"How young?"
"At the very most, a third your age."
"And why do you think I did not come to your attention?"
"Obviously, you have been hidden from us, somehow."
Kahlan recognized that Richard was slipping into his Seeker's role, seeking answers to his questions before he gave them anything they wanted.
"Did you train Zedd?"
"Who?"
"Zeddicus Zu'l Zorander, Wizard of the First Order."
The look passed between them again. "We don't know First Wizard Zorander."
"I thought it was your business to know of ones with the gift. Sister Verna?"
They stiffened. "You know this Wizard of the First Order?"
"I do. Why don't you?"
"Is he old?" Richard nodded. "Perhaps he was before our time."
"Perhaps." Richard, with a fist on his hip, strolled a few steps away and stopped with his back to them. "How do you know about me? Sister Elizabeth."
"It is our business to know about those with the gift: wizards. Though you were obviously hidden from us, when you triggered the gift, we knew."
"What if I don't want to be a wizard?"
"That is your business. Ours is to teach you to control the magic. We are not here to force you to be a wizard, only to help you control the magic so you will live. Then you may be what you wish."
Richard marched back and put his face close to Sister Verna. "How do you know I have the gift?"
"We are the Sisters of the Light. It is our business to know."
"You thought I would be young. You thought I would be with my parents. You didn't know I was the Seeker. You don't know who the First Wizard is. You seem to be slipping in your business. Besides these errors, perhaps you are also mistaken about me having the gift, Sister Verna? Your mistakes do not inspire confidence. Does your position of respect tolerate such mistakes?"
Each woman's face was crimson. Sister Verna controlled her voice with an effort. "Richard, our job, our calling, is to help those with the gift. We have devoted our lives to it. We are from far away. What we have learned has been done at a great distance. We don't have all the answers. The matters you speak of are not important. What is important is that you have the gift, and if you don't let us help you, you will die.
"One reason we help those with the gift when they are young, and we wanted to see your parents, is because of the very difficulty we are having right now. If we can talk to the parents, we can help them see what is best for their son. Parents are more interested in the well-being of their children than one of your age is in himself. Teaching one of your age is going to be difficult. People are more easily taught when they are young."
"Before they are able to think for themselves, Sister Verna?" She was silent. "I will ask again. How do you know I have the gift?"
Sister Grace smoothed her straight black hair. "When one is born with the gift, it lies dormant, and is harmless. We strive to find these boys when they are young. We have a number of ways of knowing who they are. It has happened that one with the gift does things that trigger its growth, its evolution. When that happens it becomes a threat to them. How you managed to slip by our knowledge is something we can't answer.
"Once triggered, the power begins to evolve. It cannot be stopped. It must be mastered or you will die. This is what has happened to you. It is exceedingly rare for it to happen this way. To be honest, though we have been taught it has happened before, none of us has personal knowledge of it. Back at the Palace of the Prophets there will be old records of this in others, and we will look into it. But that doesn't change what matters: you have the gift, it has been triggered, and the evolution has begun.
"We have never had to teach one of your age before. I fear the trouble it is going to cause at the Palace. Teaching the gift requires discipline. One of your age has obvious difficulty with this."
Richard softened his tone, but his gaze hardened. "Sister Grace, I will ask for the last time. How do you know I have the gift?"
She stood up a little straighter and let out a noisy breath. She flicked a glance to Sister Verna. "Tell him."
Sister Verna gave a resigned nod and pulled a small black book from behind her belt. With a frown, she began leafing through it. "Those with the gift have some use of it throughout their life, in little ways, even though it lies dormant. Perhaps you have noticed how you could do some things that others could not, yes? The evolution of the gift is triggered by the specific use of the magic. Once triggered, it cannot be undone. This is what you have done."
She continued turning pages, running her finger down them. "Ah. Here it is." She lowered the book and looked up. "There are three things that must be done, in a specific manner, to trigger the gift. We don't fully understand the precise nature of these things, but we understand their general principles. You have done these three things. First, you must use the gift to save another. Second, you must use the gift to save yourself. Third, you must use the gift to kill another with the gift. Perhaps you can see the difficulty in accomplishing them, and why we haven't seen this before?"
"And what is written about me in that book?"
She looked once more to the book, then glanced up, lifting an eyebrow, to make sure he was paying attention before consulting the pages as she spoke. "First, you used the gift to save the life of one who was being pulled back into the underworld. Not physically, but by her mind. You drew her back. Without you, she would have been lost." She looked up from under her eyebrows. "You understand, yes?"
Kahlan looked at Richard. They both understood. She was the one he had saved. "In the wayward pine," she said, "the first night we met. When you kept the underworld from taking me back."
Richard nodded to Sister Verna. "Yes, I understand."
Sister Verna put her finger back to the book. "As for saving yourself with the gift... let's see... I saw it here a minute... ah! Yes here it is." She looked up from under her eyebrows again. "Second, you used the gift to save your own life." She tapped the book with a finger. "You partitioned your mind. You understand, yes?"
Richard's eyes closed. "Yes, I understand," he said in a weak voice. Kahlan didn't understand that one.
Sister Verna went back to the book. "Third, you used the gift to kill a wizard. His name was Darken Rahl. You understand, yes?"
"Yes." He opened his eyes. "How do you know these things?"
"The things you have done used magic, specific magic, that leaves an essence because of who you are and because you are untrained. Were you trained, it would not leave this essence, and we would not know. We have ones back at the Palace of the Prophets who are sensitive to such events."
Richard glared at her. "You have violated my privacy, spied on me. And as for the third of your three things, I didn't exactly kill Darken Rahl. Not technically."
"I can understand how you feel," Sister Grace said quietly. "But it is only done to help you. If you wish to stand here and argue with us about whether or not these things qualify as the three triggers, I will put your doubts at ease. Once they are done, you begin the process of becoming a wizard. You may not believe it, or choose to be a wizard, but there is no doubt it has happened. We do not place this burden on you. We are only here to help you deal with it."
"But..."
"But nothing. When the magic is triggered, at least three changes come about. First, you begin to have fetishes about food. It may be things you crave, or things you have always eaten that you now refuse to eat. We have studied this, and don't understand its cause, but it has something to do with influences at the time the gift comes to life.
"Second, you begin to sleep, at least some of the time, with your eyes open. All wizards do this, even ones who only have the calling. It has something to do with learning to use the magic. If you have the gift, that brings it about as you use it to do these three things. If you have only the calling, the teaching brings it on.
"Third, the headaches come. The headaches are lethal. There is no cure for th
em other than learning to control the magic. If you don't, sooner or later, they will kill you."
"How soon? How much time do I have if I refuse your help?"
Kahlan put a hand on his arm. "Richard..."
"How much time!"
Sister Elizabeth spoke. "It is said that one lived with the headaches for a few years before he died. It is also said that another was dead within several months. We believe the time you have depends upon how strong your power is; the stronger the power, the stronger the headaches, and the shorter the time. But possibly within as little as a month they will begin to be strong enough to render you unconscious at times."
Richard gave her an even look. "They already have been that strong."
The three Sisters' eyes widened, and they exchanged the look again.
"We began looking for you before you did these three things. Since we left the Palace, you have done all three," Sister Verna said. "This book is magic. When messages are written in its twin back at the Palace, they appear to us here. That is how we know you have done them. How long since you have done the third—since you have killed this Darken Rahl?"
"Three days. But I was unconscious on the second night after I Killed him."
"The second... !" Again they gave each other the look.
His irritation was back. "Why do you keep looking at each other like that?"
Sister Verna's voice came in a soft tone. "Because you are a very rare person, Richard. In many ways. We have never encountered so many unexpected things wrapped up in one person."
Kahlan slipped an arm around his waist. "You are right; he is a rare person. A person I love. What can you do to help him?" She was worried that he was frightening them and they wouldn't want to help.
"There are specific rules he must follow. We all must; they are inviolate. There is no room for negotiation. He must put himself in our hands and must come with us to the Palace of the Prophets." Sister Grace's eyes were sad as she said, "Alone."
"For how long?" Richard demanded. "How long does it take?"
Sister Grace's black hair shone in the torchlight as she turned her head to him. "It depends on how quickly you learn. It takes as long as it takes. You have to stay until it is finished."
Kahlan felt a tightness in her chest as Richard slipped his arm around her waist. "Can I visit him?"
Sister Grace shook her head slowly. "No. And there is more." Her eyes flicked to the Agiel for an instant. She reached into her cloak and pulled something out. It was a ring of metal, hardly more than a hand across. Even though it seemed unbroken, Sister Grace did something and it unlatched, opening into hinged half circles. Its dull silver color reflected the firelight. She held it up in front of Richard. "This is called the Rada'Han. It is a collar. You must wear it."
Richard took a step back, his hand coming away from Kahlan's waist and going to his throat. His face paled and his eyes widened. "Why?" he asked in a whisper.
"The rules begin. Discussion is over." Sister Verna and Sister Elizabeth moved behind Sister Grace as she spoke, standing with their hands at their sides as the black haired woman held the collar out in her hands. "This is no game. From now on, it can go only by the rules. Listen carefully, Richard.
"You will be offered three chances to take the Rada'Han; three chances to take our help, a Sister for each chance. There are three reasons for the Rada'Han, a Sister to reveal each. Before each offer, and chance to refuse, a different Sister will give you one of the reasons. After each reason, you will be offered the chance to accept or refuse.
"After the third refusal, as I hope you never learn, there are no more chances. You will receive no further help from the Sisters of the Light. You will die from the power of the gift."
Richard's hand still clutched at his throat. His voice was still hardly more than a whisper. "Why do I have to wear a collar?"
Sister Grace stiffened with authority. "No discussion. You will listen. You must put the Rada'Han around your neck yourself, of your own free will. Once on, you will not be able to remove it. It can only be removed by a Sister of the Light. It will stay on until we say it comes off. We will only say that when you are trained. Not before."
Richard's chest heaved with each labored breath. His stare was fixed on the collar. His eyes had a strange, wild, haunted look she had never seen before. Kahlan was frozen at seeing his terror, at her own terror.
Sister Grace held his eyes with a vengeance when he looked up at her. "Your first offer is at hand. Each offer comes from a different sister. The first offer comes from me.
"I, Sister of the Light, Grace Rendall, give the first reason for the Rada'Han, give the first chance to be helped. The first reason for the Rada'Han is to control the headaches and open your mind so you may be taught to use the gift.
"You now have the chance to accept or to refuse. I strongly advise you to accept the first offer of our help. Please believe me, it will only be much more difficult for you to accept the second time, and worse yet the third time.
"Please, Richard, accept the offer now, on the first of the three reasons and offers. Your life depends on this."
She stood still, waiting. His gaze went back to the dull silver collar. He looked on the verge of panic. The room was dead quiet except for the slow crackle of the fire and the soft hiss of the torches.
He looked up, and his mouth opened, but no words came as he stared unblinking at her intense gaze.
At last he blinked and spoke in a hoarse whisper. "I will not wear a collar. I will never again wear a collar. For anyone. For any reason. Never."
She straightened a little, lowering the collar, looking genuinely surprised. "You refuse the offer and the Rada'Han?"
"I refuse."
Sister Grace stood a while, staring with what seemed to be a mix of sadness and worry. Pale, she turned to the two Sisters behind her. "Forgive me Sisters, I have failed." She handed the Rada'Han to Sister Elizabeth. "It is upon you now."
"The Light forgives you," Sister Elizabeth whispered as she kissed Sister Grace on each white cheek.
"The light forgives you," Sister Verna whispered, giving the same kisses.
Sister Grace turned back to Richard, her voice less steady. "May the Light cradle you always with gentle hands. May you someday find the way."
Holding Richard's gaze, she brought her hand up, giving it a flick. A knife appeared from her sleeve. But rather than a blade, it had what seemed to be a pointed, round rod coming from the silver handle.
Richard leapt back, drawing the sword in one swift, smooth motion. Its distinctive ring sounded in the air.
Deftly, Sister Grace flipped the knife in her hand so it stopped with the blade pointing not toward Richard, but toward herself. She held it with practiced grace, without taking her eyes from Richard.
And then she plunged the knife between her breasts.
There was a flash of light that seemed to come from within her eyes, and she collapsed to the ground, dead.
Richard and Kahlan both took a step back in wide-eyed shock and horror. Sister Verna bent and pulled the knife from the dead woman. She stood and looked at Richard.
"As we told you: this is no game." She slipped the silver knife into her cloak. "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. Don't forget, you must bury her yourself." Both Sisters pulled their hoods up. "You have been offered the first of three chances, and refused. We will return."
The two Sisters glided to the door and were gone.
The sword's point slowly settled to the ground. Richard stared at the dead woman, tears running down his face.
"I won't wear a collar again," he whispered to no one but himself. "Not for anyone."
With labored movements, he retrieved a small shovel and a handle from his pack, and hooked them onto his belt. He then rolled Sister Grace onto her back, folded her hands across her, and lifted her lifeless form in his arms. One arm s
lipped from its place, loose, swinging. Her head hung down, limp. Her dead eyes stared. Black hair dangled. There was a small blossom of blood on the front of her white blouse.
Richard's pained eyes sought Kahlan. "I'm going to bury her. I would like to go alone."
Kahlan nodded and watched him shoulder the door open. After it had been pushed shut, she sank to the ground and started crying.
10
She was sitting, staring into the fire when Richard came back. He had been gone a long time. After Kahlan had stopped crying, she had gone to tell Savidlin and Weselan what had happened, and then came back to the spirit house to wait for Richard. They had told her to come get them if she needed anything.
Richard sat down next to her and put his arms around her, his head on her shoulder. She ran her fingers through the back of his hair and held him close. She wanted to say something, but was afraid to say anything, so she just held him.
"I hate magic," he whispered at last. "It's going to come between us again."
"We won't let it. We just won't. We will think of something."
"Why did she have to kill herself?"
"I don't know," Kahlan whispered.
Richard took his arms away and fingered some of Nissel's leaves out of his shirt pocket. He sat chewing them as he gazed into the fire, a slight frown of pain on his face.
"I feel like running away, but I don't know where to go. How do you run away from something inside you?"
Kahlan rubbed her fingers back and forth on his leg. "Richard, I know this is hard for you to hear, but please listen. Magic isn't bad." He didn't object, so she went on. "How people use it is sometimes bad. Like the way Darken Rahl used it. I have had magic all my life. I've had to learn to live with who I am. Do you hate me because I have magic?"
"Of course not."
"Do you love me despite my magic?"
He thought a minute. "No. I love everything about you, and your magic is part of you. That was how I got past the Confessor's magic. If I would have loved you despite your power, I wouldn't have been accepting you for who you are. Your magic would have destroyed me."
Stone of Tears Page 16