and his servants would already be dead. Thus, we cannot be sure that it will work. An unproven spell is a dangerous thing, Princess. For each way that it can go right, there are always one hundred ways for it to go wrong. We agree that it worked at one time, because as you know, Succiu once used it centuries ago to torture someone who would later become a member of the Conclave. But that person had been human, and our enemies are not. If the spell does not perform exactly as outlined in Failee’s grimoire, we might accomplish no more than to unleash an even greater monster of some kind. I suspect that even Failee was unsure how her original spell might have affected Khristos and the viper embryos when she first condemned them to that river in Hartwick Wood. If they were somehow further changed without her knowing, all of this might be a grave mistake.”
Faegan shook his head as he suddenly grasped a bizarre irony.
“For the first time in my more than three centuries of existence, I am forced to hope that one of the First Mistress’s spells works perfectly,” he said ruefully. “May the Afterlife forgive me for this use of the Vagaries.”
Shailiha looked back down at the southernmost stream and saw that the telltale phenomena described by theInkai were not appearing.
“We have failed here,” she said. “We must search the next branch.”
After Shailiha shouted out new orders to Traax, the Minion commander relayed them to Sigrid and the war party turned north. Soon they were at the shoreline where the middle stream met the sea. Again theJin’Saiou nodded to Faegan, and the wizard started the painstaking process anew. After more subtle matter had been dropped onto the water, Faegan again recited the incantation. Tense moments passed as the war party hovered, every eye trained on the dark, rippling water below.
Suddenly Shailiha saw the glow of the craft appear. The process was mesmerizing. Little by little, azure dots of light were gathering atop the surface of the tributary. Before she knew it there were thousands of them, each one signifying the exact place where a Blood Viper lurked in the water below.
Then her blood ran cold as she realized that the multitudes of haunting azure dots were slowly moving toward the restless ocean. In mere moments the first of them would enter the Sea of Whispers and perhaps escape forever. Desperate to start the second part of the process, she turned toward Faegan.
“We’ve found them!” she shouted. “But we have little time! You must call Failee’s spell before they reach the sea!”
Everyone in the war party knew how vitally important it was that Faegan perform the next part of the attack flawlessly, lest the monsters and their terrible leader escape them forever. Summoning all of his power, Faegan began reciting Failee’s centuries-old incantation:
’Tis your blood that is sought; ’Tis heat to be wrought; No god or man can end my toil; No savior may cause this enchantment to spoil; I command your blood essence to writhe and churn; You shall feel your very soul to burn.
Her heart in her throat, Shailiha stared breathlessly at the water.
CHAPTER XLVII
STANDING ON THE FOREDECK OF THETAMMERLAND, Tristan could scarcely believe his eyes. The scene unfolding all around him was overwhelming, proving once and for all that the War of Attrition was indeed conducted on a scale that he and his fellow Eutracians could once have scarcely dreamed of. Yet here they were, about to become a part of it. Simply contemplating the coming fight caused his newly gifted blood to pulse stronger.
Two days had passed since theInkai granted him their versions of the banned forestallments. Just as the elders had feared, the ordeal had almost destroyed him. Twice during the agonizing process he nearly died, his heart beating so wildly that it almost ruptured as Wigg, Tyranny, Jessamay, and theInkai watched and worried.
Only Mashiro’s craft skills kept Tristan from perishing as the spells first assaulted his blood, then finally became part of it. The process complete, he had lain senseless in his private quarters for four more hours before regaining consciousness.
Tristan had awoken weakened and confused. Wigg, Jessamay, Tyranny, and Hoshi were all there waiting to welcome him back to the world. He spent the remainder of that day and night resting. On the following morning he felt much like his old self again and he had demanded a hearty breakfast.
With Wigg and Jessamay looking on, Tristan spent the following day with Mashiro as theInkai elder explained his new gifts and instructed him in how to summon and dismiss them. Tristan’s new abilities sounded so awesome that he and the other Eutracians could scarcely believe what they were hearing. Along with his instruction to Tristan, Mashiro added a grave warning: Because you are still unaccustomed to your powers, they are not to be summoned until they are needed on the battlefield, he cautioned theJin’Sai. And only on Hoshi’s orders, he added.
Later that day, theInkai granted him, Wigg, Jessamay, Astrid, and Phoebe the much-needed language forestallments that allowed them to speak both Shashidan and Rustannican. The Eutracian mystics were astounded at how suddenly their new gifts took hold, causing them to involuntarily slip from one of the three languages now at their command into another one almost without knowing. Smiling at their ineptitude, Mashiro told them that with practice, their control over the languages would soon improve.
The next morning, Tristan stood squarely on the deck of theTammerland watching the Shashidan forces gather for the coming fight. He understood all too well that he was an irrevocably changed man. Never again would he return to the lesser being that he had once been, nor could he envision wishing to so do. It was his destiny to take part in this fight.
Tristan had never felt so powerful, so alive. He knew instinctively that even his gift ofK’Shari paled when compared to the new powers flowing through his veins. He felt like a towering giant among men, as if his will alone could shape the world and its events to his liking. Moreover, it was all he could do to keep from using his gifts here and now. They beckoned to him, begging to be used. But as much as these new feelings enthralled him, they also worried him.
He wisely confided in Wigg and Mashiro his desire to loose his gifts prematurely. As Wigg listened, he became very concerned. Mashiro did his best to reassure them by saying that theInkai believed this was to be expected. Given the nature of theJin’Sai ’s blood and the immense power it now held, how could one imagine otherwise? he asked.
He went on to say that theInkai also believed that Tristan’s mind would overcome these temptations, just as they guessed Vespasian’s had done. Although Tristan’s blood had been granted these unprecedented gifts, it had not been fundamentally changed. Tristan’s great need to be errant was not dangerous, Mashiro added, provided theJin’Sai controlled his new gifts to the best of his abilities and employed them only in the service of the Vigors. By granting him the banned forestallments, theInkai had placed more trust in him than in any other human being that had ever existed in the history of Shashida. Listen to Hoshi and use your new gifts wisely, Mashiro said, lest the world suffer at your hand rather than be helped by it.
With the arrival of Tristan’s new gifts, everyone seemed to regard him with awe and apprehension. The Shashidans bowed deeper toward him, and when they spoke their tones conveyed even greater humility and reverence. Even his fellow Eutracians seemed unsure how to behave in his presence. Such behavior toward him seemed only to heighten his newfound sense of separateness.
Hearing boot heels strike the deck, Tristan turned to see Wigg approaching. Like Tristan, the First Wizard had chosen to go to war wearing his customary Eutracian clothes. Although he and Tristan had become accustomed to Shashidan garb, today their old clothes felt more appropriate. Tristan’s worn leather vest, black breeches, and knee boots seemed like old friends, as did his dreggan and his throwing knives. Like Tristan’s clothes, Wigg’s boots and worn gray robe had been spotlessly cleaned. For a long time the two friends simply stared in awe at the gathering Shashidan forces.
“Have you ever seen the like?” Tristan asked, using the Shashidan dialect.
Remaining silent for a time, Wigg placed his hands into opposite robe sleeves.
“There simply are no words,” he finally answered in kind.
As the Shashidan war forces gathered around the two Black Ships, Wigg empowered theTammerland while
