact my own estate in the Hidden Quarter will give you access to them. I have hidden the map in the pages of a book on herbology, which you will find on a bookshelf in my study toward the rear of the house.”
“And the second?”
“The second obstacle is the creature called Szornyeteg, which Bolond brought from Veszedelem to guard the cavern that allows access to the lower tunnels. It was the Szornyeteg that prevented me from reaching the book. The creature lives at the bottom of a deep pit and will kill anyone who tries to cross the bridge that spans it. I attemp
“Then how do you expect me to get past it?”
“I have learned how Bolond tamed the monster. There is an enchanted lyre that, when it nears the Szornyeteg, will play a tune that will lull the creature into docility.”
“And where will I find this lyre?”
“It is where all relics end up: at Regi Otthon.”
“You suggest I break into the Temple of Turelem in Delivaros? I’d be better off facing the monster.”
“Are you not allies with the man who now rules Nagyvaros? Surely you can exert some pressure on him to request a relic from the Cult.”
“Even if I could, Delivaros is currently under siege by the Barbaroki. It may be impossible to go there.”
“You’re a clever young man, Konrad. Use the situation to your advantage. Delivaros is in need of aid. Nagyvaros is in a position to provide it.”
“The Torzseki will not be anxious to engage the Barbaroki while they are still securing their position in Nagyvaros.”
“The Torzseki will not refuse a chance to gain influence in Delivaros and vanquish their old foes, the Barbaroki. They only need a powerful sorcerer on their side to tip the scales in their favor.”
“I do not wish to become the court sorcerer for the Torzseki.”
“Not even to bring back Beata?”
“Do not speak her name again, warlock. What is the third obstacle?”
“The book is said to be locked in an enchanted box that can only be opened by a certain key. I have attempted to determine what happened to this key, but have had no success. However, if you bring the box to me, I may be able to open it.”
I did not tell Eben that I knew exactly where the key was. “What then?”
“Then I will bring Bea—your beloved back from the dead.”
“And yourself, I assume.”
“Naturally.”
“I will kill you again.”
Eben smiled. “You are welcome to try.”
Chapter Two
I went downstairs to meet Rodric, Vili and Ilona, who were still eating breakfast. Almost no time had passed during my discussion with Eben. Ilona looked relieved to see me; she was the only one of our group besides me who knew about the Book of the Dead, and she’d sworn not to say anything until we could all discuss the matter together.
“Was it that bad?” Rodric asked, looking at my face as I approached.
I gave a grim smile. My visit to Veszedelem had drained me more than I realized. I wearily sat down and tore a piece of bread from the half-loaf that rested on the table.
“I’ve had discussions with sorcerers in Veszedelem this morning,” I said.
“Sorcerers?” Vili asked. “Another in addition to Eben?”
“I was visited in my dreams by someone who called herself Amira. She claimed to be one of the so-called ‘Masters,’ the sorcerers who once ruled Sotetseg and have sealed themselves off in an inaccessible part of that keep.”
“A visitor in your dreams,” Rodric said. “If it were anyone but you speaking, I’d think they’d been smoking Troyan milkweed. What did this Amira want?”
I glanced at Ilona, who nodded. “There is a book hidden in the tunnels under Nagyvaros,” I said, “called the Book of the Dead.”
“This story has an inauspicious start,” Rodric observed.
“Indeed,” I replied. “But I have actually begun in the middle. Ilona will have to tell you the beginning.”
Ilona nodded and then proceeded to tell the story she had told me the previous evening.
“So you believe,” Rodric said, “that Varastis was your father?”
“It seems likely.”
“Where did he get this key?” Rodric asked. Ilona had removed the chain holding the key and placed it on the table where we could all see it. In the dim light of the tavern, its glow was unmistakable.
“I do not know. Perhaps from Bolond himself.”
“And why do you seek the book?”
“My father obviously wanted me to find it. For what reason, I do not know. That is a mystery I hope to solve. What I do know is that I cannot return to Delivaros after all that I have seen.”
“You may have to,” I said. “According to Eben, there is a monster, called Szornyeteg, guarding the passageway that leads to the book. It can only be passed by one bearing a magical lyre that is in the hands of the acolytes.”
“The Lyre of Dallam?” Ilona asked. “It was said to be destroyed along with the rest of the artifacts retrieved from the tunnels three hundred years ago, during the Great Purification.”
“I’d bet my bow that’s a lie,” Rodric said.
“Very likely,” I replied. “The acolytes claim to destroy all the artifacts they find, but I’m inclined to believe Eben in this matter. I suspect all the ‘destroyed’ artifacts are kept somewhere deep inside Regi Otthon.”
“Then you think the Cult of Turelem is built on a lie?” Ilona asked. I could hear in her voice that she was trying to muster outrage, but clearly the possibility had already occurred to her.
“I think the Cult of Turelem is primarily interested in promoting the Cult of Turelem,” I said. “Whether or not the acolytes approve of their use, magical artifacts have power. I haven’t often seen powerful people willingly give up power.”
“Why does Eben want the book?” Vili asked.
“He thinks he can use it to recover his physical form, to leave Veszedelem.”
“To return from the dead,” Rodric said.
“Yes.”
“But you’re not going to give it to him?” Vili asked.
“No.”
“You plan to bring it to Amira?”
“If what she says is true, I may have little choice. But I don’t know yet.”
“Then you have another reason to seek the book?”
I hesitated. Rodric said, “He wants to bring Beata back.”
“No!” Ilona cried. “Konrad, you can’t! Perhaps not all magic is evil, but surely we can agree that necromancy is wrong.”
“I have made no decisions on the matter,” I said gruffly. “Before I do, I would like to see this book.”
“Agreed,” said Rodric. “There’s no use in fighting amongst ourselves, at least not until we know what we’re fighting about.”
“Then we’re agreed that we seek the Book of the Dead?” I asked.
“Aye,” said Rodric.
“Aye,” said Ilona, with an uncertain glance at me.
Vili hesitated a moment but then nodded. “You freed my parents from torment, Konrad. I go where you go.”
Vili’s comment cut me like a knife, but I managed not to let my shame show. I wanted to tell Vili the truth, but it was too late. No good could come from telling him now that his parents remained trapped in an endless loop somewhere between our world and Veszedelem. I would have to find a way to free them eventually, even if it meant keeping the warlock’s brand. If I brought the book to Amira, would she be able to save them? Perhaps. One more reason to get my hands on the book.
“Even if this lyre is in Regi Otthon, how can we get it?” Rodric said. “With the Barbaroki surrounding Delivaros, we can’t get inside the city.”
“Eben suggested we appeal to Nebjosa. Offer to help him deal with the Barbaroki in return for getting the acolytes to turn over the lyre.”
“Sounds dangerous,” Rodric said. “And won’t Nebjosa wonder what we need the lyre for? He’s not likely to be happy about us sneaking around in the tunnels below his city looking for treasure.”
“There may be an easier way,” Ilona said. “There are many secret passages into Delivaros, and I know of some of them. I may even be able to get us into Regi Otthon.”
“Even so,” Rodric said, “if we don’t know where the artifacts are kept….”
“I know someone who may be able to help,” Ilona said. “Her name is Lara. She is a priestess in the temple. Lara was the closest thing I had to a mother. She often confided to me her doubts about the Cult leadership, and it was her remarks that first caused me to question the Cult’s mission. I told her about the key before I left, and she had plenty of opportunity to inform on me to the leadership but did not. I believe I could persuade her to help us.”
“Well,” said Rodric, “it does sound better than facing this Szornyeteg with bows and rapiers.”
