“Your Majesty,” Maseo said, bowing to Kitsuki before saluting Jaega. “You requested my presence.”
“Thank you for coming,” Kitsuki replied. “Lieutenant Norkon has returned from his reconnaissance mission with troubling information about Norello that we believe you might help us interpret.”
Maseo glanced at Rylan standing beside him. The raven shifter looked exhausted, with dirt streaking his face and tears in his uniform. Whatever he had witnessed in Norello had taken its toll.
“I will help however I can,” Maseo said, moving toward the table at Kitsuki’s gesture. As he approached, he noticed Jaega give Kitsuki a sidelong glance. The king responded with an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
The map spread before them depicted the capital city of Norello but was marked with strange circular symbols that Maseo didn’t recognize.
“Norello has conscripted citizens into labor forces to construct ritual sites throughout the city, which are marked,” Jaega explained.
Since Maseo was there in an official context, he reverted to the formal speech he had learned in his father’s court. “I do not understand what you mean.”
“Black stone platforms inscribed with runes that pulse with green light,” Rylan explained, moving closer to Maseo than necessary. The raven shifter’s proximity seemed to trigger another strange reaction from Kitsuki. There was a flash of something dark in his gaze before he suppressed it. Could Maseo’s heat be affecting the king? Surely not. The only effect it ever seemed to have on Kio and Phaedra was making them more violent toward Maseo, but Maseo couldn’t imagine a man as honorable as Kitsuki treating him so horribly.
“The workers who constructed them transformed,” Rylan continued.
A chill ran through Maseo at the description. “Into what?”
“We call them the Hollowed,” Kitsuki confirmed, his expression darkening as he focused on the map instead of meeting Maseo’s gaze. “Soulless vessels controlled by necromantic energy.”
Maseo had experienced his father’s cruelty firsthand, but that was beyond anything he had imagined. “My father is practicing necromancy?”
“It appears so,” Jaega replied, his calm voice a stark contrast to the tension radiating from Kitsuki. “Lieutenant Norkon observed the construction of what we recognize as a Deathward Constellation, a powerful necromantic barrier.”
Maseo shook his head, struggling to reconcile the new information with what he knew of his father. “I know my father is a skilled shadowmancer, but he has never dabbled in forbidden death magic to my knowledge. If he had, I never would have survived childhood.”
“There is more,” Kitsuki said. “Lieutenant Norkon observed a shadowy figure in black robes marked with green runes, moving between the ritual sites.”
Rylan nodded, moving closer to Maseo. “It directed the Hollowed workers and adjusted the rune patterns. Plants withered in its presence.”
Kitsuki’s fingers flexed against the table edge. The reaction was so subtle that Maseo might have missed it had he not been watching the king for clues to his unusual behavior.
“I have never seen such a being,” Maseo admitted.
Jaega’s expression grew troubled. “Using the Deathward Constellation was Ishibiya’s signature, but that cannot be. I was there when Ishibiya was killed.”
“Could my father have somehow revived him?” Maseo asked, the thought sending another wave of dread through him. “His shadowmancy is powerful.”
“It is indeed the closest magic to necromancy that is still allowed,” Jaega conceded. “Perhaps if Nasume found a book that survived the purge after the Necromancer War, it might contain the knowledge needed for a shadowmancer to accomplish such an impossible feat.”
Maseo hesitated. “We have an incredible library, though it served as a sanctuary away from my father when I wasgrowing up.” He swallowed hard before continuing. “The head librarian is a wolf shifter named Iston, who lived through the Necromancer War.”
Kitsuki’s eyes narrowed. “Are you suggesting Iston might have provided Nasume with forbidden texts?”
“No.” The word came out sharper than Maseo intended. “Iston is nothing like my father. He is a kind soul and was the only person in that castle who ever showed me any compassion after my mother died. But he loves books as if they were his children. It would pain him too much to destroy one, even if it contained dangerous knowledge.”
When nobody responded, dread coiled in Maseo’s stomach. “Iston would never willingly hand something so dangerous to my father. When my father would beat me unconscious, Iston carried me to his quarters and tended my wounds. He would read to me, giving me refuge in stories when the world became unbearable.”
Maseo’s hands clenched into fists on the table. “He was the only light in that darkness after my mother’s death. The only person who told me I had worth, who helped me remember what kindness was. My father would have forced Iston to reveal those texts. If he’s alive when you take the castle…” Maseo trailed off before he continued. “I’m asking you, please. Don’t let him pay for what my father forced him to do.”
“No harm will come to Iston,” Kitsuki said, his tone holding the weight of a sacred vow. “You have my word, not only as a king, but as someone who values what he gave you. We will protect anyone who showed you kindness in that horrid place.”
The fierceness in Kitsuki’s voice touched Maseo’s heart. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Jaega cleared his throat, redirecting their attention to the map. “We need to focus on the immediate threat. The Deathward Constellation is almost complete. When activated, it will create an impenetrable barrier around Norello. Any living being that attempts to cross it will die and become enslaved to the necromancer’s power.”
“The cemetery has also been desecrated,” Rylan added, his tone growing serious. “The bones are arranged in patterns that mirror the runes on the platforms, including what appear to be ancient dragon bones.”