The Necromancer Thief (I, Mor-eldal Trilogy, Book 1)

By Marina Fernández de Retana

As a budding little necromancer, I soon discovered that the world of city people is complicated. When my master kicked me out of the cave, he warned me not to talk about my “dark” magic, because people here don’t like the undead. I am not really an undead, I just have a skeleton hand, but it is better to be careful. Anyway, that’s not my biggest worry.

In the Black Dagger brotherhood, I learn a lot of things, such as illusionist magic, which turns out to be quite handy to survive in this maze of streets: in the Cat Quarter, we have thugs of all kinds that are best avoided. But we also have good people, goodhearted “gwaks”, as we say around here.

Little did I know that I would soon be caught up in an infamous traffic that would entangle my life even more.

With a mix of lighthearted adventure and picaresque, this story narrates the hectic life of a good-spirited street child and his companions in a medieval urban fantasy setting with some nineteenth-century influences.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marina Fernández de Retana
• Release date: Dec 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005487027

Marina Fernández de Retana

I am Kaoseto, a Basque Franco-Spanish writer. I write fantasy series in Spanish, French, and English. Most of my stories take place in the same fantasy world, Hareka.Je suis Kaoseto, une écrivain basque franco-espagnole. J’écris des séries de fantasy en espagnol, français et anglais. La plupart de mes histoires se déroulent dans un même monde de fantasy, Haréka.Soy Kaoseto, una escritora vasca franco-española. Escribo series de fantasía en español, francés e inglés. La mayoría de mis historias se desarrollan en un mismo mundo de fantasía, Háreka.

Book preview

1 So long, my friends, so long

If only you’d think before you act, Mor-eldal.

I looked up in frustration. I had climbed a tree to get a closer look at a pretty, colorful bird and, thinking I was an expert climber, I had gone too fast, slipped, and fallen. And to my great disappointment, the big bird flew up just then, the branch shook, and a shower of snow landed on my head.

My master let out a dry laugh.

It’s amazing how stubborn you can be, boy. Birds are like squirrels: you can look at them, but from a distance. Come on, get up and go home. You’ll end up freezing in here.

Not him, though, I thought. My master was a nakrus, an undead wizard. He was never cold.

I stood up, and with his skeletal hand, he ruffled my snow-soaked hair. He said in a light tone:

You know, Mor-eldal? Sometimes I wonder what the hell you’re doing here, with this grumpy old skeleton, instead of going off to find your own. Did I ever tell you that?

I rolled my eyes.

"Well, I don’t know… around a thousand times, Elassar?"

Ah! That many times, eh? And what do you say?

That I don’t want to go, I replied like a refrain.

Yeah. What if I make you?

His magical green eyes were so intense that they were like stars. I tilted my head, confused. Usually, when he asked me that question, he never pressed the issue. But now he’d spent most of the winter talking about grumpy skeletons, and I was getting tired of this.

So I just looked at him, stubbornly, and we started up the snowy slope towards our cave.

Frankly, I wondered if my master would ever be able to say to me: go away, Mor-eldal. Inwardly, sometimes I hoped not, and other times I hoped he would, but I had to admit that I had no intention of leaving him. He was the one who had found me, lost in the mountains, when I was almost six years old, he was the one who had saved me from the cold and from certain death, and he was the one who had taught me everything I knew. I loved him like a father. So, logically, I wasn’t going to leave him any time soon. Maybe one day, I thought, maybe when I grew up, to see a bit of the world. But to tell the truth, I was quite satisfied with my master. What the hell, I was happy.

Ah, darn it, I said, breaking the silence. I forgot to take the rabbit. One fell into the trap. I saw it, and then I saw the squirrels and went to greet them, and then the bird came, and… Well, I forgot. Should I go get it?

Go, my master sighed.

I ran my way down the hill. We were high up in the mountains, and though it was already spring down in the valley, there was still snow where we lived, and the trees had not yet awakened. I reached the trap, picked up the rabbit, and heard a bird sing.

Ah, no, I muttered. You again?

It was perched on a lower branch, on the same tree as before. I approached and watched him, fascinated. How beautiful it was! It had yellow, blue, green, and red feathers. It was a yarack.

I whistled, imitating its song, and I thought I saw it look down at me in surprise. I laughed and pointed at the bird.

You thought you could sing better than me, yarack? You big conceited bird!

It let out a shrill cry, and I sighed.

And a touchy one at that! Eh, no need to get angry, friend. Here, if you give me a feather, I forgive you. Do we have a deal?

It flew away, and I growled.

And it’s a coward, at that!

Then I saw a yellow feather fall, and my eyes widened.

I can’t believe it! I exclaimed.

I picked up the feather, twisted it between my fingers, and suddenly I took my legs, climbed the hill, and stormed into the cave, shouting:

It left me a feather! Look, master! I asked it for a feather, and the yarack left me one! Do you believe me?

I believe what my eyes see, my master replied, amused. He was sitting on his big trunk with a big book in his hand. We had three books in all. A small book of stories with pictures, a dictionary, and a big, fat old volume that talked about necromancy. Yes, we were necromancers. Well, especially my master.

I left the rabbit on the floor, removed my wet clothes and, once wrapped in my blanket, picked up my yellow feather with a smile.

It was generous, after all. To think I called it conceited, touchy, and a coward!

All that, huh? Well, you’ve told it a lot in a short time, my master snorted without even looking up.

Hey, I know, I spoke too soon.

What did I tell you before? You have to think before you act. If you don’t think, you do something stupid.

Yes… Well. I left my new feather in my bundle with my things. I’m going to prepare the rabbit. Do you want the bones now or shall I save them for you?

My master needed it to regenerate the morjas in his bones and keep himself alive. Just as I needed to eat the flesh.

Save them for later, my master replied, distracted. And don’t sing, please. I am reading.

I huffed.

Yeah, right, you’re reading. You know your book by heart, though!

And I began to sing: Larilan, larilon, hey, Spring, come out now, bombumbim, how nice, it is spring… Then I saw my master’s eyes widen. And I sighed.

Okay, okay. I’ll shut up.

So I worked, and in the evening, I had already filled my stomach, I had cleaned the bones, and I lay on my pallet and contemplated my feather pensively. The light of the lantern shone in the cave. It was my master who fixed it whenever it broke. To my left was a mirror. It was centuries old, millennia old, who knows. But it worked, and I looked at myself for a moment, holding the feather in my right hand, the only thing in me that resembled my Master: it was made of bone. My Master had saved me when I had been on the verge of freezing to death, that famous winter’s night… how many years now? Five winters ago. He had taught me to activate my hand with mortic energy and to feel with it. I waved the yellow feather, and… my jaw dropped.

Master!

Mm?

I looked up at him. He hadn’t changed his position in hours. He had no problem with pins and needles or sore muscles. He was never in pain anywhere, and yet I knew he was feeling things, just as I was with my right hand.

The mirror! I exclaimed. I stood up. I waved my feather. And I said, You never told me the mirror was lying!

You say?

The mirror lies! I’m sure of it. Look at it. I’ve got the feather here, in my right hand. And when it passes in the mirror, hop, it’s in the other hand. And, hop, it’s in the other hand, I said, changing the feather several times. Then I stammered: But this is not my right hand!

Mor-eldal’s skeletal hand in the mirror was his left.

My master burst out laughing. In the mirror, I saw his mandible come off in a clattering back and forth.

I said something stupid, I concluded, questioningly.

No, no, son, you are quite right! my master assured me. What makes me laugh is that you are only finding out now. Mirrors don’t reflect reality. They’re too rigid for that.

Too rigid? I repeated as I settled myself at the foot of the trunk. What do you mean?

I mean they’re lazy: they take the color they have right in front of them and they bring it back in a straight line.

I pondered about what he said. Well, okay. If you put it that way, it sounded logical.

And you knew about it and never told me?

You still have so much to learn, my boy! He turned his head towards me. If you were a little more curious and let go of me a little, you’d go out and see the world of your own kind and you’d learn a lot faster, a lot quicker than staying here on this mountain, playing with squirrels and listening to an old fool like me talk about dead ages. You would learn and, above all, you would live, son, you would meet real friends, friends like you, with two legs and two hands. But that doesn’t interest you, does it? You’re as stubborn as a mule, and that’s why you’ll never see a mule and you’ll stay here counting stars and lazing around, and you’ll end up like me!

And what’s wrong with that? I wanted to reply. But his words left me speechless. It was not the first time he had given me speeches like that. However, hearing it so often was getting on my nerves and making me worry.

I bit my lip.

But, Elassar, I asked, you don’t mean it, do you?

Yes, my boy, I mean it, my master assured as he turned a page of the book with his skeletal finger.

I looked at him, I looked at us in the mirror, and I said:

Well, you know, if you ask me, I wouldn’t mind being like you. Okay, you’re less agile, but you’re not cold. And this winter, I’ve been damn cold, I’m telling you!

Don’t get on my bones, my master growled.

I sighed and went to lie down again on my pallet with my feather. After a moment, I chewed:

Good night, Elassar.

Good night, Mor-eldal.

I put down the feather, closed my eyes, and shook my head when I opened them again, suddenly very serious.

Look, Elassar. I don’t want to leave. So, if you tell me once again to leave, make it clear, and I’ll leave for good, even if I don’t want to, but otherwise, don’t get on my bones, either. There, I’ve said it. I love you, master.

He did not answer me. And I was almost asleep when I heard him whisper:

I love you too, little one. I love you too.

The next day when I awoke, I found him sitting as usual at the entrance of the cave. I stretched, dressed, and said with a yawn:

Good morning, Elassar!

He answered me cheerfully:

A great morning indeed! Today is the best day ever!

I scratched my head, curious.

Oh, yeah?

Yeah. You’re going to leave and go see the world! Ha! Isn’t that wonderful?

I turned deathly pale and realized that I had said too much the day before.

I… don’t understand, I said.

Yes, you do! You understand perfectly! You promised me that you would go away if I asked you to leave. And now the big day has arrived! You’re leaving!

He said it in such a cheerful tone!

But, yesterday, you said you loved me! I protested.

What’s that got to do with it? His eyes smiled with joy. You’re going to make acquaintances, you’re going to learn amazing things, you’re going to see the pictures in the storybook but in real life! Don’t tell me you don’t want to go?

But to go where? I exclaimed, agitated.

What do I know! There, towards the sunrise, where the sun is born everyday. You’ll find a sajit on the way. Walk and you will see. Look, I’ve packed the bag for you, with the provisions we had left. And this, son, is your new hand. I’ve been preparing it all winter. It’s a surprise. You like it? Put it on. Then I’ll fix it. And the blanket, give it to me, I’ll improve the spell, so you won’t be cold. Come on, move it, lazybones!

I moved. Only a few inches. My gaze fell, bewildered, on an object which, in fact, looked exactly like my left hand, except that this new hand was not real, it was a magara. Understanding more clearly that this was serious, my confusion gradually gave way to horror, then to a feeling of abandonment, and finally, I burst into tears.

Elassaaaaar! This is too cruel!

My boy! What’s all this crying? You are grown up now, you are past the age of crying. Quiet.

I looked at him in dismay as he took my blanket and concentrated. My tears flowed freely. I waited for him to finish his spell almost without making a sound, but when he did, I sobbed:

Please, master. Throw me out if you want, but come with me, then.

Yeah, right, so they can burn me at the stake? No, my boy, I’m past the age of going on adventures. My bones are old, I’m a thousand years old, and I can’t run up hill and dale anymore…

That’s not true, that’s too cruel, I repeated.

Tell me, Mor-eldal. Will you stop talking nonsense and think for a moment? Take your blanket. And your hand. Put it on. Come on, come on. Let’s see how it fits.

He put it on me, and I didn’t resist. I was too sad. He proceeded to attach my hand to the bones and my wrist while saying:

I taught you to look after yourself and see the reality as it is. So face it, swallow your tears, and listen to me. Wherever you go, never mention necromancy or your hand. Never, do you hear me? You know it’s not right. Avoid talking about me to anyone, but if it slips out, say I’m dead, I’m not kidding, and never say I’m a nakrus. I don’t want to end up with curious adventurers looking for a wizard hermit: I hate visitors. And one more thing, he added. Don’t forget everything I’ve taught you and, above all, Mor-eldal, above all, never stop being yourself.

I looked at him, my mouth agape, the blanket under my arm, and with my hand now almost completely fixed.

So… this is serious, I muttered.

My master huffed.

Of course it’s serious! You doubt it? Now hold still, don’t move.

I did not move, but my tears were still flowing, unstoppable. When he finished his work, my master hummed happily.

Shake it, see if it works.

I stirred it, and for a moment, I almost forgot my sadness and smiled, impressed.

It’s almost like the other one!

And that’s the goal. But, look closely, the thumb is on the other side.

Of course, I thought. Of course it was. It was like the mirror.

Take care of it, huh? It’s tough, but don’t put it in an oven. I don’t think it would burn; as I say, it’s tough, but that’s precisely what might attract attention. Be careful not to pierce it. The sajits would expect to see it bleed. And… remember, if it does get damaged, you can regenerate it, and you can also make it grow to be the same size as the other one. It’s almost like waking up the morjas of the bones, except that you have to wake up the morjas of the skin. I taught you how to do it, remember? Well, I’ll show you again, in case you forgot.

He showed me, and folding and unfolding my hand, I asked, curious:

How did you make it?

With patience, art, and a beaver skin, my master said, smiling. And now, boy, get up and go. Say, don’t you want to take the Drionsan dictionary with you? But I am talking nonsense, what would you want it for? Modern-day words have surely changed. You’d only get into trouble if you were caught with such an old dictionary. Be clever, kid, speak in Drionsan and not in Caeldric, or Morelic, as they call it… Be friendly, and try not to open your mouth too much at first, eh? That way you’ll avoid trouble.

At the entrance, he handed me the bag. The day was bright, though a little cool, and the cold wind hurt my eyes. My master patted me on the shoulder, obviously moved.

Ah, boy. You don’t know how much I’ve dreamed of this day. Not that I want to see you go, but I want to see you discover new things. And you will! Woe betide you if you die on the way before you find a sajit, eh? Or I’ll pull your ears off. Come on, don’t cry. Give me a hug. That’s it.

I hugged him gently, my cheeks moist.

Do you really want me to go?

Yes.

But I can come back, right?

Don’t even think about it. Not until you find a ferilompard bone. These are the best. When you get it, you can come back. Not until then. Come on, go, follow the dawn sun.

I turned to the east and saw only mountains and forests. Then I stepped out of the cave… and turned around.

Wait, I forgot my yellow feather.

I went to get it, put it in my bag, and when I got back outside, I stopped and said:

Damn. My staff.

My Master gave a patient grunt. I went to fetch my staff and, once again outside, breathed in, remembered the lesson my master had once given me about courage, and sighed.

Well, I’m going. But only because you’re throwing me out. You know what? There’s something I never told you. The most stubborn one here is you, not me.

Ha! Like father, like son, as they say! my master laughed, and he made a gesture to encourage me. Now go!

I walked away, turning almost at every step, then every fifth step, then every twentieth step, and then I lost sight of the only person I could remember knowing. There, I was gone. And I was just beginning to realize what that meant. I was all alone, I didn’t know where I was going, I had no one to talk to… It was scary. I only hoped that my master was right and that there were indeed humans, and elves, and caitians out there, beyond the forests. And I also hoped that the ferilompard wouldn’t be too hard to find.

I saw a black squirrel on a branch and raised my new hand to say goodbye.

Good luck, my friend! Elassar wants me to leave, and I’m leaving. But when I get the ferilompard bone I’ll be back, I promise you!

Another squirrel appeared on the same trunk, and my heart sank again. Squirrels had been my friends for so long! I would never forget them, their games, and all they had taught me about acorns and trees and so much more! I took a deep breath and sang:

Squirrels, squirrels,

mountains, sunshine, and myrtles!

Flowers blossom, jonquils grow,

and love rises from snow!

Squirrels, squirrels,

oh how I love you all!

So long, my friends, so long.

Don’t forget me, please, nor my song.

Long after I had lost sight of my squirrels, I heard a shriek in the sky, stuck my staff in the snow, and looked up. It was the yarack! It was going much faster than I was.

If only I could fly like you, bird! I exclaimed.

I saw it disappear behind the trees and growled:

Mm, yeah. Cowardly maybe not, but you can’t say you’re not conceited.

2 Humans are nicer than I thought

I traveled for days before I left the mountains behind. Once, I met a bear, and if I hadn’t been able to climb trees as fast as the squirrels, who knows how I might have ended up.

I did not have many provisions left in my pack when, one day, I came to some treeless land, relatively flat and dotted with flowers. I wandered through it with curiosity and saw a large herd of deer in the distance. I continued to move forward when I came upon a huge white snake. Well, it wasn’t a snake, it was a trail.

A path, I said aloud.

I was pretty sure that this was what was called a path. And as my master had told me that paths were made for walking, so I did.

Where will you take me? I asked.

To the east, to your own kind! I exclaimed.

Well, since my master wasn’t by my side for real, I pretended he was. It was always comforting to hear him speak, even if it was through my own voice.

When the sky began to darken, I strayed from the path and went back into the woods, only to realize that the white snake had slightly led me away from the mountains. I didn’t quite like that. I walked between the trunks, patting them and watching them, and then stopped in front of one and smiled.

Tonight I sleep with you, big tree. You don’t mind? I swear I don’t snore anymore. My master told me so.

I climbed the branches and settled down in the heart of the tree. The sounds of the night were similar to those back in the cave. Which is why, tired and serene, I fell asleep right away. I dreamed that I was sitting on a huge branch, surrounded by several squirrels, and one of them, with a serious expression, was taking an acorn and throwing it far, far away, to a field of flowers that lit up like lanterns in the middle of the night.

When I awoke, I yawned, ate some of the roots from my supplies, and went on my way, but this time, I did not go back to the white snake: I went along the mountains, through a land covered with tall grass. I was whistling when I came to the top of one of those small mountains that must have been called hills and saw the forest. It was very large, but it was not in the mountains.

It was frightening to be so alone, I must admit, because sometimes, I imagined that a lynx or one of those monsters my master had told me about would appear and attack me. And walking through a treeless meadow worried me. How could I escape a wolf if it ran faster than me?

With relief, I entered the forest and felt almost at home again. Not completely, because my master was not there, nor the slopes, nor the squirrels, and the trees were different. The forest was very dense and I lost the sunrise. I found some berries, but my master had told me that I should not eat what I did not know, so I did not touch them. Instead, I ate the eggs from a bird’s nest. I found them delicious.

I like you very much, trees, I said one day, a little irritated. But I did not leave my master to come and see you. I came to see my own kind, my people. And I have been looking for them for days. And nothing, I can’t find them. I should have followed the white snake, I muttered. Shouldn’t I?

But it was too late to turn back: I didn’t know where I had come from. So I kept going. And luck smiled on me when, on the evening of that same day, I saw that the forest was disappearing and giving way to hills of grass. I did not dare to go far from the edge when, suddenly, I saw the white snake, and I laughed.

Ah, there you are!

Despite the rain, I ran out of the forest and went to check that it was a path. I followed it in the rain, and then, freezing, I took refuge in a large, lonely tree near the snake, climbed up, and wrapped myself in my blanket. The spell on the blanket was not working as well as before, and it was not as warm either. How many days had it been since I had left my master? I didn’t know, but quite a few days already.

The next morning, I awoke with a start when I heard a noise. I opened my eyes and clung to the largest branch in wonder. On the white snake, a hornless deer was passing by with a person on it.

My own kind, I murmured.

A wave of memories came over me, from when I was a little boy playing in front of a house. The deer was trotting along and soon disappeared behind a hill.

It can’t be a deer, I muttered, remembering a story my master had told me. What then? A mule?

The best thing to do was to ask my own kind. I looked up and was suddenly left speechless. There, in the distance, I saw a city. There were houses. And people.

When I got there, I first looked around at least twenty times. I took a few more steps and entered the city. Curiosity and wonder made me turn my head like a restless squirrel. I found a larger place where I saw people behind tables with containers full of food. In one of them, there were strawberries, and my mouth watered.

It was only after a long time that I gathered my courage to speak with a person a little taller than me, who was eating something with a good appetite.

Do you speak my language? I asked.

He looked me up and down, eyes wide, and swallowed what was in his mouth.

By all the Spirits, what’s that? he let out.

I smiled, relieved to understand him, then thought about the meaning of his question and returned a puzzled look.

Excuse me?

Excuse me, the boy repeated, he looked at me again from head to foot, then laughed. I can’t believe it! Are you human?

I shrugged.

That’s what I’ve heard. What about you?

The boy was laughing. At least he was cheerful.

Human to the core, he replied. You, on the other hand, look like an out-and-out savage.

Never heard of Atenout, I confessed. Is it a new place?

That one’s crazy, the boy commented. And he turned to another person who was busy at a table loaded with food. He shouted, Hey, Mama! Did you see him?

Mama looked at me, and her expression changed.

Oh, you poor little thing! she exclaimed. You are so skinny!

I smiled at her.

Hello, I said. I had not finished the word when Mama handed me something that looked like a fruit. I took it with an exclamation of surprise. How kind!

I was hungry, so I took a bite. It burned my tongue a little. I asked:

This city, what’s it called?

A city? Mama repeated as the boy burst out laughing. It’s a village, kid. If you’re looking for a city, you’ll have to go on this way. Where are you from?

I made a vague gesture with my hand.

From over there.

From the forest?

From further away.

From the Evon-Sil Valley?

That’s it! I nodded, relieved. At least that name hadn’t changed.

And you came all this way alone? Why?

I shrugged.

To go see my people.

Your people! And where do they live? As I cast a puzzled glance at her, she suggested, At Estergat?

I nodded slowly and asked:

Is Estergat a city?

Hahaha…! the boy laughed.

Hishiwa! Mama scolded. Yes, kid, it’s a city. It’s the capital of the Republic of Arkolda.

Estergat, then, I said, smiling. By the way, thanks for the fruit. It’s really good.

The boy collapsed with laughter.

The fruit, he says!

Quiet, Hishiwa! Mama demanded, her eyebrows furrowed. Tell me, little one. What’s your name?

Mor-eldal, I replied.

Well, Mor-eldal, you are in luck. My son will travel to Estergat to work for his uncle the glassmaker. He will leave in an hour with old Dirasho, on his cart. If you like, you can wait and he will take you too, what do you think?

Ah, thank you, Mama! I said, not knowing how to thank her better.

Mama smiled at me, and I smiled back. Her smile widened and then faded as Hishiwa laughed harder.

Ah, Mama, I’m going to travel with him? And there I thought I was going to be bored to death with old Dirasho!

Calm down, Hishiwa! Mama growled. Can’t you see he’s from somewhere else? And a little respect for old Dirasho. He may not be much of a talker, but he’s a straight man with a good heart. Anyway… Be kind to your new companion. Mor-eldal, she added in an affable tone. Will you wait here for a bit? I’ll go and talk to Dirasho. Sit down there on the stool, there, good. I’ll be right back.

Mama made sure to leave me sitting on the stool and walked away. More serious now, Hishiwa sat down on the stool next to mine. He had a small nose, blue eyes, pale skin, and brown hair. Exactly like me, except my nose was medium-sized, my eyes were dark gray, my skin was tan, and my hair was black.

Here, he said. He handed me something. I took it, and he explained, There’s nothing like a piece of bread to get the onion through. So, you’re from the mountains?

Yeah, I said, as I ate. A few days ago, I was surrounded by trees, and suddenly, everything changed. I came all the way down and followed the rivers and paths. It’s amazing how everything changes.

Hishiwa looked at me with a smile, but he didn’t laugh anymore.

It sure must impress, he said. You’ve never been to Estergat, have you?

The city? No, never, I confessed.

Hishiwa shook his head.

Are your people really there?

I think sho, I replied. I swallowed my mouthful. Actually, I’m going there mostly to see. And to look for a ferilompard.

Hishiwa opened his eyes wide.

A ferilompard?

Yes.

And what’s a ferilompard?

I pouted.

Well… It’s a creature. But I don’t know which one, yet. I’ll find out, I assured him. And I smiled at him. "And, believe me, when I want to find out a thing, I