The night held a collective sigh of relief as the Norukai counted their dead and tended their wounds. Down in the water where many bodies floated, sharks appeared, drawn by the blood to clean up the remains, now that the serpent god had departed.
Bannon and Lila still gripped their swords among the other captives, ready to defend themselves. The slaves huddled, numb with terror, though some were ready to fight with confiscated weapons. They clearly had no chance, however. As Bannon and Lila watched, the Norukai closed in on them, battered and in no mood for further resistance. King Grieve pushed the other raiders aside and glowered at Bannon and Lila. Something inside Grieve seemed to have broken. His face twisted as he spoke to Bannon. “Chalk liked you.”
“I don’t know why,” Bannon said. “He told me about visions, but not what he saw.”
Wrestling with his agony, Grieve squeezed the handle of his war axe. Bannon looked at Lila and knew she was calculating whether they would let themselves be captured again or fight to the death here and now with a handful of frightened slaves as their only allies. Even with so many raiders killed during the selka attack, the Norukai still outnumbered them many times over. Lila was ready to die to defend him, to kill King Grieve, but Bannon couldn’t bear to see her throw her life away. He said in a harsh whisper, “Not now.”
Grieve growled at her. “I am in no mood for more fighting, but I will kill you and be done with it, if you give me any reason.”
Still tense, Lila looked at Bannon, then laid down her sword but without showing any hint of defeat. “I don’t want them to kill you, boy. There will be another time.”
As he surrendered his sword next to hers, shuddering with exhaustion and fear, Bannon hoped she was right.
CHAPTER 48
To make her preparations before General Utros’s army arrived, Verna studied the sheer cliffs around the main alcove. She and Nathan had discussed the fine points of the Weeping Stone spell, interpreting the complex nuances of how to soften the rock and bury the entire archive like fossils in limestone. It was not surprising that the naive student Elbert had caused a disaster. Such magic was like a viper that could strike if not held properly.
“The knowledge here could change the world in countless ways.” Nathan sounded forlorn. “The wizards in ancient times knew so much more than we do, and they had such great powers. In the right hands, the lore in Cliffwall could make so many lives better, heal terrible diseases, prevent disasters, bring food to starving villages. If only the right person used it for benevolent reasons?.?.?.” He stroked his chin. “That is always the catch, isn’t it? If General Utros and his sorceresses use the archive to dominate the world, the amount of suffering they would cause is inconceivable.”
Verna shared his deep concern. “I will use the spell only as a last resort, if all our other defenses collapse. But I am glad we have this option. Either way, General Utros will never possess this archive.”
Nathan awkwardly placed a paternal arm around her shoulder. “I couldn’t agree more, my dear, but I am worried about you.”
She responded with a defiant smile. “I am no bumbling novice, Nathan. I can cast a protective web, and we will verify that all spell-forms are properly connected within the walls and tunnels. There is enough sorcerer’s sand for us to lay down the boundaries and through-lines I will need.”
She let out a quiet sigh and let him keep his hand on her shoulder. “You and I have often been at odds, but trust me in this. I know you and the other gifted defenders will do your best to block that army, and I would never underestimate your abilities. But if you and the D’Haran soldiers have to retreat, I need to be here to trigger the spell. Just in case.”
Inside the great overhang, she and Nathan gazed out at the canyon below, which was now nearly empty except for Zimmer and his soldiers preparing their last stand. All the traps had been laid, the spells from the archive put in place; all the defenders had taken their positions.
Verna said, “I think I have the easy part.”
Dangling by ropes, agile acolytes added a few grains of the prismatic sand at appropriate places around the high, sheltered archive. They found niches in the cliff or chipped out special gouges that would hold the grains in the right place to anchor the complex lines of magic. Verna had specified the correct placement deep within the tunnels as well. They had envisioned the three-dimensional complicated connections of the spell-form that wove through the entire library complex. The teams used every last grain of sand that remained in the porcelain urn.
And now Verna was ready.
*
Astride his black stallion, General Utros stared ahead at the maze of high canyon walls that closed in around him and his army. The late-morning sun shone down through a dusty sky, driving the shadows against the cliffs. Next to him, Ruva smiled. Her body was covered with bright paint—black, crimson, white, all the significant markings she needed.
Following guidance from Ava’s spirit to find Cliffwall, the army moved through the labyrinth. The high walls amplified the sound of hooves on the rocky ground, the jingle of tack, the men adjusting their armor, shields, and weapons. The murmur of excited voices echoed around him. They were almost to their destination.
Utros shifted his heavy helmet. “They know we are coming.”
Ruva’s smile hardened. “Even my magic cannot hide an army of so many troops, beloved Utros.”
“Don’t even try. I want them to see us. I want them to fear us.”
Thanks to Ava, the general knew that they would find the hidden canyon, although Nathan Rahl or some other gifted person had cast enough distortion and confusion that even the spirit of the dead sorceress had not been able to learn as much as he had hoped. The details of the defenses were unknown to him.
Riding ahead, his scouts had located the secret entrance, the narrow stone bottleneck that led to the Cliffwall canyon and its towering archive. Six of the scouts had never returned, presumably captured or killed, but he had plenty of men to spare. Two intrepid scouts had returned with a report, and that was enough.
His vanguard marched forward in a wedge, the first thousand soldiers pressing down the canyon. They were prepared to fight through any defenses to reach the secret archive. No matter how many of them died, Utros could keep pouring in thousands more until they overwhelmed the cliff city. Even the most determined resistance could not stand up to that.
As they rode forward, Ava’s spirit shimmered in front of Utros. “When you conquer Cliffwall, we will possess all that powerful lore, spells that no one can resist, maybe not even the Keeper himself! We will be invincible.” She drifted close to her sister on the bay mare and overlapped Ruva with her insubstantial form. Again, the twins spoke in a harmonized double voice. “Togeth
er we will eradicate the last wizards of Ildakar, and then your army will sweep across the Old World with nothing to hinder us.”
“Tell me if you learn anything about their plans,” Utros said. Ava disappeared like a wisp of greenish steam.
The lead horses snorted and plodded along. Utros felt tense and excited, ready for what was sure to be a wholesale slaughter. Weapons ready, the first foot soldiers marched ahead in organized ranks. As the main canyon narrowed toward the bottleneck, the companies had to fall behind one another, becoming a human battering ram instead of a wave.
Ruva fidgeted in her saddle. “Let us go closer. We are almost at the entrance to the canyon.”
Utros urged his black stallion forward. When the front ranks approached the high, sheer wall that was really a hidden crack leading into the main canyon, the soldiers stumbled to a halt, milling about, not sure where to go.
The general waited as word came back down the line, passed from company commander to company commander. “The wall is solid, General. There is no opening as we were told. It’s a blind end to a box canyon.”
“Not possible,” he said.
Ruva interjected, “My sister saw the opening. It has to be there.”
He and the sorceress worked their way forward among the armored men. From what Utros could see, the smooth stone wall did indeed look impenetrable. “Have they sealed it somehow? Closed this canyon?”
“If so, then we will blast through it.” Ruva glared at the barrier. “But I sense something.?.?.?.” She swept her gaze over the towering uneven surface, then extended a finger and traced lines through the air as she amplified her focus. “The people of Cliffwall are good at hiding. There is something here other than stone.” Then she laughed. “It is not a solid barrier, my general! Just an illusion, a camouflage field.”
She flung out both hands and released her gift, sending ripples through the air. A line of distortion washed across the cliff barricade as if a thousand spirit forms had been released. The curtain of imaginary rock buckled and faded under Ruva’s onslaught, no more than a simple mirage. “Now we can enter.”
