Stone of Tears tsot-2

by Terry Goodkind

“They know better than to risk violation of that truce. They strongly fear what wizards on this side would do if they did. They let me learn what I could from them, and let me study in the vaults, but they never let me see any boys, nor would they tell me if they had any.”

  “Well, of course they don’t have any!” he snapped. “There are almost never any born with the gift, anymore. Too many wizards have been killed in the wars. We are a dying breed.

  “And as First Wizard I would never turn down the teaching of one with the gift as happened thousands of years ago. Nor would any wizard I taught. And the Sisters know that! They know the rules! They may not take a gifted one unless every wizard declines to teach him. To go against the rules just once would mean a death sentence to any Sister that ever again crossed that valley.”

  “They know that, Zedd. They take that threat seriously.”

  “Well, they ought to know it! I met up with one of them once, when I was young, and I sent my warning to the Prelate.” He flexed his fists as he stared off. “They are barbaric in their methods. They are children teaching surgery. If I knew how to get past those accursed towers, I’d go down there and lay waste to the Palace of the Prophets.”

  “Zedd, in that time past many with the gift died because there be none who would teach them to control it. Those with the power were possessive of it, and did not want to train another who one day might be a threat to their power. They abandoned those born with the gift, left them to die by the power of the thing they be born with but didn’t know how to control. The Sisters didn’t want to let those abandoned boys die. They just be doing what they think best to help people.”

  He cast her a withering glare. “The Sisters of the Light do only what is best for the Sisters of the Light.”

  “Maybe so, but they are sworn to follow the rules, the truce, just as you do, by letting them be when they come here.”

  He stared off, shaking his head. “To let those with the gift die, simply for their own selfish gain . . . If they had lived up to their responsibilities as wizards, the Sisters of the Light would never have come to be. Never been needed.”

  With his boot, he brushed a dead ember on the flagstone hearth back into the fireplace. “They would never think of allowing a wizard to teach a young sorceress to use her gift, yet they presume to teach a young wizard how to use his.”

  “Zedd, I believe as you, but listen to me: dead and buried causes and wars not be our concern. The veil be torn. The Stone of Tears be in the world of the living. Those be our concerns.

  “I went to those women to learn. Magic I learned there, and have taught you, though insufficient to stop the taint, has been able to slow it. We must purge the taint before it claims us.”

  His mood cooled under the scrutiny of her white eyes. “Of course you are right, Adie. We have pressing problems to deal with.”

  She favored him with one of her little smiles. “I be glad you be wise enough to listen to wisdom.”

  He rubbed the ache in the back of his neck, squeezing the tight muscles. “Do you really think this woman with the three daughters would have known about this taint? It’s a long way to go on a hunch and a hope.”

  “She studied with the Sisters of the Light many years. They liked her and wanted her to stay, to be a Sister. But she did not believe as they, and so finally went home. I don’t know the extent of her knowledge, but if the Sisters know anything about the taint, and taught her, she would have taught her daughters. As much as I don’t like the idea, they be in Nicobarese.”

  When Zedd saw Adie wrapping the blanket up around her shoulders, he closed the window. Kneeling at the hearth, he placed a handful of kindling on the grate and stacked on wood from the bucket to the side. He was about to use magic to start the fire, but thought better of it and instead lit a stick in the lamp. He squatted, touching the flame to the curls of the kindling.

  “Zedd, my friend,” Adie said in a quiet, gentle voice, “I not be a Sister of the Light. I know that be what you are wondering. I not be one of them.”

  That was exactly what Zedd had been wondering.

  “And if you were,” he asked without turning, “would you tell me?”

  She was silent. He looked over his shoulder to see her smiling at him. “The Sisters of the Light value honesty above almost anything else. But to them, lying in the service of their Creator be a virtue.”

  The fire took a good start. Zedd stood before her, looking down without returning her smile. “That is no comfort to me.”

  She took hold of his hand, patting it with her other.

  “Zedd, I will tell you the truth. I be in debt to some of them for the things they did for me, but I give you an oath on the soul of my dead Pell: I not be a Sister of the Light. I would never let them have one of the gifted from our side, as long as I knew there be a wizard to teach him. I would never allow a boy to be taken and subjected to their ways, had I a say.”

  Zedd smoothed the fringe of a carpet with his foot. “I know you’re not one of them, dear lady. It’s just that I hate the thought of those women doing those things to ones with the gift, when I can show them the joy of their talent. It’s a gift. They treat it like a curse.”

  With a thumb, she rubbed the back of his hand. “I see you have yourself a dashing new cane.”

  Zedd grunted. “I hate to think what Master Hillman is scheming to charge me for it.”

  “And did you find us transportation?”

  Zedd nodded. “A man named Ahern. We better try to get a bit of sleep. He’s going to be here with a coach three hours before dawn.”

  He gave her a grim look. “Adie, until we get to Nicobarese and can rid ourselves of this taint, I think we had better consider the consequences very carefully before using magic.”

  “Are we safe here?”

  A soft hand extended from the fog of dim light, brushing her cheek, comforting her.

  You are safe here, Rachel. Both of you are safe. Now, and always. You are safe.

  Rachel smiled. She did feel safe. Safer than she ever felt before. Not just safe like she felt when she was with Chase, but safe like she had felt in her mother’s arms. She hadn’t been able to remember her mother before, but she remembered now, remembered the encircling arms holding her to a breast.

  The terrible fright she had shared with Chase while they raced to catch Richard was melting away. The bone-tired worry of whether or not they would catch him in time was melting away. The terror of the people who had tried to stop them, the fights Chase had had, the horror of the blood she had seen, all the blood she had seen . . . it was all melting away.

  As she stood before the sparkling pool, the hands reached to her again. Reached to her from the gentle smiles of reassurance. The hands helped her undo the buttons of her dirty, sweaty dress, and pull it off. She flinched when her dress pulled against the bruise on her shoulder, the bruise she got when a man chasing them had knocked her down.

  The smiles turned to sad looks of concern for her pain. The soft, gentle voices cooed comfort to her. The glowing hands caressed the shoulder, and when they lifted, the bruise was gone. The hurt was gone.

  All better?

  Rachel nodded. “Yes! It’s all better. Thank you.”

  The hands pulled off her shoes and stockings. She sat on a warm rock and dangled her bare feet in the soothing water. It would be so wonderful to bathe and be rid of the dirt and sweat.

  The hands reached for the stone hanging on the necklace around her neck. The hands drew back, as if afraid.

  We cannot remove this thing. You must do it without our help.

  Through the soothing warmth and security of the beautiful land around her, through the comfort of the peace she had found, through her desire to do as the gentle murmurs had asked, a voice rose up in her mind. It was Zedd’s voice, telling her that she must not give the Stone to anyone, for any reason, telling her how important it was for her to guard it always.

  She looked up, from the circles of ripples her feet made in the
water, to the gentle faces. “I don’t want to take it off. Can’t I leave it on?”

  The smiles returned and widened.

  Of course you can, Rachel, if that is what you wish. If that is what would make you happy.

  “I want it to stay on. That would make me happy.”

  Then it will stay on. Now, and forever, if you wish.

  She smiled a smile of peace and security as she slipped into the soothing water. It felt so good. She floated and drifted. She felt all her troubles sloughing away with the dirt. One moment, it seemed she couldn’t feel any more safe or happy, and then the next moment she did, and the next yet more.

  She drew her arms through the healing, cleansing, golden water, swimming toward the other side of the pool, where she remembered leaving Chase. She found him almost up to his neck in the water, his head tilted back, resting on a soft mat of grass at the bank. His eyes were closed and he had a wonderful smile on his face.

  “Father?”

  “Yes, daughter,” he whispered without opening his eyes.

  She swam up beside him. He lifted an arm and she slipped under it. It felt so good to have his arm around her shoulders, comforting her.

  “Father, do we ever have to leave this place?”

  “No. They say we can stay forever.”

  She nuzzled against him. “I’m so glad.”

  She slept, really slept, like she couldn’t remember ever sleeping before, so safe and sheltered, though she didn’t know how long. When she dressed, her clothes were clean, and seemed to sparkle like new. Chase’s clothes, too, were bright and shiny. She held hands and danced in circles with other children, glowing children, whose voices and laughter echoed. It made her laugh, too, laugh with happiness like none she had ever felt before.

  When she was hungry, she and Chase lay in the grass, the warm fog and glowing, smiling faces around them, and ate things that were sweet and delicious. When she was tired, she slept, never having to worry about where she slept, because she was safe, safe at last. And when she wanted to play, the other children came to play with her. They loved her. Everyone loved her. She loved everyone.

  Sometimes she walked alone. Filmy shafts of sunlight streamed through the trees. Glowing meadows were filled with wildflowers bowing in the gentle breeze, winking with bright specks of color.

  Sometimes she walked with Chase, holding his hand. She was so happy that he was contented now, too. He never had to fight anyone anymore. He was safe, too. He said he was at peace.

  He sometimes took her for walks, and showed her the woods where, he said, he grew up, where, he said, he had played when he was as little as she. She smiled with delight at the look of happiness in his eyes. She loved him and was fulfilled knowing he, like she, had found peace, at last.

  She looked up, and a small smile touched her thin lips. She hadn’t heard a sound, and she needn’t turn to look in the near darkness. She knew he was there, on the other side of the door. She knew how long he had been there.

  Her legs still crossed, she rose smoothly on a cushion of air, hovering above the straw-covered floor. The boy’s limp arms swung as they dangled, like weighted fishing line. Lacking any life or rigidity, his back bent backward, draping over her arm. In her other hand was clutched the statue.

  She unfolded her legs and stretched her slippered feet to the floor, settling her weight on them. As the boy slid from her arm, the dead weight of his head thunked against the floor. His arms and legs flopped askew to one side. His clothes were filthy. Disgusted, she wiped her hands on her skirts.

  “Why don’t you come in, Jedidiah.” Her voice echoed from the cold stone. “I know you’re there. Don’t try to pretend you’re not.”

  The heavy door squeaked slowly open and the shadowed figure strolled into the light of a single candle burning on a rickety, nearby table that was the lower room’s only accoutrement. He stood relaxed, silently watching, as the orange glow faded from her eyes and they returned to the pale, pale blue shot through with violet flecks.

  His gaze went to the statue in her hand. “The owner sent me to find that. She wants it back.”

  The thin smile grew. “Does she now?” She shrugged. “Well, I’m through with it.” She held it out to him. “For now.”

  Jedidiah’s face was a calm mask as he took the statue. “She doesn’t like it when you ‘borrow’ her things.”

  She ran a finger down his cheek. “She is not the one I serve. I don’t really care what she likes and what she doesn’t.”

  “You would be wise to care a little more.”

  Her smile brightened. “Really? I could give her the same advice.” She twisted, holding an arm out to the body on the floor. “He had the gift.” Slowly, her hard eyes came back to his, the smile gone, as if one had never touched her features in all her life. Her voice came in a venomous hiss. “I have it now.”

  The slightest frown of puzzlement touched his cool expression.

  “Think we must have the ceremony, Jedidiah? The ritual in the Hagen Woods?” She slowly shook her head. “Not anymore. That is only the first time, because we are female, and female Han cannot absorb the male.” Her voice lowered to a derisive whisper. “Not any longer. Now that I have the gift of a male, I can accept others without the ritual.”

  Her face glided to within inches of his. “So can you, Jedidiah,” she breathed. “With the quillion, so can you. I could teach you. It’s sooo easy. I simply showed him the joining rite, to try to show him his Han.” Her cheek brushed his as she whispered into his ear. “But he didn’t know how to control his gift. I created a vacuum in the quillion.” She drew back to appraise his eyes. “It sucked the life right out of him. Sucked the gift right out of him. It’s mine, now.”

  He studied her eyes a time before glancing down at the body. “I don’t recall seeing him before.”

  She continued to whisper to him from only inches away. “Don’t play games with me, Jedidiah. What you really mean is, where did I find him, and why haven’t the Sisters, if he has the gift.”

  He shrugged nonchalantly. “If he has the gift, why isn’t he collared?”

  She cocked her head to the side. “Because he is so young. His Han is too weak to be detected by the other Sisters.” She tilted her head to the other side. “But not by me.” She touched her nose to his. “He was right here in the city. Right under their noses. Probably the offspring of a dalliance by one of you naughty boys.”

  “Very efficient. Saves having to bother with reports. Avoids awkward questions.”

  She glanced down at the body. “Be a good boy, and dispose of him for me. I found him living in squalor, down near the river. Dump him back there. No one will think anything of it.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “You wish me to clean up after you?”

  She ran a finger down his neck and across his throat, across his Rada’Han. “You make a serious mistake, Jedidiah, if you think of me as a mere Sister. I have the male gift now, same as you. And I know how to use it. You wouldn’t believe how much that power increases when you add the Han of another.”

  “It would appear that you are becoming a Sister to be reckoned with. A wise person would take care with you.”

  She patted his cheek. “Smart boy, Jedidiah.”

  She gave him a little frown as she slipped her hands to his waist. “You know, Jedidiah, you may think of yourself as powerful in the gift, but I think you should worry about that. You have never had one to challenge your abilities before, your rightful place among the wizards here, but a new one comes. He will be here soon, and you have never seen one like this before. I think you may no longer be the pride of the palace.”

  His countenance showed no reaction, but his face slowly heated to red. He lifted the statue. “Well, you did say you would like to teach me.”

  She waggled a finger in front of his face. “Uh, uh, uh. He is mine. You may have another. Any gift will swell your power, but this one is mine.”

  He waggled the statue in front of her face. “She mi
ght have something to say about that. She has plans of her own. Plans for him.”

  She smiled with one side of her mouth. “I know. And you are going to keep me informed of her plans.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “You have plans for me?”

  The smile grew to both sides of her mouth. “Very special plans.” Her hands roamed lower down the sides of his hips, feeling the firmness of his young muscles under his robes. “You’re good with your hands, good at making things, making things in metal. I have something I want you to make for me. Something invested with magic. I hear that’s one of your talents with the gift.”

  “You wish a trinket, an amulet, perhaps, in silver, or gold?”

  “No, no, dear boy. You’re to make it from steel. You’re to gather the steel of a hundred sword points. Very special sword points. Sword points from the armory: old ones, ones that have been used. Ones that have pierced flesh in combat.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “And what is it you wish made?”

  She slid a hand up the inside of his thigh. “We’ll talk about it later.”

  She smiled at how quickly he responded to her touch. “You must be lonely, since Margaret ran away. Sooo lonely. I think you need a friend who understands you. Did you know, Jedidiah, that with the male Han comes a unique understanding of the male? I now understand in a new light what it is that men appreciate. I think we’re going to be very special friends. As a special friend, you get the reward before performing the task.”

  She trickled a thread of magic into him, focusing it where it would do the most good. Her smile widened as his head rolled back. His eyes closed and he let out a throaty groan, and then gasped. Panting, he clutched his hands to her bottom, drawing her to him, and crushed his open mouth to hers.

  She kicked the body out of her way as she let him force her to the straw-covered floor.

  Chapter 36

  The wolverine grew larger in his vision. The arrow waited for the flat, dark head to lift. A low growl came from behind his left shoulder.

  “Quiet!” Richard hissed.