After days of exploring every inch of the pyramid, the black stone walls all began to look the same to Connor. Though he hated to admit it, doubt had begun to seep into his mind. The artifact he sought might not be hidden in this particular pyramid after all. Maybe he’d gotten his hopes too high. According to his research ten pyramids circled the haunted lands. That made the odds of any given pyramid being the one he sought quite long.

Connor left the hall he’d just searched for the fifth time and returned to the central chamber. A red-stained iron cauldron sat in the center of the room, directly beneath a hole in the ceiling. All the blood channels in the roof’s altar drained through that hole and the blood and life force of the sacrifices gathered in the cauldron.

He ran a finger around the rim of the iron vessel. Dried blood flaked up like rust. How many lives had drained into it over the years, the decades? People called the former ruler of the haunted lands the Mad King, but Xanatos Alexious VI wasn’t mad; he was a genius. A genius determined to live forever and with the will to make it happen. Connor admired that determination, admired everything about the great king.

Many people wanted things that were hard to accomplish and they gave up, believing them impossible. King Alexious found a way. Granted, a case could be made that murdering the population of half the continent wasn’t an acceptable method to gain what he wanted. If the scattered records Connor had read were accurate, many of his people objected, violently, to being used as fuel for the single largest feat of sorcery in history.

Those people served as the first sacrifices.

Connor sighed. Another fact his research had turned up: King Alexious hadn’t intended to stop with just half the continent. He’d intended to sacrifice all life in the wild lands beyond the mountains, in what was now the kingdom, along with his lands to the east.

The savage tribes of goblins and ogres that infested the kingdom before the colonists’ arrival held the pass while the Ice Queen sent her armies south. King Alexious had been forced to activate the ritual before he’d completed his preparations and only managed to do the job half way. Connor intended to finish the task and take his place beside King Alexious at the Horned One’s side.

Connor hissed when an iron spur sliced his finger. His fresh blood glistened on the rim of the cauldron. A flicker of power awakened and a ruddy glow filled the chamber. Connor backed away from the cauldron and gathered his power. He had no idea what might happen next and didn’t intend to be taken by surprise.

The room shook and a beam of corrupt black energy shot up from the empty cauldron. When the anti-light vanished the cauldron slid back, revealing a set of stairs leading down into hidden chambers below the pyramid. The meager light from the entrance didn’t reach into those stygian depths. His enhanced sight allowed him to see in near darkness, but in the absolute absence of light below the pyramid even Connor needed light.

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Though it seemed a sacrilege, Connor conjured a glowing globe and sent it down ahead of him. He paused a moment to make certain his binding on the demon guardian still held firm and it did. Connor didn’t need the creature breaking free and attacking him in the catacombs where he had no hope of escaping.

Connor’s heart raced and sweat beaded on his neck as he descended into catacombs that hadn’t seen the passage of a human being in over a thousand years. What wonders or horrors or both lurked below? Like a child on solstice morning he hurried down, eager to discover what gifts awaited.

At the bottom of the steps a single vast room spread out in all directions. Shelves filled with books and artifacts lined three walls. Two large stone tables tried and failed to fill the otherwise empty space. It resembled his library writ large. Connor ran to the closest shelf and reached for a tome bound in black leather. His eager fingers stopped inches from the thick volume. Keen though he was, Connor wasn’t stupid enough to touch anything in this place without first checking for traps.

Streamers of black soul force shot out in all directions, brushing over everything in the room. The books all had a thin coating of some poison Connor didn’t recognize. The artifacts were charged with demonic energy that would kill any normal human that touched them. Lucky for Connor he wasn’t a normal human. His seeking tendrils found a small oval depression in the blank wall.

He rushed over to the little divot. No poison or lethal energy protected the oblong depression. He ran loving fingers over the smooth stone. This had to be what he sought.

Connor slipped the amulet from around his neck and pressed it into the oval. It fit perfectly. Another rumble shook the pyramid as a portion of the wall slid aside revealing a two-foot-square mirror of black glass. Clouds swirled in the depths of the mirror and slowly a face resolved. Cold and arrogant, with a hooked nose and eyes as crimson as Connor’s own, the face offered a disdainful sniff.

“Name yourself, boy.”

Connor stiffened at the insult. “I am no boy and I don’t take orders from spirits. If you want my name, share yours first.”

A faint smile curled the spirit’s thin lips. “You’ve got a spine at least. I am Dominicus Lucious, governor of the western provinces. I dared speak against our king and his plans. This is my reward.”

“My name is Connor Blackman. Tell me of King Alexious’s backup plan in the event the ritual failed.”

“Backup plan? Our lunatic ruler had so many plans you can’t even begin to imagine. If you wish to know about one in particular you’ll need to offer more than that.”

Connor ground his teeth. If he had more to offer he wouldn’t need the spirit’s help. “I don’t know anything else. It took me years to piece together what little I do know. The journals and histories mention a backup plan in case the grand conjuring failed. No specifics or other useful information.”

Dominicus nodded. “I heard of a plan, perhaps the one you speak of, but as I was not one of the king’s favorites I know little more than you. My spies in the palace spoke of a demon army marching to war and consuming everything in their path. How he planned to accomplish the summoning I don’t know.”

It took all Connor’s self-control not to smash the mirror to shards. What had he expected? That a regional governor, a man obviously an enemy of the king, would be privy to any of his deep secrets? The information he needed lay elsewhere, perhaps in the pages of the many books lining the wall.

It would take time, a great deal of time, but Connor had no other choice. He covered his hands with a thin soul force barrier, grabbed a book, and settled in to read.