Page 27 of Shroud of Eternity (Sister of Darkness: The Nicci Chronicles 2)

Thaddeus stood behind them, proud. “We’ll let you take some of the leftover meat for your voyage, Kenneth.”

“When would we be departing?” Oliver asked, looking forward to a night spent in a comfortable bed here in Renda Bay.

“Why, tomorrow, of course. First light,” Kenneth said. “I already have basic supplies aboard my boat—the Daisy. My water casks are full, and we’ll fish along the way, so there’ll be plenty to eat.”

Though he had taken only a few sips of the sour local wine, Oliver felt deeply weary. Kenneth’s pronouncement filled him with dismay. “We’re leaving at dawn?”

“You said you were in a hurry,” the fisherman said.

“We are,” Peretta added.

“We are,” Oliver agreed, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice, though he had hoped for a longer rest.

“Be at the Daisy an hour before dawn, so we can have everything ready before we get under way.”

Kenneth finished his large plate of food, then went back to the communal cauldron and ladled up a small mountain of yawning black mussels.

* * *

As the sun rose over the landmass to the east, spreading a bright orange veil over the rugged lands through which they had trekked, the fishing boat set off from Renda Bay and turned north. Kenneth spread the sail to catch a freshening breeze, and soon they were making good time.

When Oliver offered to help with chores, the fisherman just looked the young scholar up and down. “You’re so scrawny. I wager the most you’ve ever lifted is some heavy reading.”

Peretta giggled. “I think that’s true.”

Kenneth reassured them. “I’ve been piloting the Daisy alone for so long, I know how to do everything solo. I’ll call for help if I need it.”

As the day grew warm and the sun beat down on the open water, he pulled off his rough-spun shirt and tossed it into the cabin, standing bare-chested in the wind. Peretta turned away embarrassed. The bearded man laughed at her reaction. “As I said, I’ve sailed by myself for so long, I don’t see any reason to change just because I have company.”

“It’s perfectly fine,” Peretta said in a prim voice.

Later in the increasingly warm afternoon, Oliver pulled off his own shirt, and Peretta seemed amused by his rail-thin form. Kenneth gave him an appraising look. “It would be a courtesy if I let you build up your muscles.” He lowered his voice and spoke in a stage whisper, which he knew full well that Peretta could hear. “You’re not going to impress the young lady with a physique like that.”

“I am not trying to impress the young lady. In fact, since she knows my scholarly abilities, she should already be impressed.” Oliver knew he sounded defensive, but it was only because of his embarrassment.

Peretta came to his rescue. “I admit that Oliver is a mighty scholar.”

Kenneth let out a booming laugh. “Then you’re a better man than I. I never got around to reading any books. Too much fishing to do.”

By the time the sun had lowered to the horizon and the temperature dropped, Oliver felt a chill enhanced by the tingling burn on his skin. He had never been shirtless long enough to get sunburned before. He shivered and put his shirt back on.

The Daisy sailed northward for six days into uncharted waters, never straying far from shore. During all that time, they saw no other sailing ships, nor any cities, not even small settlements along the way.

“That’s why the fishing is so good up here—no competition,” Kenneth said, as he hauled up another net of flopping silvery creatures, which he dumped on the deck. He sorted out only the ones he said were the best tasting and threw the rest back overboard. “If we’re hungry, we’ll catch more tomorrow.”

Kenneth had eaten all of the leftover roast goat in the first two days. Though he had offered some to the two travelers, Oliver and Peretta knew how much he fancied the delicacy, and so they contented themselves with seafood—which was, to canyon dwellers like themselves, equally exotic.

“I suppose this is the Phantom Coast,” said Kenneth, after two more days of sailing, seeing only empty coastline. “Once we’re past it, we’ll start seeing cities.”

One morning they awoke to fog so thick it felt suffocating. Oliver and Peretta stood out on deck marveling at the mist as if it were the most wondrous thing they had ever seen. Kenneth found their reaction baffling until Oliver explained that fog never occurred in the desert.

“Enjoy it while you can,” he said. “Right now, it’s a damned nuisance. Can’t see where we’re going.” He stood at the Daisy’s bow, peering ahead, guiding them slowly. Oliver joined him, squinting for hidden obstacles, but his vision was uncertain in the best of times, so he was little help. Peretta fetched a blanket from the cabin below and wrapped it around her narrow shoulders as she stood next to them.

They were all together as the thick mists parted, as if a sculptor were yanking away a veil to reveal his newest creation. Peretta gasped as they saw the silhouette, and then sharper details, of a huge figure that loomed before them.

“Sweet Sea Mother!” Kenneth cried, then laughed at his own words. “It truly is.”

The stone form of a beautiful woman was carved from the living rock of an outcropping that towered above the water. She was enormous and beautiful. Tresses of stone hair flowed like the waves of an outgoing tide, rippling back into the cliff. Seawater crashed among the algae-covered rocks at the base of the bluff, where the sculpture ended. The statue showed the Sea Mother only from the waist up, as if she rose from the tide line, her arms outstretched, hands raised to the sky. Birds flitted around her carved face and rounded breasts.

The waves crashed, and the fog continued to clear. Kenneth adjusted course and drove the Daisy onward. “We’re almost to Serrimundi! That statue is legendary. Never thought I’d see it myself.”

As the mist dwindled, they spotted other fishing boats and larger sailing ships out in the water. Kenneth stared at the shoreline and the piled buildings in the hills leading from the harbor. “They make big cities here in the north.”

Oliver squinted, focusing on the tall temples, the great white buildings, impossible stone arches that rose high in the air and spanned the width of two different rivers that flowed through Serrimundi and spilled into the sea. A gold-topped bell tower was the tallest structure in view. “I have read about many huge cities in ancient times, but nothing prepared me for this.”

; “I thought the great library in Cliffwall was the largest building in the world,” Peretta said. “I was wrong.”

After traveling with her for so many weeks, Oliver was surprised to hear the young memmer admit her fallibility, but he did not tease her about it. They all stood together and marveled at the glorious sights as Kenneth guided the Daisy into the busy harbor. “Serrimundi. I promised I would take you here. This is where you wanted to be.”

“This is just a start,” Peretta said. She drew a deep breath and let it out, but she was smiling, as was Oliver.

“We still have a long way to go,” he said, but after all they had accomplished, he felt that the journey was no longer so impossible.

CHAPTER 20

When Fleshmancer Andre called him back to his studio, Nathan was more uneasy than excited, but he was determined to find a way to restore his gift. He was convinced that somewhere, somehow, Ildakar held the secret to making him whole again.

He was reluctant to tell Nicci about the strangeness he’d seen in the fleshmancer’s laboratory. No matter what Andre said, Nathan could not consider the man an inspired artist, not since witnessing the glee with which he fused the two mangled warriors, like a seamstress using scraps of cloth to make a patchwork quilt.

But he wasn’t required to admire or even like the person who helped him. The fleshmancer was eccentric, even horrific at times, but he was indeed a powerful wizard. Nathan only hoped Andre wouldn’t make him part of some twisted demonstration like the two-headed warrior he had created. Because he could.

If he needed the wizards of Ildakar to restore his gift, he would endure, but he was already planning how soon he and his companions could depart from this place. Despite how entranced he had been by the myths of Ildakar, Nathan now saw the tarnish on what should have been a shining metropolis. Reshaping an entire society was not something the three companions could do alone.…

He set off for the fleshmancer’s mansion. Perhaps today Andre would have a concrete solution for how to restore Nathan’s “heart of a wizard.” He passed through the distorted gardens, the uniquely shaped hedges, flowers, and stunted trees. As he walked along, Nathan forced a smile, clinging to a hint of optimism—it was something that young Bannon Farmer had taught him.