Chalk squatted next to Bannon, munching handfuls of raw meat. “Revenge on the fish! Fish tried to eat me, and now I eat the fish.”
Bannon again noted the pockmarks on his skin. “What really happened to you? Why do you have all those scars?”
“Fish nibbled me,” Chalk said. “Wish the fish! Wish the fish! King Stern didn’t like me. He threw me in a pool of razorfish, and they almost ate me, but Grieve pulled me out. He saved me, took me to a healer. My Grieve, King Grieve, you’ll all grieve!”
Bannon tried to piece together the shaman’s ordeal from his patchwork words. Chalk had been sacrificed to a pool of carnivorous fish—because he was an albino? because he was odd?—and the fish had torn his skin to shreds before he was rescued? No wonder he was so loyal to Grieve.
The thought of what had happened twisted Bannon’s stomach, even eliciting an odd sympathy for the scarred and mentally disturbed man. Considering all the Norukai had done to him, Bannon chastised himself for feeling sorry for Chalk, but the pale man had an odd longing in his eyes.
The shaman glanced over his shoulder to the bow, where the king stood. “Nibble, nibble, nibble! Fish will nibble me still. Eat my flesh and bones when I die.” Chalk jammed more raw flesh into his mouth. “Now I eat the fish. Which ones will eat me, I wonder.?.?.?.”
Bannon ate as much of the catfish entrails as he could stand. Next to him, Erik sluggishly chewed a mouthful, but he looked sick. Trying to encourage his friend, he forced himself to set a good example and eat a little more. Erik didn’t seem to notice.
Impatient, the king bellowed out, “Enough wasted time. Set the sails and raise anchor. Soon, we’ll reach the estuary and the open sea. We have a war to fight.”
As the serpent ships got underway again, Grieve grimaced at the slime and blood pooled across the deck. “Have the slaves clean this up. They need to earn the feast we just gave them.”
“Scrub!” The shipwright Gara handed Bannon a bucket and bristle brush. She raised a threatening fist. “Scrub to make you strong enough for fighting.”
Bannon knew he would be strong enough to kill any Norukai who gave him the chance. As the serpent ships sailed on, he and the other slaves got to work.
CHAPTER 26
After watching the sacrifice of the man named Cal, Nicci now fully understood the explosive threat of the zhiss. She could not just abandon these people to seek another war, hoping they would manage to keep containing the bloodthirsty black cloud. She had to find a way to stop the destructive force before it broke loose and swarmed across the landscape. Nicci was not one to walk away and leave a problem unsolved.
And the Sorceress must save the world.
While sheltered inside during the day, Nicci called some of the Hidden People into Kurgan’s cavernous throne room. Restless, Mrra brushed against Nicci’s leg. Her black travel dress was swallowed up in the stark shadows of the torchlit chamber.
She announced to the group without preamble, “I will help you find a way to stop or destroy the zhiss.” The big cat let out a growl, as if to agree with her sister panther’s new mission.
The Hidden People sounded relieved and excited. Young Asha grinned. “I knew you would!”
With a satisfied expression, Cora nodded. “The legends said a hero would come back and save us.”
“It should be General Utros,” said Cyrus. “That was the prophecy.”
“Would you prefer to wait for him?” Nicci snapped. “Or shall I try?”
Cyrus frowned. “You may try.”
“I tend to succeed.” Nicci did not boast of her past victories. She had killed Jagang, she had helped Richard defeat Emperor Sulachan and his hordes. She had destroyed the Lifedrinker as well as the violently uncontrolled Victoria. She had fought the twisted society of Ildakar, and she had clashed with General Utros. The zhiss swarm was an entirely different danger.
Nicci stepped onto the cold stone dais that had once held Iron Fang’s imposing throne. “I am a sorceress, and I was once a Sister of the Dark. I can use both the Additive and Subtractive sides of my gift. I don’t know what the zhiss are or where they came from, but I will find a way to stop them.”
The shadowy people looked at her with hopeful expressions. They pulled back their gray hoods to reveal faces white from living in darkness, but their expressions now showed a spark of hope that she had not seen earlier. Mrra thrashed her tail, and a low rumble vibrated from her throat.
Cora came forward to help. “We can tell you everything we know about them. Maybe it will give you what you need to find a solution.”
*
The Hidden People had studied the black swarm for generations, documenting their observations, their extrapolations, and several failed attempts to eradicate the zhiss. For more than five hundred years, they had poisoned their bodies with the toxic fungus, but they had tried little else, simply clinging to the status quo and keeping the threat at least marginally under control.
Cora brought her scrolls and bound journals, ledgers where witnesses had recorded their thoughts from generations earlier. Nicci pored over the words, dismissing anything that was not relevant. She had studied for many years in the Palace of the Prophets and also learned techniques that were forbidden.
While the pale old woman made suggestions and pointed out important summaries, Nicci tried to devise a tactic that might work. She skimmed another account and mulled over what she knew. “They only come out during the day. They thrive under the light and hide or go dormant in darkness.” She looked at Cora. “Do you know where they go? How I can find their lair?”
The old woman shook her head. A gray-brown strand of hair dangled down the side of her wrinkled face.
Nicci tried another idea. “Can we attract them at night? Could we call them here, under our terms?”
Cora reacted with horror. “Why would you do that? It is our only time of safety.”
An idea began to form in Nicci’s mind. “Because in daylight they can go anywhere, but what if we found a way to attract them to a dark place and trap them there?” Her lips curved in a hard smile. “That might be what we need.”
The old woman looked disturbed. “How would you hold them? What could possibly contain the zhiss?”
Nicci raised he
r hand to indicate the stone walls. “Your artisans bricked up the arches and windows, sealed these buildings, and the zhiss can’t penetrate the walls. A properly constructed stone structure could hold them in just as easily as blocking them out. We could imprison them permanently, maybe starve them.”
As she developed her plan, Nicci had to convince the Hidden People, for she would need their help. Since she was a gifted sorceress, the primary work of trapping and holding the zhiss would fall on her shoulders, but the Hidden People were a skilled workforce and she would need them all to pull together to craft a permanent prison. Or an execution chamber. It would be a swift and ambitious job, if she could contain the cloud long enough.
When Nicci explained her idea, Cora said, “Many of us may die.”
“You sacrifice one of your number every month just to keep them contained. Your people have been dying here for centuries, to no good effect. My idea may put an end to the threat forever. Isn’t that what you want?”
“It’s a risk we have to take,” the old woman admitted, “and I pray you succeed.”
“So do I,” Nicci said under her breath. “You have never seen someone like me.”
Over the course of planning, Nicci scouted the city every night, deciding on the right place to set her trap. She and Mrra prowled outside as soon as twilight fell. She required a large space to confine the swarming cloud, and the round sunken amphitheater seemed perfect for her purposes.
During their days inside the sealed buildings, the Hidden People scoured the imperial halls and chambers to find old mirrors that could be polished to bright reflectiveness, smooth sheets of gold and brass that gleamed in the torchlight. After all the preparations were made, Nicci began building what she called her “cauldron trap.”
As soon as the sun went down, the Hidden People bustled around the stage at the bottom of the crater amphitheater, installing the mirrors, the reflective metal sheets, and angled crystals, all of which sent out rainbow shards of torchlight. The work crews took advantage of every hour of darkness. They filled the center stage where Iron Fang had once shouted his speeches to a cowed populace. They piled a mound of dry wood, split logs, and thin branches, enough to make a blazing bonfire. All of the reflective surfaces would increase the brilliance a hundredfold.
