Page 87 of Shroud of Eternity (Sister of Darkness: The Nicci Chronicles 2)

Then he backed away, grinning again. “But you’ve demonstrated the potential, and I know the quality of my work, hmmm? If that doesn’t happen, we can try other approaches. Have no fear—no matter how long it takes, we will have plenty of time to experiment on you.”

CHAPTER 69

The sun set on Ildakar with a flourish of crimson clouds, as if in anticipation of the imminent bloodworking. The people in the city were anxious—some nervous, some eager, some resigned.

Nicci had no intention of allowing the slaughter to happen. She would not let all those people be killed or let herself be trapped under a shroud of eternity. It was time to act.

As darkness gathered in the streets, lights glimmered in homes and inns, candle flames, oil lamps, or magical glows from gifted proprietors. Like nocturnal predators slipping out of shadowy hiding places, Mirrormask’s rebels began to move out into the city.

Nicci emerged with them, her golden hair brushed out so that it was long and flowing. Her black dress clung to her, the skirts swirling around her legs like a pool of ink as she emerged from the sandstone tunnel entrance. “I don’t need to hide anymore,” she said. “I want Sovrena Thora and all of Ildakar to know who brings their downfall.”

“We do,” said Mirrormask, striding along beside her. The reflective plate covering his face was polished to a high luster. His gray robes flowed around him like fog as he walked with Nicci to their rendezvous. He had rallied hundreds of his followers, telling them to meet in a dark and dusty grain warehouse—ironically, the same warehouse where Mrra had been captured.

Nicci knew it was no coincidence. Mirrormask had done that for her.

The rebels wore brown robes with hoods to hide their faces. Around their necks, each of them wore a thin wooden disk engraved with an incineration rune. If they should die, their bodies would be instantly immolated, so as not to reveal their identities and unravel the entire network. Rendell wrapped his sweaty hand around the disk, clinging to it.

“You won’t need that,” Nicci reassured him. “The freedom fighters for Ildakar will no longer disguise who they are.” She looked at the people in the dusty shadows of the grain warehouse. Lanterns hung from the rafters overhead, shedding yellow-orange light and casting severe shadows. “After tonight, you will be proud to admit that you followed Mirrormask. If you die in the fight, your families and your friends will boast of what you have done, and they will make sure everyone knows it.”

A muttered cheer rippled among the rebels. Rendell reached up and pushed back his brown hood, shaking loose his hair. “For tonight’s work, I don’t intend to hide who I am.”

A dry-faced woman beside him did the same. With a ripple of cloth that sounded like a stirring of wings, many more rebels pulled back their disguising hoods. “We don’t need to hide who we are.”

Nicci felt the gift within her, a tingle of magic that made her hair rise with static. She turned to Mirrormask, and saw her reflection where his face should have been. She looked hard at him, silently urging him to reveal himself as all the others had. Among his dedicated followers, he should not be afraid to show the appalling deformity a fleshmancer had wrought on his face.

Mirrormask reached up and adjusted the mirror mask, but left it squarely on his face. “This is who I am,” he said. His voice, though muffled, rang out so that all could hear. “This is whom my people follow.”

Rendell shouted, “Mirrormask!” The others quickly picked up the chant. “Mirrormask! Mirrormask!”

Throughout the streets, people were preparing for the bloodworking ritual. Ever since Sovrena Thora and the wizards’ duma had issued their announcement, the whole city seemed to be holding its breath in anticipation. Mirrormask’s spies had reported that the three hundred slaves, made docile from the intoxicating perfume of the red peaceflowers, had been herded into a large holding area near the central pyramid.

Mirrormask seemed uncertain, even though they had spent hours that afternoon planning in detail, deciding which moves to make, how they would begin their strike, and how best to achieve their victory. Nicci had discussed, then argued strategy with him, and finally she realized that Mirrormask enjoyed his followers and enjoyed leading the rebellion, but the end goal itself was not a bright flame within him. He liked to launch small uprisings, stir up the city. His followers would bravely place their mirror shards in the walls, paint defiant words on buildings, but Nicci wondered if Mirrormask truly wanted to succeed. Complaining about a corrupt government was one thing, but actually ruling a city was quite a different task. Though his rebellion had slowly grown for years, he had achieved little until Nicci and her companions arrived.

That was unacceptable to Nicci. She would fight to win.

She spoke up when Mirrormask seemed at a loss for words. “It ends tonight. Word has spread throughout the city. The slaves are whispering, even those who have not joined us. They will know what to do when they see the uprisings in the streets. Our army will increase a thousandfold as soon as this begins.” She flashed a hard smile. “The blood magic is scheduled at midnight, but full dark has already fallen, and this is our time. Blood will be spilled tonight—and it will not be the sacrificial slaves.”

“But how will we fight against wizards?” one of the rebels asked, his voice cracking with nervousness. He was a long-faced young man with prematurely thinning hair and pockmarks on his cheeks. “We are not gifted.”

“Leave that to me,” Nicci said. “I owe the sovrena a fair amount of pain.”

Rendell’s steely eyes flashed as he turned to his comrades. “And if they kill you, you will die free! From the moment you fight back, you have liberated yourself.” The drab woman next to him reached out to take his hand. Rendell lowered his voice. “Whether you survive or not is secondary.”

Someone else began the chant again. “Mirrormask! Mirrormask!”

Rendell added, “Nicci! Nicci!”

She felt the energy of their defiance in the air. It continued to increase in intensity.

“This is not a rally,” Nicci said. “This is a call to war, and I will strike the first blow. I’ll lead a group to the animal pits and the fighters’ cells. We’ll release all the captives there, both man and beast, and they will help us.” She smiled grimly. With Mrra and Bannon at her side, Nicci would feel powerful again. She would do this, not just for herself and the people of Ildakar, but for Richard Rahl and his dream of a unified world.

“I will go with you,” Mirrormask said. “If this is our first battle, then we should be together.”

Nicci didn’t argue with him. She touched the hilts of two sheathed daggers at her hips; she had replaced the weapons after her battle with Adessa. “We have everything we need.”

* * *

Drawing upon the vivid memories she had seen through her dream connection, Nicci knew exactly where to find Mrra. But her map was filtered through the sand panther’s senses, which relied as much on identifying smells and sounds as on sight. Nevertheless, she would lead her companions.

“Don’t be afraid to kill,” Nicci said, making sure they all heard her. “Your enemy certainly isn’t.”

They moved furtively through the streets. Whispered word passed down the alleys and lower thoroughfares, and their numbers swelled. Speed was their friend now. Soon enough all chaos would break loose with fangs, claws, and blades.

“I’ve looked forward to this for a long time,” Mirrormask said. “My people are ready. Ildakar will not know what is about to hit them.”

The stink assaulted Nicci’s senses even before they reached the menagerie. She felt a prickle in her skin, a tingle in the back of her mind, the faint intangible presence of her sister panther. Mrra could sense her, too, knew she was coming. Nicci put on a surge of speed, forgoing all caution.

Outside the dark entrance to the animal tunnels stood several large cages that held mangy, dispirited-looking foxes and coyotes. Jackals snarled and snapped in a third pen. These were not enhanced or trained creatures, but me

rely practice prey for the more fearsome animals.

Four members of the city guard saw the mob coming and took defensive stances. “Halt! You have no business here.”

Nicci swept her hand to one side, releasing a hard slap of air that hurled the guards against the wall, stunning them.

“It begins,” Mirrormask said, sounding immensely satisfied.

Nicci pointed to the outer cages. “Loose them. Let the animals run free.”

Behind her, the rebels worked the latches, and the coyotes knocked their rescuers aside as they sprang free, darting down alleys. The jackals barked and growled, frantic to get away.

Two more guards came running, their scaled armor clattering as they drew their short swords. The rebels ducked to one side as the jackals sprang free, and the beasts fell upon the oncoming guards. One man sprawled face-first on the cobblestones while the jackals tore into him, shredding the armor on his back. The other guard fled, yelling for assistance.

Nicci paid no attention to what was happening in the streets. She pushed into the widened tunnel that smelled of musk and wet fur, blood and excrement. “Open the cages,” she called. “Release them all, and not just a few this time. We must send a stampede through the streets to disrupt the bloodworking.”

Letting her comrades do the work, she passed cages and stone alcoves, artificial lairs for predatory beasts. She knew where she had to go. Mrra called to her through the silent thrumming of her spell bond.

The tunnels were a maze, but Nicci remembered what the panther had seen and smelled. Workers in the pits responded to the shouts and roars, and when they saw the brown-robed rebels, they ran away instead of remaining to defend the animals. Some of the slave workers even helped, throwing the bolts and pulling open barred gates.

---