Page 35 of Shroud of Eternity (Sister of Darkness: The Nicci Chronicles 2)

Thora looked at Maxim, kept her expression cool. “It is a rare occurrence, but I agree with my husband.” She looked at the befuddled wizard. “Renn, we have a mission for you. There is a great archive called Cliffwall, a reservoir of preserved magical knowledge. Put together a party and go find it for us. Nicci will give you the information you need.”

Nicci placed her hands at her side. “You’ll never find it. It remained hidden for millennia.”

“You said yourself that its camouflage shroud is down. I’m sure Renn can discover Cliffwall.” Maxim pointed to Renn. “It’s on the other side of Kol Adair. Cross over the mountains, find the desert canyons. It can’t be difficult.”

Renn’s mouth opened and closed in astonishment as the wizard was caught between fascination and fear. “I would like nothing more than to find a new archive of information. Over the past fifteen centuries, I’ve read every book in the city of Ildakar. But if the archive is outside and … far away…” He smacked his lips together. “Well, the journey may be dangerous.”

“Then take an escort. A dozen armed guards.” Maxim sniffed. “In fact, why don’t you take that guard we met earlier, Captain … what was his name? Ahh, yes—Trevor.”

“He seemed useless here,” Thora added. “Too sickened by the sight of blood. Have him lead the group.”

“I do not think this is wise,” Nicci warned in a louder voice.

Thora scowled at her again. “You disapprove of much that we do, and yet Ildakar endures. I am the sovrena, and I make the decisions.” She gestured to dismiss Renn. “That is my command, and that is your duty as a member of the duma. Go find Cliffwall and see what we can use. It belongs to us anyway.” She squared her narrow shoulders, then nodded. “Much of that lore was taken from Ildakar three thousand years ago. It is time we had it back.”

“But … Sovrena,” Renn said, fluttering his fingers in the air. He brushed sweat from his forehead, then wiped it on his robes. “You are about to raise the shroud again. What if you restore it permanently while I am away?”

Maxim finished his bloodwine. “Then we will be very disappointed that you haven’t brought the Cliffwall records back in time.” He poured another goblet of bloodwine for himself, topped off Thora’s, then frowned when he saw that Nicci hadn’t taken so much as a sip. He waved his hand. “Go, Renn—you had better hurry!”

The wizard scurried off.

CHAPTER 25

Sickened by what had happened to Ian, Bannon no longer noticed any of the wonders of Ildakar. He spent the day alone, trying to figure out what he could do to help his friend.

His mind churned in a slow whirlpool of regrets and fond memories. He and Ian used to pluck wriggling green caterpillars from the cabbage plants and place them in a jar. They would feed them torn cabbage leaves until the worms shed their skin and hung in a chrysalis on the side of the jar before emerging as the common white butterflies that fluttered through the fields. Now Bannon’s lips curved in a wan smile as he thought of how he and Ian would chase the newborn butterflies down the rows of green cabbage plants.

Some days, he and Ian used to toss cabbage heads back and forth as makeshift balls. Bored boys could always find things to amuse them, such as going down to their special isolated cove to play in the tide pools.…

Then, like a pane of glass shattering, Bannon could only think of the despairing look on Ian’s face as Norukai slavers clubbed him and dragged him to the longboat while Bannon fled. He could not imagine the pain and suffering Ian had endured in the years since. The poor boy must have been beaten, abused. Bannon remembered seeing the patterns of scars all over his friend’s skin down in the training pits. How many cuts and bruises had he suffered? Broken bones, concussions, injuries that weren’t readily visible?

A subconscious groan came from deep in his throat. Bannon had begged forgiveness from his friend, but he knew he didn’t deserve it. That one second of hesitation, that one betrayal, had cost him so much in his heart.

And it had cost Ian everything.

But what circumstances had brought the young man here? What sort of winding obstacle course of events could have taken a Norukai captive from Chiriya Island to here in the fabled ancient city, where he fought in their combat arena? How? Sweet Sea Mother, how … and why?

I should have been there. I should never have left him. They captured me first.

Now, so long after the fact and feeling the sharp pain inside, Bannon wished the circumstances had been reversed, that he’d been the one captured after all, that Ian had gotten away to live with his loving family, his mother and father, his little sister Irene.

After Bannon ran back to the island village, sounding the alarm and wailing for help, it had been far too late. Ian’s family had been destroyed by the loss of their son, and Bannon’s father had cuffed him for being such a coward. Bannon endured the abuse, because that time he knew he deserved it.

Since his own life had already been filled with so much pain from his drunken father, maybe he should have made the sacrifice, let his friend escape instead. That way, Ian could have grown up in a happy home, married a beautiful island girl, maybe even occasionally raised a toast to his lost friend, Bannon.

But instead, Bannon had stayed behind and suffered more years of being beaten by his father, before trying to save those poor kittens from drowning … and in doing so, leaving his dear mother vulnerable to that abusive man. Bannon had failed on both fronts.

And he had failed Ian, too.…

On top of the plateau, the day was warm and the sun bright. Bannon wandered the streets, deep in thought and already perspiring, and when he finally made his way back to the grand villa, he found Amos, Jed, and Brock lounging about, distracted.

“Our friend Bannon looks glum,” Amos said, “and we don’t have anything to do. Let’s cheer him up.”

“How are we going to do that?” Jed asked.

Brock chuckled. “Take him back to the silk yaxen, even if he doesn’t want to partake.”

“He could watch me and Melody,” Amos said. “I promise I won’t make her sing this time.”

Flushing, Bannon shook his head. “I’m fine. I’ll just go back to my room.”

“No, you won’t,” Amos said. “Stick with us, and we’ll take care of you.”

Bannon steeled himself, forced an optimistic expression onto his face. “There is something you can do.…” He drew a breath, and nervously stroked his long reddish hair. “I have a favor to request.”

“A favor?” Amos asked. “Have you earned it?”

Bannon furrowed his brow. “I was always taught a favor is something you ask, not earn.”

“Maybe we’re taught differently in Ildakar,” Brock said.

He began, “Yesterday, I went

down to the training pits near the combat arena.”

The three young men laughed. “Adessa might tumble with you, but that’s another thing you’d need to earn, Bannon. You’d have to demonstrate your prowess as a fighter before any of the morazeth take you seriously.”

“No, i-it’s not that,” he stammered, looking for words. “Sweet Sea Mother…” He shook his head. “I need you to help me free my friend Ian. The champion. You have money and connections. The arena masters would listen to you.”

“The champion?” Brock asked. “I doubt that.”

Amos appeared to consider the idea. “We might be able to do it. Just give us time. We’ll talk about it later.”

Bannon couldn’t tell if the other young man took the request seriously, or if it was a joke. Maybe they were stringing him along, but what other choice did he have? “Later? How much time? If you could just come with me to see him…”

“Tomorrow,” Amos said. “Too much to do today.”

“I thought you said you didn’t have anything to do.”

“Keeper’s crotch, we haven’t shown you the river and the bluffs, one of the most amazing parts of Ildakar. You deserve to see it, and there’s no better way than if we show you. We can tell you the history.”

Jed leaned against a marble column while Amos swung himself to his feet, stomping his boots on the fine white gravel. Brock straightened his spotted cape, threw back his shoulders, and rotated his arms, as if to limber up for a fight.

Amos said, “From the top of the cliffs, you can watch the boats and the cargo come up the river.” He cocked an eyebrow at Bannon. “From there, even you can feel like a lord.”

“Never wanted to be a lord,” Bannon said. “I’m just a cabbage farmer at heart, but an adventurer too. I wanted to see the world.” He patted the pommel of Sturdy. “And Ian was taken away—”

Amos and his companions clearly didn’t want to hear about it. The young men moved off with long bouncing strides, and Bannon followed them down from the top of the plateau and along a curving thoroughfare that took them around the uplift toward the river-facing side.

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