Siege of Stone

by Terry Goodkind

  The heart hounds kept coming.

  Nicci stirred in her sleep in the barracks room, but her thoughts stayed with the panther. The big cat’s instincts told her to do what any fleeing animal would do, but if she did that, Nicci knew, she would lose.

  Listen to me, sister panther, Nicci thought. The heart hounds will run you down. You can’t fight both of them. They will wait until you are exhausted and weak.

  She felt Mrra growl as she ran. The grassy slope opened up, and Mrra bounded along unhindered, but the heart hounds picked up speed, too.

  You’ve got to do the unexpected, Nicci told her. You have to fight them anyway, so fight on your terms. Our terms. Now! Turn and fight!

  The panther spun and, instead of leaping away, used all the power of her hind legs to launch herself into the oncoming beast like a battering ram of claws and fur. Mrra struck just beneath the jaw of the slavering monster, slammed into its barrel chest. Her claws raked along the curved lines of its ribs. Using the heart hound’s own momentum, she ripped open the tan fur, gouged into bone, and split the creature’s chest. As it crashed down upon her, she clamped her long fangs around its throat, bit down hard, and pulled back. Blood sprayed.

  The heart hound collapsed, gurgling, unable to make much sound now that its throat was destroyed. Mrra’s instinct was to stay with her victim, rip open the belly and dig out the entrails, but the monster was already as good as dead. Nicci knew that.

  Instead, Mrra yanked herself free as the heart hound twitched and bled, impotently snapping its long yellow teeth.

  The second beast skidded past, taken by surprise, and overshot its quarry even as Mrra brought down the first victim. As the other monster scrambled to turn, Mrra abandoned the bleeding carcass and, using all her remaining energy, sprang into the air to land on the second beast’s back. The heart hound was already off balance from turning so abruptly in its full-hearted charge. Mrra’s weight knocked it down on the grassy ground, and the beast struck out with its paws, trying to throw her off.

  But Nicci and Mrra bit down hard, using the big cat’s powerful jaws to crunch the back of the heart hound’s neck, biting hard enough to sever its spinal cord. With one blow, one deep bite, the second heart hound was paralyzed. When it collapsed, the lower half of its body couldn’t even twitch. A steaming puddle of urine pooled out from between its hind legs. In an instant, both enemies were dead.

  Mrra stepped back, covered in blood. She padded away from the two dying beasts, her senses still alert. She pricked her ears and listened to the night, making sure there were no other heart hounds howling in the hills.

  Even from her bed in the Tanimura barracks, Nicci tasted the hot iron blood in her mouth, felt her pulse pounding from the chase. She and her sister panther had defeated these two creatures that shouldn’t have been here at all. Had someone meddled with the veil after Richard’s star shift? How could these monsters have escaped from the outskirts of the underworld?

  Nicci broke the spell bond, letting Mrra return to satisfy herself with ripping the heart hounds to shreds. Nicci drifted back into her own sleep, but it was far more troubled than before.

  CHAPTER 55

  The lens to the underworld had faded to misty green opacity, but rumors spread throughout the camp. General Utros withdrew into his headquarters, lost in thoughts and questions. He felt the weight of history, responsibility, and his iron-hard betrayal.

  The ancient army continued its daily routine, maintaining the siege. Scouts worked their way through the hills and forests, mapping the landscape and marking towns to be raided or conquered. They delivered summaries to First Commander Enoch, who kept the information to himself until such time as the general requested it.

  Even the sorceresses left Utros to his intense concentration. Ava and Ruva had always given him advice, offered ideas, but now he brooded in his headquarters, so deep in thought he seemed to have become a statue again. He sat with shoulders hunched on the sturdy wooden bench, leaning close to the smoldering brazier. Smoke curled around his scarred face, fumes burned his eyes and nose. Without interrupting his thoughts, the twins added various substances, black mineral powders that stung when he inhaled, but made him light-headed. Utros sat in silence, feeling his heart torn, his mind separated into opposing vows, obligations, and desires.

  Loyalty is stronger than love.

  But, he loved Majel! He still heard her voice, remembered her touch, though he had seen her face and knew what Iron Fang had done to her, and that was the emperor Utros had sworn to obey! Yet, Majel had broken her sacred vow, too, just as he had. Not only had the general torn his loyalty to shreds, he had also stolen the love of his leader’s wife. What punishment was too great for that?

  Utros hunched over the brazier smoke, closed his eyes, and pressed sharp fingernails against his face, feeling the scar from the dragon burn. Maybe he deserved to be flayed alive, too. What if Emperor Kurgan demanded that of him?

  Loyalty is stronger than love.

  He sat up, reaching a firm decision, a tactical decision. He was General Utros. That was why Iron Fang considered him so important, and that was why he needed to succeed here at Ildakar. It was the only way he could atone for his great betrayal.

  The two sorceresses sat in silence on the other side of the room, so close to each other that their pale bodies touched, the matching scars on their thighs close, as when they had been fused as children. Though the twins had been cut apart, their hearts, their thoughts, and their magic still connected them.

  When he looked up at the sisters with a decision clear on his face, Ava and Ruva could see that their beloved general had come back to them. His cool and rational military mind had returned.

  “Our emperor made his wishes clear,” he said. “You heard him speak from beyond the veil. My charge, our charge, is still to bring down Ildakar. Our entire army is duty-bound to make that happen.” The two women sat motionless, meeting his flinty glare. “Iron Fang commanded me to find a way to summon a dragon. For that, I will need your help.”

  * * *

  General Utros respected magic, treated it as one would handle a poisonous viper, and he let Ava and Ruva do their work. The twins spoke in whispers, sharing ideas, finishing each other’s sentences. Moving in eerie synchronicity, they talked about how to find a dragon.

  Even fifteen centuries ago, the majestic and terrifying beasts had been extremely rare. On the march toward Ildakar, he had sought out a silver dragon, because such dragons were the most warlike, the most destructive in battle. Silver dragons were also the most difficult to control. Finally, they had succeeded in capturing one of the creatures, a small one, but still a nightmare of metallic scales and fangs, belching fire and acid. Its huge wings could knock down tents and create a wind strong enough to sweep aside a cavalry charge. After they had chained the monster, Utros realized he could never tame it, not with time, nor magic.

  The silver dragon had chewed through its chains and burst out of its confinement. In a vengeful fury, the creature had burned hundreds of his soldiers, scorching them to ash, before ripping up the camp. Utros had tried to challenge the dragon himself and force it back into captivity, and as a result the beast had burned the side of his face with a splash of its acid fire.

  Now he reached up and ran his fingers across the healed scar that covered his cheek. Emperor Kurgan had commanded him to capture a dragon again.

  Ava and Ruva came to him as he stood outside, contemplating the large milky lens to the underworld and dreading his next conversation with Majel or Kurgan. He turned to acknowledge them. “We found a way, beloved Utros,” Ava said, her voice faltering. “We can summon a dragon.”

  Ruva smiled shyly. “It will be painful and dangerous.”

  His heart felt blank and empty. “As I expected, but pain and danger are our charge.”

  The two women stepped close like lovers awaiting an embrace. Ava reached up to stroke his scarred cheek. “In order to find a dragon, we need a connection to dragons. They are di
stant and rare. The nearest one may be far, far away.”

  Ruva said, “But you are already connected with dragons, beloved Utros. When the dragon fire burned you and left the scar, it also left part of its essence in you. Dragons are bound to the heart of the world itself, intertwined with magic.” She also touched the scar, next to her sister’s fingers. “Part of that lingers here on your face. Your skin bears the faint residue of dragon fire, and dragon fire is connected to dragons themselves.”

  Ava added, “We can use that residue to send a summons that no dragon could resist, if any dragons remain in this land.”

  Ruva’s eyes sparkled with tears. “We have everything we need, General, if you are willing to endure the sacrifice.”

  “Emperor Kurgan commanded me. I will sacrifice whatever is needed.”

  The sorceresses placed their delicate fingertips on his waxy flesh. “All we need is your skin, beloved Utros.”

  * * *

  Inside the dark wooden structure, the two women built the brazier fires high. They had sealed the doors and windows so that not even First Commander Enoch could see what was happening, nor would any of the soldiers hear his screams.

  With the lingering effects of the stone spell, the sensitive nerves on his face were dulled, but not numb enough. He felt the searing pain when the two sorceresses used a razor-edged knife to slice away the scarred half of his face.

  He braced himself, sitting in the sturdy chair built out of logs lashed together, but as he clenched the arms, the thick logs creaked. His wrists had been tied to the chair, his chest also strapped to the back, rendering him immobile. He felt as if he might explode from the bonds.

  “Just a few moments more,” Ava said, being as gentle as she could.

  “We are so sorry,” Ruva whispered as the sharp dagger tip traced a deep cut under his eye, around his cheekbone, then over to his ear. She peeled down ever so delicately, while Ava tugged on the flap of waxy skin with another knife, pulling his cheek and half of his face away.

  Utros groaned deep in his chest and realized that this was what Majel had endured, only her punishment had been far worse. Iron Fang had not only stripped one cheek, but all of her face, then her neck, breasts, back, and thighs, all the skin on her body. Majel had endured that, and she had still been alive when he fed her body to flesh beetles. Utros knew he could tolerate this smaller sacrifice.

  Loyalty is stronger than love.

  The sorceresses had a shallow basin filled with water next to the brazier. When they finally succeeded in cutting off all the skin that had been marked by dragon fire, they took the uneven scrap of flesh, held it up like part of a mask, and dropped it into the basin, gently washing it, letting the blood infuse the water.

  “That is the first step, beloved Utros,” Ava said.

  When the skin was clean and the water tinted red, Ruva removed the thin scrap of his cheek and tossed it into the brazier, where it burned. Ava added crystalline powders that made the fires blaze brighter, consuming the scrap of skin. It shriveled and blackened like leather.

  Using her gift, Ruva damped the flames so she could remove the charred skin. “Now it is ready,” she said, dropping the remnants back into the basin with the blood water.

  The burned skin crumbled, the ashes dissolving, and the two women peered down into the basin, swirling the water with their fingertips. They began to chant. The small chamber was filled with magic, pulsing and sparkling, as they sent out their implacable call to summon a dragon.

  CHAPTER 56

  In the duma chamber, while Quentin reviewed lists of names that his representatives had gathered from among the population, Nathan and Elsa worked side by side, sharing ideas in low voices. They had not yet openly raised the suggestion of the Ixax warriors to the duma.

  Though the hour was late, Lani also joined them, her skin pale and hard. Nathan knew little about her, but she had challenged Thora for her rule, and that made Lani a decent person, as far as he was concerned.

  Without explaining her actions, Lani walked up to the stone table and picked up the pitcher of water left for the duma members. Nathan looked up, curious. “I thought you didn’t need to drink or eat?”

  Lani looked down into the water in the pitcher. “This is a weapon. It’s my own magic.”

  “I remember your scrying magic.” Elsa smiled and turned to Nathan. “It is similar to my transference magic, but Lani has an affinity for water. She can call on it, use it as a conduit, like the aqueducts beneath Ildakar.”

  “That gift comes from within me. My blood is infused with it.” Lani caressed the curve of the pitcher. “Renn and I would share the things we read in obscure texts, and we discovered many forgotten legends and spells. Thora didn’t much care about our studies. She considered herself at the pinnacle of her strength and did not need to learn anything else.”

  “One should always keep learning,” Nathan said. “Even when I was stuck in the Palace of the Prophets for a thousand years, I continued to read and study.” He stroked his chin. “Actually, my reasons weren’t entirely altruistic. I was hoping to discover a way to escape my prison, so I could live my own life.”

  “I am glad you finally succeeded, Nathan,” Elsa said. “I rather like having you here.”

  “I can help Ildakar, now that I have the heart of a wizard again.”

  “But is your gift powerful enough to stop General Utros?” Lani asked.

  “Not alone, of course.” He self-consciously brushed the front of his wizard’s robes. “But surely with everyone joining their magic, we can defeat an old general and a half-petrified army.”

  “Only if we are aware of what the enemy is doing.” Lani turned with the pitcher and surprised them by pouring the water in a spreading pool onto the blue marble.

  Nathan yanked his feet up so the water wouldn’t splash on his boots. At the opposite table, Quentin looked up from his list of names. He grumbled impatiently, then went back to his work.

  Lani knelt next to the spreading pool on the polished floor. “I can use scrying magic to spy on our enemy. I can see what Utros is doing, if he has open water nearby.” She sighed. “I wish Renn were here. He always gave me strength, but I will do it without him.” She looked up and met Elsa’s eyes. “I’ll do it for him.”

  “He will return someday,” Elsa said.

  Lani held her hands over the water and called upon her gift, making images appear. Thora had used the same magic, scrying through the water basins in Ildakar as an illicit way to spy on her own people. “General Utros will not suspect. I just need to find water, close to him.…”

  Lani closed her eyes, holding her chalk-white hands above the surface of the pool. She pulled on her gift and pressed her hands lower, until with the faintest of touches, her fingers met the still surface. The images sharpened, and she opened her eyes again.

  Curious, Nathan could see shadows forming, and he recognized the place where he and Nicci had spoken to the general in their parley session. “That is his headquarters.”

  Lani narrowed her eyes. “This is what Utros is doing right now, what he is saying, what he is seeing. I am looking through a water basin in his quarters.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, and her expression grew more intent.

  The rippling images stilled, and the pool looked like a mirror on the floor. Through the water, Nathan saw Ava and Ruva, their heads shaved, their white skin painted with cryptic swirls and designs. The vision was tinged red, as if seen through stained glass.

  General Utros loomed closer as the two sorceresses chanted, pulled with their own magic. Sitting close to the water on the floor, Lani gasped. She seemed frozen, but could not break the vision. She struggled, and the images grew more potent, more startling.

  Utros had lost half of his face. Someone had cut the entire burn scar from his cheek, his mouth, beneath his eye. The wound was fresh and raw, dripping blood.

  The sorceresses continued their chant, calling in an ancient tongue, then spoke to the general. “We are summonin
g the dragon. He must come.”

  Nathan and Elsa both recoiled in astonishment. “Dear spirits, how can they call a dragon?”

  When Lani gasped again, the two sorceresses suddenly looked at the water, like eagles spotting a rabbit on the ground. Lani yanked her hands back from the pool, trying to break the scrying spell, but Ava and Ruva leaned closer on their side, throwing harsh magic into the water and following Lani’s connection back to her.

  “No!” The water on the blue marble floor roiled like soup in a cauldron. The scrying images shattered, but the water continued to writhe, pulling itself together. The liquid rose up in a translucent frothing column and flung itself at Lani’s face. She lifted her hands, clawing at the water, which covered her like a smothering sheet.

  Nathan and Elsa leaped over the stone table, running to help her. Quentin stood up from his books, staring in disbelief.

  Lani thrashed, but could not tear away the water that covered her face, pushing into her mouth, her nose. She couldn’t breathe, and the water forced itself inside her.

  “She’s drowning!” Nathan said. “We have to help her!”

  Elsa scribbled a transference rune, tried to move the water. It pulled and squirmed like a jellyfish on Lani’s face, pressing into her nose, her eyes. Lani couldn’t breathe, but she fought back.

  Nathan manipulated the air, creating a vacuum to suck the water away, but Ava and Ruva combined their gift and counterattacked. He couldn’t react swiftly enough.

  The water pressed into Lani’s sinuses, into her throat. Its force broke her jaw, ruptured her windpipe, shattered her cheekbones from the inside, and the smothering water filled her, flooding her head, her lungs.

  Even as Nathan and Elsa frantically tried to help, Lani collapsed to the marble tiles. The floor was now dry, because all the water was within her. The visions were gone.

  The sorceress lay dead, her face misshapen and flaccid now that all the bones that held her features had been pulverized. Her stiff skin folded in on itself, and in an evil irony, all the water flowed back out of her nose and mouth, running across the floor.