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“I refuse. Ildakar is gone.” Her expression roiled with anger. “And I am not your slave. If Sulachan is dead, then the cause is lost. I have no purpose. You have deceived me, and I will not help you.”

Nicci realized how lost she was. She could be stranded, and this creature was her only connection, her only way of getting back. “No, sliph! If you can’t take me to Ildakar, then return me to Serrimundi.” She looked around at the abandoned metropolis. “Do not leave me here.”

“You will never travel in me again.” The sliph’s voice held a dangerous finality. “I must recover.”

Nicci rushed to the edge of the well, but it was too late. The sliph vanished, plunging back down into the bottomless well with a rushing, fading sound.

Nicci stood silent, all alone in the empty wreck of an ancient city, completely cut off from her friends and everything she knew.

* * *

Utros’s returning scouts rode back at a fast gallop from the empty site of Ildakar, where the bluffs dropped off to the river. The first man had an unexpectedly alarmed expression on his face. “General! Warriors are climbing up from the Killraven and emerging onto the plain. Thousands of them!”

“They are armed and furious,” said a second man, his skin warm and flushed. “Uglier than any humans I have ever seen.”

First Commander Enoch stepped forward. “Another army? Where did they come from? Do they mean to fight us?”

Utros stared toward the river, where he saw the unruly lines of figures moving toward them. Even though his army was shocked and damaged after the inferno, they clearly outnumbered any possible enemy force. And yet the other warriors kept coming over the top of the cliff. Utros gritted his teeth and nodded to Enoch. “First Commander, go meet them with a party of armed soldiers. Find out who they are. I will want to speak with their leader.”

With a brisk nod, the hardened veteran gathered fifty men and rode off to the raiders coming up from the river.

Utros ignored the unfamiliar pangs of hunger in his stomach. He remembered when he had tried to eat the roasted yaxen shortly after awakening, and he had vomited up the meat. Now, his stomach wanted food. All of his soldiers would feel the same way.

Before long, the first commander returned leading ten hideous warriors with scarred faces. One man, larger and more powerful than the rest of them, had bony spikes implanted in his shoulders and iron plates on his knuckles. He was accompanied by a pale man whose skin was covered with a forest of scars.

“We are the Norukai, and I am King Grieve,” said the large man, striding forward to face Utros. “What have you done to Ildakar?”

Utros gestured to his surviving soldiers that spilled across the plain, restless in their makeshift camp. “We laid siege to the city. My army has been waiting here for fifteen centuries to bring it down.”

Grieve interrupted with a loud laugh. “The statue army! Yes, my spies told me about the stone warriors. But you are awake now.”

The general didn’t flinch, showed no weakness. “We have been fighting to break down the city walls, but Ildakar just vanished before our eyes. I do not know what happened.”

Grieve grumbled. “Yes, the city has done that before. Maybe Ildakar will return, maybe it won’t. But I have all my Norukai navy, and my warriors need to fight.” He leaned closer. “Maybe we should attack your army.”

“Only if you wish to die,” Utros said. “Do you not see the numbers of my troops? What would be the point? Do you think war is nothing more than a sport?”

Grieve shrugged. “Sometimes.”

Ava and Ruva came close, their eyes bright, and he knew they were ready to attack with magic. The twins stared curiously at the scarred albino shaman.

The two men were both massive, and if Utros had still been hardened from the lingering effects of the stone spell, he could have crushed the king. But now he was flesh and blood again, with all the inherent weaknesses of a mere human. As he faced the Norukai king, Utros was both offended and fascinated by the scarification, the slashed mouth, the implanted bone spines, the tattoos on his skin. Even more hideous was the shaman whose skin was covered with bite marks.

“Destiny,” said the albino. “Destiny, my Grieve, King Grieve! There will be war, a big war.” He jabbed a finger at Utros. “But not with him.”

The Norukai leader’s expression showed a reckless challenge, but Utros remained calm. They had both attacked Ildakar, but from different sides.

“We have the same enemy,” Utros said. “I assume you had your reasons to attack the city.”

Grieve said, “To conquer it.”

Utros saw thousands more Norukai ascending from the river below, and his scouts had reported numerous warships on the water. “Ildakar is no longer there. Are you going to make yourself my enemy? You and all your fighters?” He kept his voice calm and gestured to the countless ranks across the scorched and damaged field. “My army can easily defeat yours. It makes no sense for you to fight us.”

“The Norukai always fight,” Grieve said. “We raid, we pillage, we conquer.”

“Admirable goals,” Utros said, “so long as you choose the right target. And the right ally.”

The shaman came close, curious to look at the twin sorceresses. He sniffed and shifted his gaze back and forth from Ava to Ruva. “Magic,” he said. “Powerful magic! But they don’t see what I see, my Grieve. I see a huge army! I see Norukai ships. I see Utros and his soldiers.” He grinned. “I see a powerful force to sweep across the whole land.”

General Utros was curious. “I once served Emperor Kurgan. Now I serve my own goals. I have no emperor.”

“I am king,” Grieve said. “King of the Norukai.”

“You may be king of the Norukai, but I am general of my troops. The Old World is vast. How can you help me conquer it?”

Offended, Grieve puffed himself up as if ready to attack Utros. Ava and Ruva coiled, prepared to unleash their magic. With a single bolt of lightning, they could turn King Grieve into a smear of ash.

But the albino shaman jumped between them, frantically waving his hands. “This is what I saw, my Grieve, King Grieve! Allies. You and General Utros, a giant army! A great war.”

“I have hundreds of ships,” Grieve boasted. “Many down on the river, others raiding the coast, and more being built among our islands. It is a navy unlike any that history has ever seen.”

“They’ll all grieve!” the shaman cried.

Utros pondered how many soldiers he had just lost, and his new determination after forsaking his loyalty to Emperor Kurgan. He said in a calculating voice, “I have my army, but to overwhelm the entire land, a navy would be useful as well, and many more fighters. If your Norukai can fight.”

Grieve spat on the ground, as if the answer were disgustingly obvious. The king described his great war fleet and his countless raiders, ruthless Norukai men and women, and powerful serpent ships. He told of the numerous Norukai islands filled with warriors who had not yet set off in battle, but were restless and eager to launch their own attacks. A war, a full war, to conquer the entire Old World.

Utros decided that, given time, he could wipe out these Norukai, if necessary, but for now he did not need another war for his displaced troops. Perhaps these warriors would be useful.

“Together, our armies can conquer the world,” Grieve said. “If we fight together.”

“They’ll all grieve!” the shaman repeated.

Ava and Ruva leaned closer, whispering in eerie unison, “With a whole continent to conquer, beloved Utros, surely there is enough to carve out two empires.”

He considered, then spoke to the Norukai leader. “With your ships and your raiders, and all my soldiers, we could overwhelm the land. King Grieve and General Utros.”

The Norukai king opened his exaggerated mouth and clacked his teeth together. “I agree.”

Smiling with satisfaction, Utros reached out to clasp Grieve’s massive hand.

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