"And you, Jin'Sai," the boy said, interrupting the wizard. "I see your blood at work there. Did you not know that a union between your blood and hers would result in such a tragedy? Did your wizards not inform you of this? The warning was clearly illustrated in the Scrolls of the Ancients. Is this why you have come to me-to try to save the life of this woman?"
"Yes," Tristan answered. "But we have other reasons for searching you out, as well. The Orb of the Vigors has been wounded and it is bleeding. It wreaks havoc across the land. The Enseterat-my half brother-is returning to Eutracia to oversee its death throes. The Tome states that only the Jin'Sai or the Jin'Saiou might be able to heal the orb, but only after being granted the proper Forestallment. That Forestallment can supposedly be found in the scrolls, but we had no time to search them out. So we chose to find you instead."
"Tristan, my love…" Celeste suddenly whispered.
Finally overcome with weakness, she fainted. Struggling against the pain in his shoulder, Tristan caught her and he lifted her into his arms.
Wigg rushed over. Lifting one of her eyelids, he looked into her eye. What he saw there turned his face ashen. He shook his head.
"She's nearly gone," he breathed.
As tears of desperation welled up in Tristan's eyes, he looked at the boy.
"Can you help us?" he pleaded.
The boy nodded. "You were right to search me out, Jin'Sai," he said.
"I will do what I can. I know that you love her. But if the Enseterat has been loosed upon the world, the task before us has suddenly become far greater than the saving of a single life, no matter how dear she may be to you. Follow me."
With Celeste in his arms and Wigg by his side, Tristan followed the boy down one of the endless hallways.
CHAPTER LXXVI
The outskirts of Tammerland were in flames, and Shailiha, Tyranny, Adrian, and Duvessa watched, aghast, from the Minion litter that hovered in the smoky, stinking air. Eight stout warriors bore their litter and another fifty flew guard alongside.
When the first Minion reports of the fires had come in, Faegan had ordered the women to go and investigate. Still consumed by their research, he and Jessamay remained ensconced in the Redoubt. But this time the women did not argue when Faegan told them that he and the sorceress must stay behind.
The black, stinking mass that had polluted the Sippora had finally reached the outskirts of the city and the damage it was causing was extraordinary.
For centuries, the Sippora had wound though the heart of the city the same way a major artery traversed the human body-and it was just as important. Although not suitable for drinking, its water was essential for washing, for use in many of Tammerland's hundreds of trades, and for the transportation of goods. Homes and businesses lined both sides of its banks. Many of the structures were wood. Most were old and dried out. It often seemed that little more than a stiff wind would send them tumbling into the water. They were simply no match for the superheated "waters" of the polluted Sippora.
Anyone foolish enough to try to save his or her home or business was quickly consumed. Scorched bodies lay at contorted angles on the banks; survivors screamed and ran for their lives. Even from where they hovered above the holocaust, Faegan's observers could smell the sickly sweet odor of burning flesh-both animal and human.
Shailiha lowered her head and closed her eyes. Tyranny put one arm around her shoulder. Tristan, Wigg, where are you? the princess found herself wondering. We need you now!
"Look there!" Adrian shouted. She pointed northeast, toward the heart of the city. Shailiha shifted her gaze to peer through the drifting smoke.
A crushing mass of humanity was fleeing the firestorm. Although some moved north or south to avoid the river altogether, the vast majority were running down the streets and byways alongside the river, carrying as many personal effects as they could bear.
But that will only take them deeper into the city and make things worse! Shailiha realized. Can't they see that? What in the name of the Afterlife do they think they're doing?
And then she understood. The terrified citizens were struggling to get to the royal palace, where they thought they might find safety, medical care, and food.
Shailiha's blood ran cold. The palace and its grounds were still crowded with the wounded who had first sought sanctuary from the rampaging Orb of the Vigors. She doubted that many more would fit-certainly not as many as were approaching its gates.
Shailiha looked over at the other women to see their sad faces turned toward hers-as though she might have some solution simply because she was of the royal house. She thought she understood now how Wigg and Faegan felt every time they were turned to for answers simply because they were wizards.
Wulfgar started this all, she thought. But now we are doing these things to ourselves. Can't the people down there see that? What is to become of us?
Leaning out of the litter, Shailiha caught the attention of the warrior commanding her group. "Take us back to the palace!" she shouted. "And hurry!"
With a nod, the warrior barked out orders and the litter turned for home.
"Drink this," Abbey said.
She handed the heady concoction to Jessamay, who was again seated in the familiar chair, surrounded by Faegan's azure wizard's warp. He relaxed the warp just enough for her to use her hands. She took the silver goblet.
A dense, greenish fog rose up and brimmed over the cup's lip to settle on the nearby floor and thread its way around Jessamay's feet. She glanced at the cup with no small degree of trepidation.
"How is it different this time?" she asked.
Abbey smiled. "We have added ground root of cat's claw, and a touch of widow-winkle," she answered. "It is the combination of the two that produces the sage fog. We have further refined the calculations taken from Failee's grimoire, and they led us to this particular combination of herbs." Her face became more serious. "How are you feeling? Are you sure that you have enough strength for another try?"
"Indeed," Faegan added from his chair on wheels. "I would prefer not to wait, but we could pause for a few hours if you wish."
Jessamay shook her head. "Time is precious," she answered. "You have both said so yourselves. And you can be assured that Wulfgar isn't resting as he travels toward the pass in the mountains. No, we must keep trying, no matter the cost."
It was evening in Eutracia, and Faegan and Jessamay had been at their work the entire day. Abbey had joined them, to contribute her knowledge of herbs. Everyone in the room was close to exhaustion, especially the sorceress.
Faegan felt sure that they were getting close to reversing Failee's work and moving the lean of Jessamay's blood signature back toward the right. They had made dozens of attempts, each bringing them a little closer to their goal, but it was maddeningly slow work.
Faegan also knew that it might take far longer to achieve their goal than they could afford-especially if Shailiha's impending report was as bad as he feared it might be. Worse yet, even if they succeeded in their efforts, it was imperative that Wigg and Tristan return home in time to help implement the rest of the plan.
He looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes, willing Wigg and Tristan to succeed. Without them, and without the prince's blood returned to its natural state, the Vigors would be doomed. He looked back at Jessamay.
"Very well, then," he said. "Are you ready?"
Taking a deep breath, Jessamay nodded.
"Begin," he said.
As Abbey watched, Jessamay drank the potion and Faegan applied his most recent calculations upon her. At first the wizard could discern no difference from his previous attempts. But then things started to change.
Jessamay's eyes rolled back up into her head, and she convulsed with such force that Faegan found it necessary to enhance his warp. As Jessamay screamed in pain, her chair rose into the air. Despite his best efforts, Faegan found that he could no longer control it. As if it suddenly had a will of its own, the chair took the sorceress higher and flew manically around the room.