Stone of Tears tsot-2

by Terry Goodkind

  She feared he was right, that the headache really was killing him. She ached for the next day, when they could get to Zedd, get to help.

  It was late afternoon by the time they returned to the celebration, the banquet. Richard’s head was a little better, but still hurt him enough to leave the pain in his eyes. The elders stood as the two of them approached the open pole shelter. The Bird Man stepped forward.

  “What of the Bantak? Did you see them? There has been no word from Chandalen.”

  Kahlan held the gold medallion out to him and let it drop in his hand when it came up.

  “We found them, to the north, as Richard said we would. Ma Ban Grid sent this as a gift to tell the Mud People that the Bantak will not make war with them. They made a mistake, and are sorry. We made them see that the Mud People mean them no harm. Chandalen has also made a mistake.”

  The Bird Man nodded solemnly, and turned to a hunter standing nearby, telling him to bring back Chandalen and his men. Kahlan didn’t think he looked as pleased as she thought he would be.

  “Honored elder, is something wrong?”

  His brown eyes seemed heavy. He glanced to Richard and back to her. “Two of the Sisters of the Light have returned. They wait in the spirit house.”

  Kahlan’s heart jumped. She had hoped they wouldn’t be back so soon. What had it been, only a few days? She turned to Richard.

  “The Sisters of the Light are waiting in the spirit house.”

  Richard sighed. “Nothing is ever easy.” He addressed the Bird Man. “Tonight is the gathering. Will you be ready?”

  “Tonight the spirits will be with us. We will be ready.”

  “Be careful. Take nothing for granted. All our lives depend on it.” He took her arm. “Let’s see if we can put a stop to this.”

  They walked together across the field, past the roar of the fires. People were still everywhere, eating, dancing, playing the boldas and drums. There were fewer children about. Some were off napping, but some still managed to dance and play.

  “Three days,” he muttered.

  “What?”

  “It’s been three days, almost, since they were here last. I will send them away, and tomorrow, we will be gone. When they come back in another three days, we will have been in Aydindril for two.”

  She stared ahead as they walked. “That is if they keep to the same schedule. Who says they won’t show up for the third time after only one day. Or one hour.”

  She could feel his eyes on her, but she didn’t look over when he spoke. “Are you trying to make a point?”

  “You only get three chances, Richard. I’m afraid for you. I’m afraid of the headaches.”

  This time, she did look over, but he didn’t. “I won’t wear a collar. Not for any reason. Not for anyone.”

  “I know,” she whispered.

  He yanked the door open and strode into the spirit house. His jaw was set with determination. His eyes fixed on the two women standing in the center of the dimly lit room as he marched up to them. Both wore their cloaks with the hoods pushed back. Their faces, in mild frowns, seemed almost calm.

  Richard stopped in front of the two. “I have questions, and I want answers.”

  “We are glad to see you are still well, Richard,” Sister Verna said. “Still alive.”

  “Why did Sister Grace kill herself? Why did you allow it?”

  Sister Elizabeth stepped in front of Sister Verna. She held the open collar in her hands. “We told you before, discussion is over. It is by the rules now.”

  “I have rules too.” With his fists on his hips, he looked to each woman in turn. “My first rule is that neither of you is going to kill herself today.”

  They ignored him. “You will listen. I, Sister of the Light, Elizabeth Myric, give the second reason for the Rada’Han, give the second chance to be helped. The first of the three reasons for the Rada’Han is to control the headaches and open your mind so you may be taught to use the gift. You have refused the first chance to be helped. I bring the second reason and offer.”

  She watched his eyes as if to be sure she had his full attention. “The second reason for the Rada’Han is so that we can control you.”

  Richard glared at her. “Control me? What does that mean, to control me?”

  “It means what it says.”

  “I’m not putting a collar around my neck so you can ‘control’ me.” He leaned a little closer. “Or for any other reason.”

  Sister Elizabeth held the collar up. “As you were told before, it is more difficult for you to accept the second offer. Please believe us, you are in great danger. Your time is running out. Please Richard, accept the second offer now, on the second of the three reason and offers. It will only be much more difficult to accept on the third of the three reasons.”

  There was something in his eyes Kahlan had seen only once before—the last time the collar was held out to him. Something alien, something frightening. It sent a chill through her. Goose bumps rose on her arms. The anger left his voice.

  “I told you before,” he whispered. “I will not wear a collar. For anyone. For any reason. If you want to teach me to use the gift, to control it, we can talk about it. There are things going on you know nothing about: important things, dangerous things. I have responsibilities as the Seeker. I am not a child like you are used to dealing with. I am an adult. We can talk about it.”

  Sister Elizabeth stared at him with fierce intensity. Richard retreated a half step. His eyes closed, and he shook slightly. At last, he straightened. His eyes came open as he took a deep breath. He returned the Sister’s stare. Something had happened, and Kahlan had no idea what it was.

  The strength in Sister Elizabeth’s eyes waned. Her hands lowered the collar. Her voice came in a fearful whisper. “Will you accept the offer and the Rada’Han?”

  Richard stood staring at her. The power was back in his voice. “I refuse.”

  Sister Elizabeth went pale as she stared back for a moment before turning to the woman behind her. “Forgive me, Sister, I have failed.” She put the Rada’Han in Sister Verna’s outstretched hand. Her voice came in a whisper. “It is upon you now.”

  Sister Verna kissed her on each cheek. “The Light forgives you, Sister.”

  Sister Elizabeth turned back to Richard, her face gone slack. “May the Light cradle you always with gentle hands. May you someday find the way.”

  Richard stood with his fists on his hips as he watched her eyes. She lifted her chin. As Sister Grace had done, she brought her arm up and with a flick of her wrist brought the silver-handled knife to her hand. Richard continued to watch her as she flipped it around toward herself. Kahlan watched, holding her breath, spellbound, as the woman prepared to kill herself. The silence seemed thick. For a heartbeat, everyone was stone still.

  The instant the knife began to move, Richard did too. His speed was shocking. Before Sister Elizabeth realized what had happened, Richard had her by her wrist. His other hand came up and began prying the odd knife from her fingers as she struggled to keep ahold of it. She was no match for his strength.

  “I told you my rule. You are not allowed to kill yourself today.”

  Her face twisted with futile effort. “Please! Let go—”

  Her body flinched. Her head jerked back. There was a flash of light that seemed to come from within her, from within her eyes. Sister Elizabeth crumpled forward to the ground, Sister Verna pulling her own knife from the woman’s back as she fell.

  Sister Verna’s gaze rose from the dead woman to Richard. “You must bury her body yourself. If you let another do it for you, you will have nightmares for the rest of your life, nightmares caused by magic. There is no cure for them.”

  “You killed her! You murdered her! What’s the matter with you! How could you kill her!”

  She tucked her knife up her sleeve as she glared at him. She reached out, snatched the silver knife from his hand, and slipped it in her cloak.

  “You killed her,” Sister
Verna whispered.

  “Your hands have the blood on them!”

  “So does the executioner’s axe, but it doesn’t wield itself.”

  Richard lunged for her throat. She didn’t move; she simply continued to stare at him. His hands stopped before reaching her. Richard shook, straining against an invisible barrier as she watched him.

  In that instant, Kahlan knew what the Sisters were.

  Richard relaxed the pressure of pushing against the barrier. He pulled his hands back a little. He visibly relaxed.

  Gently, his face gone calm, he reached one hand toward Sister Verna. His fingers clutched around her throat. Her eyes went wide with shock.

  “Richard,” she whispered angrily, “take your hand from me.”

  “As you have said, this is no game. Why did you kill her?”

  His weight came off his feet. Richard floated a few inches into the air. He tightened his grip on her throat. When he didn’t release her, fire ignited all around them, roaring to life, a whorl of flame closing around him.

  “I said, take your hand from me.”

  In a moment more, the fire would consume Richard. Before she realized what she was doing, Kahlan had her fist out toward the Sister. Blue light crackled all around her wrist and hand. Little threads of blue lightning escaped from the sides as she struggled to restrain herself from releasing the bolt of power. Wisps of blue fire sizzled forth, throughout the spirit house, up the walls, across the ceiling and floor, everywhere except where the other two stood. She shook with the strain of holding back the power.

  “Stop it!” The threads of blue lightning sucked the fire into them. “There will be no more killing today.” The blue light extinguished.

  Silence again filled the room as Sister Verna stared at Kahlan. A hard edge of anger stole into her eyes. Richard settled to the ground and took his hand from the woman’s throat.

  “I wouldn’t have harmed him. I only meant to frighten him into releasing me.” She turned her glare to Richard. “Who taught you to break a web?”

  “No one taught me. I taught myself. Why did you kill Sister Elizabeth!”

  “You taught yourself,” she mocked. “I told you. This is no game. It must go by the rules.” Her voice lost its edge. “I have known her for many years. If you had ever turned that sword of yours white, you would understand what it took for me to do as I did.”

  Richard didn’t tell her he had turned the sword white. “You would expect me to put myself in your hands, after what you have done?”

  “Your time is running out, Richard. After what I have seen today, I would be surprised if the headaches don’t soon kill you. I don’t know why it is that the pain hasn’t already put you down. Whatever is protecting you won’t last much longer. I know you don’t like to see anyone die. Neither do we, but please believe that what is done is done for you, to save you.”

  She turned to Kahlan. “Be very careful with that power of yours, Mother Confessor. I doubt you have the slightest idea how dangerous it is.” Sister Verna pulled her hood up as her brown eyes turned to Richard. “You have been offered the first and second of three chances, and refused. I will return.” She leaned a little closer. “You only have one chance left. If you refuse it, you will die. Think on it carefully, Richard.”

  After the door closed behind Sister Verna, Richard squatted next to the dead Sister. “She was doing something to me. Magic. I could feel it.”

  “What did it feel like?”

  Richard shook his head a little. “The first time they were here, I thought I felt something pulling me to accept their offer, but I was so afraid of the collar, I paid it no attention. This time, it was much stronger. It was magic. The magic was trying to force me to say yes, to accept the offer from the Sisters. I just thought about the collar until the force left and I was able to say no.”

  He looked up at her. “You have any idea what’s going on? What she was doing, and what Sister Verna did, with the fire, and the rest of it?”

  Kahlan’s hand still tingled from the blue lightening. “Yes. The Sisters are sorceresses.”

  Richard rose smoothly to his feet. “Sorceresses.” He watched her eyes for a long moment. “Why would they kill themselves when I said no?”

  “I think it is to pass their power on to the next Sister, to make her stronger for when they try again.”

  He looked down at the body. “Why would I be so important, that they would kill themselves to get me?”

  “Maybe it is as they say. To help you.”

  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “They don’t want one man, a stranger, to die, yet two of them have already died trying to get me to accept their help so a life wouldn’t be lost? How does that add up?”

  “I don’t know, Richard, but I’m so scared it hurts. I’m afraid they could be telling the truth: that you don’t have much time, and the headaches are killing you. I’m afraid you won’t be able to control them much longer.” Her voice broke with emotion. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  Richard slipped his arms around her. “It will be all right. I will bury her. The gathering will be in a few hours. Tomorrow we will be in Aydindril and then I will be safe. Zedd will know what to do.”

  She could only nod against his shoulder.

  Chapter 16

  Kahlan sat naked in the circle with eight naked men. Richard was to her left, painted, as were she and the elders, with the black and white mud except in a small circle in the center of his chest. In the dim light coming from the small fire behind her, she could see the wild jumble of lines and swirls sweeping diagonally across his face. They all wore the same mask, so that the ancestors’ spirits might see them. She wondered if she looked as savage to him as he looked to her. The unfamiliar, acrid smell from the fire made her nose itch. None of the elders scratched their noses; they only stared at nothing and chanted sacred words to the spirits.

  The door slammed shut by itself, making her jump.

  The Bird Man’s distant eyes came up. “From now, until we are finished, near dawn, no one may go out, no one may come in. The door is barred by the spirits.”

  Kahlan didn’t like the idea that, as Richard had said, this could be a trap. She squeezed his hand more tightly. He returned the squeeze. At least, she thought, she was with him. She hoped she could protect him. She hoped she could call the lightning if she had to.

  The Bird Man fished out a frog and then passed the woven basket to the next elder. Kahlan stared at the skulls arranged in a circle in the center as each elder took a frog and began rubbing its back against the bare circle of skin on his chest. As they did so, each rolled his head back and chanted different words. Without looking over, Savidlin passed her the basket.

  Closing her eyes, she reached inside and finally caught a squirming, kicking spirit frog. Its smooth, slimy skin was revolting. Swallowing hard, and taking a mental grip on her Confessor’s power to try to keep from releasing it unintentionally, she pressed the frog’s back to the skin between her breasts as she passed the basket to Richard.

  Tingling tightness spread across her skin. She freed the frog and took up Richard’s hand once more as the walls began to waver, as if seen through heat and smoke. Her mind tried in vain to hold on to the images of the spirit house around her. They drifted away as she felt herself spinning around the skulls.

  Soft sensations caressed her skin. Light danced from the skulls in the center and filled her eyes. Sounds of the boldas and drums and chanting filled her ears. The pungent smell from the fire filled her lungs. As once before, the light from the center brightened, taking them into it, into the silken void, spinning them around.

  And then there were shapes around them. Kahlan remembered them, too, from before: the ancestors’ spirits. She felt a gossamer touch on her shoulder: a hand; a spirit hand.

  The Bird Man’s mouth moved, but it wasn’t his voice. It was the joined voices of the ancestors’ spirits, flat, hollow, dead.

  “Who calls this gathering?”
/>
  Kahlan leaned toward Richard, and whispered, “They want to know who calls this gathering.”

  He nodded. “I do. I call this gathering.”

  The touch left her shoulder and the spirits all floated from behind them into the center of the circle.

  “Speak your name.” The echo of their voices sent ripples of pain along the skin of her arms. “Your full and true name. If you are certain that you wish this gathering, despite the danger, speak the request after your name. You get but this one warning.”

  Richard stared at her translation. “Richard, please . . .”

  “I have to.” He looked back to the spirits in the center and took a deep breath. “I am Richard . . .” He swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment. “I am Richard Rahl, and I request this gathering.”

  “So be it,” came the empty whispers.

  The door to the spirit house crashed open.

  Kahlan jumped with a little shriek. She felt Richard’s hand flinch, too. The doorway stood open, a black maw in the soft light around them. The elders all looked up, their eyes no longer glazed with the distant vision. They seemed confused, dazed.

  The spirit voices came again, this time not through the elders, but from the center, from the spirits themselves. The sound of it was even more painful than before.

  “All but the one who calls the ancestors’ spirits may leave. Leave while you still can. Heed our warning. Those who remain behind with him risk forfeiting their souls.” They turned as one to Richard. Their voices were a hiss. “You may not leave.”

  The elders’ frightened eyes flicked around to each other as she translated for Richard. Kahlan knew: this had never happened before.

  “Everyone out,” Richard whispered. “Have everyone get out. I don’t want them hurt.”

  Kahlan looked to the Bird Man’s worried eyes. “Please. All of you, leave now. While you can. We don’t want harm to come to any of you.”

  The elders all looked to the Bird Man. He stared at her a moment, glanced at Richard, and then back to her.