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.…
CHAPTER 4
With their new destination in mind, though somewhat skeptical of the importance Red had assigned to it, the two traveled for weeks through the Dark Lands before reaching the more populated areas of D’Hara. Heading south, they found well-traveled roads and villages, including inns where they could eat home-cooked meals instead of foraging for game or wild fruit, and they could sleep in actual beds instead of bedding down on the forest floor. As a woods guide, Richard Rahl had reveled in finding his own trails in the forest, but Nicci much preferred civilization, and Nathan certainly did not object to comforts.
Along the way, the two gathered news and disseminated their own tales about Lord Rahl’s victory over Emperor Sulachan. Most people in the south of D’Hara knew little about the political changes that had occurred, but everyone had seen the stars convulse and shift in the sky, and they listened to the travelers with both wonder and dismay.
In the warm, crowded common rooms of inn after inn, Nathan spread his hands and explained in a deep, confident voice, “Truth be told, the end of prophecy means that you can live your own lives and make your own decisions. I was once a prophet myself, and I speak from experience—such powers were far more trouble than they were worth. Good riddance!”
Many local oracles and self-proclaimed seers, however, were less enthusiastic about the changes. Those with a genuine gift had already noticed the sudden lack of ability, and those who continued to sell their predictions were surely cheating gullible customers. Such “prophets” were incensed to hear themselves denounced as frauds and charlatans.
But chastising frauds was not the mission Nicci had adopted, nor did she consider it “saving the world.” She moved ahead with her next goal in sight. She would go to the Old World, scout the new lands Lord Rahl now ruled, and help Nathan find the mysterious Kol Adair, whatever it was. Tanimura would be their starting point. The great port city was one of the northernmost bastions of the Old World, a place where the main overland trade routes converged.
As the two neared the coast, the air took on a fresh, salty bite. Traffic increased on the wide road through the coastal hills. Creaking mule-drawn carts passed them, as well as wealthy noblemen or merchants riding well-groomed horses with expensive tack. Farmers guided wagons laden with vegetables or sacks of grain, heading to the markets in the port city.
While walking along in the warm sun, the wizard held up his end of the conversation—more than his end, in fact, but Nicci saved her energy for the hike. When they reached the top of a hill, the view unfolded before them.
The old, sprawling city of Tanimura had been built on a long peninsula that extended into the sparkling blue expanse of the ocean. To the west, before spilling into the sea, the Kern River had excavated a broad valley. Croplands and villages dotted the countryside, interspersed with patches of dark forest. Nicci’s focus, though, was on the whitewashed buildings of the extensive city.
The wizard stopped to rest, shading his eyes. “A splendid view. Think of all the possibilities Tanimura offers.” He plucked at his threadbare sleeves, his frayed cuffs, his open vest. “Including fresh clothes.”
Nicci said in a quiet voice, “It’s been years since I was here.” She narrowed her blue eyes, scanning the city, noting what she remembered and what had changed.
The wizard gave a noncommittal grunt. “Once I escaped the palace, I thought I would never come back … yet here we are.”
Down the sweep of shore, Grafan Harbor was bustling with large cargo or military ships that sported creamy white sails, as well as fishing dhows with triangular sails. Nicci’s lips quirked in a small, hard smile. “I see they’ve managed to rebuild the docks.”
In the harbor here, she and her fellow Sisters of the Dark had destroyed the Lady Sefa, the ship that had held them hostage. Emperor Jagang had granted the women their revenge on Captain Blake and his vile crew, even encouraged it, and Nicci and her companions were not kind to the sailors who had raped and abused them. The Sisters had found a turnabout pleasure, peeling off the soft flesh of the men, strip by strip. Then, unleashing the full force of Subtractive Magic, they had destroyed the Lady Sefa, lifting the entire vessel out of the water, snapping the masts like twigs, crashing the huge ship down onto the Grafan docks, and then wreaking havoc upon the whole harbor, as if the other ships were no more than the toys of a malicious child.
Although that had been one of her darkest times, Nicci still smiled at the memory.
Nathan also stared down toward the crowded city, lost in his own memories. He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “We both left such a mark on Tanimura, dear Sorceress, they might not welcome us back.”
His gaze was drawn toward the southern end of the peninsula and a large island just off the coast. Halsband Island had once been connected to the mainland by a prominent stone bridge that allowed visitors, merchants, scholars, and Sisters of the Light to pass directly to the Palace of the Prophets. The mammoth edifice had stood for millennia, a place where gifted males were imprisoned and taught. The palace had been shielded in numerous ways, woven with a spell that prevented its inhabitants from aging … but Nathan had triggered a light web, bringing down the entire imposing palace so that its magical archives could not fall into Jagang’s hands.
Halsband Island looked like a wasteland now, the palace vaporized. From what Nicci could tell, even after six years no hardy souls had returned to claim the devastated land for their own.