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

“I have no cartographic instruments, but I do have a good eye.” He added the rocky points, the crescent-shaped beach, the site of the tall stone cairn, and now the sheltered cove that held the wreck of the serpent ship. “It’s difficult to make an accurate map if you don’t know where you’re starting, but I’ll do my best. After all, I am the roving ambassador, and Richard will want a map when we come home again.” He worked his hands, concentrated, looked down at the pages, then sighed in disappointment. “A map-making spell could do a much better job, but this will serve.”

Nicci said, “At least that book provides blank paper. It is not entirely useless.”

Nathan sat up straight as a thought occurred to him. He looked at Nicci and extended a finger. “The witch woman wasn’t useless. She knew we had to be here. You had to be here.”

“Yes, to save the world, to save Richard’s empire. I’m sure it will all become clear enough … once we find someone to ask.”

Bannon looked up at them. “So if we find a place called Kol Adair, you’ll get your magic back? And the sorceress will save the world.”

“Yes!” Nathan said, then frowned. “Possibly. Or maybe it’s just a foolish, vague prediction that has no merit at all.”

Nicci added, “No one can be certain of anything a witch woman says. And prophecy no longer exists.”

“Do we have another choice? We’re here anyway. You and I came to explore the Old World. That quest seemed pointless before, but it is more important now.”

“Then we will go to Kol Adair,” Nicci said as she went to stand at the edge of their firelight, “as soon as we have any idea where to find it.”





CHAPTER 20

Bannon did not sleep well, despite the shelter of the cove and the familiar lullaby of the surf. Restless, he fought against swirling thoughts of all that had happened in the past few days, and fears of what might lie ahead.

Since he was awake, he volunteered to keep watch, brooding through the darkest hours of the night. He jumped at every sound in the darkness, fearing that burly, ruthless men would stride up the beach to seize him, to gag and bind him. But it was just his imagination … his memories.

While the beautiful sorceress slept on the sand not far from Nathan, Bannon called upon peace, reshaped the world the way he wanted it to be, and fashioned a contented smile for himself. The wizard looked unsettling as he lay near the waning fire, sound asleep but with his eyes open. Near dawn, though, his eyelids fluttered closed.

The young man roused his companions as morning light edged the high headlands. He was amazed at how instantly Nicci came awake without yawning or stretching. She rose to her feet, her blue eyes bright and alert, her expression clear as she absorbed her surroundings in a flash. She brushed sand off her black dress, and despite all the ordeals, didn’t look at all rumpled; that in itself seemed like sorcery to Bannon.

He’d been infatuated with pretty girls on Chiriya, but Nicci was unlike any woman he had ever met. She was more beautiful and intelligent than the young island women, but it was more than that. She seemed fascinating, but also dangerous. Bannon flushed with embarrassment when she caught him staring at her—and she stared right back, but with an expression that carried little warmth.

They set off into the wilderness together. After leaving the small cove behind, Bannon let out a silent sigh of relief to be away from the wreck of the ominous Norukai ship.…

“The beach gets rockier farther on,” Nicci said, scanning south along the shore. “We’d better travel inland.”

The wizard agreed. “That is where we’d likely encounter some settlement, since we haven’t seen any docks or boats on this section of the coast.”

“I’ll find a way for us to climb up,” Bannon volunteered. Scouting ahead at his own pace, he picked a feasible route, zigzagging up the crumbling sandstone cliffs. The other two followed him, hand over foot, and together they reached the open, windy flats above the surf.

The breeze was sharp and chilly, and thin clouds scudded across the sky. The tall pampas grass and low vegetation rippled as if some invisible stampede charged across the flatland. Dark green cypress trees hunched against the constant gale, their tufted branches pointed in the direction of the prevailing winds.

Nathan and Nicci discussed their plans, but the rustling breezes snatched their words from Bannon’s hearing as he scouted ahead. He was reluctant—or perhaps not brave enough—to make small talk with the beautiful sorceress. He wanted to hear where Nicci had grown up, if she’d had a perfect life, a peaceful upbringing, loving parents. Bannon didn’t need to know—didn’t want to know, actually. He just made it so in his own mind.

When Nathan startled a black-winged tern from a matted clump of grass, the old wizard bent down. “Ah, look, a nest—and better yet, three eggs.” He cradled them in his palms. “This can supplement our breakfast.”

Bannon came back, feeling his stomach growl. “Eggs? Are we going to make a new cook fire?” They had only been traveling for an hour.

Nicci took the eggs from Nathan’s hands. “No need to stop. Let me.” She wrapped her fingers around them, and Bannon saw tendrils of steam rise up. Within moments she handed him one of the eggs, and the shell was so hot that he had to juggle it in his hands. “We can eat as we walk,” Nicci said. “We have a long distance to cover—even if we don’t know where we’re going.”

Nathan finished his breakfast and tossed the crumbled eggshell to the ground. He dry-washed his hands and rubbed them on his pants.

From the outstretched headlands they could see the coastline snaking southward for miles. The hills inland were covered with dark pines and silver-leaved eucalyptus with peeling bark.

The three maintained a steady pace, and the wizard called to Bannon, “If you see any more signposts pointing the way to Kol Adair, my boy, be sure you let us know.”

Bannon cheerfully agreed, then realized Nathan was just teasing him. But was it such an unlikely possibility?

He ranged ahead, foraging, and wound his way through the bent cypress trees, then explored the stands of pine and the spicy-smelling eucalyptus. Seeing no sign of human habitation, the young man wondered if they were the first human beings to set foot on this untamed land. It felt wonderful, and it felt terrifying at the same time.

Chiriya Island had been settled for countless generations. The people grew their cabbages and set out in their fishing boats, and the only excitement was the occasional trading ship that tied up in the small harbor. He had long pretended that his younger years were perfect, with every neighbor waving a hearty hello, everyone chipping in to help one another, the weather always sunny, food on the table, a fire in the hearth on even the coldest winter nights.

He had left that place … a place that never really existed.

He was robbed in the dark alleys of Tanimura. He fought bloodthirsty selka and saw his shipmates slaughtered, certain that he, too, would die that night. But he had survived the Wavewalker being shipwrecked on an unknown shore. He had left Chiriya for this, had left his father’s hard fists and drunken shouts, had left the blood. And the kittens …

Terry Goodkind's books