Pillars of Creation

by Terry Goodkind

  The words chilled Jennsen to the bone, as if the hand of death itself had touched her. It would be just like a sorceress to practice sly wiles with words. Jennsen's mother had warned her that sorceresses never told what they knew, but often held back important things.

  What had been Althea's true intent when she had so casually named Jennsen one of "the pillars of Creation"? Although Jennsen didn't understand it, it now seemed all too clear that Althea might have had some hidden motive for planting the seed of that name in Jennsen's mind.

  "So, what happened with Althea? Why couldn't she help you?"

  Jennsen was startled out of her thoughts by his voice. She turned the sticks with the salt pork, seeing that it still needed more cooking, as she considered how to answer the question simply.

  "She told me that she tried to help me, once, when I was little. Darken Rahl found out and crippled her for it. He twisted her gift, too, so she can't use her own magic. Now, she couldn't cast me a spell even if she had wanted to."

  "Maybe, without even knowing it, Darken Rahl was doing the Creator's work."

  Jennsen frowned in astonishment. "What do you mean?"

  "The Imperial Order wants to eliminate magic from the world. Brother Narev says it's the Creator's work we do, because magic is evil."

  "And what do you think? Do you really think the gift of the Creator could be evil?"

  "How is magic used?" His hooded gaze fixed on her, anger clearly evident in his eyes. "Is it used to help people? Help the Creator's children in this life? No. It's used for selfish reasons. You have only to look at the House of Rahl. They've used the gift, for thousands of years, to rule D'Hara. And what has that rule been? Has it been to the help or benefit the people? Or has it been one of torture and death."

  The last of it was not a question, but a statement, and one Jennsen could not argue.

  "Maybe," Sebastian added, "the Creator was working through Darken Rahl to lift the taint of magic from Althea-to mercifully free her from it."

  Jennsen rested her chin on her knees as she watched the meat sizzling. Althea said that she was left with only the gift of prophecy, complaining that it was torturous to her.

  Jennsen's mother had taught her to draw a Grace and told her that the gift was given by the Creator. In the proper hands, a Grace was magic. Even though Jennsen had no magic, that magical symbol had on several occasions protected her. While she knew that people could do evil, Jennsen didn't like the idea of thinking that the gift was evil. Even though she couldn't do magic, she knew that it could be a wondrous thing.

  She gently sought to try a different approach. "You said that Emperor Jagang has sorceresses with him, the Sisters of the Light, who might be able to help me. They use magic. If magic is evil-"

  "They use magic in our cause, so that magic might one day be eliminated from the world."

  "How can that make sense? If you truly believe magic to be evil, then how could you think to ally yourselves with what you profess to be evil?"

  Sebastian checked the salt pork when she held one of the sticks out to him, then pulled a piece off on the point of his knife. He held up the knife and waggled it for her to see.

  "People kill other people with knives and swords. If we wanted to eliminate knives and swords so that the killing would stop, we could hardly do so with words alone. We would have to take away people's knives and swords by force in order to stop the madness of violence for the good of everyone. People cling to evil. We would have to use knives and swords in that fight to rid the world of those evil things. Then the

  world would be at peace. Without the means of murder, people's passions would cool and the Keeper would flee their hearts."

  Jennsen carved off a chunk of sizzling meat and blew on it to cool it a little. "And so you use magic in that way?"

  "That's right." Sebastian chewed, giving a moan of approval to the taste before he swallowed and went on. "We want to eliminate the evil of magic, but to do so we have to use magic in the fight, or else evil would win. "

  Jennsen took a juicy bite of the pork, moaning her agreement with his opinion of the taste. It was wonderful having something hot to eat.

  "And do Brother Narev and the Emperor Jagang think that knives and swords are evil, too?"

  "Of course, because their sole purpose is to maim and kill-naturally we don't mean tools like bread knives, but weapons, certainly, are evil things. People will eventually be free of their scourge, though, and then the plague of murder and death will be a thing of the past."

  "You mean to say that even soldiers won't have weapons?"

  "No, soldiers will always have to be armed in order to defend a free and peaceful people."

  "But, then how can people protect themselves?"

  "From what? Only the soldiers will carry deadly weapons."

  Jennsen tilted her head toward him in admonition. "Were it not for the knife I carry, soldiers would have easily murdered me along with my mother. "

  "Evil soldiers. Our soldiers fight only for good, for the defense and security of the people, not to enslave them. When we defeat the D'Haran forces, then there will be peace."

  "But even then-"

  He leaned toward her. "Don't you see? Eventually, with magic eliminated, weapons will no longer be needed. It's the corrupt passions of people which are made lethal because they have access to weapons that result in crimes and murders."

  "Soldiers have passions."

  He dismissed the thought with a wave of a hand. "Not if they're trained properly and are under supervision of good officers."

  Jennsen gazed off at the sparkling dome of stars. The world he envisioned certainly sounded inviting. But if what he claimed were true, then magic, as they used it, was being used for a good end, so that would mean it could be neither good nor bad, but that, much like her knife, the intent

  of the person wielding magic actually carried the moral condition, not the magic itself. Rather than say so, she asked another question.

  "What would a world without magic be like?"

  Sebastian smiled wistfully. "Everyone would be equal. No one would have an unfair advantage." He stabbed another piece of meat and pulled it off the stick on the point of his knife. "Everyone would work together, then, because we would all be the same. No one would have the unfair use of magic and be able to take advantage of others. You, for example, would be free to live your life without Lord Rahl hunting you with his magic. "

  Althea said that Richard Rahl had been born with powers of the gift not seen in thousands of years. He had, after all, gotten closer to her than Darken Rahl ever had. He had sent those men who had murdered her mother. But Althea had also said that Jennsen was a hole in the world to those with the gift; Lord Rahl could hunt her, but not with magic.

  "You will never be free," Sebastian finally added in a quiet voice, until you eliminate Richard Rahl."

  Her eyes turned toward him. "Why me? With all those fighting against him, why do you say until I eliminate him?"

  But even as she was asking the question, she began to see the terrible answer.

  "Well," he said, leaning back. "I guess what I really meant to say was that you won't be free until Lord Rahl is eliminated."

  He turned away and pulled a waterskin closer. She watched him take a long drink, then changed the subject.

  "Captain Lerner said that Lord Rahl was married."

  "To a Confessor," Sebastian confirmed. "If Richard Rahl was looking to find a wife who was his match in evil, he found her."

  "You know about her, then?"

  "Only the little I've heard from the emperor. I can tell you what I know, if you want."

  Jennsen nodded. With a finger and thumb, she pulled some more salt pork off one of the long sticks, eating while she watched the firelight dance in his eyes as he spoke.

  "The barrier between the Old World to the south and the New World to the north stood for thousands of years-until Lord Rahl destroyed it so that he might conquer our people. Probably not long be
fore your mother would have been born, I think, the New World was itself divided up into three lands. To the far west was Westland. D'Hara is to the east. After

  killing his father and seizing rule, Richard Rahl destroyed these boundaries separating the three lands of the New World.

  "Between Westland and D'Hara is the Midlands, an evil place where magic is said to hold sway and where the Confessors live. The Midlands is ruled by the Mother Confessor herself. Emperor Jagang told me that, while she is young, maybe my age, she is as smart as she is deadly."

  Jennsen was given pause by his chilling words. "Do you know what a Confessor is? What 'Confessor' means?"

  Holding the waterskin, Sebastian draped a forearm over his bent knee. "I don't know, except that she's gifted with frightening power. Her mere touch burns away a man's mind, making him into her mindless slave."

  Jennsen listened, rapt, appalled by such a notion. "And they really do anything she says-simply because she touched them?"

  Sebastian handed her the waterskin. "Touched them with her evil magic. Emperor Jagang told me that her magic is so powerful that if she tells a man so enslaved that she wants him to die on the spot, he will do so."

  "You mean ... he would kill himself right before her eyes?"

  "No. I mean he would simply drop dead because she commanded it. His heart would stop, or something. He would just drop dead."

  Shaken by the very idea, Jennsen set the waterskin aside. She drew her blanket up around herself. She was exhausted, and she was weary of learning new things about Lord Rahl. Every time she learned something new, it was more terrible than the last thing. Her monster half brother, after he had killed their father, seemed to have wasted no time in assuming the family duty of hunting her.

  After they'd eaten and seen to the horses, Jennsen curled up under a blanket and her cloak. She wished she could go to sleep and wake to find it had all been a bad dream. She almost wished she would never wake to have to face the future.

  Because they had a fire, Sebastian didn't sleep with his back to hers. She missed the comfort of that. With anguishing thoughts cascading through her mind, she stared into the flames, eyes wide open, as Sebastian fell asleep.

  Jennsen wondered what she could do, now. Her mother was dead, so she had no real home. Home had been with her mother, wherever they were. She wondered if her mother was watching her from the world of the dead, along with all the other good spirits. She hoped her mother was at peace, and had happiness at last.

  Jennsen felt an empty, desolate sorrow for Althea. There could be no

  help from the sorceress, and none wanted. Jennsen felt shame at the trouble she had brought to others who tried to help her. Her mother had died for the crime of giving birth to Jennsen. Althea's sister, Lathea, had been murdered by Jennsen's relentless hunters. Poor Althea was stuck forever in that awful swamp for the crime of trying to protect Jermsen when she had been but a child. Friedrich was almost as much a prisoner as Althea, his life robbed of many joys.

  Jennsen remembered the thrill of Sebastian's kiss. Althea and Friedrich had lost the pleasure of sharing passion. It was as if there had been that kiss for Jermsen, the awakening discovery, the spark of possibility, and then there could be no more, ever. She was in her own kind of swamp, also a prison of Lord Rahl's making, trapped in the endless flight from killers.

  She thought about what Sebastian had said, that she would never be free until she eliminated Richard Rahl.

  Jennsen watched Sebastian as he slept. He had come unexpectedly into her life. He had saved her life. She could never have imagined, the first time she saw him, or the first night when she looked up into his eyes from across the fire after she had drawn the Grace at the cave entrance, that he would one day end up kissing her.

  His spikes of white hair had a soft golden glow from the firelight. His face was such a pleasure for her.

  What more was there for them? She didn't know the answer to that. She didn't know what that kiss had meant, or where it could lead them, if anywhere. She wasn't sure she wanted it to. She wasn't sure he did. She feared he didn't.

  chapter 32

  The more open ground closer to the plains was soon behind them, and they began a difficult journey through deepening snow and rugged terrain taking them slowly but inexorably up into mountainous country. Sebastian had agreed to take her where she wanted to go, to the Old World. There, she hoped to be safe, to be free, for the first time in her life. Without Sebastian, such a dream would not even have been possible.

  He told her that the rugged range of mountains they were entering, along with their vast tracks of forests, skirted the western edge of D'Hara, safely out of the way of most people, and would eventually lead them down toward the Old World. As they entered the sheltering solitude among the shadows of the towering peaks, they finally began to work their way more to the south, following the mountains toward a distant liberty.

  The weather was brutal in the mountains. For several days they had to walk, lest they kill the poor horses. Rusty and Pete were hungry, and the heavy snow cover made it difficult for them to get at any vegetation. Their thick winter coats were getting mangy. At least they were still sound, if weak. The same could be said for her and Sebastian.

  As the heavy overcast darkened ominously and a light snow began to fall late one afternoon, they were fortunate to find a small village. They spent the night there, letting the horses stay in the small stable, where

  they had good oats and clean bedding. There was no inn in the town. Sebastian and Jennsen paid a few copper pennies to sleep in the hayloft. After having been out in the open so long, Jennsen felt it was a palace.

  The morning brought a storm with wind and snow, but even worse, the snow was interspersed with a heavy wet sleet that came in gales. Traveling in such conditions would be not only miserable, but dangerous. She was glad, especially for the horses, that it kept them at the stable an extra day and another night. The horses ate and rested while Sebastian and Jennsen told each other lighthearted stories from their youth. She loved to see the gleam in his eyes when he told her some of his misadventures of fishing as a boy. The next day dawned blue, but with a wind. Still, they dared not linger longer.

  They made their way along roads or trails, since people were few and far between. Sebastian was ever cautious, but quietly confident that they would be safe enough. With the ever-present comfort of the knife at her belt, Jennsen, too, felt that it was better to risk the roads and trails rather than attempt to strike out across remote and unknown territory covered in a thick blanket of snow. Traveling cross-country was always difficult, from time to time dangerous, and with the barrier of towering mountains all about, frequently impossible. Winter only made such travel all the more difficult, but worse, hid perils lurking beneath the snow. They feared to have a horse break a leg attempting it needlessly.

  That night, as she started building them a shelter by loosely weaving together a dozen saplings and covering them with balsam boughs, Sebastian stumbled back to their camp, panting from effort. His hands were slick with blood.

  "Soldier," he said, trying to catch his breath.

  Jennsen knew what soldiers he meant. "But how could they have followed us? How could they!"

  Sebastian looked away from her fury, her frantic demand. "It's Lord Rahl's gifted chasing us." He pulled a deep breath. "Wizard Nathan Rahl saw you, back at the palace."

  That made no sense. She was a hole in the world to the gifted. How could any gifted follow a hole in the world?

  He saw her dubious expression. "Not too hard to track through snow."

  Snow. Of course. She nodded in resignation, her fury turning to fear. "One of the quad?"

  "I'm not sure. It was a D'Haran soldier. He came out of nowhere at

  me. I had to fight for my life. I killed him, but we must huffy and get out of here in case there were others nearby."

  She was too frightened to argue. They had to keep moving. The thought of men coming out of the darkness at them
lent swiftness to her actions as they saddled the horses. They were quickly mounted and soon riding hard while there was still enough light to see by. They had to dismount, then, and walk to let the horses rest. Sebastian was sure they would have put distance on anyone after them. The snow helped them see, so that, even with clouds scudding past a partial moon, they were able to follow the road.

  By the next night, they were so exhausted that they had to stop, even at the risk of being captured. They slept sitting up, leaning together before a small fire with their backs to a deadfall.

  They made slow but steady progress in the days following and saw no sign of anyone following them. Jennsen took little comfort in that. She knew that they would not give up.

  A stretch of sunny days allowed them to make good time. It was no comfort to her because they left clear tracks and the soldiers pursuing them would be able to make equally good time. They stayed to roads that had been traveled, whenever they came across them, so as to throw off and delay anyone who followed.

  But then the storms returned. They pushed onward for five days despite near-blizzard conditions. As long as they could see the paths and narrow roads, and were able to put one foot in front of the other, they couldn't afford to stop, because the wind and snow covered their tracks almost as soon as they made them. Jennsen had spent enough of her life outdoors to know that tracking them would be impossible in such conditions. It was their first real hope of slipping the noose from their necks.

  They selected roads or trails randomly. Each time they came to a crossroads or fork, Jennsen was relieved to see it, because it meant another chance for their pursuers to choose wrong. Several times they cut crosscountry, the drifting snow making it impossible for anyone to know where they had gone. Despite how weary she was, Jennsen began to breathe easier.