Shroud of Eternity

CHAPTER 38

Anxious for answers, Nathan followed the fleshmancer, wanting to be done with his weakness, ready to do anything so he could have his gift back, if only to fight alongside Nicci in rebuilding lldakar. Failing that, at least he would have achieved his reason for coming here. To be made whole again …

And Andre seemed to be his best source for solving the problem.

Originally, the fleshmancer had been intrigued by the loss of Nathan’s gift, yet he was easily distractible and left many things half finished. Now, instead of heading to his laboratory studio, the fleshmancer led him through the beautiful garden streets toward the towering pyramid at the top of the plateau.

“We are going to join the sovrena and the wizard commander in their preparations,” Andre said. “It is almost time to raise the shroud again.”

Nathan felt queasy as he walked along. As usual, he wore the copper-trimmed green robes Ildakar had given him, though he might have felt more comfortable in his travel clothes—tight black breeches, ruffled shirt, and a cape thrown across his shoulders so that he cut a dashing figure.

Reaching the base of the pyramid, Andre climbed the stone stairs with a jaunty step, one level after another, calling back to Nathan, “Better hurry. Thora and Maxim tend to be impatient, hmmm?”

One level below the top, the platform held a new fenced area, flimsy barricades of metal crossbars. “That looks like a corral,” Nathan remarked. “For wild beasts or livestock?” Sacrificial animals, he assumed.

Andre raised his eyebrows. “Livestock … yes, I suppose so. How else would we work the blood magic to project the shroud?”

“I don’t know,” Nathan said, then muttered, “Dear spirits, I may not wish to know.”

The wizard commander and the sovrena toiled together under the bright morning sunlight. Perfect prisms stood erect on silver poles, shattering sunlight into rainbows. Maxim adjusted the crystals, rotating them so that the multicolored rays fell upon a huge mirrored bowl turned toward the sky.

Thora glanced up at them as they arrived. Her face was drawn, her eyes shadowed with grief after the recent murder of High Captain Avery. Maxim seemed cheery, though. “Much work to do! We could use your help.”

“We are here,” Andre said. “Simply guide us.”

“What is this blood magic about?” Nathan asked. “I am willing to help protect Ildakar, but what is the cost, and how can I help you accomplish it?”

The sovrena’s face turned brittle. “You have no gift, Nathan Rahl. You cannot help us in any way.”

“Now, now, I want him to observe what we do,” Andre said. “He was once a great wizard. It can be an intellectual exercise for him, hmmm? If nothing else, he can assist in the manual labor.”

“I suppose we could use a slave or two,” Maxim said, “and our real slaves refuse to do it, because they know what the bloodworking entails.”

Nathan knew he had to walk a fine line. He couldn’t offend these people if he expected them to help him regain the heart of a wizard … unless the way to make himself whole again was through another means. Maybe the witch woman’s declaration meant that he had to fight to defend the innocent and downtrodden here in Ildakar, as Nicci suggested. But first he had to be sure.

“Tell me more about the process,” Nathan said. “How do you raise the shroud?”

“It is blood magic.” Thora sounded exasperated. “How can you claim to be a wizard and not know about blood magic?”

“The methods of magic are different where I come from,” Nathan said guardedly. “I was taught by the Sisters of the Light. The gift is the gift, and my Han is my own. Ildakar seems to have another approach to things.”

“Right now you have no Han whatsoever,” Maxim said with a capricious snicker. “But we will use your help if we can find a way. Perhaps when it is time, we’ll have you corral the new arrivals.”

Nathan glanced down from the top of the pyramid, saw the empty spell-inscribed corrals on the platform below. “You mean the slaves?”

“We may as well use the new ones,” Thora said.

“We will need only a dozen or so to work the traditional spell and restore the shroud temporarily,” Maxim said. “That’s all we require for now. The major working will take much more preparation, but there’s no need to be rash.”

“Twelve of the new slaves?” The answer pounded in front of Nathan’s mind, but he refused to accept it. “You intend to sacrifice them.”

Maxim peered down into the rune-etched mirror bowl that rested in an armillary stand in the middle of the pyramid platform. “Magic comes at a cost, and blood pays the price. We will use the lives of those expendable people to preserve our city.”

“Why do you object, hmmm?” Andre asked. “We may as well use raw slaves instead of well-established workers. Why waste time and effort training them? We’ll shed their blood and pour it into the rune cauldron, which will reflect its magic in a spiraling web of Han that creates our shroud.”

Nathan’s nostrils flared. “So, in order to camouflage your city, you must slay innocent people.”

“Only a dozen for now, and they aren’t even citizens of Ildakar.” Maxim gave a wistful smile. “Ah, you should have seen the terrible cost when we petrified Utros’s army. We had to sacrifice nearly a third of our citizenry, virtually all of the lower classes! It took centuries to rebuild the population to a stable level.” He cracked his knuckles. “But it worked. Ildakar is preserved, while the horrendous enemy army is nothing more than statues.”

“Except for Ulrich,” Nathan muttered.

The wizard commander dismissed it. “With hundreds of thousands of soldiers out there, we can accept one or two exceptions without growing too concerned.”

As he looked at the apparatus, Nathan thought he now understood the purpose of the basins and the coated troughs that fed into spell-forms, patterns woven into the pyramid itself. “And is it necessary?”

The fleshmancer frowned. “I have worked hard on your behalf, Nathan. You asked me to understand your problem and you begged me to learn how to restore your gift.” He narrowed his eyes. “Are you going to be afraid of that cost, too?”

Nathan felt torn, as a chill ran down his spine. In order to regain his gift, what exactly would he be willing to sacrifice? The magic had defined him for so long. His gift of prophecy had led to his imprisonment by the Sisters for a thousand years, but the magic was even more a part of him. He had learned how to live his life, to be the person he wanted to be before his gift had unraveled. Was Nathan willing to sacrifice the core of his being in order to have that again? After the selka attack aboard the Wavewalker, when the gift had abandoned him, Nathan had discovered how to defend himself, how to be himself. Was it so important to go back to something he had already learned how to live without?

Andre blew air through his lips. “Don’t look so disturbed, Nathan. I simply meant to give you food for thought. I am confident you’ll soon have your powers back, and you’ll be a true wizard of Ildakar.” He grinned, showing off his bright teeth. “The shroud will cover the city, and everything will once again be right with the world.”