Page 2 of Bound By Blood and Bone

"Yes." Master DuCane stated, sharp and succinct, and then explained their situation, not wasting words or time. "What are we dealing with, Batiste? What is it that is draining my people, and how do we kill it?"

"You have a blight of shadows which would have started as a revenant." Batiste made the statement strong and clear with no hesitation. He then explained its origin. "Your town fell under an eclipse of death and dying these last few years that has apparently tarnished and weakened the light.

Your people have experienced much darkness. This darkness grew in the bone yards and fed on the oblivious, forming the revenant. There was no purification, no limits drawn, so its power swelled and intensified until it shattered and became a blight of shadows and is currently in the process of consuming the human inhabitants of your town." Batiste wasn't making judgments; he was just stating the facts, but everyone in the room seemed to take his words personally.

"Can we stop it?" Master DuCane asked, needing to focus on the practical and not what should have been done. There was no time to wallow in regret.

"It will require the work of a necromancer, an old practitioner from an ancient sect; unfortunately, that sect has nearly died out. I do believe that there is one remaining, although he may have already passed." Batiste sounded grave, and he rarely sounded anything but arrogant.

"How do I make contact with him?" Master DuCane kept to the point, as his only concern was a solution. The attacks must stop, and details would be attended to later.

"His name is Atticus Nasir, and if he is still alive, he is the last surviving member of the Cultus Mortis, the oldest order of necromancers. I will contact him, but there is no guarantee that he is alive or that he will agree to come." Batiste squared his shoulders and looked Louis in the eyes.

"He has lived in isolation for a long time, and the last time I spoke with him, he was not pleasant, but that could have had more to do with me than him." Batiste could not help his sarcastic nature, but he kept it to a minimum, having gone head-to-head with Louis before, and it was not a happy memory. "Let me just say that he is not easy to deal with and not a pleasant man to be around, but again, that might just be me."

"I care not about his moods; I care that he exists and that he can kill what afflicts my people." The Master demanded.

"He can. I'll speak to him, and I will return." With that, Batiste promptly disappeared.

“What plan do we follow if Batiste fails?” Silas asked.

"Nothing can kill the blight except a necromancer," Valarian spoke up. "The lesser orders would be able to slow it down, but it would still devour the town. Atticus Nasir is still alive; I would know if a sorcerer as powerful as a member of the Cultus Mortis died."

"If he fails, then I will find this Atticus Nasir, and I will drag him back here by the throat." Master Louis DuCane made it a solemn pledge.

CHAPTER TWO

Atticus felt the shift in the air and knew someone was coming. They had a request, a job, a need, and they required the ancient order, and only Atticus remained. The world had been quiet for many years, and his expertise had not been needed.

But as always, people become complacent and careless, and that is all it takes for the dire to rise and destruction to reign. He waited in the overlook, which gave a gorgeous view of the mountains and the lake. It was twilight, and the air was cool, and a slight breeze lifted his dark burgundy cape. His hood stayed in place, hiding his face and maintaining a sense of obscurity.

He'd been waiting for Jean Jacques Batiste for several weeks. The wind had spoken to him and alerted him to a menace that had risen in the west. He wished his brothers were with him, but the last, Alaric, had passed over a century ago. There had been eight in the beginning, and now there was one.

The lower orders would be pressed to expand and take up their duties once the Cultus Mortis was no more. Atticus had been on this earth and performing the rites of the Necromancer for over a thousand years, and in the time had taken very few lovers or confidants and even fewer friends.

He didn't look old; like the vampire, the Necromancer aged very slowly. He still had the goods and cleaned up quite nicely; perhaps it was time he struck out and tried to find a sympathetic soul, someone to hold dear, someone to hold close. He would give it serious thought once he finished with whatever it was that Jean Jacque was bringing.

It wasn't long before the light shifted and the air in the overlook accommodated a new form. "Hello, Jean Jacque, it has been a long time." He did not stand and did not look up. The sorcerer came to stand beside him, both looking out at the growing night.

"I would not bother you if it wasn't serious, but you are the only practitioner with the power to put down the blight of the shadows." Jean Jacque explained the situation occurring in the Midwestern town of Mt. Pleasant and waited for Atticus to respond.

The blight of shadows was a powerful evil, mindless and undirected, but with a hunger that sought out the human soul and feasted on their energies and their very lives. It was a sad affair, desperate and sad.

"Do they know that you are here and that I am coming?" Jean had, in the past, set up cleansings for people who had no clue that a necromancer was coming, and the reception he received was less than genial. "I will not come unless the request is from Coven DuCane."

"Yes, they are anxiously awaiting your arrival. Master Louis DuCane and his men are at your disposal, and a room in the watchtower has been prepared for your stay." Jean scrambled to assure him, but Atticus still held some hard feelings over the last favor he'd done for the sorcerer.

"I know I set you up the last time, but this is genuine and has nothing to do with me. This is for the people of Mt. Pleasant and for Coven DuCane." Atticus considered the request for a few minutes, casting a judgmental stare over Jean Jacques.

“I will arrive in the morning.”

"Thank you, Atticus." Atticus cast a suspicious glance over at him before nodding and turning away.

***

"He will be here in the morning." Batiste met with Louis in his quarters. It was late when he returned, and Louis had allowed him into his private quarters. Louis' beloved, Ezra, was asleep in their bedroom, and Batiste could hear his rhythmic breathing, sweet, calm, and relaxed.

Ezra had magical skills, but for all intents and purposes he was human, as were other beloveds at the Palace of DuCane. Their concern over the shadows was understandable. Hopefully life would return to normal before this ugliness touched them.