Nicci had come to that realization long ago. She still loved Richard with all her heart, but in a different way. Nicci had gone to the Old World to serve him, to explore his new empire, to lay the groundwork for a new golden age … even if it meant she had to be far away from him.
She had not believed the words Red had written, about saving the world—for Richard—but now she saw it was true. First the Lifedrinker and now mad Victoria would have swallowed up the world, devastated the D’Haran Empire. Nicci had to do everything necessary to defeat the enemy, but in order to do so she needed the heart’s blood of someone she loved.
And it was Richard she loved. She could think of no one else.
Nicci had to be the archer. No one else had the necessary power to face Victoria. Nathan had lost control of his gift, and none of these amateur scholars and dabblers here in Cliffwall even approached Nicci’s skill. It must be her.
But … someone she loved? Truly loved? Richard …
That solution was not possible. She couldn’t save the world for Richard, if she had to kill Richard to do so. Oh, if he knew the situation, truly understood what was at stake, Nicci was sure he would immediately agree to the terms—he would offer himself, tear open his shirt to expose his chest so that she could take his heart’s blood. He would willingly give Nicci what she needed, the blood poison that would stop Life’s Mistress.
But he was on the other side of the world.
And Nicci would never kill Richard, could never kill him. The very thought filled her with horror. She remembered how it had destroyed her to stop his heart, to send him to the underworld, so he could rescue Kahlan. He had begged her, and Nicci could not refuse him.
But now … Would she sacrifice the world itself, just to keep Richard alive a little longer? It sounded foolish, but she knew she would. Her stomach knotted.
Somewhere, far up in the Dark Lands, Red must be laughing.
The heart’s blood of a loved one.
As she listened to the moans of the gathered scholars, she knew they were all terrified, but not as despairing as Nicci was. After the difficult quest to obtain the dragon’s rib, and with her own powers as a sorceress, she had expected to have the weapon to kill Victoria.
But it was not enough, and now the last component simply did not seem achievable. She didn’t know what to do.
Nathan sat on the floor, staring at Mia’s pale, lifeless face. He stroked the mousy brown hair from her forehead. “I am so sorry, my dear.” Wearing a stricken expression, he wiped her brow with the always moist, always cool kerchief that she had given him before their journey to Kuloth Vale.
Nicci looked down at Thistle, who was thankfully unharmed from the attack, other than a scratch on her leg.
Suddenly Bannon stood before Nicci, still bleeding from his forehead. He rested the point of his lackluster sword on the floor in front of him. He reached up to wipe a smear of blood from his wound, obviously drawing on his courage. He raised his chin and looked at her. “I am the one, Sorceress.” He drew a ragged breath. “It has to be me.”
He hooked his fingers in the opening of his shirt and tore it open to expose his chest. “I know you care for me. I saw how you looked at me after we fought the Lifedrinker together. You praised me for how useful I was. And I have seen what Victoria is doing … what she already did to Audrey, Laurel, and Sage.” Sad determination filled his eyes. “If I can save the world by giving my life, then I’ll gladly do so. Draw your knife, take my heart’s blood.” He swallowed hard. “It belongs to you anyway.” He lifted his head back and closed his eyes, as if bracing himself for a deathblow.
Taken aback, Nicci scowled. “Don’t be a fool.” She pushed him aside. “That would never work. I have no time for this.”
Leaving the crestfallen Bannon behind, she stalked away to the archive chambers, hoping to find a different answer, some other way in one of the spell books. She felt a terrible dread inside.
After all Nicci had endured in her life, what if there was no one she loved?
CHAPTER 73
With the full intensity of a dedicated memmer, Nicci mulled over all the knowledge she possessed, the spells she had been taught, the powers she had stolen from the wizards she killed. There had to be another solution.
Wanting to be alone as she grappled with her thoughts, she went to stand outside under the great overhang of the main cliff grotto. She looked across the hidden, protected canyons to the clustered dwellings in the smaller alcoves scattered up and down the opposite cliffs. All these people had lived sheltered for millennia, guarding this secret archive. They had seemed safe, untouched by the outside world until young Victoria had accidentally brought down the camouflage shroud and revealed the great library after thousands of years.
The knowledge contained in the archive was dangerous enough, Nicci knew, but far worse were those amateur would-be wizards who did not understand the powers they foolishly unleashed.
Now, late in the afternoon, the secluded canyons felt peaceful and quiet, as if unaware of the monstrous flood of life that approached like a destructive wave from the opposite side of the plateau. Nicci had to stop Victoria, who had transformed herself into a monster. She knew how to accomplish the task, how to defeat Life’s Mistress, but whether or not the price was too high, Nicci didn’t know how to pay it. The answer seemed impossible.
Nicci, a gifted sorceress, had the dragon-rib bow, she had arrows, and she had the will. She was ready to face Life’s Mistress and kill her.
But she did not have the necessary poison.
Nevertheless, Nicci refused to accept the impossible. She never had.
Tension filled the halls of Cliffwall as the scholars tried to find some way to help. Nathan mourned the death of Mia, and Nicci knew he would do anything to destroy Victoria and her rampaging fecundity, but he had no magic to offer … or if he did, the wild and uncontrolled backlash might cause even more destruction than Victoria.
There had to be something else.…
Lost in thoughts, Nicci stared into the brooding canyon silence, where shepherds, farmers, and orchard tenders went about their business as they waited for what came next. Sheltered, peaceful, oblivious … A grim weight pressed down on her shoulders. These people all counted on her to save them, because no one else had the ability.
Yet Nicci wasn’t sure she had the ability either—the ability to love.
It seemed laughable and tragic that, for all her knowledge, for all the great magic she possessed—and every skill she had learned or power she had stolen—Nicci’s great failing was a simple human emotion that any child could produce at will.