Nicci halted. “This is the place. This the view Thistle would want. From here, she would have been able to see the restoration of life that she made possible.”
As hot tears stung her eyes, Nicci caught a glimpse of Bannon and Nathan, their faces also flooded with grief. Bannon’s hazel eyes welled with unshed tears, and even Nathan, who had seen so much sadness and lost so many people during his centuries of life, was deeply affected by the loss of this one spunky and determined little girl.
“Her spirit can tell the Creator how she would like the valley to be,” Nathan said. “I’m sure she will make herself heard.”
Bannon nodded. “Thistle could be very convincing.” His voice cracked.
Nicci could only nod. She felt so full of words, emotions, and ideas that she wanted to express, but they only simmered within her. Thistle would know. That was all Nicci cared about.
With a gesture from her hand, she released a flow of magic that moved the dirt and rocks on the chosen patch of ground. As she had done at the village of Renda Bay, Nicci created a grave, carving out a perfect, comfortable last bed to embrace Thistle’s remains.
As the scholars watched solemnly, Nicci laid the girl wrapped in the sheepskin into the open grave. “This is as far as you can go with us,” Nicci said. “I know you wanted to travel to see all the new lands we intend to explore, but from here you can watch the valley. I hope it becomes all you ever wanted to see.”
Her arms and shoulders felt stiff, and it was because she had forced such tight control on her muscles to keep herself from trembling. Nicci drew a deep breath. She, Bannon, and Nathan looked down at the wrapped form in the grave. With a gesture, Nicci brought the soft loamy dirt back into place, filling it perfectly, leaving an open patch of naked brown earth on top.
“Should we mark the grave somehow?” Gloria asked. “Is there a stone or a wooden post you’d like us to use?”
Nicci thought of what Thistle had said, how she had laughed at the frivolous but wondrous thought. The girl had grown up without seeing anything of natural beauty, watching her aunt and uncle eke out a living in Verdun Springs, trying to grow stunted plants for food.
“Flowers,” Nicci said. “Plant beautiful flowers. That’s what Thistle would want to mark her grave.”
*
Before she and her companions departed again, Nicci called a gathering inside Cliffwall, speaking to the workers, farmers, and canyon dwellers as well as the memmers and scholars. In a stern voice, she said, “We have only been here for a few weeks, but already we have saved the world—twice! Both times the disasters were caused by your own clumsy ignorance. And, oh, the consequences … the price that had to be paid.”
She swept her blue-eyed gaze over the gifted researchers, and they trembled with guilt and shame.
She continued, “You are untrained. Thousands of years ago, your people were entrusted to guard this storehouse of knowledge. Dangerous knowledge. Do not consider it a library, but an armory—all the books and scrolls here are weapons, and you have seen how easily they can be misused.”
“With disastrous results,” Nathan said. “For all my objections to the Sisters and their iron collars, at least they devoted themselves to training new wizards back at the Palace of the Prophets. With the lore stored here, you cannot just willy-nilly dabble with spells as if they were toys.”
Franklin hung his head. “Perhaps we should devote ourselves only to the work of cataloging, exactly as Simon wanted us to do. That is enough to keep us busy for decades.”
Gloria wiped a small tear from the side of her eye. “The memmers can help to match what we know with the volumes we find on the shelves.” She drew a deep breath, let it out slowly. “But who will teach us?” She looked hopefully at Nicci and Nathan. “Will you stay?”
Nicci shook her head. “We will depart soon. I have my own mission for Lord Rahl, and the wizard has an important destination.” She spoke in a tone of command, the same tone she had used to send tens of thousands of Emperor Jagang’s soldiers off to certain death. “But after we go, you must do one thing for me. An important task.”
Franklin spread his hands, then gave a respectful bow. “Of course, Sorceress. Cliffwall is in your debt.”
“Send emissaries north to D’Hara and tell Lord Rahl about this archive, and about what we have done here. That is knowledge he needs. Once he learns what is here, he will send his own wizards, scholars, experts. They will help you.”
“I’m sure Verna would delight in the challenge,” Nathan said. “Dear spirits, imagine what the Prelate would do with so much unexplored lore! She needs something to do, now that prophecy is gone. She could bring many Sisters with her.” He nodded slowly. “Yes, indeed, you would be in good hands.” He narrowed his eyes and added in a scolding tone, “But in the meantime, no more dabbling with spells.”
Gloria agreed. “We will put in checks and balances to insure that no disaster like Roland or Victoria ever happens again.”
One of the scholars fidgeted, looking at the rest of the uneasy audience. “But how will we find D’Hara?” He was a thin and rabbity young man named Oliver who had a habit of squinting, as if his eyesight had already waned from too much reading by dim candlelight. “I will volunteer to go, to accept the quest … so long as I know where I’m going.”
Nicci had little patience for the details. “Follow the old imperial roads. Head north. Make your way beyond the Phantom Coast to the main port cities of the Old World. Ask about the Lord Rahl.”
“That will be an arduous expedition, Oliver.” Franklin sounded uncertain.
“Yes, it will be,” Nicci said. “And we require it of you. Sometimes you must do things even though they are hard.”
“I will go with Oliver,” said a thin young memmer woman, Peretta, with tight ringlets of dark hair. “Not only is it an important mission, but every person here in Cliffwall, whether memmer or traditional scholar, has a mission to gather knowledge. And what could be a better way to seek knowledge than to explore the rest of the world?” She blinked her large brown eyes.
Oliver smiled and nodded at her. “I will be happy to have you.”
“You’ll both learn much. You’ll be great explorers.” Nathan patted the leather pouch at his side, which still carried his life book. “I will also want Cliffwall scholars to copy the maps I’ve drawn along the way, and take a summary of our expedition so far. The people of D’Hara need to know everything they can of the Old World.”
Franklin looked at the memmers, then at the rest of the scholars, and he gave a confident nod. “Do you think you can do this, Oliver and Peretta? Will you be ambitious enough to undertake this quest?”