“But one acorn was saved, one last seed from the Eldertree. As the armies cut down the sweeping forests, they drove all the energy of life back into the Eldertree until at last it was condensed into this single acorn, the final spark of the primeval forest. All the energy of the Eldertree and all its offspring concentrated into that single acorn, stored there, where it could someday be released in an explosion of incomprehensibly powerful life itself.”
Nathan sucked in a quick breath of air. “And you think that might be powerful enough to kill the Lifedrinker?”
“It must be,” Victoria insisted. “But the more powerful he becomes, the more difficult the task will be. Soon it will be too late. At the moment, I believe that Roland, or what is left of Roland, will be no match for the last spark of the Eldertree.”
“Again, how does this help us?” Nicci said. “Do you believe the acorn truly exists? If so, where can we find it? I have read many books and found no mention of the legend or the seed itself.”
Nathan also shook his head. “Nothing in my studies either.”
“But I remember,” Victoria said. “It is in one of my memorized books. The acorn of the Eldertree was locked away here in Cliffwall, deep in a vault … somewhere over there.” She indicated the misshapen tower that was partially melted into a glassy lump at the side of the alcove. “It is still here.”
CHAPTER 50
Under Simon’s guidance, workers from the other canyon settlements brought their tools to Cliffwall and set to work trying to reach the lower levels of the damaged tower, hoping to find where the Eldertree acorn had been stored. In the cool, dusty underground, some of the access passages had slumped, the stone melting like wax to clog shut the openings, but the determined laborers used hammers and chisels to penetrate the hard slickrock.
A solid wall of vitreous rock had flowed over the opening, sealing off an entire basement level. Laborers were already hard at work, hammering and hauling away the rubble of broken rock. A grime-streaked stonecutter groaned and turned to Simon. “It’ll take many days to carve even a small hole through that, sir.”
After they followed the workers down into the deep underground passages, ducking and crawling into the damaged vaults, Nathan looked at Nicci. “Sorceress, surely a barricade of solid stone is not too great a challenge for you?”
“No, it is not. Allow me—we are in a hurry.” The workers backed away, curious, and Nicci reached out to touch the smooth wall of melted rock. When she released her magic, the stone that had flowed once, now flowed again. She did not need to resort to Subtractive Magic, but was able to work the material like clay, not destroying the rock but simply moving it. She lifted handfuls of fluid stone like a ditch digger slogging through mud. Although she expended a great effort, Nicci succeeded in carving out a tunnel, widening it, lifting the ceiling, and burrowing farther ahead.
After using her magic to move aside ten feet of stone blockage, Nicci began to doubt there truly was another chamber on the other side of the rock. What if the clumsy and untrained wizard had solidified the entire archive with his disastrous accident? Soon, though, she felt the stone grow thin in front of her, then break like an eggshell, and she pushed her way into a dark, claustrophobic vault, exactly where the plans suggested they look. Inside, the air was thick and stale, sealed away for years.
Cupping her hand, Nicci ignited a light spell so she could see the walls dotted with cubbyholes carved into the slickrock. She shone the diffuse glow around the chamber, seeing shadows dance around reverent display shelves that were filled with valuable, mysterious objects, artifacts, sculptures, amulets, all of them covered with dust.
Nathan pushed in behind her, and he straightened, fastidiously brushing stone dust from his borrowed scholar robes. “Dear spirits, this is exactly what we were looking for. Is the Eldertree acorn here?”
Simon and Victoria followed him, and they stared in amazement. “Exactly where my memmers said it would be.” She flashed a sharp glance at Nicci. “You should have believed me, Sorceress.”
“I prefer to have proof,” Nicci said, not responding to the other woman’s edgy tone. “Now that I have proof, I believe you.”
Impatient, they moved around the museum vault, inspecting the marvelous items that had been sealed away for millennia. They searched among the exotic artifacts, carved vases and small marble figurines, bright glass vials, amulets worked in gold and jewels, fired-clay medallions covered with a jade-green glaze—and a wooden chest no wider than Nicci’s hand. She felt drawn to it, sensing an energy in the air, a power barely contained within the small box. When she removed it from the alcove, she felt a warm pulse through her palm. “This holds something very important.”
“That is it,” Victoria said, pushing closer. “I remember the descriptions from the original writings.”
Nicci opened the lid and looked at cushioned folds of purple velvet, which embraced a single acorn that seemed to be made of gold.
Nathan grinned like a young boy. “Quite extraordinary. The Lifedrinker will be no match for that. Now we have the weapon we need.”
“Yes.” Nicci closed the small chest. “I do.”
* * *
Nicci was impatient to leave immediately. “The Lifedrinker’s power grows every day. This mission will be more dangerous than our last expedition, but I will go.” The scholars could study the other artifacts down in the vault in due time; if she defeated the evil wizard, they would have all the time in the world. Nicci removed the acorn from its ornate chest, wrapping it in the scraps of purple velvet so she could tuck it into the pocket of her black dress.
As they returned to the main buildings of the archive, Nicci considered what she would need to do before departure. Aside from packing food and water, she didn’t need to make other preparations. Bannon and Thistle joined her, as curious scholars gathered around, eager to see the Eldertree acorn.
Victoria looked at Nicci, both stern and uneasy. Her brow furrowed as she spoke to the rest of the scholars. “I know she is the most powerful sorceress among us, but I am reluctant to give such a sacred treasure—the essence of life itself—to a woman who calls herself Death’s Mistress.”
Nicci continued her preparations, ignoring the memmer woman’s objection. “It must be done, and I am the one to do it.”
With a sidelong glance at Victoria, Simon suggested, “Every person in Cliffwall knows that this is a great battle. We can send scholars and trainee wizards to accompany you. We can be your army against the Lifedrinker.”
Nicci looked at the too-young scholar-archivist. “You would all be slaughtered. None of you here is fully trained in magic. The risk is far too great.”
Thistle ran up, excited. She had stars in her honey-brown eyes. “Nicci will do it, I know she will. Do you think it will restore the valley to the way it was?”
“Killing the Lifedrinker will end the spreading blight,” she said. She did not want to give the girl unrealistic hopes. “But the wound in the world is severe. It will take some time to recover, even after he is defeated.”
“I need to go with you,” the girl insisted. “I have to help restore the valley.”