He ran his hand along the easternmost part of the map as if he could draw topography on the scarred desk. “No distant travelers have come through here in such a long time.” He pointed to the middle of the map. “But we know of other settlements upriver, ports, mining towns, farming villages.” He shuddered visibly. “And in the other direction there are islands out at sea, rugged windswept rocks where the Norukai live.” He bit off his words, then said with hollow calmness, “I would not suggest you go there.”
“We won’t,” Nathan said. “We are looking for Kol Adair.”
Nicci asked, “Can you supply us with provisions, packs, garments, tools for our journey? We lost almost everything in the shipwreck.”
“Renda Bay owes you far more than we can ever repay,” said Thaddeus.
“If you send your emissaries up to D’Hara bearing our message to Lord Rahl, that will be all the payment I require.”
* * *
After resting one more day and helping the villagers collect the ragged debris of their lives, the three set out again. They all wore clean clothes. Bannon’s sword, now sharpened and oiled, hung at his side in its plain scabbard. Nathan’s ornate sword had also been cleaned, polished, and sharpened.
Bannon seemed troubled as they set off on the road. “Can we make a slight detour to the graveyard? There’s something I want to do.”
“We already paid our respects to the fallen, my boy,” Nathan said.
“It’s more than that,” Bannon said.
Nicci saw how the young man had changed after his experience here. He no longer seemed so cheerful and naive … or maybe his cheeriness had always been an act. She said, “I do not wish to delay for long.”
“Thank you,” the young man said.
They followed the curve of the hill until they reached the line of new graves, the fresh-packed earth that held thirty-nine resting bodies. Bannon went straight to the part of the burial ground crowded with wooden posts. Twenty-two new ones had been pounded into the ground, each etched with the name of a villager taken by the slavers.
Bannon clenched his fists as he walked among the posts until he chose one—a clean, bright post of freshly sanded wood. On one side, a villager had carved the name MERRIAM.
Bannon dropped to his knees on the opposite side of the post. He pulled out his sword and held it awkwardly, using the point to gouge three letters into the fresh wood. Tears sparkled in his eyes as he looked at the name.
IAN.
Nathan gave him a solemn nod.
Bannon stood again, and placed the sword back in its sheath. “Now I’m ready to go.”
CHAPTER 27
They followed the river inland from the town of Renda Bay, looking forward to “Lands Unknown”—the farms, logging towns, and mining settlements that Thaddeus had described for them. Someone along the way would know more about Kol Adair and give them guidance.
Occasional flatboats drifted by on the river as farmers or merchants brought goods down to Renda Bay. The flatboat pilots used poles to guide the loaded vessels downstream. Some of them would wave in greeting, while others just stared at the strangers walking the river path.
After the ordeal with the shipwreck, Nicci felt as if they had been given a fresh start. Her long black traveling dress was cleaned and mended; Nathan wore the homespun shirt from Phillip, and Bannon also had a new set of clothes.
As they went farther up the river valley, Bannon seemed to recover his pleasant fantasy of life again, but now Nicci realized that his smile and his optimism were just a veneer. She saw through it now. At least he no longer tried to flirt with her; she had frightened that foolish attraction out of him.
But the young man wasn’t entirely daunted. He approached her, striking up a conversation. “Sorceress, it occurred to me that like prophecy, wishes sometimes come about in unexpected ways. And your wish did come true.”
She narrowed her blue eyes. “What wish?”
“The wishpearl I gave you on the Wavewalker. Remember?”
“I threw it overboard to appease the selka queen,” Nicci said.
“Think of the chain of events. After you made the wish, we sailed south, the selka attacked, and that storm wrecked the ship, but we found the stone marker, which confirmed the witch woman’s prophecy. Then we made our way to Renda Bay, where we fought the slavers, and the town leader told us what he knew about Kol Adair. See, that was your wish—that it would help us get to Kol Adair.” He spread his hands. “It’s obvious.”
“Your logic is as straightforward as a drunkard walking down an icy hill in a windstorm,” she said. “I make my own wishes come true, and I make my own luck. No selka magic bent the events of the world around my desires just to put us here at this exact place. We would have found our way in any case.”
“Wishes are dangerous, like prophecy,” Nathan interjected, walking close beside them. “They often lead to unexpected results.”
“Then I will be careful not to make any more frivolous wishes,” Nicci said. “I am the one who determines my own life.”
* * *
They continued inland for days and found several settlements, large and small. While Nathan and Nicci gathered any information they could, they explained about the D’Haran Empire and about Richard’s new rule. The isolated villagers listened to the news, but such obscure and distant politics had little bearing on their daily lives. Nathan marked the names of the villages on his hand-drawn map, and they moved on.
Once, when he introduced himself as the wizard Nathan Rahl, the villagers asked for a demonstration of his powers, and he faltered in embarrassment. “Well, magic is a special thing, my friends, not to be used for mere games and showmanship.”
When Nicci heard this, she flashed him a skeptical expression. When Nathan had possessed his powers, he did indeed use them for just that, whenever he considered it useful. Now, however, he had to pretend that such demonstrations were beneath him. When the village children learned that Nicci was a sorceress, they pestered her instead, although one glance from her made them quickly reconsider their requests.
Bannon offered to do tricks with his sword, but they were not interested.
As they left that village, Nathan quietly vowed, “I won’t mention my magic again … not until I am made whole again after Kol Adair. For now I don’t even dare make the attempt.”
“You should still try,” Nicci said as they continued along the forested road. “Can you feel your Han at all? You may have lost your gift, but you could regain it.”
“Or I might cause a terrible disaster.” Nathan’s expression turned grayish. “I didn’t tell you what happened in Renda Bay when I … I tried to heal a man.”
They walked along a good path up into foothills, as the main river branched and they took the north fork. “I saw you helping some of the injured,” Nicci said.
“You didn’t see everything.” Nathan waved at a fly in front of his face. “Bannon saw me … but we have not discussed it since.”
The young man blinked. “I saw so much that night, I think my eyes were filled with blood and I couldn’t absorb it all. I don’t remember … I don’t remember much at all.”
“One of the Norukai spears had pierced the man’s chest, and he was dying,” Nathan said. “Even the healer women knew he couldn’t be saved. But I felt a hint of my magic. I was desperate, and I wanted to prove myself. I had seen you save the town with your gift, Sorceress, and I knew how much I could have helped. I was furious and I grasped at any small spark of magic. I felt something and tried to use it.”
He paused on the path, seemingly out of breath, although the route was quite level. He wiped sweat from the side of his neck. The weight of his tale seemed so great a burden that he couldn’t walk and speak at the same time. “I wanted to heal him … but much has changed inside me. Dear spirits, I don’t understand my gift anymore. I thought I touched my Han, and I released what small amount of power I could find. It should have been Additive Magic. I should have been able to knit the man’s tissues together, repair his lungs, stop the bleeding.” Nathan’s azure eyes glistened with tears.