2 - Stone of Tears

by Goodkind, Terry

  Still, he couldn't let himself open up completely to her. The Sisters were his captors, not his friends. They were the enemy, for now. But he knew that when the time came, Liliana would side with him.

  Richard's lessons with the six Sisters took up at most two hours a day. A waste of two hours as far as he was concerned. He was no closer to touching his Han than he had been the first time Sister Verna had him try.

  When Richard could manage to be alone, he explored the land around the palace, and found the limits of his invisible chain. When he reached the farthest distance the collar would allow him to go, it felt like trying to walk through a ten-foot-thick wall of mud layered over solid rock. It was frustrating to be able to see beyond, without obstruction, yet not be able to continue walking.

  It happened, as near as he could tell, about the same distance from the palace in any direction. It was a good number of miles, but once he found the limit, his world began to feel very small indeed.

  The day he found his boundary, the limits of his prison, he went to the Hagen Woods, and killed a mriswith.

  His only true solace was Gratch. Richard spent most nights with the gar. He wrestled with his furry friend, ate with him, and slept with him. Richard hunted food for Gratch, but the gar was learning to hunt on his own. Richard was relieved to learn that; he didn't have the time to be with him every night. Hungry or not, Gratch was always distraught when Richard missed a night.

  Richard was worried that Pasha would know where he went all the time, by his collar, but quite by accident he discovered something else his mriswith cape did - it masked from Pasha his whereabouts. When he wore the cape, she couldn't find him by his Rada'Han, by his Han.

  She was puzzled by his blanking out from her sense of where he was, but didn't seem too concerned, offering that perhaps it had an explanation that she would come to figure out one day. She seemed to think it was a deficiency on her part. Richard never offered her the solution.

  He realized that this was the reason none with the gift ever knew a mriswith was coming. Richard wondered why he had been able to see the beast in his mind. Maybe it was as Sister Verna said, that he was using his Han. But Sisters and wizards knew how to use their Han, and couldn't detect the mriswith.

  Richard had an easier time when he could go where he pleased, and know Pasha would not know where he was; it saved thinking up explanations. He worried that if she ever discovered the reason, she would destroy his cape, so he hid a second for that contingency.

  Gratch seemed to be bigger every time Richard saw him. By the end of Richard's first month at the palace, the gar was a head taller than R'ichard, and significantly stronger. When they wrestled, Gratch learned to be careful not to hurt him.

  Richard also spent some of his time with Warren, getting him used to going outside. At first, he took Warren out into the courtyards at night. Warren told him that the size of the sky and landscape frightened him, so Richard reasoned that night would show him less of the landscape, at least to start.

  Warren said that the Sisters had had him down in the vaults for so long that he thought he just became used to being closed in, but he was tired of it. Richard felt sorry for him, and wanted to help him. He really liked Warren. He was about as smart as anyone Richard had ever met. There didn't seem to be anything that Warren didn't know at least a little about.

  Warren was nervous about being away from the safety of the palace, but was reassured by Richard's presence, and the way Richard never ridiculed his fears. Richard was always considerate, never taking Warren farther than he felt comfortable. Richard told him that it was just like after you were injured and had been laid up for a while: it took time to stretch the old muscles.

  After a few weeks of their nighttime forays, Richard started taking Warren out in the daylight, first just up onto the walls to look at the vastness of the sky and ocean. Warren was always close to a stairway that led back into the palace, so he was reassured by having an escape route close by if he felt he had to go back inside. A few times he did, and Richard always went with him, and talked about other things to take his mind away from the uncomfortable feeling. Richard had Warren bring a book outside with him, so he could be distracted by reading. Letting Warren forget about the size of the sky helped.

  On a bright, sunny day, after Warren had become comfortable out-of-doors, Richard decided to try taking him out into the hills. Warren was a bit giddy at first, but as they sat on a rock high in the hills, overlooking the countryside and the city, Warren said that he felt as if he had mastered his fear. He said that he still felt uncomfortable, but he felt the fear was under control.

  He grinned at the vast landscape spread out below, enjoying the sight that for so long his fears denied him. Richard told him that he was happy that he was the one to have been able to guide him out of his mole hole. Warren laughed.

  Warren said he needed adventure in his life, and this felt like the beginning.

  As far as Warren's search for information was going, he had been able to find out precious little. He had so far found only a few references in old books that talked about the Valley of the Lost, and the Baka Ban Mana, but what he found was intriguing. The information made reference to the power the wizards had given the Baka Ban Mana in return for taking their land, so that they could someday have their land restored. It said that when the completing link was joined with this power invested in their spirit woman, the towers would fall.

  Richard thought about Du Chaillu saying that he was the Caharin, and that they were now husband and wife. That was a linking of sorts. He wondered if over the intervening time the meaning of this joining could have been taken to mean marriage, instead of its original intent.

  As they sat watching the vast landscape, Warren said, 'The Prelate has been reading prophecies and histories that talk about "the pebble in the pond."'

  Richard's ears perked up. He remembered Kahlan singing him a song about screelings that mentioned 'the pebble in the pond.' Warren hadn't studied those prophecies before, and hadn't been able to piece together their importance as of yet.

  'Do you know what the Wizard's Second Rule is?' Richard asked.

  'Second Rule? Wizards have rules? What's the first?'

  Richard looked over. 'Do you remember that night Jedidiah broke his leg, and I told you that you had carpet ash on you? And you tried to brush it off? I was using the Wizard's First Rule.' Warren frowned. 'You think on it, Warren, and let me know what you figure out. In the meantime, it's important that you speed up the search for the information I asked you about.'

  'Well, it will be a little easier, now that Sister Becky is sick every morning, and won't be looking over my shoulder. She's pregnant,' he said in answer to Richard's questioning frown.

  'Do many of the Sisters have children?'

  'Sure,' Warren said. 'What with all the young wizards around who can no longer go to the city. The Sisters help out with their needs, so they can study.'

  Richard gave Warren a suspicious look. 'Is Sister Becky's child yours?'

  Warren blushed furiously. 'No.' He kept his eyes to the city. 'I'm waiting for the one I love.'

  'Pasha,' Richard said.

  Warren nodded. Richard looked down at the Palace of the Prophets, and the city that surrounded it. Needs.

  'Warren, do all the children of men with the gift inherit it?'

  'Oh no. It's said that many thousands of years ago, before the Old and New World were separated, many had the gift. But over time those in power methodically killed off young ones with the gift, so they would have no one to threaten their rule. They also withheld the required teaching. It used to be that fathers taught their sons, but as fewer were born with the gift, and it skipped more and more generations, those who knew the way jealously guarded their knowledge. That's the reason the Palace of the Prophets was created - to help those with the gift, who had no teacher.

  'As time went on, the gift was bred out of the race of man, the way you breed a trait out of an animal. This gave
the wizards who held power less and less opposition all the time.

  'Now that the trait is so bred out, one born with the gift is exceedingly rare. Maybe only one child in a thousand fathered by a wizard is born with the gift. We're a dying breed.'

  Richard looked to the city again, then to the palace.

  His eyes locked on the palace, Richard slowly rose to his feet. 'They're not seeing to our "needs,"' he whispered, 'they're using us as breeding stock.'

  Warren stood. His brow wrinkled. 'What?'

  'They're using the palace, the young men at the palace, to breed wizards.'

  Warren's brow furrowed deeper. 'Why?'

  Richard's jaw muscles flexed. 'I don't know, but I intend to find out.'

  'Good,' Warren said with a grin. 'I need an adventure.'

  Richard gave him a cold look. 'Do you know what adventure is, Warren?'

  Warren nodded, the smile still on his face. An exciting experience.'

  Adventure is being scared to death, and not knowing if you will live or die, or if the ones you love will live or die. Adventure is being in trouble you don't know how to get out of.'

  Warren fumbled with the braiding on his sleeve. 'I never thought about it like that.'

  'Well, you think on it,' Richard said, 'because I'm about to start an adventure.'

  'What are you going to do?'

  The less you know, the less adventure you'll have to worry about. You just find out the things I need to know. If the veil is torn, we're all going to have a never-ending adventure.'

  'Well,' Warren said with a twinkle in his eye, 'I found out at least one thing of help, then.'

  The Stone of Tears?'

  Warren nodded with a grin. 'I found out there is no way you could have seen it. It's locked behind the veil. In a way, it's part of the veil.'

  'Are you sure? Are you sure I couldn't have seen it?'

  'Positive. The Stone of Tears is the seal that keeps the Nameless One locked in his prison of the dead, in the underworld. He can rule the souls of the dead there with him, but he cannot come to this world. The Stone of Tears seals him there.'

  'Good,' Richard said with a relieved sigh. That's great, Warren. Good work.' He gently gripped Warren's robe and pulled him closer. 'You're sure. There's no way the Stone of Tears could be in this world.'

  Warren confidently shook his head. 'None. It's impossible. The only way for the Stone of Tears to be in this world would be for it to come through the gateway.'

  Richard felt his flesh beginning to tingle. 'Gateway? What's the gateway?'

  'Well, the gateway is what the name implies. A passage. In this case, a passage between the world of the living and the world of the dead. It's magic of both worlds, a passage constructed of magic. The gateway can only be opened with both Additive and Subtractive Magic. The Nameless One has only Subtractive, since he is in the underworld, so he can't open the gateway. The same way someone in this world could not open it, because we have only Additive Magic.'

  Bumps were rising on Richard's arms. 'But someone in this world, someone with both forms of magic, could open the gateway?'

  'Well, sure,' Warren stammered. 'If they had the gateway. But it has been lost for over three thousand years. It's gone.' He gave Richard a self-assured smile. 'We're safe.'

  Richard wasn't smiling. He grabbed Warren's robes in both hands and yanked his face close. 'Warren, tell me the gateway isn't called the Magic of Orden. Tell me the gateway isn't the three boxes of Orden.'

  Warren's eyes slowly expanded to the size of gold pieces. 'Where did you hear that name for it?' he whispered in a disquieted tone. 'I'm the only one in the palace besides the Prelate and two other Sisters who are permitted to read the books that call the gateway by its ancient name.'

  Richard gritted his teeth. 'What happens if one of the boxes is opened?'

  They can't be opened,' Warren insisted. They can't. I told you, it takes both kinds of magic, Additive and Subtractive, to open a box.'

  Richard shook him. 'What happens!'

  His eyes still wide, Warren swallowed. Then the gateway between the worlds is opened. The veil is breached. The seal is off the Nameless One.'

  And the Stone of Tears would be in this world?' Warren nodded as Richard tightened his grip on the robes. 'And if the box were to be closed, that would close the gateway? Seal the breach?'

  'No. Well, yes, but it can only be closed by one with the gift. It takes the touch of magic to close the gateway. But if one with the gift closes the box, the gateway, then it ruptures the balance, because he has only Additive Magic, and the Nameless One escapes the underworld. More correctly, this world would be swallowed into the world of the dead.'

  Then how can the box be closed to keep the worlds separated!'

  The same way the gateway is opened. With both Additive and Subtractive Magic.'

  And what about the Stone of Tears?'

  'I don't know. I would have to study.'

  Then you better study fast.'

  'Please,' Warren whined, 'you don't mean that you know where the boxes are. You haven't found them, have you?'

  'Found them? The last time I saw the boxes, one was opened, about to suck my bastard father into the underworld.'

  Warren fainted.

  CHAPTER 57

  Under the impotent rays of the late-day sun, an old woman was spreading wood ash on the ice covering the vast expanse of stairs. Kahlan walked past, relieved that the old woman didn't look up to see that the person in the heavy clothes, white fur mantle, and carrying a pack and bow was the Mother Confessor returned to Aydindril.

  She was in no mood for starting a celebration tonight. She was exhausted. Already, before coming home to the palace, she had climbed up to the Wizard's Keep on the mountainside, but the Keep was stone cold and dark as death. The shields were in place, though a Confessor could enter, but no one was inside.

  Zedd was not there.

  The Keep sat now as the last time she had seen it so many months ago, when she had left to find the missing great wizard. She had found him, and helped stop the threat from Darken Rahl, but now she needed the great wizard again.

  Since leaving the Galean army nearly a month before, she had been struggling to reach Aydindril, and Zedd. Storms had raged for days at a time. Passes had been rendered impassable by the weather and snow, forcing them to backtrack and find alternate routes. It had been a frustrating and tiring journey, but the despair at reaching her goal and not finding Zedd was withering.

  Kahlan had made her way through the side streets, avoiding Kings Row. The palaces on Kings Row housed dignitaries, staffs, and guards of the lands that were represented in Aydindril. The kings and queens and rulers of those lands stayed in their palaces when they came to address the council. The palaces were a matter of pride for each land, and each was magnificent, although none could begin to compare to the Confessors' Palace.

  Kahlan had avoided Kings Row because she would be recognized there, and she didn't want to be recognized right now; she wanted only to find Zedd and, failing that, speak to the council, so she headed toward the service area to the side, near the kitchens.

  Chandalen was out in the forest. He didn't want to come into Aydindril; the size of the city and the multitudes of people made him uneasy, though he denied it, and claimed only to be more comfortable sleeping outside. Kahlan couldn't blame him; after being alone in the mountains for so long, she, too, was uneasy going into the city, even though she had grown up in this place and knew its streets and majestic buildings as well as Chandalen knew the plains around the Mud People village. The people everywhere made her feel closed in as never before.

  Chandalen wanted to go home to his people, now that she was delivered safely to Aydindril. She could understand his desire to be off, but asked him to rest the night, and say good-bye to her in the morning.

  She had told Orsk to spend the night with Chandalen. His presence was wearing; his one eye following her everywhere, his jumping to help her with everything, his
constantly standing ready to do her bidding at the slightest indication. It was like having a dog continually at heel. She needed a night away from that. Chandalen seemed to understand. She didn't know what she was going to do about Orsk.

  A stifling blast of warm air hit her as she went in through the kitchen entrance. At the sound of the door, a thin woman in a sparkling white apron spun to her.

  'What are you doing in here! Get out, you beggar!'

  As the woman lifted her wooden spoon in a threatening. manner, Kahlan pushed back the hood of her mantle. The woman gasped. Kahlan smiled.