"Talia Miral's cockroach-like ability to flee moments before death and so snatch survival from the jaws of defeat continued to be a problem until Her Eternal Majesty decided to prioritise the woman's death. Given the relatively small size of Miral's kingdom, the military challenges of punishing her for her betrayal were insignificant. However, it is said that the horrors witnessed by the Empire's troops there were beyond those of any of the other Sorcerer-Kings. Regardless, Talia Miral faced the Empire's forces for the last time amidst the ruins of her capital city. Its name is lost to the ages as, after her victory, the Undying Queen ordered it razed to the ground and removed from all records. As for Talia Miral herself, it is said that Her Eternal Majesty pinned the sorceress in place, preventing her escape, and then annihilated her from existence so utterly that all that was left of her was dust."

Two Thousand Years of Empire by Jahangir Amini

=====

Ester slowly made her way down the passage, trying to move as quietly as she could. Occasional witchlights cast a dim glow across the stone blocks lining the wall and gravel shifted under her feet, forcing her to tread even more carefully. The dirt on the walls and rough ground made the place feel abandoned, but that didn't fit with the very much active wards, or the witchlights for that matter.

The passage ahead started to widen until she could see it opened into a chamber ahead, the space at the end better lit by the witchlights. The feel of the tainted magic in the air was growing stronger, putting her on edge. As she got closer to the end of the passage she began to hear voices in there too. She need to be careful, to move slowly and not reveal herself. She really didn't want to charge straight into a dangerous situation, not when she had no idea what was going on.

Ester crept carefully forward, even slower than before, staying close to the stone wall until she reached the end of the passage. Luckily it only came out at the back of the chamber. She pressed herself against the wall and leant forward slightly to peer round the corner.

The moment she did, Ester had to stifle a horrified gasp as her heart missed a beat.

A robed figure stood in front of a polished stone table, chanting out a ritual. She had a woman's voice and both their hands were raised, one forming symbols to focus the ritual, the other clutching a wicked looking knife. A squirming man lay face up on the table, strapped in place and gagged.

Ester only recognised some of the words. She had not idea what the spell was, but the feel of the magic swirling round the chanting figure told her more than enough. Necromancy.

She stood there for a second, all thoughts of pulling her head back out of sight gone, stunned by what she was seeing. It was more than horrifying, a necromantic ritual being cast in front of her eyes!

Ester briefly tore her attention away from the chanting woman. The whole chamber was bathed in magic. The witchlights illuminated the rough stone blocks lining its walls and wards played over it in sheets of angry runes, mixed with the twisted feel of the necromantic magic. A handsome, young man and a plain-faced woman were sat in the middle of a circle that was carved out of the floor, seemingly oblivious to any discomfort from the gravel under their backsides, and everything else going on around them for that matter.

She couldn't see their faces, but she couldn't help but suspect they were the two Golden Shadows she'd fought. They weren't protesting or moving, just sitting still like an audience at a show. Magic played over them, flowing into them as they sat there. It was just like the wards she'd fought off earlier, but less subtle. More of a crude instrument, warping their perceptions.

Ester shuddered. Could that have been her if she hadn't fought off the wards' influence? What were they doing down here? This wasn't some theft, they were clearly caught likes flies in a web.

Had the Golden Shadows been betrayed by their necromancer? Why did they even have a necromancer? What help would that be in getting them into the vaults? Why was there a ritual table there too? They couldn't have brought that with them.

The necromancer's chanting rose to a crescendo as she lifted the knife high above her head.

Ester jumped. Great Spirits, she'd been standing there thinking when she needed to do something! In a moment she cleared her mind. Banished her fears and doubts. Thought became action.

"Njadh'ai'diwaien jel'saig." She put her full strength behind the spell. In an instant the air in front of her solidified into four razor sharp, red hot blades.

The necromancer started to bring her knife down.

The blades flashed across the space between them too fast for the eye to follow, leaving colourful trails across Ester's vision. There was a brief flare of magic from a failing Schema and then they sliced straight through the woman. She didn't even have time to scream. One moment she was chanting, the next pieces of her were sliding apart and falling to the floor with wet thumps.

Ester didn't hesitate. Almost before the woman had finished collapsing, she cast again.

"Saig." The necromancer's remains erupted into blindingly hot flame.

Ester didn't release the spell until she was confident there wasn't much left of the necromancer beyond ash. When she did, she was left panting with a heady combination of fear and outrage as she blinked the lights out of her eyes. What was going on? Something was badly wrong. None of it made sense.

"What the fuck did you just do?! She was going to help us!" The young man had stood up, joined a moment later by the other Golden Shadow. Both of them looked utterly furious.

"Who the hell do you think you are? Coming in here and stealing our prize?!"

Their very words condemned them. Ester nearly burnt them to ash without another thought. Two people with the Talent claiming a necromancer was helping them, she'd be doing her duty to the Throne if she did. It was tempting, she knew they were already criminals and they were dangerous, they'd escaped the last time she'd tried to capture them.

But no.

Something didn't add up here. She needed to work out what.

The Golden Shadows were still under the influence of that ward, whatever it did. Ester wasn't sure what it was doing to them, but she could work that out later. Either way, they were trapped for now. She had time to think.

Then there was the third person, still strapped down on the ritual table. His outraged cries were stifled by a gag, but if her suspicions were correct, he'd be the third member of the Golden Shadows. The one who'd put a bag over her head. She dismissed the flair of anger she felt at that memory. She needed to be calm and rational now. Letting her emotions take over would get someone killed, possibly her.

Ester stepped slowly into the chamber, carefully looking around, left, right and up too at the roof too. She wasn't going to be ambushed again, not if she could help it.

Once she was satisfied the coast was clear, she cautiously started making her away around the edge of the chamber, towards the ritual table. She chose her steps with care, watching the room and the trapped Golden Shadows with both mundane and arcane sight.

Luckily all they did was shout abuse at her, trapped as they were. Ester was still careful as she made her way round to the far side of the ritual table, making sure that she could see all three of them at once.

With one final glance at the angry thieves Ester turned most of her attention to the third one. He was blonde, very well muscled and as naked as the day he was born. In another time, she might have been distracted by the sight. As it was, the dead necromancer and rune covered ritual table were enough to banish all embarrassment from her mind.

She took a moment to study the runes on the stone table. Most of them were familiar, but not all. Some just looked fundamentally wrong. Together they formed patterns she simply couldn't understand, but she could feel a faint, twisted magical miasma around the table when she was this close. Normally she'd have been desperate to work out how they came together, but not these. Definitely not these…

With a shudder she turned her attention back to the bound man. Leather straps secured his limbs tightly to the table and a gag stopped him from doing more than making muffled groans. His bare chest was rising and falling as he gasped for breath and his blue, terror-filled eyes were fixed on her.

"Basch." The gag split into two before Ester flexed her will to pull it away and out of the man's mouth.

"Please, you have to help us! There's something badly wrong here! The necromancer, you killed her. There might be more. You need to get out of here!"

"Quiet!" Ester hissed. The last thing she wanted was his babbling attracting whatever else was down here. Thankfully he did shut up. "Are you one of the Golden Shadows?"

"The Golden Shadows?" He looked genuinely, convincingly confused for a brief second, before embarrassment flashed across his face. "Yes. I'm not going to lie, not now. Not here."

"I see." So he was almost certainly the one that had put a bag over her head. An hour ago she'd have been delighted to have an opportunity to get her revenge for that. By bringing him to justice of course. Now though, it suddenly didn't seem so important. "Why were you working with a necromancer?"

"Working with?!" He looked genuinely horrified. Ester already knew they were good liars though. If they weren't they wouldn't have survived as long as they had. "I… No! She was going to turn me into some kind of monstrosity!"

"You came down here together. It is hardly a surprise that a necromancer would prove untrustworthy."

"We'd never seen her before in our lives! We got down here and she came from one of the passages and…" He trailed off.

"A convenient lie." Ester wasn't sure he was lying. It didn't quite fit, but the idea that House Marcni had a necromancer living in their vaults was beyond insane.

"Are you mad woman?! I'm lying here naked, strapped to a fucking ritual table. Do you think we carried that down with us too? Or that whatever that was," he flicked his eyes towards his comrades, "came out of nowhere? We've blundered straight into whatever dark secret House Marcni is hiding and you're blaming us for it." He sounded utterly desperate and it was just about plausible enough that Ester couldn't dismiss it out of hand, much as she wanted to. She had to ruthlessly clamp down on the urge to start giggling manically. The stress was clearly getting to her.

"Start talking. Tell me exactly what happened. Speak like your life depends on it, because it does." They would still hang for their crimes, but that would be a relatively merciful punishment compared with the penalties for working with a necromancer. An idea came to her and Ester allowed herself a moment of smug satisfaction. "I will know if you are lying. Daabru fjal dolox." She intoned a few random words of power and focused her will to create a brief blue glow around both of them. Casting a genuine truth spell was beyond her, but he wouldn't know that.

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The thief visibly swallowed. "I… I understand. We came here to steal from House Marcni's vaults. I admit it. However, it was only the three of us, plus the Duke's son to get us in." That must be the unpleasant young man, Cerve. "We didn't want to be here, but we were forced to by…"

"I do not have time for excuses. Keep to the facts please."

"O o of course my lady." If he wasn't a hardened criminal Ester would have felt bad about the fear in his eyes. "We found what we were looking for and were going to make our exit, but then Ab… the other two started acting strangely. They were saying that they needed to keep going and find something. I don't know what. They kept switching between treasure and freedom and just talking about a prize. It was like they'd gone completely mad. They wouldn't listen to me, they wouldn't listen to reason. They just kept going deeper and deeper."

Ester shivered. That could have been her. It nearly was.

"Why didn't you just leave?" He was a criminal after all.

"And abandon them?" The man seemed genuinely offended. "They're my friends. I'd die for them, I couldn't just leave them to whatever the fuck this is."

"Necromancy." Ester ignored his wince. If she acknowledged his fear she might not be able to resist giving in to hers. "So you say you came down here, just the three of you thieves, after you tied up the Duke's son."

"I suppose so. I was trying to persuade them to go back, we were already fucked, but they were going to make it worse." Ester had a sudden mad urge to tell him to watch his language. She clamped down on another nervous giggle as it welled up inside her.

"Keep going please."

"Yes... Like I was saying. They were completely mad. They just kept going and then we got in here and they just sat down in the middle of this place. I tried to physically drag them out, but then there was a magic circle or something that knocked me down. By the time I properly got my wits about me, I was tied down on this table while that woman," he turned his head towards where she'd stood, "was muttering about how live ones always made better material." He shuddered violently.

"And then?"

"Then she was chanting and waving her knife around. If you hadn't…" He trailed off.

"I see…" Fear and indecision raced through Ester. It was plausible. Worryingly so. But they'd be good liars. Ester knew the Golden Shadows often wormed their way into places with false identities, if they weren't outstanding liars it would never work. Were they lying to her?

"What now? Will you help us?" Ester looked back down to the bound man and irritation fuelled by months, no years, of disrespect flared in her, despite the terror in his eyes. On some level she knew she was being irrational, but it was hard to keep the situation from getting to her.

"Will you help us, my lady."

"What?"

"My lady, I am a Chartered Mage. You're asking me for help, but you cannot even be bothered to show proper respect." It felt ridiculously petty, but with everything around her looking completely insane, Ester was damned if she was going to accept a lack of respect from a man who'd dropped a sack over her head. Or worked with someone who had.

"Fine! My lady. Sorry! Please, let us go my lady!"

"How do I know you are not lying to me? That, if I release you and your friends, you won't just attack me from behind or help some other necromancer?" The man shook his head violently.

"Fu… This is crazy! We're thieves, not depraved madmen. We've been careful to never even kill anyone and you're accusing us of working with a necromancer?! While we're imprisoned and about to be used in some horrific ritual?! Are you really that pigheaded? The ritual table was already here. The trap was already here. The Marcni's are balls deep in something far worse than anything we've ever done! Open your fucking eyes and stop deluding yourself!" He hesitated. "My lady."

This was too much. She didn't know what to do. The idea that the Marcnis would have any involvement with something like this was beyond insane. Great Spirits, Lord Rasce had been utterly horrified by the suggestion there was a necromancer in the vaults. The Marcnis were the most powerful family in the city. Even if they were traitors to the Empire and humanity, they had no reason to pursue something like this.

Equally, these were thieves, but their story made sense. Throne help her, she believed the man, profanity and all, that they were victims here, albeit hardly innocent ones. In the end, it came down to one thing. The place probably had undead in it, if not more necromancers, and thieves or not, she wasn't going to leave the Golden Shadows to die helplessly. She wasn't like them, she was a good person.

"Was it you that threw the sack over my head, outside the Starfall Palace?" Ester had to admit she enjoyed the discomfort that flashed across the man's face at that question.

He hesitated and then sighed. "Yes my lady. It seemed like the best way for us to escape." Ester supposed it might have been at that. She could almost admire the fact that he didn't try to apologise for it. Not that she'd have believed he was sorry if he had.

"Fine. If I release you and your friends, I want your oath that you won't attack or me or try to stop me. There are more important things than catching thieves and I do not want to leave you as prey for undead or any other necromancers. However, I will be taking a risk in releasing you. If you get in my way I will have to assume you were working with the necromancer and I will kill you. Do you understand?" The man nodded frantically.

"I understand my lady. I swear it. We are thieves, not traitors. We want nothing more than to get away from here."

Ester studied him for a few long seconds.

"Good. Basch." Her magic sliced straight through the straps holding him down.

It took the man a moment to realise he was free and then he slowly sat up, wincing slightly as he did.

"Thank you my lady. What about my comrades?" Ester tore her eyes away from his bare body. There might be other necromancers here, she could feel the tainted magic in the air. The sensible thing to do would simply be to turn back and return to the surface now, but the thief had given her too much to think about. If the Marcnis knew about this, she might not like the reception she got at ground level. Even if they didn't, allowing any other necromancers the chance to do whatever they wanted down here was a poor idea. Either way, she needed to work out what was really going on. First though…

"I think your clothes are over there." She gestured with her head. "Stay away from your friends for now and keep quiet, I need to think about how to free them."

While the blonde man hurried over to the pile of discarded clothing, Ester focused on the wards around the other two. There were two key ones, the circle holding them physically and the mental enchantment keeping their delusions in place. The physical one was easy enough, but the other one was far beyond her. However…

Looking beyond reality, Ester traced the flows of magic and runes back into the walls. She might not be able to truly stop the ward through skill, but one thing she'd been thinking about more since her encounter with Mohsen was that skill wasn't always everything. The Schema was most likely hidden behind the stone blocks that lined the chamber.

"Daabru gan saarde'fa." She focused her power and the stone simply crumbled under it, her magic tearing through until it hit something else. With a flash of arcane light the magic surrounding the two thieves came apart. Interesting. She'd need to think about how to protect ward Schemas better. If she survived this.

"They are all yours." She called out to the now fully dressed blonde man and pointed at the other two thieves.

They were still stood there blinking, looking utterly disoriented and confused. "I am going to make sure there are no other necromancers or undead. House Marcni's treasures cannot, must not, be stolen by them. I would advise you to make your escape and beg the Spirits that we do not meet again."

That had sounded suitably dramatic and threatening. With a small smile Ester turned on her heel and headed for one of the other tunnels.

=====

Lord Rasce felt like his heart might explode when he finally emerged from the vaults. He needed to get help and get it fast. Obviously for his House, that went without saying, but also for Lady Mazar. Her bravery was… it was inspirational.

"Guards!" There was already a group of his House's retainers gathered at the entrance to the results. Of course Cerve was nowhere to be seen, the useless little shit. He had probably gone looking for his mother so he could whine to her about how hard done by he was.

"My lord, we are ready to apprehend the thieves." A sergeant stepped forward and saluted him.

Lord Rasce shook his head. "It is far worse than that. The thieves have a necromancer with them." The sergeant blanched and took a step back as the other guards' stoic discipline broke down into agitated muttering.

"A a a necromancer my lord?"

"Indeed." He choose to ignore the sergeant's stutter, news of a necromancer could unman anybody. "Lady Mazar, the Mage, is attempting to delay him, but I fear for her. For the safety and honour of house Marcni we cannot tolerate this degenerate's presence in the Vaults. However, we shall need more forces. I have no wish to sacrifice loyal troops in a futile battle. So you will guard the entrance until more forces can be assembled. Now, where is the Duke?"

The sergeant winced. "The Duke is not here, it seems he is paying an unexpected visit to one of the House's vassals."

Lord Rasce frowned, chewing that over for a second. "And no one is entirely sure where he is?"

"No my lord." Fuck. He needed his brother here. He was not made for this kind of situation! Yet he would need to take the lead. He could not leave Lady Mazar down there with a necromancer. Lord Rasce felt a slight twinge of guilt at his clumsy attempt at seducing her earlier. A mere slip of a girl willing to fight a necromancer and gang of thieves by herself deserved more respect than that.

"Very well. I shall take charge." It was important to show confidence to the House's underlings. Without proper leadership there would be panic. "Sergeant, stay here and hold the entrance to the vaults until reinforcements arrive. Detail two of your men, one to go to the Watch and report what has happened. The other is to go and seek magical assistance." He paused to think. "He will go to Master Scire's residence," that was nearby, "and seek his help and guidance on which other Mages might be able to aid us. Am I understood?"

"My lord." The sergeant saluted. "Larth, you go to the Watch. Vel, do you know where Master Scire lives?"

"Yes sir!"

"Good, go!" Both men saluted and broke into a run, most likely pleased to be away from the necromancer's escape route. The alarm would need to be raised too. It was all very well trying to maintain secrecy when they were dealing with a small group of thieves, but not when there was a necromancer on the loose.

"Very good. I shall sound the alarm and muster the House's forces. I shall return as soon as possible. House Marcni is relying on you to hold these doors men!"

"We won't let you down my lord!"

"I know." Lord Rasce gave them a nod and turned for the surface. The last thing his brother would want would be outsiders traipsing through the Vaults, but there was nothing he could do about that. A necromancer trumped all other considerations. Particularly one who had been able to loot the House's greatest treasures.

Even at his fastest pace, which he had to admit was unimpressive, it took Lord Rasce a few minutes to get out from the palace's tunnels and passages. By that time he had at least had the chance to order some servants to sound the alarms and direct others to gather more of the Marcni guards and, more importantly, the Adepts in service to the House.

He emerged into the courtyard at the centre of the Marcni palace complex to the sound of clanging bells. The whole place had descended into chaos. Servants and troops were sprinting by while visitors hurried for the exits. Hopefully there was purpose amidst the chaos, but it was hard to tell.

Lord Rasce stopped for a moment, unsure of what to do next. If only his brother was here!

His heart sank as he realised he had overlooked something. No one had been sent to search for his brother.

Lord Rasce looked around frantically until he spotted Alard. A good man, something senior in the household staff. He could never remember what.

"Ho, Alard!" The servant jogged over to him and bowed.

"Lord Rasce?"

"You have heard about the necromancer in the vaults?"

"Yes my lord." Alard gave him an appropriately grim faced nod.

"I need you to get a few men you can trust and find out where the Duke is. I believe he has left the palace. Someone will know where. Find him and bring him back immediately!"

"Of course my lord." Without another word Alard dashed off, pausing only to grab another servant. Good man.

With that done, perhaps it was time to return to the guards at the entrance to the vaults. Someone would need to coordinate matters once they had assembled a sufficiently large force to fight the necromancer.

Lord Rasce was about to turn back when a heavy, gloved hand descended on his shoulder with a thump. He nearly squawked with surprise before whirling to find himself face to chest with Sir Vitaly Shajarian.

"Lord Rasce!" The man boomed. "What a fortuitous coincidence to find you here! What under the Throne is going on?"

Lord Rasce suppressed a grimace, Sir Vitaly was good fun over a few drinks, but the last thing he needed now was to hear more loud boasts about the man's adventures.

"Sir Vitaly, a pleasure as always, but I am afraid I do not have time for the niceties. There is a necromancer in the family Vaults and I need to coordinate our response."

"A necromancer? Great Spirits! How do you know?" Why did the madman sound almost delighted?!

"I was pursuing the Golden Shadows with Lady Mazar, the Chartered Mage, and she detected him. I went for help."

For the first time since Lord Rasce had met the gigantic man Sir Vitaly appeared lost for words. Of course it did not last more than a couple of seconds.

"Lady Mazar?" He broke into raucous laughter, loud enough to make people stop and stare. "Hahaha! That girl has even more of a nose for finding fights than I do. Still, it wouldn't do for her to get herself killed. We must go at once!"

"We?" Actually… Lord Rasce overrode his instinctive dismissal of the man. Right now Sir Vitaly might be exactly what they needed. By all accounts he was an excellent fighter and if even half the stories he told were true then he was more than merely excellent. He was even ready for a fight, for once his habit of wearing his breastplate and carrying that improbably large sword everywhere might actually be useful. The man would likely be insufferable afterwards, but needs must.

"Yes! I shall aid you in the name of Her Eternal Majesty and all that is right." Sir Vitaly gave Lord Rasce a firm nod and started to stride towards the Vaults, leaving him to hurry to catch up.

"Thank you Sir Vitaly, House Marcni is grateful for your assistance."

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