Shroud of Eternity

CHAPTER 24

High Captain Avery looked shaken as he sought out Sovrena Thora the following morning, marching like an executioner’s apprentice into the main chamber of the ruling tower.

Nicci had decided to watch the wizards’ aloof political discussions while she waited for Nathan to finish his consultations with Andre. She felt she might find an opportunity to comment on ways they could better serve their own people, though she doubted they would listen. The ruling council seemed to have no real business to conduct, and their conversation served little purpose. Among the duma members, only Renn and Quentin were in attendance this time, apparently because they had nothing else to do in the city; the seats reserved for Andre, Ivan, Elsa, and Damon remained empty.

The sovrena sat in her ruling chair, bored, tapping laquered fingernails on the carved wooden arm. Maxim sat watching a large fly buzz in the air around him; he traced its path with his finger, and then, with a quick grin, he released his gift, and the fly turned to stone, dropping like a small pebble to clink on the blue marble floor. No one paid attention to Nicci.

Then Avery and another guard rushed in with a clatter of metal-shod boots, the lapped scales of fine armor jingling on their chests. Their faces were ashen. Avery placed a fist against his heart and took a knee on the blue marble tiles before the two rulers. “Sovrena, Wizard Commander! There has been a murder.”

Nicci became instantly alert, her blue eyes intense. Renn and Quentin sat up, forgetting their aimless discussion about repairs needed in the city’s largest tannery, or the choice of color for roof tiles on one of the silkworm hatcheries.

“A murder?” Maxim sounded intrigued rather than horrified. “Tell us.”

Avery regained his feet and looked at Thora rather than the wizard commander. “One of my guards on evening patrol last night was assaulted in a midlevel square, the one with the fountain of the dancing fishes.”

“That’s a nice fountain,” Maxim said.

“Silence, husband!” Thora snapped. “How was he killed?”

“Butchered,” said Avery.

The second guard said in a quavering voice, “Blood everywhere. Lieutenant Kerry was stabbed multiple times. His throat was cut and…” He couldn’t seem to find the words.

Avery answered for him. “The wounds were made with jagged glass shards.”

“How do you know this?” Thora asked. “Cuts could have been made with knives.”

“Because when they were done, the assassins thrust the shards into Kerry’s eyes and left them there.” Avery nodded to the sickened-looking guard next to him. “Captain Trevor here found the body.”

“It was full daylight by the time anyone sent word,” Trevor said. He had a round face, and his pale skin flushed easily. He removed his helmet so that his light brown hair stuck out. “The dead body had been there for hours. Even though people were up and about, no one reported it. Someone should have seen him. There were people—craftsmen, merchants, slaves—going about their morning business. And Kerry was just there, dead in the fountain … blood all over the place.” He swallowed hard. “And those glass shards in his eyes.”

“Now we’ll have to drain and clean the fountain,” Maxim said. “I liked the dancing fish, one of our best sculptures.”

“Mirrormask did it,” Renn grumbled from the lower bench, running a finger between his second and third chins. “He and his wretched followers grow more bold every day.”

“Agreed,” said Sovrena Thora. Her face had gone pale with fury. “We must crush them.”

Nicci knew that Ildakar’s oppressive rulers only inspired such unrest. In Altur’Rang and in other cities in the south, the people had had enough of the unfair Imperial Order, and they had eventually torn it down, violently. She spoke up, “If the duma members offered equality and freedom, then the people would have no need for a Mirrormask.” She knew these wizards would be deaf to such reasoning. They were as fossilized in their ways as if one of Maxim’s petrification spells had backfired into their open minds.

Thora shot her an annoyed glare. “The wizards of Ildakar must stand firm. The city has many gifted, but we are the strongest. We have to marshal our resources.” She swung her sea-green gaze toward Nicci. “Since you are so eager to help, Sorceress, we need to understand what we have to work with. Until Andre manages to restore Nathan Rahl’s gift, we should find out how you can help us.”

“I’m not afraid to fight for a just cause,” Nicci said. “But it depends who the true enemy is.”

Quentin made a rude noise through his plump lips. “The enemy is obvious. Those butchers murdered an innocent guard. They thrust glass shards in his eyes.”

“People express their displeasure in different ways,” Nicci said.

She thought of the horrific tortures Emperor Jagang had inflicted on his captives, his servants, or his lovers if they displeased him. She remembered one balding servant with a fringe of dark hair. The poor man had stumbled while carrying a decanter of Jagang’s favorite wine. He slipped in a pool of blood seeping from the body of a scrawny young woman Jagang had just murdered by bashing her head against the stone corner of a table. Nicci—Death’s Mistress—had watched it all, immune to Jagang’s violent tendencies. He had often taken out his anger on her.

The young girl had had such a beautiful face, but when he tore her gown open to rape her, he discovered large dark moles on her breasts, and in disgust, he had killed her. The girl’s death had been swift, a response to his rage and displeasure.

But moments later, when the unfortunate servant slipped in her blood and spilled the wine, Jagang took more time meting out his punishment. He staked the man on the trampled grass outside his command tent. He had one of his surgeons slit open the man’s belly, careful not to kill him; then he had poured a basket of ravenous rats into his abdominal cavity and sewed it shut again. He left enough gaps to provide air so the rats wouldn’t suffocate, giving them time to devour all of the hapless servant’s entrails before burrowing their way up to his heart and lungs.

No, she couldn’t be overly horrified by glass shards in a dead man’s eyes.

“Mirrormask points out flaws in your society,” Nicci said. “The murder of the guard, and the glass shards in his eyes, were to make a point. Maybe if you bothered to hear why your people are dissatisfied, you could prevent further murders.”

“We’ll prevent the murders once we catch Mirrormask,” Maxim said, then lowered his voice. “If that’s even possible.”

Thora rose from her chair and left the dais. “Come with me to my sunroom, Nicci. We will discuss your abilities.”

“On the condition that I learn about your abilities as well,” Nicci said, seeing the opportunity. “The wizards of Ildakar use the gift differently from how I was trained.”

Maxim bounced up from his high seat and hurried to tag along. “I’ll join you.”

Thora’s face puckered. “And what do you add to the conversation?”

“I can offer my charming company.” He waved his hands. “High Captain Avery, go clean up the mess down by the pretty fountain. Send your men to see if you can capture those murderers, though I doubt you’ll have more luck than with the past three murders.”

“There have been three murders?” Nicci asked.

The wizard commander shrugged. “It’s a large city.”

* * *

The sovrena’s airy sunroom had walls decorated with frescoes of flowers, trees, waterfalls, and peaceful meadows in which cavorted numerous naked and well-endowed men and women.

Thora took a moment to tend her cages of larks, nearly two dozen birds crowded behind the fine gold wire. “Their music is perfect and precious. I draw peace just from watching them. My pets please me, but most of all, they know their place.” She turned a quick sidelong glance at Nicci. “They live their lives in these cages. They perform well, and they have no further aspirations.”

“How do you know what a songbird thinks?” Nicci asked.

“I can tell from their music. If they were not happy, they wouldn’t keep singing.”

Jagang had enjoyed the screams of his torture victims. “Perhaps they merely cry out in misery,” she suggested. “And you hear it as music.”

The sovrena scowled. “You are our guest, yet you persist in criticizing our ways.”

“I am here out of duty to my friend Nathan. We will leave as soon as the fleshmancer restores his gift.”

Maxim came into the room a moment later, followed by servants carrying lunch: a fresh baked fish stuffed with herbs and covered with a buttery sauce, accompanied by baskets of warm pastries and a bottle of bloodwine. The wizard commander served himself first, scooping out the flaky meat from the fish, careful to pick away the bones. He sat by himself eating. “Before long, we will raise the shroud again. You don’t wish to stay with us?”

“We will be gone by then,” Nicci said. The wizard commander made a tsking sound of disappointment.

Thora said, “When our city is safely hidden again, our customs won’t bother your sensibilities anymore.” She took a delicate bite of fish. “For now, we have to fight against heinous rebels. You said you are able to use wizard’s fire? That is not common for a sorceress. What other spells can you unleash?”

“I can unleash whatever magic is warranted in a situation,” Nicci said. “I acquired many abilities from a wizard I killed, and I also studied among the Sisters of the Light and the Sisters of the Dark.”

“Ah, so Subtractive Magic then,” Maxim said. “Most unusual.”

“You served the Keeper, and you complain of our ways?” Thora scoffed.

“I was in error. I now serve Lord Rahl and his new golden age, a world in which all people can choose their own fate and live their own lives.”

“Quaint, and impractical.” Carrying her plate, Thora tapped the gold wire cages, and the startled larks sang with great intensity. “Perhaps you’re right. Maybe they sing because they are frightened, but it still sounds like beautiful music to me.”

Nicci served herself fish and fresh bread, and Maxim poured them each a goblet of the deep red bloodwine. He took a long drink of his. “Where else did you learn your magic? Other teachers? Other archives?”

“I learned from my life experience—and I have had much experience. With each new challenge, I strengthened my abilities and found new techniques. When I fight a dangerous opponent, I choose my weapons carefully.” Her voice became quiet and husky as she thought of poor Thistle and the deadly arrow poisoned with her heart’s blood. “Sometimes those weapons are terrible.”

Maxim interjected, “Your companion Bannon mentioned something about a great library. An archive of magical lore. Is that true?”

“He called it Cliffwall,” Thora said, “an immense archive that was hidden at the time of the great wars.”

Nicci was instantly wary. “Bannon spoke of this?”

“He told our son,” Maxim said. “It sounds wonderful! We shall have to investigate.” He raised his voice for any servant within earshot. “Someone, send Renn! I need him here now. Tell him the wizard commander requests it.”

Nicci heard a bustle of footsteps in the hall as a servant ran down the corridor. “Why do you need Renn?” she asked.

“Of all the duma members, he is our most diligent scholar. And the least useful. I’m certain he will be fascinated to hear about Cliffwall. You must tell him how to find it.”

Nicci hesitated. “It was hidden for a reason.”

“Yes, in the winding canyons on the other side of Kol Adair. We know that much,” Maxim said. “Surely it can’t be too hard to find.”

Thora searched among the rolls, but did not find one she liked. “Our histories remember when the ancient wizards secretly tried to preserve the world’s knowledge before Emperor Sulachan could destroy it all. Cliffwall was thought to be lost.”

Maxim said, “We’d better find it again and discover what other interesting lore they preserved.”

Nicci stiffened. “The information in Cliffwall is dangerous. Because the untrained scholars there didn’t know what they were doing, they almost destroyed the world. Twice, in fact.”

“All the more reason for us to send our expertise.” Maxim smiled just as the wizard Renn bustled in, swirling his maroon robes. He walked with a waddling gait, not because he was overly fat, but because his legs were so short.

Thora looked at Maxim, kept her expression cool. “It is a rare occurrence, but I agree with my husband.” She looked at the befuddled wizard. “Renn, we have a mission for you. There is a great archive called Cliffwall, a reservoir of preserved magical knowledge. Put together a party and go find it for us. Nicci will give you the information you need.”

Nicci placed her hands at her side. “You’ll never find it. It remained hidden for millennia.”

“You said yourself that its camouflage shroud is down. I’m sure Renn can discover Cliffwall.” Maxim pointed to Renn. “It’s on the other side of Kol Adair. Cross over the mountains, find the desert canyons. It can’t be difficult.”

Renn’s mouth opened and closed in astonishment as the wizard was caught between fascination and fear. “I would like nothing more than to find a new archive of information. Over the past fifteen centuries, I’ve read every book in the city of Ildakar. But if the archive is outside and … far away…” He smacked his lips together. “Well, the journey may be dangerous.”

“Then take an escort. A dozen armed guards.” Maxim sniffed. “In fact, why don’t you take that guard we met earlier, Captain … what was his name? Ahh, yes—Trevor.”

“He seemed useless here,” Thora added. “Too sickened by the sight of blood. Have him lead the group.”

“I do not think this is wise,” Nicci warned in a louder voice.

Thora scowled at her again. “You disapprove of much that we do, and yet Ildakar endures. I am the sovrena, and I make the decisions.” She gestured to dismiss Renn. “That is my command, and that is your duty as a member of the duma. Go find Cliffwall and see what we can use. It belongs to us anyway.” She squared her narrow shoulders, then nodded. “Much of that lore was taken from Ildakar three thousand years ago. It is time we had it back.”

“But … Sovrena,” Renn said, fluttering his fingers in the air. He brushed sweat from his forehead, then wiped it on his robes. “You are about to raise the shroud again. What if you restore it permanently while I am away?”

Maxim finished his bloodwine. “Then we will be very disappointed that you haven’t brought the Cliffwall records back in time.” He poured another goblet of bloodwine for himself, topped off Thora’s, then frowned when he saw that Nicci hadn’t taken so much as a sip. He waved his hand. “Go, Renn—you had better hurry!”

The wizard scurried off.