Shroud of Eternity

CHAPTER 22

As night closed in, Nicci walked alone through the spacious tiled corridors of the grand villa, looking up at the glittering spray of stars visible through open vine-framed skylights. In alcoves and corners she found marble statues representing Ildakarans in various walks of life: a slender young woman carrying a jug of water on her shoulder; a broad-chested huntsman with two hares slung at his side; a guard wearing the same short cape, scaled chest armor, and shoulder pauldron as High Captain Avery; even an old crone with a back bent from a lifetime of labor and a bitter expression of spite, her head turned to one side as if to criticize anyone who walked past.

Nicci had never bothered to appreciate art, although when she’d taken Richard as her sham husband to Altur’Rang, she had seen him make wondrous carvings in stone, especially the inspired and uplifting statue called Truth, whose artistic power was so undeniable it had sparked a revolution in the oppressed city.

These statues in the grand villa, though, did not seem merely decorative. While not as horrific as the abominations Brother Narev had commissioned to show the flaws of mankind, they were still unsettling. Nicci guessed that these had once been actual citizens of Ildakar, petrified in punishment for some perceived misdeeds, like the boy yaxen herder. Wizard Commander Maxim considered himself Ildakar’s master sculptor, though he worked with magic and flesh instead of stone.

Bannon was away from the villa, presumably out with his newfound friends, so Nicci dined privately with Nathan in his room. Noticeably reticent, the wizard reported his work with Andre. “I believe the fleshmancer may have an answer for me. Today we created a map that showed the lines of my Han, and we could see an obvious flaw. I need to keep working with him to get my gift back.”

“That is why we came here, Wizard.” She saw how he brightened when she used the title, regardless of whether he could still touch his magic. “But I don’t want to dally. This city makes me uneasy. Although we must spread the news about Lord Rahl, I fear the rot in Ildakar goes deep.” In many ways, it reminded her of Altur’Rang.

Nathan licked his fingers after finishing a honeyed pastry for dessert. “I couldn’t agree more. I’m not certain that Ildakar can be saved by one defiant sorceress and her wizard companion … even if I do get my powers back. We need to be away from here before they raise their shroud again and seal the city out of time.”

Unsettled and fearing she might eventually have to stand against the wizards of Ildakar, Nicci returned to her quarters to consider her original training—the many skills she learned from the Sisters of the Light, as well as the terrible Subtractive Magic when she became a Sister of the Dark, serving the Keeper. Nicci had an arsenal of spells that surpassed that of most gifted opponents, but the wizards of Ildakar had already proven their extraordinary abilities. They had turned hundreds of thousands of men to stone and sealed their entire city away from time. Even Nicci couldn’t compete with that.

Since the star shift, she wasn’t convinced that all of the intricate magic she had learned—verification webs, spell-forms, actions and consequences and interactions—would work exactly as it once had. Now alone in her quarters, she stood before the shallow reflecting basin filled with water and studied her intense blue eyes, the blond hair she had brushed back and fastened with a jeweled Ildakaran pin. Her features were lovely.

Countless men had looked upon her with lust, and many men had used her. The one man she loved, though, had never seen her as desirable. Richard Rahl respected her and appreciated her help. He admired her as a companion, advisor, and one of his greatest allies in his quest for peace and freedom throughout the world. But Richard’s true devotion was reserved for Kahlan.

Love was not measured on the simple scale of human beauty, though. No objective jury could claim that Nicci or Kahlan was more attractive. Both were beautiful women, but Kahlan’s beauty was for Richard alone, while Nicci’s was her own.

Wrapped in her thoughts, she dipped her fingers into the still basin, shattering her perfect reflection. She splashed the water on her face.

Nicci had long ago lost her chance to have a warm and compassionate human heart, but now she was stronger, with the proper loyalties, devoted to serving Richard’s cause of freedom, even though Nicci wasn’t sure she would ever find—or even wish to find—real love. Nevertheless, she knew she was more human than she had ever been.

Releasing her gift to snuff out the lights around her room, Nicci lay back on the silky, cool sheets of the bed and sank into sleep, and peace, and dreams.…

For the first time in many days, as her consciousness drifted away, she found the spell bond with her sister panther, Mrra. Her mind’s eye became the cat’s eyes. Her body became lean and feline, and she felt the power of her muscles, the sharp danger of her claws as she loped across the grassy plain. Mrra had found easy hunting in the wild: fat antelopes, jackrabbits, even ground squirrels. She ate well, but she was restless, waiting for Nicci.

Mrra had prowled around the ancient stone soldiers for days. With her enhanced feline senses, she could detect no threat in the statues of armored men, but her real attention was directed toward the great city filled with buildings, filled with people … filled with pain. Mrra could have gone off into the hills long ago, but she had remained, connected by her spell bond to Nicci, even though the city seethed with uneasiness.

The sand panther would not leave Nicci—or even the friends Bannon and Nathan, who had shown her kindness. Mrra wanted to protect them all, but she could do nothing while they were inside the great city. Nicci suffered repeated memory dreams of Mrra’s captivity, how she had been branded by the chief handler, trained as part of a troka with her two sister panthers, how they had killed opponents in the combat arena … visions that Nicci now recognized with the crystal-sharp details of her personal experience.

Though Nicci felt tense as a guest in Ildakar, she was now free again in her dream, connected to the big cat. Mrra experienced life and saw the world through her predatory eyes, ignoring external obligations or politics. She simply existed. She hunted. She ran. She slept.

Connected by the spell bond, Mrra was no longer content with her solitary feline existence. Nicci was part of her. Now that the link had been reestablished, something reawakened inside the panther’s mind. She ran across the plain as dry grasses whispered past her. Her tawny fur was the same color, and she would have been invisible to an observer … until she attacked.

Now at night, when her vision was sharpest, Mrra prowled just outside the city walls, smelling humans, the bitter stink of where they dumped chamber pots over the tall stone barriers. Garbage middens were scattered along the piled stone. Mrra explored the perimeter of the great city, avoided the towering gates, which were closed for the night. She climbed up speckled granite outcroppings, leaped onto a high boulder spattered with lichen that abutted a low section of the defenses. Decades ago, an acorn had fallen into a crack in the rock, and over the years a tall oak had grown, reaching higher, splitting the granite further with twisting roots.

Using her claws, Mrra scaled the oak, climbing to the uppermost branches. From a high, sturdy bough, the cat stared at the impenetrable wall, assessed the top, which was still more than fifteen feet higher than the tree. She coiled her muscles, judging the distance. She did not think, did not hesitate. With strength throbbing in her muscles, she sprang, making a mighty leap through the air.

The big cat barely reached the top of the wide wall. She scrabbled with her outstretched claws, gripping the edge of the last stone block, snagging one of the loose vines that grew over the wall. She kicked with her back paws, pulling herself up, thrashing her ropelike tail. With a great heave, Mrra pulled her body onto the top of the wall. She panted, tongue lolling as she rested for a moment; then she began to move, crouching low. She slunk along the top of the wall until she found a nearby rooftop in the lower level of the city.

Springing again, Mrra landed on the enameled tiles. She knocked several tiles loose, which clinked and clattered down in a cascade. Shouts came from inside the dwelling, but Mrra bounded down into a shadowy alley and darted away before a man and his wife emerged, holding up a lantern pot. They called out, challenging the intruder. The panther didn’t understand the words, heard only noises, human voices. Mrra could smell their fear.

She was inside Ildakar now, the hated city, the place of pain. Where her sister panther was.

Nicci rolled restlessly in her sleep, uneasy, not accustomed to sensing fear from the sand panther.

Mrra drove away her skittishness and kept moving. She stuck to the shadows. There was much food to eat here, although the hunting would be different.

From her trancelike state, Nicci tried to communicate with Mrra. “You must hide! Hide! Find a place before dawn comes.”

Mrra kept moving through the lower levels of the city, which were relatively empty in the deep heart of the night. Guards patrolled the streets, and Mrra sensed armored soldiers in the distance, many of them walking alone, some in groups of three or four. A few other people were about—night workers who stuck to the main thoroughfares, and some who liked the shadows as much as Mrra did. Human hunters.

She heard a muffled shout ahead, a scuffle, a fight. Curious, but wary, Mrra padded along, darting around the corner of an alley to where she could see an open street. Three brown-robed humans were attacking one of the lone city guardsmen.

Nicci saw through the panther’s eyes, but also through the filter of Mrra’s experience. Everything seemed different. The three human figures were attacking the guard like a troka of panthers bringing down large prey. The guard fought, but the human predators were stronger.

Mrra smelled blood.

Nicci smelled blood.

But it did not make either of them hungry. Instead, the scuffle attracted attention, and Mrra melted back into the darkness, concerned only with finding a place to hide before the sun rose.