Death's Mistress (Sister of Darkness: The Nicci Chronicles #1)

Panting and weary, Nathan came to stand at the top of the pass and inhaled a deep breath of the cold, thin air. The splendor of the view struck him like a physical blow. “Kol Adair—dear spirits, it’s magnificent!”

Since escaping from the Palace of the Prophets, he had witnessed many sights, experienced grand and dramatic events, but he had never before beheld a panorama that inspired in him such absolute awe. From here, they could see forever.

The sun shone down upon the high mountain valley through the lens of a perfectly transparent blue sky. Regimented black crags spread out in a fiercely beautiful barrier, their peaks capped with snow. Dramatic couloirs cradled glaciers that dispatched pearly white ribbons of meltwater over cliffs in a chain of thundering waterfalls. The cascades sent up a wondrous spray that spawned rainbows. Mountain lakes in hanging valleys glittered like jewels, the purest turquoise blue, some crusted with broken white ice still unmelted in midsummer.

Bannon plodded up beside him, wheezing, too weary to do anything but stare at his boots. When he lifted his head to take in the view, though, he gasped.

Nathan continued to drink in the visceral beauty around him. The sweeping meadows were lush and green, spangled with so many bright and colorful alpine flowers it looked like a meteor shower of blossoms. Even from this distance, he could hear the soothing roar of the waterfalls that tumbled down the black cliff faces. Bluebirds darted about in the spray or swooped down to snatch insects among the wildflowers.

On the saddle, Mrra paced around the open terrain, staying close to Nicci. None of the three spoke as they absorbed the sight.

Nathan filled his lungs with the brisk air and extended his arms to his sides, just reveling in the beauty, the uplifting spectacle. Was this what the witch woman Red had wanted him to see? Although he gloried in the vista, Nathan wondered if this very place was supposed to restore his gift. He stretched out his arms, flexed his fingers, wondered if he felt whole again.

Restless and not sure what they were supposed to do now that they had arrived, Nicci wandered across the open, flat area. She explored the low grasses, pincushion mounds of pink flowers, and lichen-spattered boulders.

Nathan knew there had to be something more if the witch woman had sent them here, if the command had been written in an old life book and chiseled in the stones of a cairn a continent away. He had to have come here to Kol Adair for a reason.

Nathan could survive just fine without his gift of prophetic misery, but living without his magic was different. He had drawn great satisfaction from the spells he could work, the magical weapons he could wield—and he could have been a valuable asset in fighting both the Lifedrinker and Victoria. When he and Nicci had begun their journey, leaving the People’s Palace and heading into the Dark Lands, Nathan had believed that the two of them would be invincible, a wizard and a powerful sorceress. He needed to be able to do his part again. He needed his magic back.

And this was the place he should be. But he felt no different.

“Look, another cairn!” Bannon said. To mark the top of the pass, some other traveler had piled up a tall cairn of stones, even more imposing than the one they had seen on the windswept Phantom Coast. He set off, but plodded slowly because he was out of breath.

Nicci reached the rocks first. She circled slowly, searching for a message such as what they had found before. She stopped, looked at the rocks, and frowned. “Nathan, come here.”

Hurrying up to her, he felt a surge of hope, longing to feel his Han again, to control his gift and become a useful wizard once more. He needed to be made whole again!

Nathan looked down at the base of the cairn. Among the stacked rocks, like a grave marker, was a flat stone tablet devoid of pervasive lichens. Words had been chiseled into the flat granite surface: Wizard, behold what you need to make yourself whole again.

Nathan felt a surge of delight. He had seen that phrase before. “So the witch woman was here. Red communicated those words. And they’re written in my life book … just as they were engraved on that other cairn.”

“Either Red was here in person, or she foresaw it,” Nicci said. “Someone left these words, and the witch woman knew about this from the time before prophecy was banished from the world. Kol Adair has been waiting for you for some time, Nathan Rahl.”

“But what does it mean?” Bannon asked. “How will you get your magic back?” He turned a hopeful look to the wizard.

Nathan didn’t want to admit that he had no idea of the answer. His brows knitted in concentration, and he made a grandiose gesture to indicate the astonishing vista, trying to convince himself. “Perhaps it is something about this place. Look around you, a sight so marvelous that it’s enough to wash away the darkness in the world.” He gave Nicci a meaningful look. “After killing the Lifedrinker and Victoria, and after the tragic loss of that poor little Thistle, maybe this is what we all need to restore ourselves.” He closed his eyes and drew in another deep, satisfied breath of the clear air.

Nicci turned from the cairn. “I need more than a pretty view to heal the darkness inside me. I am strong enough to do that for myself. I already have a strong purpose.”

Nathan swept his gaze across the waterfalls, hanging valleys, snowcapped peaks. His skin tingled, his pulse raced, and he felt a wondrous energy that he drew from the earth itself.

“This must be a magical place, a nexus of power springing from the world, just as the bones of a dragon carry a certain kind of power,” Nathan said. “Simply by being here, I do feel myself restored! Yes, dear spirits, this is what I needed. It was worth the entire journey.”

He stretched out his palm, cupped his fingers, and concentrated, remembering what it felt like. He reached for his Han and released a flow of magic, intending to call up a ball of flame. He remembered the last time he had attempted such a spell, on the windswept deck of the Wavewalker, manifesting only feathery flickers that had scattered away in the breeze. Now, he meant to produce a bright blaze cupped in his hand.

He had reached Kol Adair. His powers should be back.

Nothing happened.

He concentrated harder. Nicci and Bannon watched him. But although he strained, he felt no response from his gift. Nothing.

His heart, which had felt so uplifted in this magnificent place, now sank into dismay. His magic was gone, unraveled and untangled, stripped from him just as his ability of prophecy had gone away.

“What did I do wrong?” he demanded. “Why haven’t I been restored? I should be made whole here—look at the words on the cairn! What else do I need to do?” He raised his voice in desperation, knowing that neither Nicci nor Bannon would have an answer for him.

He hung his head. The foundations of the world had changed, and the stars had shifted overhead. “Maybe with the loss of prophecy, Red’s prediction is no longer true after all.”





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