"Amazing," Wigg said. "But why would Failee want to perfect such a gift?"
"Think of the tactical advantage," Jessamay said. "By simply looking into someone's eyes, you could quickly discern whether he or she was of the Vigors or of the Vagaries. If we had had that skill during the war, Failee's spies would have been of no use to her."
Nodding, Wigg closed his eyes. "Of course," he whispered. "But what does all of this have to do with my daughter?"
"When Celeste held me, she was near enough for me to look deeply into her eyes. She is blessed with time enchantments, is she not?"
Wigg nodded. "She is nearly as old as you and me."
"Her blood signature is eroding," Jessamay said. "I believe it has had recent union with blood far stronger than hers, blood that must have been tainted by the craft. It is overcoming her signature and slowly destroying it. At least one-third of it has already vanished. The tainted blood has left minute traces of azure in its wake. And although she may not have told you, Celeste is no doubt weaker and fatigued. If you don't believe me, you need only examine her blood signature yourself to know that I am right."
She took her old ally by the hand. "In an endowed person without time enchantments, this would simply result in his or her loss of the craft," Jessamay said. "But in Celeste's case-"
"As her blood signature dies, so will her time enchantments," Wigg acknowledged. He covered his face with his hands again. "As they do, she will become dust upon the wind."
Beside himself with pain, he looked into Jessamay's eyes. "Is there any way to save her?"
Jessamay shook her head. "I do not know," she answered. "Such intricacies of the craft are beyond my knowledge. I can only tell you what I see. But it would seem that if whatever caused this could be made whole again-untainted, as it were-and united with her blood once more, there might be a chance. But your daughter's time is running short."
Wigg stood upon shaking legs. Looking out but seeing nothing, he shuffled over to the balcony doors.
He knew what had polluted his daughter's blood-and what had caused the azure glow that surrounded her after she and Tristan had made love. Somehow, Tristan's altered blood, carried into her with his seed, had been absorbed into her body. And now that tainted blood was killing her.
Wigg closed his eyes. In the end, it didn't matter whether my daughter carried Tristan's child or not, he thought.
But then he was struck by a glimmer of hope. If Tristan's blood could be restored to its original state and he again had union with Celeste, perhaps the effects might be reversed, and she could be saved.
But the secret to Tristan's blood remained as elusive as ever. Through an innocent act of love, the Jin'Sai had unknowingly begun the death of not only the love of his life, but his mentor's only child. And the First Wizard felt powerless to stop it.
As Wigg looked out over the balcony, a cool breeze caressed his face. Birds sang. My only child is dying before my eyes, he thought. Yet outside the birds are singing.
In a fit of rage, Wigg fell to his knees, raised his face to the sky, and screamed at the heavens.
CHAPTER XL
K'jarr's endurance was ebbing. if he continued the search for the Citadel much longer, his war party would not be able to make it back to the Reprise. Still, his sense of duty to the Jin'Sai made him press on.
It was early evening, and the three moons were out. The moonlight gave the warriors a better view, but the wind was against them and the sky was partly cloudy, making it difficult to survey the ocean below.
K'jarr had taken his six warriors as high as he dared, nearly starving their lungs of air. He was about to order them to descend a bit when he saw flickering lights in the distance and finally got his first glimpse of the Citadel.
K'jarr took a quick breath. He had never seen such an imposing structure. Even the royal palace in Tammerland was no match for this.
The island fortress of dark gray stone rose straight up out of living rock. The irregularly shaped shoreline held a deep port, and at the island's eastern end he thought he could see herds of corralled livestock. The Citadel's numerous towers rose majestically into the sky, their curved walls dotted with elaborate stained glass windows and connected by interlacing bridges and catwalks. As the magenta moonlight and the fortress' torches conspired to reveal the Citadel's secrets, K'jarr again considered his plan.
He knew that the easiest way to capture a demonslaver would be to snatch one up from a patrolling vessel, rather than from the relative security of the island. He and his warriors would circle as long as possible, and with any luck be able to single out a patrolling frigate. They would wait aloft until her demonslaver crew had gone below decks, leaving only a few night sentries topside. Then he and another warrior would swoop down and silently scoop up one of the guards.
But as K'jarr surveyed the island's port, his heart sank. It seemed that every demonslaver frigate was at anchor there, just off the shore. As he scanned the ocean surrounding the island, he could find no patrolling ships.
He immediately became suspicious. He turned to look at his six warriors and, waving them onward, led them in a wide, banking curve toward the far end of the island.
It was there, just off the northern coast, that K'jarr and his party finally saw Wulfgar's seven Black Ships.
The ships were easily four or five times the size of the largest vessels they had ever seen. The sea wind filled their dark sails to the straining point. As the menacing warships bounded through the waves, K'jarr could make out hundreds of chalky-skinned demonslavers swarming over their decks. Then suddenly, the ships all came about and sailed back in the opposite direction.
K'jarr knew that Tyranny's lone flagship, faced with such enemy ships, would have no choice but to cut and run. Despite the size and weight of these monstrous black vessels, he doubted that even the Reprise could outdistance them.
The demonslaver crews repeated their turning maneuvers several more times. It was almost as if they were preparing for something, K'jarr thought. Then the warrior understood: The ships were conducting trials of some sort. And once their master was satisfied, these warships would be loosed upon Eutracia.
K'jarr looked quickly toward the heavens. He knew that if he and his group stayed in any one part of the sky too long, the moonlight might reveal them. Finding a suitable cloud, he waved his warriors a bit higher. The fluffy cumulus was just what they needed. It was slowly heading northwest, and soon it would be directly over the fleet.
The Minions all came to hide in the base of the cloud. Peering through the light layer of mist, they watched the warships with awe.
Aboard the lead vessel K'jarr saw what appeared to be a black skeleton standing arrogantly in the prow. The skeleton was dressed in some sort of ragged military uniform. A torn, black cape hung down its back, twirling in the wind.
Then K'jarr blinked, and the skeleton was gone. K'jarr rubbed his eyes then looked again. The bizarre form did not reappear. Surely the moonlight was playing tricks on him.
Suddenly, the seven Black Ships formed a straight battle line in the sea. As the lead ship gained slightly on the others, an azure glow surrounded her, and K'jarr knew that the craft was in play. With no help from any of her crew, each of her massive sails began to furl itself until it was tightly wound and tied off against a spar. Without aid of the wind, the ship's bow raised high, then plunged mightily back down into the sea. K'jarr expected her bow to rise up again, but it didn't.