The Necromancer Trilogy: Prophecy

Prologue

Prologue

“What are you doing? You said you would find the girl!”

The man cowered, eyes rolling frantically in his narrow face. “I…I…I…”

“You have done nothing for me!”

The man shuddered. “My lord, I have a lead. The final lead. I will find the girl for you.”

His gaze was on the shadows, where the voice was coming, but he could not see the one he spoke to.

“You have failed me, Phocas. I gave you a simple task.”

“No, please, master! My lord!” Phocas begged, on his knees and trembling with fear.

“The girl….you tell me you know where she is?”

“I shall by tomorrow, my lord!” Phocas insisted. “I shall! I have a lead! I have a place! I just have to find the girl.”

There was a long pause.

“My spies tell me the girl is already found.”

Phocas frowned. “But…but…”

“Found by our opponents, Phocas. By our enemies. Found by the cursed Society. Do you understand me? They have found her.”

“Yes, my lord! I understand, my lord! I have failed, my lord!”

“You have,” the hidden voice agreed. “However…the Society will not act until they are certain we mean the child harm. Do you follow me?”

“You mean…if I act quick, I can still bring you the girl?”

“Yes,” the hidden voice now had a smile in it. “Act quick, act quiet, and bring me the girl.”

Phocas nodded desperately. “Yes, my lord! I shall my lord!”

“And…Phocas?”

“Yes, my lord?”

“How is our little friend coming along?”

“You mean the…”

“The spy, yes. You can say the word.”

“Sorry, my lord,” Phocas mumbled. “They are managing well. Their connections keep them safe enough. For now.”

“Indeed. Do tell Blacktouch how well his little pet is getting on, won’t you? He will be so…relieved.”

“Yes, my lord,” Phocas managed a smile. “I’ll bring you the girl, my lord.”

“I want her by tomorrow evening.”

Phocas felt fear strike his heart again but he ignored it, managing to force out the words, “Yes, my lord.”

“Good. Now…as a little reminder that you must work quicker for me…”

“No, master!” Phocas begged. “No, please!”

A bolt of grey-toned light struck Phocas’s chest and he screamed and howled, arching his back, twisting to try and escape his own skin. From the shadows, the voice chuckled softly.