The Necromancer by Michael Scott Page B

leaned forward, her forehead creasing in a frown. “So that means the Elders, the ones whose side you’re on, could also do the same thing?”
    This time there was a longer pause, and when Nicholas finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m sure they could.”
    “So why don’t they?” Sophie demanded.
    Nicholas looked at Perenelle, and it was the Sorceress who finally answered. “Because sooner or later every parent must let their children go to live their lives and make their mistakes. That is the only way they can grow. In generations past, the Elders moved among the humani, living with them, working side by side—all those legends about the ancient gods interacting with humans have some truth in them. There really were gods on the earth in those days. But humankind did not progress. It was only when most of the Elders retreated to the Shadowrealms and left the humani to their own devices that the race started to grow.”
    “Think of all that mankind has achieved in the last two thousand years,” Nicholas continued. “Think of the inventions, the accomplishments, the discoveries—atomic power, flight, instant worldwide communications, even space travel—and then remember that the civilization of Egypt lasted more than three thousand years. Babylon was established over four thousand years ago, the first cities in the Indus appeared over five thousand years ago and Sumer is six thousand years old. Why did those great civilizations not achieve what this civilization has accomplished in a much shorter time?”
    Josh shook his head, but Sophie was nodding. She knew the answer.
    “Because the Elders—what the humani called the gods—lived with them,” Perenelle said. “They provided everything. The Elders needed to retreat so that mankind could grow.”
    “But some stayed,” Sophie protested. “The Witch, Prometheus …”
    “Mars …,” Josh added.
    “Gilgamesh,” Sophie said. “And Scathach. She stayed.”
    “Yes, a few remained to guide and teach the new race, to nudge them along the road to greatness. But not to interfere, not to influence and definitely not to rule,” Perenelle clarified.
    Aoife grunted a bitter laugh.
    “It is true that some Dark Elders tried to rule the humani, and the Elders fought with them, blocking their efforts. But everyone who remained had a reason to stay … except you,” Perenelle said suddenly, looking at Aoife. “Why did you choose to remain in this humani Shadowrealm?”
    There was a long pause while Aoife’s eyes grew lost and distant. “Because Scathach stayed,” she said eventually.
    A series of terrible images swirled through Sophie’s mind and a name popped into her head. “Because of Cuchulain,” she said aloud.
    “Cuchulain,” Aoife agreed. “The boy who came between us. The boy we fought over.”
    A young man, mortally wounded, tying himself to a pillar so that his very presence could hold a terrifying army at bay …
    Scathach and Aoife together, racing across a battlefield, trying to reach him before three enormous crowlike figures swooped down on his body …
    The crows carrying the young man’s limp body high into the air …
    And then Scathach and Aoife fighting one another with swords and spears, their almost identical gray auras coiling around them, twisting and shifting into a score of beastlike shapes.
    “We should never have fought,” Aoife said. “We parted with angry bitter words. We said things that should have been left unsaid.”
    “You could have left for a Shadowrealm of your own creation,” Perenelle said.
    Aoife shook her head. “I stayed because I had been told that one day I would get a chance to redeem myself with my sister.”
    Even as Aoife was speaking, Sophie caught a flickering image: Scathach—or was it Aoife?—clinging to the back of a monster that stood on human legs but had two coiling snakes’ heads. It wore a robe of living serpents, and these struck out, again and again, at the