The Law of Nines

by Terry Goodkind

  “When I saw Bethany and her thugs at your door I knew that I didn’t have a moment to lose. I had to come immediately, even though I had no lifeline ready.

  “I had to come because you are the right man, Alex.”

  Alex listened to the rain drumming steadily against the roof of the Jeep and the distant rumble of thunder. He remembered the day in his studio that she had described. He had forgotten all about the mirror by then; he thought that he would never see her again. That hadn’t been the only day he had raged against death for taking Ben. If she had been watching him, she would know that, too.

  Ben wouldn’t be dead were it not for these people coming to his world, coming for his family, coming for him.

  If he didn’t stop them, who would? How many more would die?

  Jax laid a hand on his arm. “Are you all right, Alex?”

  He nodded. He wondered how she could be all right, knowing that she had no way to get home.

  “We need to stop them,” he said with quiet resolve. “I don’t know if I’m the right man, but I’m the only Rahl you’ve got. If I can do anything to help, I will. If we can figure this out and stop them, then maybe other people won’t needlessly lose their loved ones.”

  “Thank you, Alex,” she whispered. She again gently rested her hand on his arm, as if to say she understood all that his words conveyed, and was sorry to have to ask so much of him.

  He knew that, for her, there was no turning back. There wasn’t any turning back for him, either. No matter what happened, they were now committed.

  Her face brightened with a small smile. “So, any ideas?”

  “Well,” he said, “Bethany knew something about what these other people were after. She wanted to bear my successor. That could only gain one thing: the inheritance that came to be mine when I turned twenty-seven. I think we need to find out about this land that I’m inheriting.”

  “I suppose that it makes sense for us to look into it. But I can’t see how it would have anything to do with what they’re after. What do they need with land?”

  “I don’t know, but Bethany sure seemed intent on having it.”

  “Not necessarily. It makes more sense to me that what she was really after was your child, a Rahl child.”

  “What good would a Rahl child do her?”

  “A Rahl in my world would be currency of immense value. A Rahl heir would have made her far more important than she otherwise was.”

  “You think she intended to get pregnant and return to your world? You just said that you can’t take anything back.”

  “But if she got pregnant, the child would have been hers as well. It would have been a part of her. That, I’d be willing to bet, she could have taken back through the void to my world.”

  “I was sure it had to be something to do with the land,” Alex muttered.

  “It may be,” Jax said. “I’m only saying there are other important reasons she would have wanted you to get her pregnant. I can see why she would want a Rahl child, but I can’t imagine what she would want with land. She has land—a lot of it.”

  “So you’re convinced it’s not the land they’re after?”

  Jax shrugged. “I’m only pointing out that there are other reasons people from my world might be interested in you.”

  Alex let out a sigh. “Well, as far as I know my mother is the only other living Rahl. I’ve heard her say that people always want to know things from her.

  “The land is far away, but my mother is close. Before we consider the land angle I think we should go ask my mother what these people want to know from her. I’m not sure if she’ll be able to talk, but we can try.”

  “You said she was crazy.”

  “Maybe she isn’t as crazy as I thought. Maybe they’ve driven her crazy. Anyway, it’s a place to start.”

  Jax watched his eyes for a moment. “That makes sense. Tomorrow, then, we go see your mother.” She lay back and yawned. “You were right, we’d better get some sleep.”

  Alex nodded as he yawned in turn. He watched as she rearranged her duffel-bag pillow. Her eyes closed.

  “Jax, you’re someone important where you come from, aren’t you?”

  “I’m just a woman, Alex. A woman who has no powers here. A woman who is afraid that she will never see her home again. A woman who is afraid for the lives of those she loves.”

  “Those you love. Like a man you love?”

  “No,” she whispered, her eyes still closed. “Not that kind of love. I have no one like that.”

  He watched her breathing slow for a time. She looked bone-tired. Traveling from a distant world through that void had sounded like more than merely an exhausting experience.

  “Jax,” he asked softly, “are you like a queen or something?”

  She smiled sadly without opening her eyes, “In my world, queens once bowed to those like me, but not anymore. Now they bow to Cain.” Her voice seemed halfway into the world of sleep. “Now I’m just a frightened, desperate woman a long way from home. A woman who often fears she is foolish to think she can win against these people.”

  He watched her for a time. “I don’t think you’re foolish in the least,” he whispered as he tucked the jacket around her, “I think you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

  She was already asleep and didn’t hear him.

  25.

  THAT’ S FINE,” MR. FENTON SAID. “I shouldn’t have any trouble having the final title documents ready for you in a few days.” “Thank you,” Alex said into the phone. “That should work out. I’m not sure of my travel plans yet, but I imagine that it will take me at least a few days to get there.”

  “I’ll give you a call, Mr. Rahl, and let you know when the documents are ready.”

  “Uh, no . . . don’t bother,” Alex said, his mind racing for an excuse. “I’m having trouble receiving calls on my phone. There’s something wrong with it. When I get time I’m going to have to see about getting it fixed or replaced. I’ll let you know when I do. In the meantime I’d hate to miss your calls and I wouldn’t be aware that you were trying to reach me. Tell you what, I’ll call you in a few days and let you know when I’ll be in Boston.”

  “I look forward to seeing you. Thank you for calling. Oh, and the people at the Daggett Trust were quite pleased with your decision and are eager to meet you.”

  Alex wondered why.

  “All right, then, I’ll call you as soon as I know something about my travel plans.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Rahl. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  Alex flipped the phone closed and then dropped it in his large cup of water. Bubbles rose from the phone as Alex carefully folded over the top of the paper cup several times to seal it. He placed the cup upright in a trash container so that the water wouldn’t spill out, at least for a time.

  He clearly remembered Jax saying that people on the other side had been using his phone to track him. He didn’t have any sure way to know if the same people had somehow locked on to his new phone or not. For all he knew, placing a call to the lawyer’s office could somehow enable Cain’s people to find him through the phone.

  Possible or not, he wasn’t going to take any chances. It was a cheap generic phone. He would buy another. The number would be different, but he’d told the lawyer not to try to call him. There was no one else he needed to talk to, at least not enough to risk his life.

  His new gallery might want to get in touch with him, especially if they sold one of his paintings, but in light of all that had happened that wasn’t important for the time being. He had new concerns. He had a new life, it seemed. He wondered how short that life might be.

  Alex glanced down the hall, toward the restrooms. He had already finished washing up. Jax was still in the ladies’ room. An outlet mall was not the best place to clean up, but it was better than nothing.

  They’d already had a breakfast of sausage and egg sandwiches in the food court. Jax had devoured three.

  Remembering that she hadn’t
been able to open the door of the Jeep on her own, he had carefully explained the faucets and toilets to her, just in case she didn’t know how to use them. She’d listened with interest, like a student paying attention to a lecture in a course she needed to pass.

  The morning had dawned with bright blue skies, but it was windy, a remnant of the violent storms that had passed through the night before. At least the rain had moved on. Seeing the bright blue skies as they had emerged from the cargo area of the Cherokee had made the night before—the lightning and thunder, the desperate fights, the killing, the blood—seem like a distant nightmare.

  The next time he glanced down the hall, he saw Jax coming. She smiled when she saw him. It was a smile that sparkled in her warm brown eyes and lifted his heart. After the night before they both knew that they only had each other to depend on. They had a bond of purpose.

  Surprisingly enough, she looked for the most part to be back to her normal self. He didn’t know how she had accomplished such a feat after how soaked they had been, and after sleeping in the cramped quarters of the Jeep, but she had. He smiled to himself when the thought crossed his mind that it seemed like she had to have used magic to restore her lush fall of blond hair to full glory.

  The only problem with the way Jax looked was that she looked too good. In Regent Center she fit in. In an outlet mall near the casinos, where fancy dress was too-short skirts or muffin-top jeans, a tank top, and flip-flops, she stood out.

  With most of the men in the mall looking her over from top to bottom, he didn’t know how to tell if Jax was being watched by someone from another world or not. Alex was eager to get her something else to wear so that she wouldn’t draw quite so much attention.

  “You look very nice,” he said as she joined him.

  “Yes, I know what you mean. Let’s get me some other clothes so that I don’t look so very nice.”

  Alex wondered if such a thing was even possible. He was sure, though, that different clothes would at least draw less attention. Jax was apparently well aware of how different her attire looked from that of other people in the mall. Being a target as she was, she had to worry about standing out.

  “Did you have any trouble using the faucets or anything?”

  “No, but a thin girl in the washing room was a little too curious about me.”

  “Why? What did she say?”

  “She said, ‘So, like, are you a supermodel or something?’ ” Jax quoted, mimicking the adolescent voice. “I wasn’t entirely sure what she meant, but I think I got the idea. When I told her no, she said, ‘So, like, what do you do, then? Like, for a living.’ ”

  Alex smiled at the story, and the predicament Jax had found herself in.

  “What did you tell her?”

  “I told her that I killed people for a living.”

  Alex lost a step. “You told her what?”

  “That I kill people. I’m not familiar enough with your world to come up with a credible lie, so I told her the truth.” Jax flicked her hand, dismissing the alarm on his face. “People usually don’t believe the truth. They’d rather hear a good lie.”

  “What did the girl say when you told her that you kill people?”

  “She said, ‘Like for real? That’s so cool.’ ”

  “Good. I thought for a moment you might have scared her.”

  “No, she seemed rather preoccupied with death. Her fingernails and lips were painted black. What’s the purpose of trying to resemble a corpse?”

  “I think it’s a phase some girls go through,” Alex said. “Didn’t you ever, I don’t know . . . rebel against adults when you were young? Want to be different?”

  Jax frowned up at him. “No. Why would I do such a thing?”

  Alex sighed. “I guess you really are from another world. What did you do, then, when you were her age?”

  “I studied and practiced.”

  Alex frowned over at her as they walked among the scattering of people all looking at them on the way by. “What did you study and practice?”

  A little smile curved one side of her mouth. “How to kill people.”

  He watched her for a moment. “Is that one of those truth tricks of yours, or a lie you think I might believe?”

  “Both,” she said.

  “What does that mean?”

  She smiled to herself. “I studied languages. I speak a lot of the languages in my world. Feel better?”

  He decided not to press her and changed the subject. “Considering that other people are likely to ask questions, too, and we might find ourselves questioned when we’re not together, I think we’d better come up with a believable story, something we can use if need be.”

  “Don’t tell me,” she said, fanning her face as if feeling faint, “we’re madly in love, I am betrothed to you, and we’re to be married.”

  Alex winced a little. “Well, as a matter of fact, that is what I came up with—the engaged part. I thought it would be a useful story. I mean, if I’m to take you into the hospital where my mother is locked up I should have some kind of plausible story. They don’t let just anyone in. You need to be someone close, like a relative, a spouse, something like that.”

  “Why is your face red?”

  “Look, I just figured that if we said that you were my fiancée it would satisfy people and avoid a problem. I didn’t realize that you’d object.”

  “Relax,” she said with a smile. “I thought of that same story myself.”

  “Oh. You did?”

  “Of course. What else could we say to people where your mother is held? That I’m a woman who dropped in from another world and I would like to speak with the crazy lady?”

  “Is my face really red?”

  She glanced up at him. “A little.”

  “So, you’re my fiancée? You’re all right with that story?”

  She arched an eyebrow at him. “Unless you’re planning on us going through with the marriage.”

  He slowed and gestured to a window filled with female mannequins dressed in casual clothes, glad to have a change of subject. “We should be able to get you something in here.”

  He held the big glass door open for her. She looked back over her shoulder. “Your face is still red, Alex.”

  “Well, actually,” he said, “I was thinking that maybe it would be best if we did actually go through with it and get married. If it was legal it would solve a lot of problems. When we get to the lawyer’s office, already being married would help the transfer of the title to the land go smoothly. . . .”

  He was pleased to see her freeze and stare at him. “Just kidding,” he said. “Your face is red.”

  She shook her head to herself. “I imagine it is.”

  Round racks with pants, tops, and skirts crowded the floor of the store. Alex directed Jax toward a rack with jeans. As they made their way through the islands of clothes, he leaned close.

  “Jax, is there any way to tell if someone is from your world? A way to tell if they’re a different kind of human?”

  “No. They’re the same as you, except that in my world they have magic. Here they don’t. I only know they’re from my world if I recognize them.”

  “Or if they try to kill you.”

  “Well, in my world we would call that a clue.”

  “My world too,” he said, disconcerted to realize that there was no way to tell friend from foe.

  When they reached the rack with the jeans he found the size-8 section and pulled out a pair.

  “This looks like it might fit you,” he said.

  Jax glanced around at the circular racks stuffed with clothes. “To think, there are so many things already made that you have a good chance to happen across some that will fit.”

  “They’re sized,” he said. “They come in standard sizes.”

  She shook her head in wonder as she took the jeans from him. Her brows drew together. “These are worn out. Are they a donation for the poor? Is that what this place is?”

  Alex laugh
ed softly. “No, no, they’re new. They’re made to look used. Believe me, they’re not for the poor.”

  Jax appraised him suspiciously.

  “It’s the fashion,” he assured her.

  She looked like she suspected that he might be putting her on again. “The fashion is to look destitute, with holes in your clothes? Why would anyone choose to look that way?”

  “I don’t know.” He scratched his temple. “I guess the fashion is to look as if you’re wearing comfortable old clothes. It’s meant to look casual.”

  “Like making yourself look like a freshly dead corpse?” She sighed as she laid the jeans over the rack. The saleswomen were all acutely interested in Jax. In such a shop her graceful black dress and blond hair made her look like a queen visiting a dump.

  “Please, Alex, can we get clothes that don’t have holes in them? I want to fit in, but . . .”

  “Sure.” He pulled out another pair that he thought might be more to her liking. “These aren’t even as expensive as the ones with the holes already worn in them.”

  “Now you’re joking at my expense.”

  “I’m telling you the truth, the ones with holes cost more. Would you like me to tell you a lie that you’d rather believe?”

  When she still looked skeptical he pulled out another pair and showed her the price tags.

  She took the jeans from him. “I like these better.”

  “You won’t be as fashionable.”

  “Will I fit in?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then may I have these instead? Please?”

  Alex smiled. “Of course you can. We’ll get you whatever you feel comfortable wearing. You pick.” He gestured with his chin. “Over there is a fitting room where you can try them on to see if they fit and how they look.”

  “I can try anything I want?”

  “Sure.”

  She looked relieved and started searching through the rack herself. With a critical eye she appraised the different styles and picked out several pair that didn’t have holes and cuts already put in them for the convenience of the busy, fashion-conscious woman. As she searched, she handed him jeans to hold.

  Along the way to the fitting room they stopped at several more racks with slacks and several with tops. She wasn’t interested in skirts; she thought they would show too much of her legs and draw attention. From what Alex had seen of her long, muscular legs, he had to agree. In the end, though, she changed her mind and decided to try one.