When Nicci had fought Sulachan’s swarms of half people, with their blank, bloodthirsty eyes, she never once felt a flicker of doubt, never saw them as anything but inhuman. But these gray-robed strangers had a different emotion in their eyes. It was not a hunger, but rather a need, a sadness.
“I don’t want to kill you. Why are you doing this?” She held her bloody dagger in one hand, her other palm outstretched as she called up more of her gift. She still had plenty of fight left within her, but she was definitely feeling weaker. She needed to rest and recuperate after the disruptive journey through the sliph.
A man tackled her from behind, but Nicci reached out to crush the man’s throat with her gift, then cast his heavy body aside. She could no longer use a velvet touch if they were attacking her. More and more of them swarmed all around her and crowded in, unafraid. Growing more angry, Nicci blasted them, hurling bodies in all directions. She had warned them many times, but it was as effective as standing on the seashore kicking at the waves.
Someone seized her wrist, making her drop the dagger. “We have to take you!” the shrouded man urged. “Stop fighting!”
Another attacker struck Nicci on the back of the head, and a red blur flashed through her skull. She heard shouts and excited whispers, terrified groans. Dozens of hands grabbed her arms, her legs, picking her up and carrying her away. Stunned, Nicci realized they were taking her toward the towering palace that loomed over the great plaza.
She struggled for consciousness, tried to reach for her gift, but her ears were ringing. With a cry, Nicci unleashed an instinctive, barely controlled surge of magic and seared two of her handlers. They stumbled back, their hands smoking, but others kept whisking her along. Nicci thrashed.
“The sun’s cleared the horizon,” someone yelled. “Hurry!”
Outside in the open square, as dawn washed away the gloom, the frenetic people disappeared like beetles scattering from beneath an overturned rock. They rushed to different buildings and ducked inside the dark interiors. As she fought to break free, she heard doors slam around the plaza, the heavy thunk of crossbars sealing them inside. The attacking mob dissipated like smoke in a heavy wind.
The grip on her arms and legs was like iron as her captors rushed her through the arched doorway into the building. She was engulfed by shadows. Forging her anger into strength, Nicci fought with renewed vigor, scratching, punching. “Don’t make me kill you!”
“Come with us!”
Feeling wet blood in her hair from where she’d been struck on the head, Nicci could no longer afford mercy. She crashed the people away with a surge of magic, and dropped to the floor in the enclosed foyer, free. Lurching to her feet, she called a more powerful weapon, a sphere of wizard’s fire, which she tossed into the crowded corridor just inside the entrance. She had to get these people away from her. Deadly flames carved through eight attackers, and she smelled roasting flesh and burning hair. The charred corpses slammed against the wall and crumpled onto the floor. Fires from burning bodies illuminated the shadows inside the palace entry.
Nicci tore herself free from the last clinging hands and turned to rush back into the open plaza, but one old woman in a gray robe scuttled forward, blocking her way. Her wrinkled face held a beseeching expression. Her words were heavily accented, but understandable. “Stop! We’re trying to save you!” Nicci’s blue eyes flared with angry questions, but the woman urged, “Don’t go out there. You’ll die. We’ll all die. Please!”
Outside, a golden sunrise lit the city of Orogang. Razor-edged shadows spread across the ground, and the distorted silhouette of the General Utros statue stretched over the flagstones. The ancient city again looked entirely abandoned. Nicci knew that if she got outside, these people couldn’t pursue her. For some reason, they were terrified of the sun.
She faced them by the door, breathing hard from the effort she had expended. “I don’t know who you are or what you mean to do. Why did you attack me?”
“We were saving you!” The old woman clutched her hands together. “It was for your own protection.”
Other drab figures staggered forward, ignoring the still-burning corpses of their fallen comrades. “The zhiss are coming! You have to stay inside.”
“We’ll kill you before we let them have you.”
“Who am I to you?” Nicci demanded. “What are you talking about?”
The old woman approached more guardedly. “Watch from the safe shadows, but we must bolt the door. If we let the zhiss have you, if we let them feed on fresh blood . . .” Her words trailed off, as if completing her sentence was too terrifying to imagine.
The pale people fell into quiet muttering, covered by a blanket of fear. Nicci realized they were not afraid of her, and she found that quite disturbing. She turned to face the brightening day, saw the empty city.
Outside, following the golden morning light as if summoned by the rising sun, an ominous black mist rolled in like a living thing. Hugging the ground, it was made of thousands of flecks, tiny shards of darkness, like a swarm of ebony locusts. The black miasma flickered and sparkled with inky shadows, extending tendrils and exploring as it crept into the ruins of Orogang.
Nicci felt an evil danger that vibrated to her bones. “By the Keeper, what is that?”
“The zhiss,” said the old woman.
The expanding black cloud crawled into Orogang like a deadly plague, and the hidden people shuddered in terror.
CHAPTER 7
We can do only so much,” Nathan said, “but, dear spirits, we can do something.”
The group had retreated deeper into the forest, where they continued to monitor the enormous enemy army.
Sitting on a moss-covered log, Prelate Verna looked determined, as if she had worked a spell on herself. Her blouse and travel skirts were frayed and dirty after her long journey. She turned to the Sisters of the Light and the Cliffwall scholars who accompanied them. “When the enemy looks too large, focus on small victories, and we will defeat General Utros one step at a time.”
The two morazeth flashed each other a determined grin. Thorn said, “Each skirmish is an opportunity for us to pick off more of them.”
Lyesse nodded. “A hundred at a time, then another hundred, then a thousand. Eventually we will make a difference.”
“I applaud your confidence, ladies,” Nathan said. “You are as deadly as you are attractive.”
“We work hard at both,” Thorn said with a sniff. She had short black hair, heavy eyebrows, and rich brown eyes. Nathan saw very little softness about her, not that he expected to.
He brushed a fly from his silk sleeve, then looked at the band of defenders. “You all saw it. The soldiers we killed were fully human, not half stone. If the petrification spell has worn off, they will be easier for us to kill.”
“And, they will be hungry,” General Zimmer pointed out. “With Ildakar gone, they cannot raid the city for supplies. More than a hundred thousand soldiers, entirely cut off. Therefore, they will have to raid every village and town they can find.”
“We can’t leave those places defenseless!” Amber said in alarm.
“We have to seek out and warn any nearby villages, prepare them for what’s coming.” Nathan raised his chin and gestured to the group. “We can move faster than any scouting expeditions.”
The wizard Renn came up to them, fidgeting. “From old records we, uh, have a basic idea of the towns in the area, though few gifted nobles ever explored beyond the city walls.” After so many days out in the wilderness, he looked like a horse that had been left out in the rain without being tended. “We didn’t pay much attention to poor, primitive villages when we had all of Ildakar.”
“Utros will want whatever towns he can find,” Zimmer said. “He will strip them bare. It is the obvious move.”
Captain Trevor glanced at his remaining city guards, who stood together under the tall, dark pines. Their uniforms were tattered and frayed, but they remained loyal to a city that no longer exist
ed. “Once the shroud of eternity came down years ago, Wizard Commander Maxim dispatched scouting parties. He wanted to know about the outside world. I remember reviewing the reports. I can recall some of the nearest towns, so we can find them before Utros does.” Trevor bent to scrape forest mulch from a patch of flat dirt, then used the point of his belt dagger to sketch out the general landforms around Ildakar, marking where the prominent towns would be.
Zimmer stood over the map, getting his bearings. “We should split up into several parties in order to spread the word as swiftly as possible.”
Verna added, “Utros has thousands of mouths to feed and no resources. Starvation might kill more of them than swords would.”
“I like killing them with my blade,” Thorn said, touching the hilt of her short sword.
“You’ll have ample opportunity, my dear,” Nathan replied. “Don’t worry.”
*
Once the separate groups chose which settlements to track down, the defenders split up and departed from their hiding place in the forest. Renn asked to accompany Nathan, and the two gifted wizards set out in search of a town called Hanavir.
Beneath his gold-trimmed white robe, Nathan still wore black travel pants, a white ruffled shirt, and black leather boots. He considered himself both a wizard and an adventurer. He carried his ornate sword, should he find himself in a more traditional battle.
Renn walked beside him through the forests and over the hills. He had shaggy brown hair that he had once kept in well-maintained ringlets; his chin was covered with stubble and his eyes were red. Despite the harrowing retreat from Ildakar, Nathan still made a point of maintaining his own appearance, using a sharp knife to shave his chin and taking advantage of his gift, or just stream water, to scrub stains from his silk robes. Renn, though, was broken and weary, no longer interested in how he looked. Sadness had knocked him off his feet.
“I wanted a chance to talk to you,” Renn said as they followed a game path. Nathan lifted a low branch, and the other wizard ducked under it without noticing. “When I left Ildakar to find Cliffwall, Lani was still just a statue.” He heaved a deep breath, looking down at the ground. “She was so beautiful, even in stone. I would come into the ruling tower when it was empty just so I could look at her.” He held out his hand, wistfully studying it. “Sometimes I’d stroke her cold, hard face and remember kissing her.”
Nathan had been impressed by Lani, too, for the brief time he had known her. “I know she loved you. I recall how determined she was.”
Renn let out a sigh. “I wish I’d been there at her brave end. I could have protected her.”
Nathan placed a hand on the other wizard’s shoulder. “I know you think that, my friend, but I was there, as were Quentin and dear Elsa. Ava and Ruva turned the scrying magic against Lani so fast that she was dead before we could do anything.”
Tears brimmed in Renn’s bloodshot eyes. “I still should have been there. At least I could have held her one last time.”
Nathan felt a lump in his throat, feeling a similar pain. “Elsa used her last magic to fling me and the rest of us to a safe distance before she activated her spell. I couldn’t save her either.” He set his shoulders. “But there’s one thing we can do to make up for it. We can do our part to save the rest of the world.”
After hours of moving through the trackless hills, they stumbled upon a wagon road. With a lighter step, the two wizards picked up their pace. Soon, they saw outlying dwellings, grazing sheep, old apple orchards. A larger cluster of homes, barns, and shops formed a bustling town. Nathan spotted grain silos, storage sheds, smokehouses. People tended gardens in the yards; a man rode in a mule-drawn wagon.
“That must be Hanavir,” Renn said.
The townspeople greeted them, not at all shy about strangers. Nathan called out, “We come to deliver a warning. This town is a target. A great army is coming to strip you of all your supplies, possibly kill your people. You need to prepare.”
An old man came forward, walking with a limp. He had a square face and thick gray hair matched by a thick gray beard. “That is quite an odd way to introduce yourselves, gentlemen. I am the mayor of Hanavir.”
“We, uh, thought you’d appreciate the warning,” Renn said. “The army of General Utros has awakened. Hundreds of thousands of soldiers are about to sweep across the Old World.”
“And they need supplies,” Nathan continued. “They’ve dispatched raiding parties, and they will find Hanavir. They’ll take everything you have.”
“But we have very little.” The mayor looked more confused than alarmed.
Nathan snorted. “With full bellies and quiet lives, you may not realize how much you have. This town has plenty to plunder.”
“But we’ve never been troubled before,” said a cartwright who stood in front of his shop.
“There’s always a first time,” Nathan said.
The mayor politely suggested they gather for a large meal to discuss the matter further. Though his mouth watered at the thought of well-prepared food, Nathan felt impatient with the casual attitude. He looked around, noting the granaries, the storehouses, the butcher shop, the smokehouse. “We need to get started right away. Take your supplies to caches in caves or bury them in the forest where no one can find them. Move your sheep from the meadows. Otherwise the raiders will take everything.”
The mayor clucked his tongue as he hobbled along. “We need to call a meeting so we can discuss this disruption. Do you have any proof that this great army is coming here? We shouldn’t be too hasty.”
Exasperated, Renn held his hands up in the air. “By the Keeper’s beard, Ildakar is gone, and General Utros is on the move! That’s why we came to warn you.”
Nathan saw that Hanavir had been complacent for too long, never expecting any crisis. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to convince the people before hoofbeats pounded along the wagon road leading into town. A raiding party of several hundred soldiers came forward, raising a cloud of dust. They were clad in antique armor that bore the flame symbol of Emperor Kurgan. As the raiders galloped into town, the mayor and his people let out a chorus of alarm. Panicked parents grabbed their children and ran to lock themselves in their houses, while others hurried to seize any weapon.
Nathan recognized First Commander Enoch leading the soldiers. The old veteran sat tall in his saddle, and one of the twin sorceresses rode on a bay mare beside him, her body covered with swirls of black and crimson paint. She was exotic, beautiful, and deadly.
As the fearful townspeople watched, Enoch raised his voice. “In the name of General Utros, we require your food and supplies. We will confiscate your grain, your flocks, your meat, your bread. We will take your wagons for transport.”
“We’ll starve!” cried the mayor.
“And we will not,” Enoch said. “Our soldiers need it more than you do.”
Beside him the sorceress curled her lips in a thin smile.
The two wizards worked their way through the crowded townspeople, coming into view. Nathan felt his gift rising inside, ready to be released. “I’m afraid we’ll have to stop you, First Commander.”
Enoch recognized the wizard from their very first parley with General Utros. Next to him, with a look of delight and hunger, the sorceress laughed out loud. “I know you, old man. Nathan, isn’t it?”
“I may have lived a thousand years, but I am not old,” he retorted. “Which one are you, Ava or Ruva? I thought you twins were inseparable.”
“We were separated by a knife when we were young,” she said, unconsciously touching a long scar on the outside of her bare leg, “but we are still connected. I am Ruva.”
Renn’s face twisted in anger as he called on his gift. “You killed Lani!” He stretched out his fingers and hurled a lightning bolt at the sorceress. The jagged lance of energy made a searing pop, but Ruva deflected the bolt with a shield, and the whistling explosion struck the ground near her mare’s front hooves. The horse reared, but the woman knotted her finge
rs in the mane to hold on.
She retaliated with a rippling wave of hot air, and Nathan barely raised his own shield in time. Her attack was ragged, and scattered fringes of heat knocked down the limping old mayor and several townspeople. Five hundred soldiers rode into the town behind Enoch, and outriders chased the surprised villagers, who screamed and fled. The situation quickly got out of hand.
Renn hurled walls of air against the ancient soldiers, but Nathan focused on his main opponent, the sorceress. He crafted a ball of wizard’s fire and raised it to hurl at Ruva.
First Commander Enoch sat tall in his saddle and bellowed, “Stop, Wizard—I command you!”
Nathan shifted the ball of wizard’s fire and turned to the scarred veteran. “Since I can incinerate you in an instant, it is time for you to surrender. Tell your soldiers to back off.”
Enoch didn’t flinch. “On the contrary, you will cease your resistance.” He raised his voice even louder and skewered Nathan with his steely eyes. “Or I will have my soldiers kill every last one of these villagers, and then we’ll take the supplies anyway. I have five hundred soldiers. You can fight us, even kill many of us, but I’m confident we can slay every family in this town before you stop us all—and you know I can do it.” His tone changed, sounding more reasonable. “Right now, we only want the supplies, but it could easily turn into a massacre, if you force my hand.”
The sounds of screams accompanied galloping hooves as the soldiers spread out among the buildings, riding down the narrow streets. When the two wizards hesitated, looking at each other, Enoch shouted orders: “Men! Show them we mean business!”
The remorseless soldiers rode down mothers and their children, trampling them, hacking at shopkeepers and craftsmen who tried to defend their town. The people of Hanavir were not fighters, and the bloodshed was immediate and dramatic.
Reacting together, Nathan and Renn bowled down the ancient warriors with waves of wind, blocking part of the attack, but despite their efforts the widespread slaughter continued across the town. Lightning strikes blasted five or six soldiers each time, but the raiders just rode harder, increased their mayhem. Hanavir was infested with enemies ransacking countless buildings. Two wizards couldn’t possibly fight against five hundred bloodthirsty warriors dispersed among the civilian population.
Heart of Black Ice (Sister of Darkness: The Nicci Chronicles Book 4) Page 5
