Thora stared intensely down at them. “They will save us.”
Some glared at her in defiance; others turned away, quivering.
At the base of the pyramid, Nicci stepped away from Nathan and used a nudge of her gift to push the crowds aside as she reached the steps. She was going to stop this. “No, Thora.” She could summon a storm of lightning from above, using both Additive and Subtractive Magic. Had the wizards of Ildakar ever seen Subtractive Magic? Nicci doubted it. “If you don’t stop this madness, I will make you sorry.”
Nicci could take them by surprise, incinerate the top of the pyramid and disrupt this ceremony. She also knew that Mirrormask and his rebels were a tinderbox just waiting for a spark to ignite them. Would they rise up and assist her if she provided that spark? Maybe this was the time.
A hush fell over the crowd, as moans rippled through the twelve slaves. They struggled but could not move, locked in place by Thora’s magic. They all faced the reflective trough in front of them, and Nicci knew exactly what it was for. “Sovrena, let me speak on their behalf!”
In unison, as if they had rehearsed this many times before, all five members of the wizards’ duma reached into their robes and pulled out long, ceremonial knives with jeweled hilts and curved blades.
Thora gestured with one hand, and magic forced the gathered slaves to raise their chins high, exposing their throats. Somehow fighting against the puppet control, the dusky-skinned couple reached sideways, touching each other’s hands, drawing strength and comfort in their last moment. Tears streamed from the corners of their eyes, running down the sides of their upturned faces.
Standing with their sacrificial knives in hand, the council members hesitated, looking down at Nicci. She strode up the steep steps, gathering her magic. She could see that several of the wizards were intimidated by her boldness. The crowd had fallen silent, awed that she would stand up to Thora.
Nicci felt magic boiling within her ready to be unleashed.
Elsa and Damon both lowered their knives, uncertain. Maxim appeared to be amused. The rest of the wizards didn’t seem to know what to do.
On top of the pyramid, Maxim said out of the corner of his mouth, “Just get it over with, Thora. No need for such a dramatic flair.”
The sovrena scoffed at the hesitation of the others. In an impatient, offhand gesture, she twitched her finger and gestured down at the line of slaves fifteen feet below her. With a cruel smile on her thin lips, she drew her sharp, lacquered fingernail across the air in a quick, casual slash.
Nicci lunged, building up a swirl of solidified air to knock back the wizards, but before she could release it, Thora’s knife of magic, sharper than the sharpest razor, ripped across the throats of the twelve shocked slaves. All at once, their eyes bulged, and they jerked and twitched, and the puppet hold was released.
The slaves collapsed forward as their knees buckled. Their heads had nearly been severed by Thora’s invisible blade. The slaves pitched into the trough, spilling gouts of blood into the channels in front of them.
Maxim and the five duma members held their ceremonial knives, looking perplexed and surprised. None of them had moved.
Nicci staggered on the steps, astonished. “Dear spirits!”
Blood flowed, and magic built in a rush around the pyramid.
A wind of increasing whispers crossed the crowd. They stood motionless.
Nicci struck out with her wall of air, but Thora responded and knocked her back with a similar blow, throwing her off balance. She tumbled back onto the steep stone staircase. From below, Nathan rushed up to catch her.
As the blood from the slaves filled the mirrorized trough, Maxim raised his hands high and made sweeping gestures. The red river flowed through the gutters, defying gravity as it rolled uphill to the top platform, where it spread out and filled the engraved patterns of the spell-form.
All seven ruling council members gathered around the hemispherical bowl. They grasped the silver edges, turned it so that it was aligned directly upward. When the blood of the slaves had filled the pattern engraved in the platform, the crimson current fountained up in a single stream and poured into the mirrored cauldron.
The sovrena and wizard commander stood in place while the other five wizards retreated. The half sphere vibrated, shimmered, and a column of twisted magic rocketed upward, like a geyser. The swirl rose higher and higher until it reached its zenith far overhead and spread out like falling water, rippling through the air. It curled down to create a transparent dome that covered all of Ildakar, flowing past the outer walls to the river bluffs.
The crowd cheered,
Too late. Nicci felt sick, defeated, as the wizard picked her up from where she had fallen on the steep stone stairs. She groaned to Nathan, “I should have stopped it.” She was angry at herself, but more furious with the sovrena.
At the top of the pyramid, Thora seemed pleased, standing beside her husband as they reveled in their handiwork. The sovrena didn’t even show anger toward Nicci for her defiance, because it had amounted to nothing.
“You didn’t know what was going to happen, Sorceress,” Nathan said, his voice thin and sickened.
“We knew. We both knew. And now we’re imprisoned under the shroud.” Her head pounded. “We can’t stay in Ildakar. We have a mission.”
Nathan squared his shoulders. “Perhaps this confirms that our mission is here. Even if we can’t escape, we have plenty of work to do.” He sniffed. “They will wish we had left when we had the chance.”
Nicci recalled that time passed differently inside the shroud. She forcibly opened her clenched fists. “Even if it takes eternity,” she said quietly.
CHAPTER 45
Two large ships set sail from Tanimura and headed south out of Grafan Harbor. The brisk breeze made the sea choppy, although the sun was bright.
Verna went to the bow of the foremost ship and stood with the wind blowing her graying hair back. The salty spray moistened her cheeks. She realized she was smiling, and her heart was full of possibilities again as she thought of their journey to Cliffwall. It was a strange feeling, and she welcomed it.
“I have a purpose now,” she said to herself.
The young novice Amber came up to join her, her dark blond hair pinned back and her loose dress clinging to her willowy form with the bodice tied tight across her small breasts. “We all have a purpose, Prelate. This is my first great journey. I’m very happy you let me accompany you.”
All of the Sisters had insisted on coming along, and Verna could not turn them away. Those who had returned to Tanimura looking for some small spark of hope in the ashes of the Palace of the Prophets had been disappointed. They had looked to Verna for leadership, but she hadn’t known what to tell them. Now that Nicci and Nathan had blazed a trail across the Old World and sent messages back, Verna clung to the new possibility.
After the camouflage shroud had fallen years ago, the Cliffwall caretakers had sent out a call for gifted scholars to help sort through the immense archive. In retrospect, that had been a dangerous decision, but the isolated people hadn’t been aware of the powerful knowledge in all those volumes. One outside scholar had been Roland, who became the Lifedrinker. Another had unleashed a spell that made the stone walls flow like wet clay, melting an entire tower of prophecy writings.
Verna knew those people needed careful guidance from her and the other Sisters.
A sailor shouted from the lookout, and the crew members paused in their chores, going to the side rails to look, along with many members of the D’Haran army. Amber pointed excitedly. “What are they? Sharks?”
Verna saw the sleek bullet shapes rising up and diving down, like a vanguard to lead the ships along. “Not sharks, child—dolphins. They are considered a good sign among sailors, and it’s a good sign for us, too.”
Amber grinned. “I can’t wait to tell my brother.” Captain Norcross was on the second ship with the other half of the soldiers and six of the Sisters. “What an adventure
!”
“Not just an adventure. This is our mission. We have work to do as Sisters of the Light.”
Oliver and Peretta had also come out on deck. They were inseparable now, relieved to have accomplished what they were sent to do. Oliver squinted to make out the dolphins. “I long to see the canyons again, and all the books in the great library.” He sighed. “I guess I am homesick.”
Peretta’s tight ringlets glistened with diamonds of spray. She and Oliver wore clean traveling clothes, replaced in Tanimura. The girl’s dark eyes looked just as eager as Oliver’s. “I wish you were a memmer. If you had the gift of perfect memory, you could remember every day and every place down to the tiniest detail.”
He gave her a skeptical look. “Does that mean you don’t miss home?”
Peretta looked embarrassed. “I still miss it.”
Verna knew in her heart that her Sisters had to study that great archive of lost lore. Cliffwall was likely one of the central sites Nathan had talked about. She remembered when she and the Mord-Sith Berdine had pored through immense libraries in the People’s Palace, when they had discovered the first hints of the Chainfire spell. After hearing the descriptions from Oliver and Peretta, Verna thought the wealth of information inside Cliffwall might be an even greater treasure trove.
Even though prophecy was gone, there would be so much to learn, so much to study. All of the untrained scholars needed to be guided and taught. If the Sisters could do as they had done for so many centuries in the Palace of the Prophets, those scholars could well become an army of wizards, ready to aid Lord Rahl in bringing about his golden age. As she stood on deck, Verna took out the glazed clay toad figurine she had found in the ruins, holding it in her palm, a symbol and a memory of what had once been.
Maybe she would find some other good place to put it, once they reached Cliffwall. The continuity pleased her.
* * *
They sailed onward for days, the two ships side by side. General Zimmer had handpicked one hundred fifty soldiers from the garrison, the best trained among his men. They had packed their armor, weapons, and traveling clothes, written letters of farewell to send back to their families. The rest of the soldiers remained behind in Tanimura, maintaining the foothold there and expanding the strength and security of the D’Haran Empire. Lord Rahl would be dispatching thousands more men in the coming month, to move down the coast and establish other outposts as well.
But this mission to Cliffwall would be the first and the farthest. One hundred fifty soldiers was not a sufficient military force to do any conquering, but they would be enough to establish the presence of D’Hara and to make sure the name of Lord Rahl was known.
With so many soldiers crowded aboard two sailing ships, their expedition had the potential for a miserable voyage, but they were well provisioned. “Soldiers of the D’Haran army do not need to be pampered,” Zimmer had told her. “Think of the terrible enemies they’ve already fought. They won’t be afraid of a sea voyage.”
By the fourth day, however, the enemy they could not fight was seasickness, and many of the men were miserable, clutching their stomachs, retching into buckets or leaning over the side of the ship. They were foot soldiers, most of whom had lived their lives on dry land.
Verna and her Sisters tended to the miserable soldiers. The prelate herself used a damp rag to comfort General Zimmer, who huddled in his small cabin with the shutters drawn over his porthole. He refused to step outside in the fresh air so that his soldiers would not see his weakness.
“I doubt they’re in any condition to watch much of anything,” Verna said. “How do you expect to conquer the Old World if you can’t even get out of bed?”
“I’ll conquer the Old World once we dock,” Zimmer groaned.
By the time the two ships reached Kherimus, the first port of call south of Tanimura, most of the seasickness had passed, and the men happily disembarked for a day. Verna and Zimmer went into the town to buy maps of the lands farther south so they had some idea of where they were going. Oliver and Peretta joined them to look at the charts. The two young scholars pointed far beyond the boundary of the largest map. “That’s where we need to go.”
The two ships sailed to Larrikan Shores two days farther down the coast, and then, after a fierce and frightening squall that nearly swamped them, they reached the large city of Serrimundi. They sailed into the harbor guarded by the enormous stone statue of the Sea Mother. General Zimmer shaded his eyes and stared up at the statue that emerged from the high cliff. “Can you imagine what it took to carve that, Prelate?”
Verna tried to picture crews of sculptors dangling from ropes or standing on platforms, chiseling away to create the lovely female figure. Seabirds flew around the sculpture, nesting among the carved tresses of her hair. She didn’t have any answer for him.
Zimmer nodded to himself as he gazed around the harbor, assessing the other ships. “We’ll get what we need here and move onward.”
“And what exactly do we need, General?” Verna asked.
“More room, for one thing. I have a writ from Lord Rahl, and I intend to use it to commandeer a third ship and more supplies.”
Peretta said, “Renda Bay is just down the coast. I recall all the contours of the shore between here and there. I can guide you without any charts.”
“She is a memmer,” Oliver said, with a hint of sarcasm.
“I believe she mentioned that once or twice,” Zimmer said. “But the captain and I would rather have detailed charts. More importantly, I must talk with the harborlord to finish outfitting this operation. We’re an expeditionary force and we have a long journey inland. Unless I intend to waste months marching over the mountains on foot, I’ll need horses, many horses.” He grinned at the idea. “We’ll have a real military expedition.”
CHAPTER 46
Though the sandstone walls around the training pit were only ten feet high, they seemed insurmountable as Bannon stood on the sands. It was a bowl-shaped arena thirty feet wide. The stone had been hacked, sheer and clean. He would never be able to climb out.
“Sweet Sea Mother,” he muttered, trying to calm himself.
Two of the morazeth had dragged him out of his cell and pulled him along so fast that he stumbled. He tried to cooperate, but they didn’t want to make it easy on him or on themselves. “My friends are coming for me!” Bannon cried out, as if that might frighten them. “We’ll leave Ildakar and go far away.”
One of the spell-scarred women twisted her mouth in a frown. “You won’t be leaving. The wizards worked the blood magic yesterday and restored the shroud. No one can depart from the city.”
Bannon felt a cold twist in his gut. He had been worried about his own plight, not even thinking what might be happening outside. Where were Nicci and Nathan? Were his friends in trouble, too? Were they all prisoners within this city, separated from the world and time? Or had they escaped without him?
One of the morazeth nudged him forward. “You have your own prison to worry about right here, boy. Do well, and you will deserve our training.”
The other woman said, “Do well, and you’ll survive.”
They had led him to the edge of the practice pit, an empty featureless ring with a floor of sand and fine pea gravel raked smooth. He saw no way to climb down into the pit. “How do I—”
The women had shoved him, and he fell, sprawling so hard in the yielding ground that it knocked the wind out of him. He coughed, dragged himself to his hands and knees. “Now what?” he asked aloud, but the morazeth walked away from the rim above.
He turned slowly, looking at the sheer walls. This practice pit seemed simple and basic. Maybe for beginners …
Bannon heard movement above and looked up to see Lila in her black leather over her rune-marked skin. She was barefoot, standing at the edge, studying him. She cracked her knuckles before tugging on a pair of tight leather gloves. “I wouldn’t want to scar you too badly, boy. At least not so soon.”
She sprang over the ed
ge and dropped down into the pit. She landed in a crouch, perfectly balanced. She held her arms loosely, gloved fists on her hips. “I feel a little stiff this morning, and I need some exercise. Fight me.” She flashed her white teeth, but it was by no means a smile. “I’ll reward you for each blow you land on me.” She came forward, and even though she was smaller than he, Bannon took a step back. “And I plan to deny you any rewards this day.”
“I don’t want to fight you,” he said.
“Then you will be very sore and bloody before this session is through.” She lunged toward him, feinted with her left hand, and slapped him across the face with her right. The glove padded the impact, but his jaw jerked sideways and he felt stinging pain.
He raised his forearm to block a second blow, but Lila struck him on the other side of the face. He shook his head, and then swung blindly. He tried to hit her stomach, but managed only to strike her side. He could feel her ribs beneath her skin. Somehow, he sensed that she had let him touch her.
“Do you like the feel of my flesh, boy?” she taunted. “You can touch it all you like … if you can strike me.”
Lila punched him in the center of the chest, but just a light blow to prove she could do it. Then she boxed his ears and danced back. Bannon’s heart was pounding. He held up both of his hands, feeling fear and anger. He didn’t want to be in this place, separated from his friends, trapped in this strange city under an invisible dome. His real concern was inside this practice pit, here and now, facing this lean young woman who seemed to consider pain nothing more than flirtation. He had to survive this training if he was ever going to get free and return to his friends.
Hoping to surprise her, he charged toward Lila, swinging both arms, punching the air with his fists, trying to land any contact. Lila danced from side to side, and he adjusted his approach, using his size and weight for whatever advantage he could. He punched her in the left shoulder, making the morazeth spin just enough that he could drive in with an uppercut that clipped her jaw. It was a solid blow, and Lila reeled backward. She caught her breath, flapping her gloved hands and grinning. “That’s a nice start.”
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