Faegan leaned forward in his chair, his eyes alive with curiosity. "I never knew about any of this," he said. "It must have all happened after the Coven captured me."
"Yes," Wigg said.
"Where have the Black Ships been all this time?" Abbey asked. "And can they really do everything that Tyranny and Shailiha claim?"
"Indeed they can," Wigg answered. "They are an absolute marvel of the craft." He shook his head, frowning. "Near the end of the war, all seven Black Ships disappeared while on a mission to engage part of the Coven's fleet. We assumed that they had been overwhelmed by Failee's armada and sent to the bottom of the sea."
Wigg rubbed his chin. "And now, it seems, they and their captains have resurfaced.
"Even the Black Ships cannot fly on their own. It takes one skilled in the craft to make each do so. The training is long and arduous-and was known only by a few."
Wigg looked grimly around the table. "Aside from Jessamay and me, everyone who knew how to fly a Black Ship is long dead-and yet there are these seven mysterious captains. Then there is this business about their uniforms looking eerily familiar. Our naval uniforms during the Sorceresses' War looked much like those worn by the late royal guard. Given all of that, who else could these captains be, eh? It all fits!"
Turning, Wigg looked into the aging face of his beloved daughter. Every time he gazed upon her now, his heart broke a little more.
"And now, too, we may at long last have a clue to the riddle of the Necrophagians," Wigg said. For several long moments the room was quiet.
"Please explain," Faegan said.
"For as long as we can remember, no vessel has been able to sail more than fifteen days into the Sea of Whispers," Wigg answered. "But when the Directorate banished the Coven three centuries ago, Failee found a way to cross-by way of her so-called bargain of tenfold times four. She promised that in the future she would pay forty dead bodies to the Necrophagians every time she wished to traverse the sea. But there has always been a part of this tale that bothered me."
"And what is that?" Traax asked. Wincing a bit, he adjusted the sling that supported his right arm.
"Why would the Necros agree, when they could have just as easily devoured the Coven right then and there?" Wigg asked. "For all they knew, her promise was no more than a trick, and Failee might never return. Indeed, it took a full three centuries for her to prepare for Succiu's return to Eutracia to steal the Paragon and to kidnap Shailiha. By then, the Necrophagians must surely have thought they had been duped."
"So what is the answer?" Jessamay asked.
"At the time we banished the Coven, Failee already knew that the Necrophagians were there," Wigg answered. "And she must have had some kind of partial hold over them."
Slapping one hand upon the arm of his chair, Faegan cackled. "By the Afterlife, you've figured it out!" he shouted. "Finally-after all of these years! Well done, I say!"
Tristan scowled at them both. "Figured what out?" he demanded.
"It's really quite simple," Faegan answered, wiggling his bushy eyebrows up and down. "The current-day Necrophagians were at one time the captains and crews of Wigg's Black Ships. Failee caught them at sea and she used the craft to condemn them to an eternity deep below the waves, forever feasting on the dead for their sustenance. And that has been their punishment ever since. I'm right, aren't I?"
"Partially," Wigg said. "But how do you explain the fact that even long before the Sorceresses' War, no vessel could sail for more than fifteen days across the Sea of Whispers? The Necrophagians must already have been there; Failee only added to their numbers."
"But then how did the first Necrophagians get there?" Adrian asked.
Suddenly everyone heard Faegan take a quick breath. "But of course," he said. "It's all so clear now."
All eyes turned to look at him. Even he seemed stunned by his sudden conclusion.
"It's all a part of the War of Attrition that the preface of the Tome speaks of," he whispered. "The great struggle that took place aeons ago between the Heretics of the Guild and the Ones Who Came Before. There is a passage about that ancient war-one that had long eluded my comprehension. Now I understand."
Closing his eyes, Faegan called upon his gift of Consummate Recollection. The members of the Conclave watched and waited. Eyes still closed, Faegan began to recite a passage.
"During the War of Attrition, many of us practicing the Vigors were resigned to the sea by those who would seek to divide us and attempt to cause the rise of the dark side of the craft. Those vanquished souls were left with no recourse except to exist in the cold depths and to feed upon human carrion. But one day those of endowed blood-either of the Vigors or of the Vagaries-may acquire sufficient knowledge of the craft to bring them up and turn them to their cause."
Faegan opened his eyes. "Do you understand now?" he asked. "The original Necrophagians were members of the Ones who were captured by the Heretics of the Guild during the War of Attrition. Instead of being killed outright, they were condemned to eternal torture."
Astounded, Tristan sat back in his chair. Suddenly another thought hit him.
"And if the captains of the Black Ships can be recalled after three hundred years, then perhaps…" The prince didn't dare give voice to his suspicion.
"Then perhaps members of the Ones still suffer as Necrophagians to this very day," Shailiha finished for him. "They await their descendants of the Vigors to acquire sufficient knowledge to free them."
Wide-eyed, she looked first at Faegan, then at Wigg. "Could it really be true? Could there really be members of the Ones still living among us, albeit in an entirely different form?"
"Very possibly," Wigg answered. "But even if it is true, we do not have the knowledge required to free them."
"But Wulfgar was apparently able to free the captains of the Black Watch," Shailiha countered. "And despite the quality of his blood, he is still very new to the craft. So where did he acquire such training?"
"Presumably from the same source he has acquired all of his other gifts," Wigg answered. "The Scroll of the Vagaries. Remember, the Scrolls were written to supply 'shortcuts,' if you will, to one's training in the craft in the form of Forestallments. Your ability to commune with the fliers of the fields is a perfect example of this, Princess. You have never been classically trained, yet you are able to perform that feat. And unlike us, Wulfgar has an entire group of highly trained consuls to research the Scroll for him. While it's true that we have the acolytes to help us wade through the Scroll of the Vigors, their skills don't yet match those of the consuls. And don't forget that at least one third of our scroll was burned when Wulfgar tried to pollute the Orb of the Vigors. There is no telling how many secrets turned to ash that night. I must say that I fear that Wulfgar is far ahead of us in his understanding of the Scrolls-at least the one in his possession."