Death's Mistress

CHAPTER 3

The life book wrote itself.

Red sat on the stone bench, hands on her knees, not noticing that she left a smear of dark soot on her gray dress. As she worked her spell, a guiding magic suspended the crow-feather quill upright, and then it moved of its own accord, inscribing the story of Nathan Rahl.

Bending closer, the wizard looked on with boyish delight, resting an elbow on his knee. Nicci stepped up to watch the words spill out across the first page, line after line, and then move on to the next page. Each time the ink ran dry, the feather paused above the book, and Red plucked it out of the air, dipped it into the bowl of burned blood, and placed it back on the page. The flow of words resumed.

“I recall how many times I wrote and rewrote The Adventures of Bonnie Day until I was satisfied with the prose,” Nathan said, shaking his head as he marveled. “This is far easier.”

The story flowed, page after page, chronicling Nathan’s long life as a dangerous prophet, how he’d been imprisoned by the Sisters of the Light, first to train, then to control him … how for years they monitored his every utterance of prophecy, terrified of the turmoil that could arise from false interpretations. And prophecies were nearly always misinterpreted, warnings often misconstrued. Merely trying to avoid a dire fate usually precipitated that exact fate.

“People never seem to learn the lesson,” Nathan muttered as he read. “Richard was right to disregard prophecy for so long.”

Nicci agreed. “I am not sorry that prophecy is gone from the world.”

The words flew past faster than anyone could read them, and the life book’s pages turned of their own accord. Nicci scanned back and forth, catching some snippets of Nathan’s life, stories she already knew. On the road, he had spent much time telling her about himself, whether or not she asked.

He leaned closer as a new section began. “Oh, this is a good part.”

In his loneliness in the palace, the Sisters had occasionally taken pity on Nathan, hiring women from the finer brothels in Tanimura to comfort him. According to the tale as written in the life book, Nathan enjoyed the conversation of an ordinary woman with ordinary dreams and desires. Nathan had once whispered a terrible prophecy in the ear of a gullible whore—and the horrified young woman had run screaming from the Palace of the Prophets. Once out in the city, she repeated the prophecy to others, and the repercussions spread and spread, eventually triggering a bloody civil war … all due to Nathan’s reckless pillow talk to a woman he would never see again.

The Sisters had punished Nathan for that, curtailing his limited freedoms, even after he revealed that the supposed “mistake” had accomplished his intent of killing a young boy child destined to become a ruthless tyrant, a tyrant who would have slaughtered countless innocents.

“A relatively minor civil war was a small enough price to prevent that outcome,” Nathan remarked as he skimmed the black-blood words scrolling out.

When the quill ran dry again, Red dipped it into the skull bowl, stirred the burned blood, and set the feather tip on the page, where it continued to scratch and scrawl.

Nathan’s story went on and on—rambling, in Nicci’s opinion—and the feather pen wrote word after word. Of course, most of his adventures had occurred only after he managed to escape from the palace: his brief romance with Clarissa and its tragic end, his work with Richard Rahl to overthrow the Imperial Order and Emperor Jagang, his battles to stop the evil Hannis Arc and the undead Emperor Sulachan.

Faster than Nicci expected, the entire volume filled up. When the black blood finally reached the last page in the book, the tale ended with the all-too-recent account of Nicci and Nathan trudging through moss-covered skulls to find the witch woman in the Dark Lands. All of the charred-blood ink in the skull bowl was used up, and the lifeless feather dropped and drifted to the ground.

Nathan was obviously impressed with his own story. “Thank you, Red.” When he closed the cover, he was delighted to see that his name had appeared on the leather front and on the spine. “I shall carry the life book with me and read it off and on. I’m certain others would like to read it as well. Scholarly libraries will want copies.”

The witch woman shook her head. “That will not be possible, Nathan Rahl.” She took the tome from him. “I agreed to create a life book for you, but I never said you could keep it. The volume stays with me. That is my price.”

Nathan sputtered. “But that wasn’t what I thought … that isn’t the purpose—”

“You did not ask the price beforehand, Wizard,” Nicci said. “After living a thousand years, you should be wiser than that.”

Red ducked back into her cottage, leaving the volume on the bench, as if daring Nathan to take it and escape. He did not. She emerged with a smaller, thinner leather-bound book, which was also blank. “I will take your life story, but I give you something that’s worth far more. A new life book filled with potential, rather than stale old words.” She offered it to Nathan. “I have your past, your old story, but with this book, I give you the rest of your life. Live it the way you would want it to be written.”

Nathan ran a fingertip over the smooth leather cover, disappointed. “Thank you, I suppose.” He held the book in his hands.

“I happen to know that you, and the sorceress, are both vital to the future.” The witch woman stepped uncomfortably close to Nicci and dropped her voice. “Are you certain you don’t want a life book of your own? There may be things you need to learn.”

“I am certain, witch woman. My past is my story to keep, and my future will be written by me, in my own way, not through the control or influence of you or anyone else.”

“I just wanted to make the offer.” She turned away with a hint of secret amusement in her eyes, followed by a shadow of unexpected concern. “You may still be required to do things, Sorceress, whether or not you want to hear about them.”

Nathan opened his new life book and was surprised to find it wasn’t entirely blank. “There are words written on the first page. ‘Kol Adair.’” Perplexed, he looked up at Red. “I don’t recognize the term. Is it a name? A place?”

“It’s what you will need.” Red bent over her cooking fire and used the blackened femur to stir the coals and reawaken the flames. “You must find Kol Adair in the Old World, Nathan Rahl.” She flashed a glance at Nicci. “Both of you.”

“We have our own mission,” Nicci said. “Here in the Dark Lands.”

“Oh? And what mission is that? To wander aimlessly because you are too much in love with Richard Rahl to stay at his side? That is a pointless quest. A coward’s quest.”

Nicci felt the heat in her cheeks. “That’s not it at all.”

Nathan came to her defense. “After our last great battles, I wanted to come back here, to see if I could help the people.”

Red sniffed. “Another pointless quest. There are always people who need help, no matter where you go. In the Dark Lands? In the Old World? What is the purpose? Would you rather not save the world and save yourselves?”

Nicci turned her anger into annoyance. “You babble nonsense, witch woman.”

“Nonsense, is it? Turn the page, Nathan Rahl. Read your new life book.”

Curious, the wizard did as she suggested. Nicci leaned close, seeing other words written there on the second page.

Future and Fate depend on both the journey and the destination.

Kol Adair lies far to the south in the Old World. From there, the Wizard will behold what he needs to make himself whole again. And the Sorceress must save the world.

Nicci said, “I have helped save the world enough times already.”

But Nathan was more perplexed. “This is a game for you, witch woman. You planted this joke for us. Why would I need to be made whole again? Am I missing something?” He touched his arm, which seemed remarkably intact.

“That is not for me to say,” Red said. “You see what’s written, a path established long ago.”

“And prophecy is gone,” Nicci said. “Ancient predictions mean nothing.”

“Truly?” asked the witch woman. “Even pronouncements made when prophecy was as strong as the wind and the sun?” While Nathan flexed his fingers, as if searching for missing digits, Red brushed back her tangled locks of hair. “You of all people should know that it is unwise for others to interpret a prophecy.”

Nicci tightened the laces on her traveling boots and adjusted her black dress. She could not keep the skepticism out of her voice. “As I said, there is no more prophecy, witch woman. How can you know where we need to go?”

Red’s black lips formed a mysterious smile. “Sometimes I still know things. Or maybe it is a revelation I foresaw long before the stars changed overhead. But I do know that if you care about Lord Rahl and his D’Haran Empire, you will heed this warning and this summons. Kol Adair. You both need to make your way there, whether for the journey or the destination. If you don’t, then all that Richard Rahl has worked for may well be forfeit.” She shrugged, suddenly seeming aloof. “Do as you wish.”

Nathan slipped the new life book into a leather pouch at his side and closed the flap. “As Lord Rahl’s roving ambassador, my assignment is to travel to places that might not know about the changes in the world.” He looked up at the darkening sky through the canopy of the ancient oak. “But the exact route is at our discretion. We could go to the Old World just as well as to the Dark Lands.”

Nicci was not so convinced. “And you are going to take her babblings seriously, Wizard?”

Nathan stroked back his long white hair. “Frankly, I’ve had enough of the Dark Lands and all this gloom. The Old World has more sunshine.”

Nicci considered, realizing she had followed him, but with no real goal otherwise. She just wanted to serve Richard and strengthen his new, solid empire, to help bring about his longed-for golden age. “I have my own orders from Lord Rahl to explore his new empire and send reports back of the things we find. At Kol Adair, or elsewhere.”

“And save the world,” Red added.

She did not believe Red’s prediction—how was she supposed to save the world by traveling to, or seeing, a place she’d never heard of?—but the wizard had a valid point.

The Old World, once part of the Imperial Order, was now under the rule of D’Hara. Even those distant people would want to hear of their freedom, to know that Lord Rahl would insist on self-determination and standards of respect. She had to see what was out there, and take care of problems she saw, so that Richard need not be bothered. “Yes, I will go with you.”

Nathan adjusted his cape and shouldered his pack, just as eager to depart as he had been to find the witch woman in the first place, but Nicci hesitated. “Before we go south to the Old World, we need to tell Lord Rahl where we’re going. We have no way to communicate with him.” She didn’t want Richard or Kahlan to worry about the two of them if they disappeared for a time.

“We could find a way to send a message when we reach Tanimura,” Nathan said. “Or some other town along the way.”

Red surprised them. “I will take care of it.”

She picked up the crow’s limp carcass and cradled the bird in her hands, extending its flopping wings. She adjusted its lolling head, straightened its broken neck, then closed her eyes in concentration.

After a moment, the crow squirmed and fluffed its feathers. Red set the reanimated bird back on the stone bench, where it tottered drunkenly. The neck remained angled in the wrong direction, and its eyes held no glint of life at all, but it moved, like a marionette. The crow stretched its wings, as if fighting the remnants of death, then folded them back against its sides.

“Tear a strip of paper from a page of your life book, Nathan Rahl,” she said, handing him the black quill. “There should be enough ink left for you to write a note for Lord Rahl.”

Nathan did so, scratching out a quick summary on a thin curl of paper. When he was finished, Red rolled it tightly and bound the strip to the crow’s stiff leg. “My bird has sufficient animation to reach the People’s Palace. Lord Rahl will know where you are going.”

She tossed the awkward crow up into the air. Nicci watched the dead bird plummet back to the ground, but at the last moment it extended its wings, stiffly flapped them, rose up beyond the enormous oak, and flew into the dusk.

Hunter’s ears perked up, and the catlike creature sniffed the air before bounding off into the forest to dart among the shadows of the tall trees. Out beyond Red’s sheltered hollow, Nicci saw a flash of fur, something as large as a horse prowling through the thickets. Hunter happily bounded after it, frolicking through the underbrush, and disappeared along with the large predatory shape in the deeper gloom.

Red looked up. “Hunter’s mother often joins us for dinner.” Her mouth formed an odd smile. “Would you like to stay?”

Nicci took note of the strewn bones and skulls and decided not to take further risks. “We should go.”

“Thank you, witch woman,” Nathan said as they headed into the thickening night. Even alone in the wild, dark forest, Nicci guessed they would be safer than if they chose to stay at Red’s cottage.

Nathan strode along, paying no attention to the skulls. “It will be a grand adventure. Once we leave the Dark Lands, we can head south to Tanimura. At Grafan Harbor, we’re sure to find a ship sailing south. We will find Kol Adair, and that’s just a start.”

Richard had told her to go to the boundaries of the D’Haran Empire, and she decided that the far south was a perfectly viable option. “I suppose the rest of the world will be sufficient for our purposes.”

* * *

After Red watched the two disappear into the forest, Hunter trotted in and squatted by the cook fire. Moments later, his shaggy mother padded in, as big as a bear and bristling with cinnamon fur. The much smaller son nuzzled her, wanting to play, but Hunter’s mother thrust a huge head forward to Red, who dutifully scratched the silky fur behind the creature’s ears, scrubbing with the nails on both of her hands. Hunter’s mother made a sound that was somewhere between a growl and a purr; then she slumped heavily among the fallen leaves in the clearing.

Red picked up Nathan’s hefty life book. Yes, even a quiet and tedious life could add up to significant events in a thousand years. She knew the real chronicle was just beginning for Nathan, and the real mission in store for both of them. Even though Nicci refused to let Red create such a book for her, the witch woman had been an oracle. She knew that the life of the sorceress, both past and future, would fill many volumes as well.

And the Sorceress must save the world.

Carrying Nathan’s tome, Red pushed aside the hanging leather flap over the opening and ducked inside her cottage. The low dwelling was lit with the orange glow of guttering candles settled in skull pots. The front room was small and cramped, but at the back wall against the hillside, she pushed aside another door hanging.

She entered the main part of her dwelling, a large complex of wide passageways and grottoes burrowed into the hillside itself. Red stood before shelves and shelves that were filled with numerous volumes similar to the one she held now. She had collected so many life books over the years, over the centuries, that she had lost track.

But oddly, and chillingly, every single one of the books had ended with the strange and previously incomprehensible words:

Future and Fate depend on both the journey and the destination.

Kol Adair lies far to the south in the Old World. From there, the Wizard will behold what he needs to make himself whole again. And the Sorceress must save the world.

The same words in every book. Hundreds of them. Thousands of them. Each one with the same warning.

Red slid the story of Nathan Rahl into an empty slot on the shelf next to another volume. Countless life books, nearly one for each of those skulls buried under the moss.…