“I will place the viper embryos and their morphed lord into a river flowing through Hartwick Wood,” he quoted from the grimoire.“And toward that river I will try and draw the bulk of the Directorate’s forces. That is where I and my sisters will make our final stand. Should we lose and the river run red with Vagaries blood, I will know that I have failed. Then and only then will the Blood Vipers and the Viper Lord arise to take vengeance in my stead.”
“What does it mean?” Traax asked.
“Hartwick Wood was where Failee wanted to start her final push toward victory,” Aeolus answered. “She needed the dense cover that the woods provide, and now we know that this other part of her plan was why she chose that place as well. But the Directorate didn’t take the bait. We chose to meet her out in the open on the fields of Farplain. It would prove to be the largest battle of the war, and we won the day. Even so, it was not the final conflict.”
“From what we have learned, it seems that endowed, left-leaning blood must somehow have entered the river that Failee mentions in her grimoire,” Faegan said. “With no formula of reversal to neutralize it, the spell keeping the embryos and the Viper Lord alive survived to this day. We suspect that the amount of blood entering the river needn’t have been large. In fact, the forestallment might have been activated by only a few random drops. We do not know whose blood it was or how it came to be in the river. In truth, we might never know. The blood might even have entered the water by accident rather than with malicious intent. We suspect that if Failee had been able to have her battle there, if she saw that it was going badly she would have released some of her own blood into the stream. Even if she had died, she would thus still have had her vengeance. After all these years the problem has become ours to deal with.”
Thinking about Faegan’s explanation, Tristan sat back in his chair. Failee’s plan had been brilliant. It had finally been put into action, perhaps by one or more persons of endowed blood who had no idea of the ramifications of what he or she had done. Despite the many loose ends regarding all of this, one thing was certain. The rampaging monsters and their wizard lord had to be killed. And it must be done soon, before more Eutracians died and before the Viper Lord’s depraved cannibalism perhaps increased his powers to such a degree that even the Conclave and the Minions could not overcome him.
Deciding to change the subject, Tristan momentarily shelved his concerns about the Blood Vipers. He gave Faegan a commanding look.
“What about the subtle matter?” he asked. “Do you have word about that as well?”
For the first time since the meeting started, Faegan smiled. Tristan knew that smile-it always appeared whenever the crippled wizard possessed a secret that others were eager to learn. Before answering, Faegan lifted Nicodemus from his lap and gently placed the cat on the floor, where he began affectionately winding his body and tail around Wigg’s legs. The First Wizard scowled.
“What we have learned about subtle matter will surely amaze you-perhaps even more than did our news about the Blood Vipers,” Faegan said, wiggling his eyebrows up and down for emphasis. “Prepare yourselves,” he warned, “for the tale that you are about to hear astonished even us old wizards.”
As Faegan talked, Tristan leaned forward, hungering for every word. In the end, the crippled wizard would be right.
CHAPTER XVI
MY WINGS ARE SO HEAVY, SIGRID THOUGHT. HOW I WOULDlove to give the order to land so that my warriors could rest and warm themselves beside a roaring fire. I have led this patrol for the last sixteen hours straight, and still we have not found the man-serpents. But we are Night Witches-we never surrender, we never give up. So I will lead my warriors onward until dawn. When the sun comes up, perhaps then we will have better luck finding the monsters that plague Eutracia.
Banking to the west, Sigrid knew that she needn’t confirm whether all her fellow Night Witches still followed her. They were among the best fliers that the Minion ranks had to offer, and each warrior’s resolve and talents equaled her own.
Forming these special reconnaissance groups had been Commander Duvessa’s idea, and theJin’Sai had heartily approved. Three such groups existed, and the moment one group landed, another took flight. Each consisted of thirty female Minion warriors who had volunteered from Duvessa’s elite fighting cadres. Specially trained in long-distance reconnaissance, the women had been chosen for their stamina, fighting skills, and sharp eyesight.
Since learning of the existence of Rustannica and Shashida, Tristan had used the Night Witches to check on Eutracia’s far-flung borders should thePon Q’tar mystics somehow find a way to cross the Tolenkas and attack Eutracia. News of the Night Witches’ exploits traveled fast, and the patrol groups were quickly becoming legendary. Even the few remaining Minion males who stubbornly grumbled about fighting alongside females had been heard whispering that if something needed to be found, send a Night Witch to find it, for she would not come home empty-handed.
Sigrid was cold and nearly exhausted. She knew that the warriors following her would be equally spent. Closing her eyes for a moment, she did her best to stretch her tired back muscles as she pulled her strong wings through the air, then used her stiff fingers to clear the gathering frost from her face and eyelashes.
It is so cold at this altitude, she thought, shivering slightly. But the higher we fly the farther we can see. If the man-serpents are ransacking another town, they might have set it ablaze as they did Birmingham. So it is the fires that we seek rather than the creatures themselves. At this altitude and in the dark of night, finding the man- serpents on the ground would be nearly impossible.
She let go a quick smirk. Even for Night Witches, she realized.
At twenty-five Seasons of New Life, Sigrid was young to command one of the newly formed reconnaissance groups. That was partly because she was highly qualified and partly because of the high attrition rate suffered by the Minions in their service to theJin’Sai. Although the warriors had fought well, their battles against Nicholas, Wulfgar, and Serena had taken a great toll. It would take many generations of peace to replace their numbers. And like many warriors, Sigrid believed that true peace would not prevail for a long time, if ever.
Duvessa formed the three groups because of her conviction that if Eutracia’s borders and coastline could be better watched, future battle losses might be averted. She had never agreed with the Conclave that all the Vagaries threats east of the Tolenkas had likely been quashed. She had been saddened to learn of the man- serpents, even though their sudden appearance had proved her right.
Because the duty would be hazardous, Duvessa insisted that only unattached females from her fighting cadres be allowed to volunteer for the new units. After selecting and training the ninety women herself, she had conducted a short ceremony during which she awarded each new scout a pair of silver threaded wings to be sewn onto her body armor at the right shoulder. The women wore them with pride, and the approving glances that soon came from unattached male warriors had been a welcome side effect. Being a member of the Night Witches quickly became a great honor.
Sigrid smirked again as she remembered how the name “Night Witches” had come into being. They did not patrol only at night, but the name had stuck anyway. It was Traax who had unwittingly granted them the title. Sigrid and her group had just returned from a long night patrol to descend near the massive Minion camp lying just outside the palace walls. As it was tonight, the sky had been dark and cloudless and the patrol had been a long one.
Landing tiredly on the dewy grass, Sigrid and her group had looked around to see Duvessa and Traax standing nearby, waiting to perform a surprise dawn inspection on the unsuspecting camp. Traax had walked over to speak with Sigrid. Eager to hear how Sigrid would comport herself, Duvessa accompanied him. Despite their great fatigue, Sigrid and her warriors came to swift attention.
Traax walked up and down their lines, looking them over with a steely gaze. He finally stopped before Sigrid and stared into her dark eyes. As she had been trained to do when approached by a superior officer, Sigrid squared her shoulders and focused her attention on a spot somewhere just above Traax’s left shoulder. As the Minion second in command admired the silvery wings embroidered into her leather body armor, Sigrid remained emotionless.
