Stone of Tears (115 page)

Richard was exhausted, and was fighting on the pure rage and fury of the magic. She didn’t even seem winded. “You can’t win, Richard. I will have you.”

“Why! You can’t win in the end!”

“I will have my reward.”

He ducked behind a tree, just missing a swing that sent wood chips flying. “If you help the Keeper escape, he will swallow all life!”

“You think so? You think wrong. He will reward those who serve him. He will grant me things the Creator never could.”

He stabbed at her, but the sword slid to the side. “He’s lying to you!”

Her blade whistled past his face. Her calm, deliberate attacks were relentless. “We have a bargain. My oath seals it.”

“And you believe he will keep his end!”

“Join with us, Richard, and I will show you the glory that awaits those who serve him. You can live forever.”

Richard leapt to the top of a rock. “Never!”

She looked up with a cold detachment. “I thought this would be pleasurable, but I find I am growing bored.”

Liliana swept a hand out. Twisting, snaking lightning came from the hand, but it was not like any lightning he had ever seen before.

It was black lightning.

Instead of a bolt of light and heat, it was an undulating void, as dark as the night stone, as dark as the boxes of Orden, as dark as eternal death. The dim, moonlit scene seemed a sunny day in comparison.

Richard knew: he was seeing Subtractive Magic.

Liliana swept the black lightning across the rock beneath his feet. It effortlessly sliced a smooth-edged void through the rock. The remaining part he stood atop collapsed onto the half below. Trees behind for a good distance, severed in the same way, by the same black bolt, crashed to the ground in a roar of noise.

Richard lost his footing and toppled backwards onto the steep slope, tumbling down the hill. He threw his arms out to stop himself when he hit the flat at the bottom, and immediately rolled over onto his back. He looked up and gasped.

Liliana was standing right over him, her sword held high in both hands. By where she was looking, he knew she intended to cut off his legs. He froze at seeing her sword commence its descent.

What he was doing was not working. He had to do something else, or he was going to die.

Her blade was a blur in the moonlight. He released himself, gave sanction to his inner self, his gift. He would surrender to whatever was there, or he would die. It was his only chance. He found the calm center within, and did its bidding.

He saw the Sword of Truth thrusting upward. His knuckles were white with effort. The sword was a white glow in the gloomy light.

With all his force, he drove the hissing white blade into Liliana, under her ribs. When the tip severed her spine, coming out her back between her shoulderblades, she went limp. Only his sword and strength held her upright.

Her mouth dropped open in a gasp. Her sword fell, sticking in the ground to the side. Her wide, pale eyes stared down at him.

“I forgive you, Liliana,” Richard whispered.

Her arms twitched in an uncoordinated manner. Terror filled her eyes. She tried to speak, but only blood frothed forth.

There was an ear-splitting crack, like a lightning strike, but instead of a flash of light, a ripple of total darkness swept through the forest. Its touch made his heart skip a beat. When it lifted, the moonlight seemed dazzling, and Liliana was dead.

Richard knew—the Keeper had taken her.

Before, he had called the sword’s white magic, knowing full well what it meant. This time, he had done as Nathan had told him, and let his instinct, his gift, call it forth. It had been a surprise to him, both the instant calling of the white magic, and the fact that he had not consciously done it.

Something within had known that that was what was needed to counter the Keeper’s hate that filled Liliana. Richard was left stunned by what had happened. He stared down at Liliana as he withdrew his sword. He had confided in her. He had trusted her.

He realized that he was still where he had started—with the collar around his neck, and no ideas of how to get it off. Collar or no collar, he had to get through the barrier that kept him here. He decided that he would go get his things from the Palace, and then he would find a way through the invisible wall.

As he wiped the sword clean on her clothes, he recalled how it had been in the center of the clearing, a good distance from him. He had somehow called it to him, along with the magic. The sword had flown through the air, and come into his hand.

He set the sword on the ground, and experimentally called its magic. The anger, the fury, filled him, as always. He held his hand out and willed the blade to come to him. It laid rock solid on the ground. Try as he might, it would not so much as twitch.

Frustrated, he returned it to its scabbard. He pulled her sword from the ground and broke the blade over his knee. When he threw it aside, he noticed something white nearby.

White bones gleaming in the moonlight were mostly all that remained of the desiccated corpse. Only the top half was there. He assumed animals must have gotten the rest, but then he found the pelvis and legs, some distance away. Tattered remains of a dress that matched the top half still surrounded the leg bones.

Richard knelt, inspecting the upper body. Animals had not touched it. There was not a single tooth mark on any bone. It remained now, as it had fallen.

With a frown, he saw that the bones of the lower spine were shattered. He had never seen bones splintered in such a way. It was as if this woman had been blown in half, while alive.

He knelt silently, staring, wondering. Someone had killed this woman. Somehow, he knew: magic, had killed this woman.

“Who did this to you,” he whispered down at the corpse.

Slowly, a skeletal arm rose toward him in the moonlight. The fingers uncurled. A thin chain dropped down, dangling from the bones of a finger.

Richard, his hair feeling as if it were trying to stand on end, carefully took the chain from the fingers. There was a single object on the chain. He held it up in the moonlight and saw it was a lumpy piece of gold, formed into the letter “J”.

“Jedidiah,” Richard whispered, now knowing what made him do so.

As Richard approached, he noticed a commotion on the stone bridge. A crowd lined one edge, everyone looking down to the river. At the center, he eased his way through toward the low, walled railing. An he did, he saw Pasha at the crown, too, leaning out over the stone, looking down.

“What’s going on?” he asked as he came up behind her.

Pasha spun at the sound of his voice. She flinched when she saw him. “Richard! I thought …” She looked back over the railing, down to the river, and then back to him.

“You thought what?”

She threw her arms around his middle. “Oh, Richard! I thought you were dead! Thank the Creator!”

Richard pried her arms off and then leaned over, looking down to the dark river below. Several small boats, each with a lantern, were towing a body tangled in their hand-casting nets. In the flickering yellow light, he could see the red coat.

Richard ran over the bridge and down the banks, reaching the shore as the men were landing the boats. Grabbing the nets from a man, he hauled them and their load up onto the grassy bank.

There was a small, round hole in the lower back of the red coat. He rolled the body over and looked into Perry’s dead eyes. Richard groaned.

Wizard’s Second Rule.
Perry had died because Richard had violated it. He had tried to do something good, with the best of intentions, and it had brought harm. It was Richard the dacra had been meant for. It was he they thought they were killing.

Pasha was standing on the bank behind him. “Richard, I was so afraid. I thought it was you.” She started crying. “What was he doing in your red coat?”

“I loaned it to him.” He gave her a quick hug. “I have to go, Pasha.”

“You don’t mean, the Palace. You didn’t really mean what you said about leaving. I know you didn’t. You can’t leave, Richard.”

“I meant every word. Good night, Pasha.”

He left the men to their grisly task and headed for his room. Someone had meant to kill him, and it hadn’t been Liliana. Someone else was trying to kill him.

As he was loading his things into his pack, he heard a knock at his door. He froze, a shirt half-folded in his hands. Then he heard Sister Verna’s voice beyond the door, asking if she could come in.

Richard yanked the door open, preparing to launch into a tirade, but the look on her face caught the words in his throat. She stood woodenly, staring off at nothing.

“Sister Verna, what’s wrong?” He took her arm and led her into his room. “Here, sit down.”

She sank to the edge of the chair. Richard knelt in front of her and took her hands.

“Sister Verna, what’s wrong?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to return.” Her puffy, red eyes finally sought his. “Richard,” she said in a subdued voice, “I could really use a friend right now. You are the only one who came to mind.”

Richard hesitated, she knew his condition, though he now knew she couldn’t get the collar off.

“Richard, when Sisters Grace and Elizabeth died, they passed their gift to me. I have more power than any Sister at the Palace, any normal Sister. I know you won’t believe this, but I doubt even that will be enough to remove your collar. But I wish to try.”

Richard knew that she couldn’t remove it. At least he was told that she couldn’t. Maybe Nathan was wrong.

“All right. Try then.”

“There is pain involved …”

Richard’s brow drew together in a suspicious frown. “Why do I not find that surprising?”

“Not for you, Richard. For me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have discovered that you have Subtractive Magic.”

“What would that have to do with it?”

“You locked the Rada’Han on yourself. It locks on by using the magic of the one it is attached to. I have only Additive Magic. I don’t think that will be sufficient to break the bond.

“I have no power over your Subtractive Magic. It will fight what I try to do, and that will hurt me. But don’t be frightened. It won’t hurt you.”

Richard didn’t know what to do, what to believe. She put her hands to his neck, at the sides of his collar. Before she closed her eyes, he saw a glazed look he recognized. She was touching her Han.

Muscles tense, with his hand on the hilt of his sword, he waited, prepared to react if she tried to harm him. He didn’t want to believe Sister Verna would harm him, but then, he hadn’t thought Liliana would ever hurt him either.

Her brow wrinkled. Richard felt only a pleasant, warm tingle. The room vibrated with a dull hum. The corners of carpets curled up. Windows rattled in their frames. Sister Verna shook with effort.

The standing mirror in the bedroom shattered. Panes of glass in the doors exploded as the doors to the balcony banged open. The curtains billowed outward as if in a wind. Plaster fell from the ceiling, and a tall cabinet toppled over with a crash.

A low moan of pain issued from her throat as the flesh on her face trembled.

Richard seized her wrists and pulled her hands from his collar. She sagged forward.

“Oh, Richard,” she said in a mournful voice, “I’m sorry. I can’t do it.”

Richard took her in his arms and held her tight. “It’s all right. I believe you Sister. I know you tried. You have found a friend.”

She squeezed him tight. “Richard, you have to get away from this place.”

He sat her back in the chair as she wiped her fingers at the lower lids of her eyes. Richard rocked back on his heels. “Tell me what’s happened.”

“There are Sisters of the Dark in the Palace.”

“Sisters of the Dark? What does that mean?”

“The Sisters of the Light work to bring the light of the Creator’s glory to the living. Sisters of the Dark serve the Keeper. It has never been proven that they even exist. The accusation, without proof, is a crime. Richard, I know you aren’t going to believe me. I realize this sounds like I’m just—”

“I killed Sister Liliana tonight. I believe you.”

She blinked at him. “You did what?”

“She told me she was going to take my collar off. She had me meet her in the Hagen Woods. Sister Verna, she tried to take the gift from me, for herself.”

“She can’t do that. A female cannot take on the gift of a male, or the other way around. It isn’t possible.”

“She said she had done it many times before. It seemed possible to me when she was trying. I could feel her pulling the life, the gift, right out of me. She almost succeeded. I came close to death.”

She brushed back her curly hair. “But I don’t see how …”

Richard pulled out the statue. “She was using this. The crystal started glowing orange when she was doing it. Do you know what it is?”

Sister Verna shook her head. “I think I’ve seen it before, somewhere, but I can’t remember. It was so long ago. Before I left the Palace. What happened then?”

“When that didn’t work, because I used my power to stop her, she called a sword from the shadows. She wanted to wound me. She said she was going to skin me alive, and then steal my gift for herself. She tried to cut off my legs. Somehow, I got her first.

“Sister Verna, she had Subtractive Magic. I saw her use it. Not only that, but someone else is trying to kill me. I loaned my red coat to Perry. They just dragged his body out of the river. He had been stabbed in the back with a dacra.”

She grimaced. “Oh, dear Creator.” She twined her fingers together in her lap. “The Palace knows you have Subtractive Magic. They’re using you to flush out the Keeper’s disciples.” She took his hand. “Richard, I’ve been a part of this. I should have long ago questioned things that were wrong, but I did not. I instead did as I thought was right.”

“Questioned what?”

“Forgive me, Richard. You should never have had a Rada’Han put around your neck. It wasn’t necessary. I was told there were no wizards in the New World to help boys. I thought you would die without our help. Your friend, Zedd, could have kept the gift from harming you. The Prelate knew there were wizards to help you. She let you be stolen from your friends and loved ones for her own selfish reasons. You did not need the Rada’Han to save your life.”

“I know. I talked to Nathan. He told me.”

“You went to the Prophet? What else did he say?”

“That I have more power than any wizard born in three thousand years. But I have no idea how to use it. And that I have Subtractive Magic. He said that the Sisters could not remove the collar.”

“I’m so sorry I brought this upon you, Richard.”

“Sister Verna, you were deceived, as was I. You’re a victim, too. They’ve used both of us.

“There is worse trouble. There is a prophecy that says that on winter solstice, Kahlan is going to die. I must stop that from happening. And, Darken Rahl, my father, an agent of the Keeper, is in this world. You saw the mark he burned on me. He is an agent who can tear the veil if he has all the elements in place, though I doubt he does.

“Sister Verna, I have to get away from here. I must get through the barrier.”

“I will help you. Somehow, I will help you get through the barrier. Your problem will be the Valley of the Lost. I don’t think you can get through the Valley again. Now that the collar has helped your Subtractive Magic grow, you will call the spells to you. The magic will find you, this time.”

“I might have a way. I must try.”

Sister Verna thought a moment. “The Keeper would want to stop you, if there is a possibility for this prophecy about his agent to come to pass. The Sisters of the Dark will work to stop you. I am sure Liliana was not the only one.”

“Who placed her as my teacher?”

“The Prelate’s office assigns teachers. But the Prelate probably wouldn’t have done it herself. Such matters are usually handled by her administrators.”

“Her administrators?”

“Sisters Ulicia and Finella.”

“I thought they were her guards.”

“Guards? No. Maybe in a bureaucratic sense. The Prelate has more power that they. She does not need guards. Some of the boys think of them as guards, because they are always turned away from the Prelate’s door by the two Sisters. They do some of their work in the Prelate’s office, and they have their own offices where they handle a variety of administrative tasks.”

“Maybe the Sisters of the Dark came after me, decided they had to act now, because they had been discovered.”

“No. The Prelate told me no one but she knows.”

“Could anyone have overheard?”

“No. She shielded the room.”

Richard leaned in. “Sister Verna, Liliana had Subtractive Magic. The Prelate’s shield would not have worked against that. One of those two administrators assigned Sister Liliana to me.”

She drew a sudden breath. “And the other five. If one or both of those two in the outer office heard what the Prelate knows, then the Prelate … Sister Ulicia’s office—that’s where I saw that statue!”

Richard grabbed her wrist and yanked her from the chair.

“Come on! If they tried to kill me, they may try to kill the Prelate before she warns anyone else!”

The two of them raced down the stairs and out of Gillaume Hall. They crossed the lawns in the darkness, ran down halls and through passageways. Kevin wasn’t there, another guard was on duty, but he didn’t stop them, as he, too, knew Richard, and Sisters were not restricted.

Richard knew they were too late when he saw the charred doors to the Prelate’s office broken from their hinges. He slid to a stop on the slick marble floor of the hall. Papers and ledgers were scattered out into the hall.

Sister Verna was still running down the hall as he went into the office with his sword drawn. It looked as if a thunderstorm had been turned loose inside. What was left of Sister Finella lay on the floor behind her desk. The rest of her was splattered across the wall. He heard Sister Verna gasp as he kicked in the door to the Prelate’s office.

When the door swung back Richard dove through and rolled to his feet with his sword in both hands. The Prelate’s room was more of a mess than the outer room. Papers were nearly a foot deep over most of the floor. It looked as if all the books from the shelves had exploded, throwing the pages everywhere. The heavy walnut table was in splinters against the far wall. The room was in near darkness. Only the doorway behind and the open doors to the moonlit garden let in any light.

Sister Verna lit a bright flame in her palm. In the sudden illumination, he saw a form at the far end of the room near the overturned table. The head came slowly up. The eyes locked on his. It was Sister Ulicia.

Richard dove to the side as a bolt of blue lightning blasted through the room, ripping open the wall behind. Sister Verna returned the attack with a searing gout of yellow flame. Sister Ulicia dove through the doorway into the courtyard to avoid the fire. Richard went after her. Sister Verna ran to the overturned, splintered table, pawing scraps away.

“Duck!” Richard screamed back to her.

A twisting rope of the black lightning sliced through the walls right over his head as he flattened to the floor. Severed bookshelves crashed down. He could see through the void sliced by the black lightning into the next room, and the rooms beyond. Plaster and lath and stone collapsed down, raising boiling clouds of dust.