The Necromancer's Grimoire (37 page)

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Authors: Annmarie Banks

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He pulled his shirt out of his belt and tugged it over his head, then reached for the one she held out for him.

William came down the ladder with a bowl under his arm. He handed it to Montrose.

“I am pleased to see you back with us, my lord.”

Montrose nodded as he shoveled the food into his mouth, using his fingers as a spoon. Nadira took William's arm and led him to the ladder. “DiMarco?” she asked.

“The
reis
insisted on burial at sea before he would order the sails to be set. He said he would not tolerate the corpse on his ship. He said it was cursed.” William would not meet her eyes. The
Grimoire
had told him what happened on deck. The image of Nicolas Flamel was gone.

Nadira closed her eyes and then said, “Kemal Reis gave me the name of his friend and a letter of introduction. We will stay there in his house while I search for the priestess. You will write letters for my lord Montrose. We must try to find the rest of the Templars. Two are in Venice. Where is Reginald?”

William touched the
Grimoire
with a gesture that was becoming very familiar. “I will find him.”

“I know you will. When you do, write to him and tell him about the recovered relics, but hint of it only.”

“Yes.”

“And…”

He looked at her expectantly. She realized she was giving orders. She glanced at Montrose. He had obeyed every order she gave him from the moment he opened his eyes.

“Nadira?” William prompted.

“Keep an eye on the baron. He will not be himself for some time.”

“I remember.”

“That is all. I go above to reassure the
reis
.” He nodded and joined Montrose.

She climbed toward the light. Piri was busy with his men. Sails were being lowered and the ship was turned into the wind to slow it. The seamanship necessary to bring it in gracefully with the tide required exquisite skill and years of experience. She watched him give his orders in Turkish, watched the men respond quickly and efficiently. His eyes touched on her on one of the long visual sweeps he made as he checked every detail of his rigging.

He walked towards her and stopped many paces away. He rubbed the short beard on his chin and his eyes were wary. “
Sultana
,” he said. It was obvious he did not wish to come any closer.

“Piri Reis, I wish to thank you for this voyage. I will leave you soon, in peace and safe from harm.”

It was obvious he wanted her gone as soon as possible. He gave her a polite bow. She tipped her head in acknowledgement. A sailor called out to him and he turned away from her. She said to his back, “Tell Kemaleddin Reis I will return. Tell him.” Piri nodded once and left her alone at the rail.

Now,
she turned and looked at the craggy rocks and high cliffs of Attica,
to find the priestess.

The ship anchored in the small harbor and they disembarked on a warm day full of sunshine and the raucous noise of the seabirds wheeling above them. The sailors hurried them along, eager to get the
jiniri
off their ship and onto Greek soil. Piri Reis did not leave his ship, nor did he return Nadira's polite wave from the rowboat. He turned his back and shouted something to the men in the rigging and Nadira turned to face the shore.
The priestess lives here. Somewhere.
Her eyes swept the gentle waves where they lapped the land.

The town of Eleusis rose from the sea with low stucco buildings and wide streets of crushed stone. Busy men loaded and unloaded small boats that were pulled up on the pebbly shore and carried bundles on their shoulders up the steep bluffs to the market. Nadira wrinkled her nose at the hint of fish, but this small harbor town was free from Istanbul's strong smell of congestion and authority. Eleusis smelled freshly of promise.

The business of their lodging was settled with little trouble. Their host was a man who owned many houses in Attica. He led the small group up the bluffs from the harbor to a modest villa perched on a rise that faced the sea. Montrose paid four longshoremen to carry the wounded Templars up the steep hill in slings made of sailcloth, exactly as Richard had been carried by Massey's men. Nadira shook those images from her mind as she followed them. The landlord opened the house for them.

Later she waited in the walled garden while her rooms were readied and the servants dispersed to obtain food and wine for the new tenants. William was gone to the small market in Eleusis to get his writing materials and Montrose went with him to scout the area. Kemal Reis had given them an enormous amount of money. She sighed.
He wants to be sure I return
to heal his soul
.

She spent her time casting out for the priestess. She held the
Grimoire
in her lap, turning the pages. William had been reluctant to let it go, but had placed it in her hands with a loving caress of its cover.

She looked down at it now. The cover was worn and soiled in places. The very center contained a painted drawing of a circle within circles and a seven pointed star. Strange symbols were written within this circle. She wondered if it were some kind of geometry. The necromancer had been correct when he criticized her education. She had not spent years studying with a teacher. She did not know what the symbols meant or how they were to be used.

The priestess is to be my teacher. Where are you?

She opened the book. On the third page her likeness stared back at her with steely-eyed determination. The next page was a philosophy lesson. She flipped again. Here were the figures and words of Pythagoras. Several pages of mathematics. No more images of men.

The most worn and supple pages were those that contained a single symbol, a long and unintelligible string of letters and then words that described a place. She suspected each page was a portal. When she touched the pages they shimmered.
Why do you not speak to me when I ask?

The book answered her immediately
, If answers are merely given, they will fall upon stony ground. They may lie there until they dry up and blow away. The stony ground must be cultivated, the soil sifted and fertilized. When the answer touches the prepared garden of your mind, it will grow into wordless meaning and comprehension. You will own the answers.

She inhaled slowly.
As I suspected. I am not ready.

Get to work. She waits for you.

Nadira sat up straighter and pinched the pages of the book. “Where?” she insisted. “How can I find her?”

Garreth will find her.

Nadira closed the book and put her hand on the cover. Garreth. Alisdair. Where are they? She closed her eyes. On a ship. Thedra bought passage for them with the carpets. She cannot be taking them home. Nadira sent tendrils out. They were no longer hiding; they felt safe enough this far from Istanbul to travel openly.

She touched Alisdair and felt his infatuation with his new lover. He was completely besotted. Thedra had turned him inside out, as she suspected. She could get no tendril into his thoughts, for his great emotion manifested as a shimmering cloud that had no room for any thought but that of his woman.

She saw her friend dance for him, her veils floated with her movements and then one by one she pulled them from her body and discarded them, draping them over his trembling thighs until he was covered with the flimsy fabric and she danced free from any covering. She saw him reach out and grab for her hips as she twirled past him. Nadira laughed to herself and closed the door on his thoughts.

But Garreth worried. He kept throwing his thoughts back to Istanbul. He thought she and Montrose and William were still there behind the thick walls.

She put a tendril into his heart and prodded him until he placed a heavy hand over his chest.
Yes. Here I am, Garreth.
His pale blue eyes widened.
We are in West Attica. It is a part of Greece.

The big blond man turned to Alisdair and she felt his helplessness. There was no way for him to communicate such a complex idea. He might pantomime, and she had often heard Alisdair ask him yes or no questions until they understood each other, but this would not work this time. Garreth did not know where West Attica was. Nadira was certain Thedra was taking them back to her country. She narrowed her eyes in concentration. Athens. Thedra was taking them to Athens.

Garreth moved closer to his friend and touched his arm. Alisdair turned from the rail. She watched as Garreth pointed to his chest, then back east to Istanbul, then forward to the west. Alisdair frowned. Garreth tried again, this time flattening his palm in front of him at about her height, then grasped his own long blond braid like he would cut it off. Alisdair's eyes widened in comprehension.

Tell him, now,
the
Grimoire
prompted.

She planted the suggestion in his head that they not stop at Athens, but round the peninsula and come to the port city of Eleusis. She tried to put this idea in Thedra's mind, but her mind was only on her tall spotted man. Thedra stood at his elbow and watched the waves, willing the sun to go down that she might entwine herself in his arms again.

Ah, love.
Nadira rolled her eyes.
Please. There is work to do.

“Nadira.”

She looked up. Montrose had entered the garden. His arms beckoned. She stood and put herself in them, feeling his warmth and strength. She sighed.
Very well. A time for work and a time for love.

She hugged him, remembering the long vigil on the ship. He seemed to have recovered without harm, but she could not be sure. She looked up and asked him, “You have tasted the
Hermetica
. I wonder what abilities will remain with you. Can you feel the thoughts of others? Can you hear mine?”

He shook his head, “No. But now I know some things without being told. But they seem minor. For example, I know what will be served for supper tonight.” He shrugged. “I suppose that can be useful.”

“It means you are hungry. The ability to know is linked to your thoughts. You will forever know where your next meal is coming from.” She thought for a moment. “You will probably be able to determine a horse's soundness by touching it, and you will always find the best campsites and know the next day's weather.”

He blinked, thinking about this. She lay her cheek against his chest. “You have earned these abilities through the endpapers.” She released him as William entered the garden.

Montrose seated himself on a wooden bench near the wall. William greeted him with a nod and handed Nadira a piece of flatbread. He gave one to Montrose and sat down to eat his own.

“Why has the priestess not stopped the necromancer herself?” Montrose leaned back against the wall and stretched his legs out in front of him. “Why must we do her work?” He took a bite from his bread.

“That I do not know, and won't until I meet with her.”

“Have you discovered where she lives?” William touched the book. “Why won't the
Grimoire
tell me?”

“She has to be ready for me as well,” Nadira explained. “I cannot march into her house.”

“But she called for you.”

“Much has happened since then.”

“Send a thread out for her.” Montrose finished his bread and wiped the crumbs from his beard.

“I have. It is there, waiting for her to touch it and lead me to her. She waits.”

“For what?”

“For Garreth.”

Montrose sat up, alert. “What?”

Nadira nodded absently. “She waits for him. When they arrive he will take me to her.”

Montrose and William stared at her. Montrose leaned back against the wall again and put his hands behind his head. He stared up at the blue sky. “I am through wondering about any of this.”

She agreed. “What seems strange now will make sense later.”

William mused, his fingers played upon the book in his shirt. “Garreth. It is because he does not speak.”

“Perhaps.”

“No. That is why. She…” he frowned as he cast for the priestess, “She does not like men. She understands that you cannot come to her alone, unescorted and unprotected. He smiled. “So…that was her…” his eyes had a dreamy look and he touched his heart with one finger. “She touched each of us and selected Garreth.” He blinked back into focus and looked at Nadira. “That is why.”

They stared at him in amazement. Montrose grunted. “I see you are not neglecting your studies, acolyte.”

“That is wonderful, Will,” Nadira breathed. “Wonderful. I feel so relieved you will be able to help me.” She did. Her relief was a surprise, and she realized she had been anxious. Very anxious. “Does she say when?”

He closed his eyes. “Soon.” He opened them with a laugh. “She warns about Thedra. What will we do?”

“Put them in the gardener's hut.” Nadira smiled back. “Leave them to tire themselves out. When their bodies are spent, their minds will return and they can contribute. Until then they will think of nothing else.”

“Jesus God.” Montrose snorted.

She said to William. “They come on the morrow then? Is that what you mean by ‘soon'”

He agreed. “Tomorrow they arrive. Garreth will be agitated and will not settle. He will feel the need to go for a walk. Accompany him. He will lead you to her and bring you back.” He glanced at Montrose. “But my lord, the baron, must stay far away from her. Far away.”

“I will. I have no desire to meet the witch.”

Nadira let her breath out slowly and stretched her arms and legs. “I am eager.”

The three of them stood on the rocky bluffs over the harbor and waited for the ship to empty its passengers. There was no mistaking the giant Scotsman and his flaming hair. Thedra was beside him and Garreth behind with their baggage over one shoulder. Their friends wasted no time on the pebbled shore, but marched past the cargo and busy longshoremen to the street. They would have entered one of the many inns near the harbor if not for a snaking silver tendril that entered the blond man's chest. Garreth looked up at the high bluffs and pointed.

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