Running ahead of her brother, Shailiha grabbed Wigg up in a great bear hug and kissed him on the cheek. As Wigg’s face reddened, Faegan and Abbey chuckled at the First Wizard’s expense.
“Well done!” the princess shouted. Soon Tristan and the other Conclave members joined them.
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Tristan said. “Well done indeed.” He looked up to see the Ephyra, the Illendium, and the Cavalon still hovering in the sky.
“But this is no time to rest on your laurels,” he added with a smile. “There’s still work to be done.”
Tristan turned to look at Traax. “Have your warriors start loading the Tammerland,” he ordered. “Given how many are available to do the job, it shouldn’t take long.”
Traax clicked his boot heels together and hurried off to carry out his orders.
Faegan turned to look at Wigg. “Shall we go for another ride?” he asked.
Wigg pursed his lips and placed his hands into the opposing sleeves of his gray robe. “And once we have cradled all three ships?” he asked. “Do you still intend to try to shrink the Tammerland?”
“But of course, my dear fellow!” Faegan exclaimed. The crippled wizard’s mischievous smile reappeared. “Only he who attempts the ridiculous can ever achieve the impossible! Follow me!”
Without further ado Faegan levitated his chair high over the crowd to soar back to the litter. Wigg took the jar from Abbey, then wended his way through the crowd to join him. Soon they were again soaring through the sky to approach the Ephyra.
Two hours later all four ships lay safely nestled in their new cradles. Each time, the process went more smoothly. Tyranny and Scars came to stand beside Tristan and Shailiha. Now that the Tammerland had been loaded, the time for the more complex experiment had come. The Conclave privateer looked more worried than ever. Touching Tristan on one arm, she bade him walk with her.
“What is it?” he asked, as they left the crowd to stride across the grass.
For a time Tyranny said nothing as she walked beside her Jin’Sai. Then she stopped and searched his face with a deeply worried expression. As though she didn’t know how to start, she sighed deeply.
“I know that I don’t own those ships,” she said. “And I will never be able to repay you for all your kindnesses. But…”
Pausing for a moment, she looked back at the massive vessels that she so loved. For her, seeing the ships cradled on dry land seemed unnatural, almost a travesty. But her seafaring nature found what the wizards planned to do next even more blasphemous. She turned back to look into Tristan’s eyes.
“Those ships are my life,” she said quietly. Then one of her wry smiles appeared, only to vanish as quickly as it came. “I suppose that my well-known sense of pride would never allow me to say that to anyone but you. Must we try this thing?”
Tristan nodded. “Although I hold the same misgivings as you, my mind is made up,” he said. “I know that it’s risky. Whenever I get these feelings, I put my trust in Wigg, Faegan, Aeolus, and Jessamay. It’s all that we can do. What will be will be. Besides, if the worst happens and the Tammerland is destroyed, we will still have the other three ships.” He gave her a crafty smile. “I’ll even make a deal with you,” he added.
“What sort of deal?” she asked skeptically.
“If the Tammerland is wrecked, I will order that another be built,” he said. “You can have a hand in outlining her specifications.”
“Agreed!” Tyranny answered.
Just then they heard the crowd roar, and they turned to look. An azure glow was settling over the mastheads and the crow’s nests of the Tammerland. Wigg and Faegan’s litter hovered above the great ship like a tiny fly badgering some great beast. Then the haunting glow moved lower, engulfing the entire ship. As Tristan watched, the breath caught in his lungs. It has begun! he thought.
Their hearts in their throats, the Jin’Sai and the privateer ran back toward the spectacle as fast as their legs could carry them.
CHAPTER XX
AS KHRISTOS LOOKED AROUND HE REALIZED THAT EVEN his lost love Failee could not have created such an exquisite place. Silver staff in hand, he turned and ordered his thousands of hungry servants to wait behind.
Walking on, he crossed the ornate portal that granted him access to the magnificent chamber waiting beyond. As he entered, he found the room to be every bit as stunning as Gracchus had told him. Several hours ago, Khristos and his servants had not only entered the Caves of the Paragon, but with Gracchus’ help had found their way into its lower regions. These were sacred places that were once known only to a privileged few. Excepting the newly arrived Viper Lord, all the other mystics who knew of this place had taken their knowledge to their graves.
After killing the Night Witches in Tanglewood, Khristos had used the remaining darkness to herd his creatures south toward Hartwick Wood. Because he assumed that more of the Jin’Sai’s flying patrols were searching for him, traveling across open ground during daylight was unacceptable. But if he could enter the forest before sunup, his forces could hide amid its dense cover as they continued toward the caves. Pushing his servants hard, he and his vipers reached the forest’s edge just as dawn arrived.
Gracchus had unexpectedly reached out to touch Khristos’ mind once more, soon after the last of the female Minions had died. The Pon Q’tar cleric told him much—including how to safely navigate the labyrinthine caves. Most of what Gracchus told him sounded too fabulous for words. Even so, Gracchus’ guidance had brought Khristos to this place of places. As his servants hissed and writhed behind him, Khristos walked deeper into the room.
Like the many chambers and passageways that led him here, this magnificent underground room had been hewn from living rock. Measuring several hundred meters in both directions, the room’s walls and floor had been clad with light green marble shot through with streaks of black. It shone beneath the light of hundreds of enchanted sconces and chandeliers lining the seemingly endless walls; each light source had been enchanted by its maker to burn forever and without smoke. Despite the great size of the room, the air was stifling and the temperature was warm, even hot.
But even more amazing were the contents of the room. On the floor, stretching as far as Khristos could see, lay countless rows of huge, broken eggshells, their thin white sides translucent in the light. Just as Gracchus had predicted, what remained of the eggs’ contents still glowed brightly with the color of the craft.
It’s true, Khristos realized. Nicholas’ spell still lives. Taking several more steps, he looked closer at the shells.
Each of the broken, slimy eggs dripped a thin azure fluid down the outside of its shell. The fluid seemed fresh—perhaps as fresh as when Nicholas had first conjured these treasures of the craft three years ago. The stinking fluid from the many eggs had pooled on the floor, adding to the fetid odor pervading the room.
Singling out one shell for examination, Khristos levitated his body so as not to step into the stinking fluid. As he glided closer, he became even more impressed by Nicholas’ gifts.
Standing about five feet high and four feet wide, the shell had been pecked open at its top, showing how the creature that had grown inside it finally emerged to join the world. Conjured by the thousands, Nicholas’ hatchlings had been instrumental in his attempt to open the Gates of Dawn and unleash the forces of the Vagaries west of the Tolenka Mountains on Eutracia. But it was not to be, for Tristan and his Minions had battled Nicholas’ winged servants high in the sky over Farplain and then issued the final blow later, near the entrance to Shadowood. Khristos hadn’t the immense knowledge required to create such wonders, nor did he need it. His only concern was that these masterpieces of the craft still existed, and that they could be used to further his purposes.
Nicholas had been Tristan’s bastard son, Gracchus had said. A product of one of the Coven sorceresses’ rape of the Jin’Sai, Nicholas had been one of the most perfect beings ever seen on this side of the world. Because of the q
uality of Nicholas’ magnificent blood, the spell used to conjure these eggs might survive for all time. So too would remain this wondrous chamber and the secrets that it contained. Secrets, Khristos began to realize, that would spell the final downfall of the Jin’Sai, his twin sister, and the pompous Conclave.
Khristos levitated a bit higher so that he could peer down into the broken shell’s depths. He smiled, for what he saw relieved his worried heart.
The bottom of the egg still held some glowing azure fluid. That was welcome, but it was only part of what he needed. The real prize lay amid the fluid still trapped in the egg’s curved bottom. It was the red umbilical cord that had nourished the hatchling while it gestated in this egg, only to become detached and abandoned when the creature broke free to join its brothers.
Khristos did not know how the nurturing process had worked. Perhaps the azure fluid had been the creatures’ food and it had once nearly filled the eggs. The cords might have been the devices that supplied the fluid to the growing embryos. But that doesn’t matter now, he realized. What counts is that they are still here and they remain usable.
He looked down the seemingly endless rows of broken eggs and he smiled. Gracchus was right, he thought. There are more than enough here to serve my needs. He turned and looked at the thousands of Blood Vipers who waited behind in a room nearly the size of the one he had just entered.
“Come, my children!” he shouted. “Come and feast on the wonders of the Vagaries that have been left behind! Take your strength for the struggle that is to follow!”
As though they were possessed of one mind, the famished creatures slithered into the massive room to gorge themselves. As they entered, Khristos hovered higher so as to not hamper their feeding frenzy.
The famished beasts ripped into the eggs with abandon. The fluid ran down their faces and arms as they chewed savagely on the cords, and Khristos smiled as he realized that his great concern had been overcome. Before making his pact with Gracchus, Khristos’ only purpose had been to exact Failee’s revenge. But to his dismay he soon realized that his lost love’s goal would be nearly impossible to achieve.
Because he had been released from the river, he immediately knew that the sorceresses had lost the war, making his duty clear. But as Khristos ransacked Eutracian towns, it became evident that finding and killing enough persons of endowed blood to sustain his throngs of followers would be nearly impossible. So that their strength would continually grow, Failee had engineered the Blood Vipers to feed only on the livers of the endowed. After they had fed on enough endowed victims, even the Jin’Sai’s Conclave would be unable to stop them.
But Khristos soon realized that Failee’s plan was hopelessly flawed. Because not enough endowed persons could be found, Khristos’s vipers had begun to starve before his eyes. Then he made his highly unexpected pact with Gracchus and everything changed. Now there was a new foe to vanquish in Failee’s name. Khristos would do everything in his power to destroy Tristan and to see that the Vagaries ruled unopposed everywhere east of the Tolenkas, just as Failee had hoped. It gladdened his heart to know that the First Mistress’s great vision might yet be fulfilled.
Now there is plenty for my servants to eat, bringing the final victory even closer, he realized. Gracchus is indeed wise. As he watched the creatures gorge, Khristos’ consciousness drifted back in time to the previous night, when Gracchus had reached out from across the Tolenkas to again touch his mind.
Sensing Gracchus’ ken, Khristos kneeled reverently in the bloody cobblestone square. Seeing their master supplicate himself, all the Blood Vipers stopped what they were doing and bowed.
“Khristos,” the Viper Lord heard Gracchus say.
“I am here,” he answered. “Command me.”
“Go to the caves,” Gracchus said. “From your experiences in the Sorceresses’ War you know where they can be found. What you do not know is that while you lingered in the river, the late son of the reigning Jin’Sai enlarged the caves, then set them to a particular purpose—one that failed but can still serve us. Because of the great power of his blood, Nicholas’ spell lives there still. Let your vipers feed on what nourished his growing hatchlings, for it will provide the same increased powers as that which you took from the bodies of the endowed. The Jin’Sai will come soon, and you must be ready for him. He must be stopped from crossing the Azure Sea at all costs. Let your vipers feed and grow stronger, for soon the greatest struggle of your life will begin.”
“I will obey,” Khristos answered.
As his mind returned to the present, Khristos let go a smile. His vipers could gorge themselves to their hearts’ content and only increase their strength. As he watched his servants feed, he found himself eagerly waiting the impending fight.
Come to me, you filthy Vigors worshipper, he thought. Let us finish what was started so long ago.
CHAPTER XXI
THE YOUNG BOY SAT ON THE FLOOR AND SHIVERED. THE usual wooden stool was not here this time. He briskly rubbed his arms, trying to warm himself as the chilliness seeped through the damp floor and crept into his bones. He did not realize that the goose bumps forming on his skin came more from his rising fear than from the cold.
As usual, he had awakened prone upon the floor. And like the times before, he could not remember who he was or where he would go after his next lesson with the robed ones. Despite his fear he decided that he didn’t care. He only wanted these sessions to end so that he might never have to come here again. Had the barren room offered up a way to kill himself, he would have done so gladly rather than face another unknown horror.
Perhaps they know that, he thought. That is why they took the stool away, thinking that I might use one of its legs to stab it into my heart and end this madness.
After a time the door creaked open to show the boy’s faceless master. As the door parted, a shaft of bright light cut through the darkness, hurting his eyes. His vision slowly adjusted, and another shiver went down his spine. Finally he looked up into the empty confines of the dark cloak hood.
If only my master would show his face, he thought. If his countenance was kind, I might not be so afraid.
The master extended one hand, then crooked a finger, beckoning the boy to stand.
“Come,” he said simply. Like the times before, his voice sounded hollow but commanding.
The boy stood on shaking legs and walked to the door. The hallway beyond looked the way he remembered, with its two rows of opposing white doors. The stark corridor held no scent, no sound, and no life except him and the tall cloaked figure standing by his side. Placing one hand atop the boy’s shoulder, the faceless master started guiding him down the seemingly endless hallway.
Soon they stopped before a door. The master pointed at the gold door handle and it levered downward. As the boy followed the master into the room, he was surprised and saddened by what he saw.
Like the hallway, the chamber was stark white and without furniture. A man stood naked in the center of the room, his hands and feet chained to four iron rings embedded in the floor. He looked to be about forty Seasons of New Life. He was filthy and emaciated, and his body bore many battle scars. His eyes seethed with hatred as he struggled against his chains.
Looking closer, the boy saw a square beeswax plaque hanging around the man’s neck from a leather string. The plaque served but one purpose, the boy knew. This man was a recently captured Shashidan who would soon be sold into slavery in Ellistium’s great forum. When the final bid was accepted and the gavel came down, the auctioneer would record the price and the buyer’s name into the plaque with a stylus. Then the slave’s new owner would lead him in chains to one of the many cashiers’ tables to arrange payment.
Suddenly another thought went through the boy’s mind. As the realization hit home he felt even colder and more alone.
How can I know such things, he wondered, when I can remember nothing else? I understand about Shashida, the slave market, and Ellistium, but I cannot even speak my own nam
e.
Before he could find his answers his master spoke again, breaking the boy’s concentration. He had been on the verge of something, he realized. Even so, he wisely decided to say nothing of his newfound revelations. The master pointed at the man chained to the floor.
“He is a worthless convict,” the master said. “Worse, he was once an enemy soldier and a magic practitioner of the worst kind. He cannot speak to you, because after he committed his crime, his tongue was cut out in punishment.”
Pausing for a moment, the master pointed at the beeswax plaque hanging from the man’s neck. “He has been marked for sale at auction,” the master said, “but with no tongue he won’t bring much.” Then the empty hood hauntingly turned toward the boy’s face.
“He killed his slave handler while on the way to the forum, dealing the poor man a gruesome death,” he added. “It is up to you to determine his fate. There is only one correct decision, and choosing wisely will be today’s lesson. It is one of the most important that you will ever learn.”
The empty hood turned toward the chained slave once more. “His future rests in your hands,” the master said. “Over the course of your life you will be forced to make many such choices, and each must be the right one. There can be no mistakes and no second-guessing, for such errors will be taken as a sign of weakness by those who would destroy you.”
Before continuing the master placed his hands into opposite robe sleeves. “The usual penalty for murder is death,” he added sternly. “But one day you will have the power to commute such sentences and show mercy, should you wish to. So what is it to be? Will you spare him and send him back to the auction block? Or will you order his demise?”
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