Stone of Tears

by Terry Goodkind

  Richard regarded the spirit guide a long moment. His voice came softly. "I am sorry, Ma Ban Grid, that I had to kill your son. It wounds my heart to have done so. Know that had there been any other path, I would have taken it."

  The old man nodded, but couldn't bring forth words. He looked around at his men. He seemed suddenly ashamed. "I don't know what we are doing here," he whispered. "This is not the Bantak way."

  "It is the fault of false spirits. I am glad we were here to help you see the truth of it," Richard said.

  He nodded again and turned to his men, looking about at them, and then walked off toward their homeland. Kahlan let out a heavy sigh. Richard watched warily as the Bantak plodded off into the sunrise, dragging spears behind.

  "What do you make of that?" she asked when he turned to her at last.

  He rested his hand on the hilt of the sword and turned to watch the Bantak. "The Keeper is getting ahead of us." He looked back to her eyes. "He has taken the effort to discredit you. To discredit the Mother Confessor. He is laying traps for us. He has plans, and I don't have the slightest idea what they are."

  "What are we going to do?"

  "What we planned to do. Tonight we have the gathering, and tomorrow we are married and leave for Aydindril."

  She studied his face. "You really are a wizard," she said softly. "You used magic to break the Keeper's spell."

  His expression didn't change. "No, I'm not. It was just a little trick Zedd taught me. He said once that people are more afraid to die from magic than anything else, as if they would somehow be more dead. I used that fear and the Wizard's First Rule to make them believe it. It was a stronger fear than the one the spirits gave them."

  "And what of turning the Sword of Truth white?"

  He regarded her a long moment. "Do you remember when Zedd showed us how the sword works? How it couldn't harm anyone you think innocent?" She nodded. "Well, he was wrong. When it is white, you can kill anyone. Anyone. Even one you know to be innocent. Even one you love." His eyes hardened. "I hate magic."

  "Richard, the gift has just helped you save the lives of many people."

  "At what cost?" he whispered. "Whenever I even think of turning the sword white, all I can remember is how I did it to you, how I almost killed you with it."

  "But you didn't. Almost doesn't make bread rise."

  "That doesn't stop the pain of it. Or of having killed with the sword's white magic, and of knowing what I am capable of. It makes me feel like a Rahl." He let out a heavy breath and changed the subject. "I think we had better be very careful at the gathering tonight."

  "Richard... this puts a new light on things. We have been warned twice now of the danger of dealing with the spirits. Won't you reconsider the gathering?"

  He looked away. "What choice do I have? The Keeper seems to be ahead of us. Events are moving fast. The more we find out, the more we realize we don't know. We must learn what we can."

  "But maybe the ancestors' spirits won't be able to help us."

  "Then we will have learned something. We can't pass up the chance; too much is at risk. We have to try." He gently took her hand. "Kahlan... I can't allow myself to be responsible for this. To know it's my fault."

  She waited until his eyes came up. "Why? Because Darken Rahl is your father? You think you are responsible because you are a Rahl?"

  "Maybe. But Rahl or not, I can't be responsible for the Keeper having everyone. For having you. I have to find a way to stop it. Darken Rahl haunts me from the grave. Somehow I have caused this. I don't know how, but it's my fault. I have to do whatever it takes to stop it, or everyone will suffer. And the Keeper will have you, forever.

  "That thought scares me more than anything in my life has ever scared me. It wakes me with nightmares. There isn't anything I wouldn't do to stop him from getting you. I won't take a chance of missing anything, no matter the risk. I have to have the gathering." His gaze held hers. "Even though I fear it might be a trap, I have to try."

  "A trap?... You think it might be a trap?"

  "It could be. We have been warned. At least we can be alert for it." He looked down at her hand in his. "I won't have the sword in the gathering. Do you think you can call down the lightning if you have to?"

  Kahlan shook her head. "I don't know, Richard. I don't how I did it. It just happened. I don't know how to control it."

  He nodded as he rubbed the back of her hand with his thumbs. "Well, maybe you won't have to try. Maybe the ancestors' spirits will be able to help us. They helped us before."

  Richard reached up and gripped the Agiel. His gray eyes were filled with the pain of the headache. He sank down and put his head in his hands as she sat next to him. "I have to rest a while before we go back. This headache is killing me."

  She feared he was right, that the headache really was killing him. She ached for the next day when they could get to Zedd, get to help.

  *****

  It was late afternoon by the time they returned to the celebration, the banquet. Richard's head was a little better, but still hurt him enough to leave the pain in his eyes. The elders stood as the two of them approached the open pole shelter. The Bird Man stepped forward."What of the Bantak? Did you see them? There has been no word from Chandalen."

  Kahlan held the gold medallion out to him and let it drop in his hand when it came up.

  "We found them, to the north, as Richard said we would. Ma Ban Grid sent this as a gift to tell the Mud People that the Bantak will not make war with them. They made a mistake, and are sorry. We made them see that the Mud People mean them no harm. Chandalen has also made a mistake."

  The Bird Man nodded solemnly, and turned to a hunter standing nearby, telling him to bring back Chandalen and his men. Kahlan didn't think he looked as pleased as she thought he would be.

  "Honored elder, is something wrong?"

  His brown eyes seemed heavy. He glanced to Richard and back to her. "Two of the Sisters of Light have returned. They wait in the spirit house."

  Kahlan's heart jumped. She had hoped they wouldn't be back so soon. What had it been, only a few days? She turned to Richard.

  "The Sisters of the Light are waiting in the spirit house."

  Richard sighed. "Nothing is ever easy." He addressed the Bird Man. "Tonight is the gathering. Will you be ready?"

  "Tonight the spirits will be with us. We will be ready."

  "Be careful. Take nothing for granted. All our lives depend on it." He took her arm. "Let's see if we can put a stop to this."

  They walked together across the field, past the roar of the fires. People were still everywhere, eating, dancing, playing the boldas and drums. There were fewer children about. Some were off napping, but some still managed to dance and play.

  "Three days," he muttered.

  "What?"

  "It's been three days, almost, since they were here last. I will send them away, and tomorrow, we will be gone. When they come back in another three days, we will have been in Aydindril for two."

  She stared ahead as they walked. "That is if they keep to the same schedule. Who says they won't show up for the third time after only one day. Or one hour."

  She could feel his eyes on her, but she didn't look over when he spoke. "Are you trying to make a point?"

  "You only get three chances, Richard. I'm afraid for you. I'm afraid of the headaches."

  This time, she did look over, but he didn't. "I won't wear a collar. Not for any reason. Not for anyone."

  "I know," she whispered.

  He yanked the door open and strode into the spirit house. His jaw was set with determination. His eyes fixed on the two women standing in the center of the dimly lit room as he marched up to them. Both wore their cloaks with the hoods pushed back. Their faces, in mild frowns, seemed almost calm.

  Richard stopped in front of the two. "I have questions, and I want answers."

  "We are glad to see you are still well, Richard," Sister Verna said. "Still alive."

  "Why did Sist
er Grace kill herself? Why did you allow it?"

  Sister Elizabeth stepped in front of Sister Verna. She held the open collar in her hands. "We told you before, discussion is over. It is by the rules now."

  "I have rules too." With his fists on his hips, he looked to each woman in turn. "My first rule is that neither of you is going to kill herself today."

  They ignored him. "You will listen. I, Sister of the Light, Elizabeth Myric, give the second reason for the Rada'Han. Give the second chance to be helped. The first of the three reasons for the Rada'Han is to control the headaches and open your mind so you may be taught to use the gift. You have refused the first chance to be helped. I bring the second reason and offer."

  She watched his eyes as if to be sure she had his full attention. "The second reason for the Rada'Han is so that we may be able to control you."

  Richard glared at her. "Control me? What does that mean, to control me?"

  "It means what it says."

  "I'm not putting a collar around my neck so you may 'control' me." He leaned a little closer. "Or for any other reason."

  Sister Elizabeth held the collar up. "As you were told before, it is more difficult for you to accept the second offer. Please believe us, you are in great danger. Your time is running out. Please Richard, accept the second offer now, on the second of the three reason and offers. It will only be much more difficult to accept on the third of the three reasons."

  There was something in his eyes Kahlan had seen only once before—the last time the collar was held out to him. Something alien, something frightening. It sent a chill through her. Goose bumps rose on her arms. The anger left his voice.

  "I told you before," he whispered. "I will not wear a collar. For anyone. For any reason. If you want to teach me to use the gift, to control it, we can talk about it. There are things going on you know nothing about: important things, dangerous things. I have responsibilities as the Seeker. I am not a child like you are used to dealing with. I am an adult. We can talk about it."

  Sister Elizabeth stared at him with fierce intensity. Richard retreated a half step. His eyes closed, and he shook slightly. At last, he straightened. His eyes came open as he took a deep breath. He returned the Sister's stare. Something had happened, and Kahlan had no idea what it was.

  The strength in Sister Elizabeth's eyes waned. Her hands lowered the collar. Her voice came in a fearful whisper. "Will you accept the offer and the Rada'Han?"

  Richard stood staring at her. The power was back in his voice. "I refuse."

  Sister Elizabeth went pale as she stared back for a moment before turning to the woman behind her. "Forgive me Sister, I have failed." She put the Rada'Han in Sister Verna's outstretched hand. Her voice came in a whisper. "It is upon you now."

  Sister Verna kissed her on each cheek. "The Light forgives you, Sister."

  Sister Elizabeth turned back to Richard, her face gone slack. "May the Light cradle you always with gentle hands. May you someday find the way."

  Richard stood with his fists on his hips as he watched her eyes. She lifted her chin. As Sister Grace had done, she brought her arm up and with a flick of her wrist brought the silver handled knife to her hand. Richard continued to watch her as she flipped it around toward herself. Kahlan watched, holding her breath, spellbound, as the woman prepared to kill herself. The silence seemed thick. For a heartbeat, everyone was stone still.

  The instant the knife began to move, Richard did too. His speed was shocking. Before Sister Elizabeth realized what had happened, Richard had her by her wrist. His other hand came up and began prying the odd knife from her fingers as she struggled to keep ahold of it. She was no match for his strength.

  "I told you my rule, you are not allowed to kill yourself today."

  Her face twisted with futile effort. "Please! Let go—"

  Her body flinched. Her head jerked back. There was a flash of light that seemed to come from within her, from within her eyes. Sister Elizabeth crumpled forward to the ground, Sister Verna pulling her own knife from the woman's back as she fell.

  Sister Verna's gaze rose from the dead woman to Richard. "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."

  "You killed her! You murdered her! What's the matter with you! How could you kill her!"

  She tucked her knife up her sleeve as she glared at him. She reached out, snatching the silver knife from his hand and slipped it in her cloak.

  "You killed her," Sister Verna whispered.

  "Your hands have the blood on them!"

  "So does the executioner's axe, but it doesn't wield itself."

  Richard lunged for her throat. She didn't move; she simply continued to stare at him. His hands stopped before reaching her. Richard shook, straining against an invisible barrier as she watched him.

  In that instant, Kahlan knew what the Sisters were.

  Richard relaxed the pressure of pushing against the barrier. He pulled his hands back a little. He visibly relaxed. Gently, his face gone calm, he reached one hand toward Sister Verna. His fingers clutched around her throat. Her eyes went wide with shock.

  "Richard," she whispered angrily, "Take your hand from me."

  "As you have said, this is no game. Why did you kill her?"

  His weight came off his feet. Richard floated a few inches into the air. He tightened his grip on her throat. When he didn't release her, fire ignited all around them, roaring to life, a whorl of flame closing around him.

  "I said, take your hand from me."

  In a moment more, the fire would consume Richard. Before she realized what she was doing, Kahlan had her fist out toward the Sister. Blue light crackled all around her wrist and hand. Little threads of blue lightning escaped from the sides as she struggled to restrain herself from releasing the bolt of power. Wisps of blue fire sizzled forth, throughout the spirit house, up the walls, across the ceiling and floor, everywhere except where the other two stood. She shook with the strain of holding back the power.

  "Stop it!" The threads of blue lightning sucked the fire into them. "There will be no more killing today." The blue light extinguished.

  Silence again filled the room as Sister Verna stared at Kahlan. A hard edge of anger stole into her eyes. Richard settled to the ground and took his hand from the woman's throat.

  "I wouldn't have harmed him. I only meant to frighten him into releasing me." She turned her glare to Richard. "Who taught you to break a web?"

  "No one taught me. I taught myself. Why did you kill Sister Elizabeth!"

  "You taught yourself," she mocked. "I told you. This is no game. It must go by the rules." Her voice lost its edge. "I have known her for many years. If you had ever turned that sword of yours white, you would understand what it took for me to do as I did."

  Richard didn't tell her he had turned the sword white. "You would expect me to put myself in your hands, after what you have done?"

  "Your time is running out, Richard. After what I have seen today, I would be surprised if the headaches don't soon kill you. I don't know why it is that the pain hasn't already put you down. Whatever is protecting you won't last much longer. I know you don't like to see anyone die. Neither do we, but please believe that what is done is done for you, to save you."

  She turned to Kahlan. "Be very careful with that power of yours, Mother Confessor. I doubt you have the slightest idea how dangerous it is." Sister Verna pulled her hood up as her brown eyes turned to Richard. "You have been offered the first and second of three chances, and refused. I will return." She leaned a little closer. "You only have one chance left. If you refuse it, you will die. Think on it carefully, Richard."

  After the door closed behind Sister Verna, Richard squatted next to the dead Sister. "She was doing something to me. Magic. I could feel it."

  "What did it feel like?"

  Richard shook his head a little. "The first time they were here, I th
ought I felt something pulling me to accept their offer, but I was so afraid of the collar, I paid it no attention. This time, it was much stronger. It was magic. The magic was trying to force me to say yes, to accept the offer from the Sisters. I just thought about the collar until the force left and I was able to say no."

  He looked up at her. "You have any idea what's going on? What she was doing, and what Sister Verna did, with the fire, and the rest of it?"

  Kahlan's hand still tingled from the blue lightening. "Yes. The Sisters are Sorceresses."

  Richard rose smoothly to his feet. "Sorceresses." He watched her eyes for a long moment. "Why would they kill themselves when I said no?"

  "I think, it is to pass their power on to the next Sister, to make her stronger for when they try again."

  He looked down at the body. "Why would I be so important, that they would kill themselves to get me?"

  "Maybe it is as they say. To help you."

  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "They don't want one man, a stranger, to die, yet two of them have already died trying to get me to accept their help so a life wouldn't be lost? How does that add up?"

  "I don't know, Richard, but I'm so scared it hurts. I'm afraid they could be telling the truth: that you don't have much time, and the headaches are killing you. I'm afraid you won't be able to control them much longer." Her voice broke with emotion. "I don't want to lose you."

  Richard slipped his arms around her. "It will be all right. I will bury her. The gathering will be in a few hours. Tomorrow we will be in Aydindril and then I will be safe. Zedd will know what to do."

  She could only nod against his shoulder.

  16

  Kahlan sat naked in the circle with eight naked men. Richard was to her left, painted, as were she and the elders, with the black and white mud except in a small circle in the center of his chest. In the dim light coming from the small fire behind her, she could see the wild jumble of lines and swirls sweeping diagonally across his face. They all wore the same mask, so that the ancestors' spirits might see them. She wondered if she looked as savage to him as he looked to her. The unfamiliar, acrid smell from the fire made her nose itch. None of the elders scratched their noses; they only stared at nothing and chanted sacred words to the spirits.