Page 12 of Death's Mistress (Sister of Darkness: The Nicci Chronicles 1)

Troubled expressions circled the young man’s face like eddy currents. “I suppose you’re right, and I want to thank you again. I owe you.” He fumbled in the pockets of his canvas trousers. “I brought you something. To show my gratitude.”

Nicci frowned at him. “That is not necessary. I saved your life because I was in the right place, and because I despise those who prey on the weak.” She had no intention of letting this young man fawn over her. “I do not want your gifts.”

He withdrew a tiny fold of soft cloth that he held in the palm of his hand. “But you have to take it.”

“It is not necessary,” Nicci repeated, in a harder voice this time.

“I think it’s necessary.” Bannon sounded more determined. He set his sword aside awkwardly, squatted against the side wall of the ship, and opened the cloth to reveal a pearl the size of a grieving woman’s tear.

“I do not want your gifts,” Nicci reiterated.

Bannon refused to listen. “On Chiriya Island I was taught manners and gratitude. My parents wanted me to be polite to everyone and to meet my obligations. You were there when I needed you. You saved me, and you punished those evil men. My father said that if I was to be an upstanding man, I had to show gratitude. It doesn’t matter whether you expect anything in return. I am required to give it to you.”

His breathing quickened as he extended the pearl. It seemed to be made of silver and ice. “This is a wishpearl, an advance on my wages. The captain says we’ll have plenty before the end of the voyage, but I wanted it now.” He nodded intently. “Right now it’s very rare, and I want to give it to you.”

A sailor on watch strolled past. “Rare?” His voice had a mocking tone. “That’s just a leftover. We unloaded two chests full of them in Tanimura—it’s how Captain Eli paid for his whole voyage. Soon enough, we’ll fill more chests on our way down south.”

Bannon whirled to face the eavesdropping sailor, clenching his hand tight over the wishpearl. “I was having a private conversation.”

“This is a ship, cabbage farmer! Think again if you expect privacy anywhere on board.”

Defensive, Bannon picked up his sword. “It’s worth something now, and it’s the last wishpearl. I want to give it to the sorceress, and if you don’t treat her well, she’ll crush your windpipe and stop your heart. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

The sailor laughed again and strolled off.

Though Nicci did not want the offering, she understood the complexities of obligations. She had indeed saved him, although she had not set out to do so. “If you’ve learned your lesson and taught yourself not to become a victim, Bannon Farmer, then that is demonstration enough of your gratitude.”

“Not enough for me,” Bannon insisted, and extended the wishpearl again. “Just take it. Throw it overboard if you like, but I will have done what was right. I fulfilled what I needed to do.”

The pearl felt slippery and cold in her fingertips. She rolled it back and forth on her palm with a fingertip. “If I accept this pearl, what does it obligate me to do for you? What are you expecting?”

Bannon flushed, deeply embarrassed. “Why, nothing! I would never ask … that isn’t what I was thinking!”

She hardened her voice. “As long as you’re clear on that.”

“It’s a wishpearl. Don’t you know what a wishpearl is?”

“I do not. Is there some significance other than being a pretty bauble?” Seeing that she had hurt him, Nicci grudgingly softened her voice. “It is a beautiful pearl. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a finer one.”

“It’s a wishpearl,” he repeated. “You should make a wish. It might be just a legend, but I’ve heard that wishpearls are concentrated dreams and you can unleash one if you wish on it.”

“Who would believe such a thing?” Nicci asked.

“Many people. That’s why the Wavewalker makes such a profit on each voyage. Captain Eli knows the location of a long line of special reefs. He harvests wishpearls and sells them in the port cities—at least that’s what the other sailors said.” He lowered his voice and ducked his chin. “This is still just my first voyage, you know.”

Nicci held the wishpearl, thought of where they were going, of the mission the witch woman had given to Nathan. No doubt it would be a long journey. She looked down at the icy silver sphere under the moonlight and said, “Very well, then I wish this voyage will help us get to Kol Adair.” She closed her fingers around the pearl and slipped it into a small pocket in her black dress.

CHAPTER 9

The Wavewalker headed south across open water, beyond sight of the coastline. Having spent so much time sitting alone in the Palace of the Prophets, Nathan was accustomed to sedentary days, but at least now he was out in the fresh air, inhaling brisk breezes.

In the distance, Tanimura was only a memory—a thousand years of memories, as far as he was concerned. Time to make new memories. Red possessed the life book of his past, but he had a new volume for a whole new set of adventures. Now, without the gift of prophecy, every twist and turn of the future was a surprise to him. Exactly as it should be.

The captain and his crew knew how to guide the ship even when the winds did not blow in a favorable direction. The well-practiced sailors understood the intricate puzzle of how the rigging and the sails worked together, furling and unfurling canvas to catch any wisp of wind. It was like magic to Nathan, even though there was no magic beyond a well-seasoned familiarity with the mysteries of the sea.

Most of the crew had been with Captain Eli on numerous voyages, and each sailor had a job to do—except for the five shirtless, tattooed men who lay about and did nothing. Watching their lazy behavior and attitude, Nathan lost respect for them, and not simply because they leered so much at Nicci. They displayed no interest in participating as members of the crew. He supposed the arrogant men must have their purpose, or the captain wouldn’t tolerate them on board. For now, though, they were primarily useless.

Bannon Farmer was the newest sailor on the Wavewalker and thus received the least-pleasant chores, dumping out slops, pumping the bilge, scrubbing the deck with a bucket of salt water and a stiff hand brush. But he performed the drudgery with a strange cheer.

Nathan watched the young man climb the ratlines and stand on the high platform to serve as a lookout, or crawl out on a yardarm to loose a sail. Once Bannon finished his chores, he would sit next to the wizard in the lazy afternoons, asking questions. “Have you really lived a thousand years? What fascinating things you must have done!”

Nathan patted the life book at his side. “I am more interested in what I have yet to do.” He gave the thin redhead an encouraging smile. “But I’ll be happy to tell you some of my stories, if you will tell me yours.”

Bannon’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t have any stories to tell. Nothing’s ever happened to me.” Looking away, he rubbed the discolored bruises on his face. “Why do you think I ran away from Chiriya? I had a perfect life there, loving parents, a warm home. But it was too quiet and calm for a man like me.” When he forced a smile, he winced from the scab on his still-healing split lip.

“I planted the cabbage fields in spring, weeded the cabbage fields all summer, harvested the cabbage in fall, and helped my mother make pickled cabbage for winter. There was no chance to have an adventure.” He lifted his chin. “My father was very sad to see me go, because he was so proud of me. Maybe someday I’ll return as a wealthy and famous adventurer.”

“Maybe.” Nathan detected something odd in the young man’s words.

Bannon brought out his own sword as he sat on deck next to Nathan. Its steel wasn’t perfect, but the edge was sharp enough. “I still think Sturdy will serve me well.”

Since the young man seemed to expect sage advice, Nathan decided to give it. “A blade can only serve its wielder if he knows how to use it. You serve the sword just as the sword serves you.” He withdrew his own blade from its scabbard to admire the fine workings on the grip, the inlaid gold, t

he gleam of the expensive steel. He had always felt that it made him look bold and gallant, a man to be reckoned with, a warrior as well as a wizard. Standing, he held the blade in front of him, watching the play of sunlight along its edge. He gave the young man a hard look. “Do you know how to use your sword, my boy?”

“I know how to swing a blade,” Bannon said.

“We’re not cutting cabbages. What if you were fighting against a bloodthirsty warrior from the Imperial Order? Or worse, one of the flesh-eating half men from the Dark Lands?”

Bannon paled. “I’m sure I could take down at least five of them before they killed me.”

“Only five? So I would have to deal with the thousands that remained?” Nathan flexed his arms and bent his knees in his supple new travel pants. “Why don’t we practice? I could use a good training partner. I’ll teach you a few moves, so that if you ever find yourself facing a savage enemy horde, you could maybe kill fifteen of them before they took you down.”

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