“It is a well-deserved rest.” Nathan looked down at the last page. “Writing an objective and thorough chronicle is a different kind of battle, but just as hard. I’m afraid I didn’t have enough paper.” He closed the book.
Nicci’s lips tightened in a smile. “I’m certain you found room to include your own exploits.”
“Oh, not all of them. Dear spirits, that would take an entire library.”
She didn’t react to his humor. “When you tell your stories in taverns and banquets, I’m sure you will provide excruciating detail.”
“I am wounded by your attitude.” Placing a palm to his chest, Nathan felt the lumpy scar and his steady heartbeat, and realized that it truly did feel like his heart after all. The heart of a wizard.
Mrra let out a low growl and turned back toward the shore, her tail thrashing. Nicci spun, suddenly wary.
An unexpected form stepped out onto the pier, a slender woman in a gray shift that clung tightly to her body. Her skin was pale, her face gaunt to the point of being cadaverous. Her scalp was a tangle of red locks like ropy twisted snakes, and she smiled at them with unnatural black lips. She strolled forward, ominous, confident as if no one else existed except for the three of them. At her side walked a strange creature with spotted russet fur, pointed ears, and a long muzzle—not a cat, not a wolf, but some other species entirely. Mrra bristled and prepared to protect her sister panther.
Nathan felt a chill. “Dear spirits! It’s Red.”
The witch woman glided up to them. Nathan couldn’t imagine how she had passed through the hills and the entire city of Tanimura without causing an uproar. He climbed to his feet and stood at the end of the dock, still clutching the life book.
Nicci was instantly defensive. “I had hoped never to see you again.”
The witch woman’s laughter was a musical sound, but not music Nathan wanted to hear. “Our hopes are not always rewarded.” She cast an offhand glance back at the city. “That battle left enough skulls and bodies to properly decorate Tanimura. It’s a shame you feel the need to clean them all up.” Red’s forested hills and the sheltered glen of her cottage were strewn with the bones of those who had died when they came to seek the witch woman’s services.
“It was only as much death as we needed to assure victory,” Nicci said.
Hunter, the strange russet animal at her side, sat on his haunches and stared at Mrra, eye-to-eye. The sand panther’s whiskers twitched.
Red turned to Nathan, as if she expected him to know why she had come. “You have something for me.” It was not a question. “I doubted you would return to the Dark Lands and deliver your life book to me, so I came in person. You should have known that’s what I expected.” Her black lips formed a smile.
Nathan was surprised. “I only finished writing no more than a few minutes ago. How did you know?”
“I’m a witch woman. I foresee things. You read the first lines in your book.”
Nathan turned to the words that had been inscribed there even before Red gave the book to him:
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.
He sniffed. “Those words drove us across the Old World and guided me where I needed to go. You did indeed set many things in motion by writing that.” He pursed his lips. “Prophecy is not usually so clear and direct.”
Red let out a full-throated laugh. “Nathan Rahl, you know better than anyone! That was no prophecy, no premonition. It was just an idea, and you followed it however you wished, interpreted the words the way you wanted. You set your own events in motion.” She extended her hands, waiting for him to hand her the book. “I can’t wait to read the entire chronicle.”
Nathan reeled from what she had just said. He had followed those words on a quest to restore his gift. Because of what Red had written, he, Nicci, and Bannon had traveled over Kol Adair and all the way to Ildakar. Those words had driven them so far, but had he just been chasing a mirage?
No, not a mirage, he realized. His own destiny. As a former prophet, Nathan Rahl knew that people would do what they were meant to do, no matter what words were written. He had made his own fate.
Red’s furry companion sniffed Mrra. Both animals remained ready to pounce, but Nicci and the witch woman kept them under control.
When Nathan surrendered the life book to her, he felt a profound sense of loss, as if a part of his story had ended. Did this mean his adventures were over now? That he would just retire in Tanimura? He certainly didn’t intend to do that.
A moment later Red produced another book, though he had not noticed her carrying anything. She held out a fresh volume bound in pale doeskin. He accepted it in wonder and opened it to find the volume full of blank pages.
The witch woman said, “It took you a thousand years to fill the first book and barely a year for the second. I wonder when you will make me come back and retrieve this volume. That is up to you.”
Without further farewell, Red walked back down the creaking dock with her shaggy pet following. Nathan ran his thumb along the smooth leather of his new life book and pressed it close to his chest.
At the edge of the thick Hagen Woods, the pines and oaks created dense shadows. Nicci could still smell blood from the recent battle. This place carried so much dark history, but now it was nothing more than a normal forest. The hush that had hung over the tangled branches was replaced by birdsong.
Mrra peered into the forest with golden eyes. The underbrush rustled, and muscular feline forms glided toward them, the survivors of the sand panther pride that Mrra had led overland to fight against General Utros.
Nicci stroked Mrra’s head, scratched behind her ears, and the panther purred contentedly. Her pelt was covered with branded symbols from Ildakar, but Mrra was the only member of her new pride to bear such markings. The other big cats had roamed the wild all their lives, and Nicci knew that was what she wanted.
Mrra twitched her tail and stared into the forest, but she refused to leave her sister panther. Nicci wrapped her arms around Mrra’s neck, pulling the cat close. She held tight and stroked her fur for a long moment. “Thank you, my loyal companion. Run with your pride. You deserve it.”
Mrra let out a rumble in her chest, and Nicci felt the vibrations against her cheek as she held more tightly. “Our spell bond will never be broken. I will always be your sister panther.” She felt a thickening in her throat as she swallowed hard and continued. “But this is your pride. Roam the world with them, live your life, hunt, find a mate, have cubs of your own … and be free. That is all I ask of you. I will let you know if ever I need your help. Thank you for the new sisters and brothers you have shared with me.” Mrra looked up with golden feline eyes, and Nicci stroked the cat’s head again. “Go!”
Mrra let out a roar and turned to the other cats waiting in the forest. She bounded into the tree shadows until Nicci could no longer see her, but she would always feel the sand panther in her heart.
CHAPTER 88
The sword’s edge had been sharpened to a thin steel razor, erasing the nicks and notches from all the blows Bannon had struck during the fight.
“Good as new,” said Mandon, the swordsmith. “After you’ve killed a hundred more enemies, come back to me and I’ll fix it again.”
Bannon was pleased with the ornate blade and doubly pleased to know that the swordsmith remembered selling him Sturdy, so long ago. “That was my first sword and a good one. I wish I still had it.” Pushing back the sadness in his voice, he turned Nathan’s fine weapon from side to side, watching how sunlight flowed like liquid down the polished steel. “But this one will do.”