Stone of Tears (107 page)

She heard Richard’s words in her mind:
You have to be able to shoot no matter what is happening. Just you and the target, that’s all there is. Nothing else matters. You have to be able to block everything else out. You can’t think about how afraid you are, or what will happen if you miss. You have to be able to make the shot under pressure.

She remembered how he had whispered to her, whispered for her to call the target.

With a jolt, the target came to her, as if the wizard were standing right in front of her. She could see the flashes of liquid light jumping from his fingertips.

She could see her target—the bump in his throat bobbing up and down as he laughed. She let her breath flow out, as Richard had taught her. The arrow found the notch in the air.

As gentle as a babies breath, the arrow left the bow.

She saw the feathers clear the bow. She saw the string hit her wrist. The stone vine wrapped around her throat. She kept her eyes on the target. She watched the feathers of the arrow as it flew. The pain tearing her insides rose with his laughter.

The wizard’s laughter cut off abruptly. Kahlan heard the thunk of the blade hitting his throat. When the stone vine suddenly dropped away, she fell forward on her hands and knees, tears dripping from her face, as she waited for the pain to melt away. It went with merciful swiftness.

Kahlan staggered to her feet. “To the Keeper with you, too, wizard Neville Ranson!”

There was an ear-splitting crack, like a lightning strike, but instead of a flash of light, a ripple of total darkness swept across the room. Bumps rippled up her arms. The lamps flickered back on.

Kahlan knew—the Keeper had indeed taken wizard Neville Ranson.

She heard a grunt, and turned just in time to see a guard leaping down the steps toward her. Kahlan ducked and came up under him as he landed. She used his momentum to loft him over the railing, into the well below.

He snatched at her as he went over, but his fingers caught only her necklace. It tore from her, and went down with him. Kahlan bent over the railing, seeing him smack the stone floor, three flights down. She saw the necklace tumble from his hand when he hit, and slide across the floor.

“Curse the good spirits,” she growled.

Kahlan started for the stairs to retrieve her bone necklace, but skidded to a stop and looked up at the sound of boots on stone. More guards were coming. She hesitated for a moment, looking down, and then ran for the hallway instead. The spirits hadn’t helped her, what good was a necklace going to do. It wasn’t worth her life.

Kahlan caught the others as they made the outside doors. They all sighed with relief to see her, and hear that the wizard wouldn’t be coming after them. Kahlan led as they ran out into the night. The four of them raced down the expanse of steps to the relentless sound of the alarm bells behind. She headed south—the shortest distance to the woods.

A breathless Jebra caught her arm, dragging her to a stop. “Mother Confessor … !”

“I am not the Mother Confessor any longer. I am Kahlan.”

“Kahlan then. But you must listen to me. You cannot run away.”

Kahlan turned back to the path through the courtyard. “I’m through with this place.”

“Zedd needs you.”

Kahlan spun back. “Zedd? You know Zedd? Where is he?”

Jebra gulped air. “Zedd sent me to Aydindril. The day after you left D’Haran. He said he had to go get a woman named Adie, and then he would come to the Wizard’s Keep. He sent me here to help you and Richard, and have you wait. Zedd needs you.”

Kahlan gripped Jebra’s shoulders. “I need Zedd. I need him very badly.”

“Then you must let me help you. You must not leave. They will expect you to run, and will search the countryside. They will not expect you to remain in Aydindril.”

“Remain? Stay in Aydindril?”

She thought a moment. She was known in Aydindril. No, not exactly. Her long hair was known. People other than Councilors, ambassadors, staff, and nobility rarely saw the Mother Confessor up close, and when they did they mostly stared at her long hair. She no longer had that hair.

The thought of her loss made her insides knot up. She hadn’t known how much her power, and her long hair, meant to her—until they were gone.

“It might work, Jebra. But where would we hide?”

“Zedd gave me gold. No one knows of my involvement in your escape. I will rent rooms and hide you, all of you.”

Kahlan considered it a moment, then smiled. “We could be your servants. A lady like you would have servants.”

Jebra shrank back. “Mother Confessor, I could not do that. I am nothing but a servant myself. Zedd made me pretend to be a lady. But I could not pretend that. You are a true lady.”

“Being a servant does not make you less than me. We all can be only who we are, no more, no less.” Kahlan started them all off again, toward a part of Aydindril with quiet, secluded, and exclusive inns. “And it is startling to learn what you can do when you have to. We will do what we must. But if you keep calling me ‘Mother Confessor,’ you are going to get us all killed.”

“I will do my best … Kahlan. All I know is that we must wait until Zedd returns to Aydindril.” She tugged insistently on Kahlan’s sleeve. “Mother Confessor, where is Richard! It is vital!” Her voice lowered with unease. “No slight intended, and I pray none is taken, but it is Richard that is important. Zedd needs Richard.”

“That is why I need Zedd,” Kahlan said.

Richard grabbed an arm of each boy. “Slow down,” he said in a low voice. “I told you, I have to go first.”

Kipp and Hersh sighed impatiently. Richard checked around the corner, peeking down the hall, and then pushed the two boys up against the wall. Frogs kicked in their pockets.

“This is serious. I picked you two because I know you’re the best. Now, you do as I told you, the way we planned it. Stay here, with your backs to this wall, and count to fifty. You don’t so much as peep around the corner until you get to fifty. I’m depending on you to do it right.”

They grinned. “We’re your men,” Kipp said. “We’ll get them out of there.”

Richard squatted and put a finger close to each face in turn. “This is serious business. This isn’t just some game. This time you could get in real trouble. Are you sure you want to do this?”

Kipp put his hands in his pockets, feeling the frogs. “You came to the right men. We can do it. We want to do it, Richard.”

They were excited because they had never made it past the guards before. This was uncharted territory for their specialty. Richard knew they didn’t appreciate the danger involved, and he hated to have to use them in this manner, but it was the only thing he could think of.

“All right then, start counting.”

Richard rounded the corner and swept down the hall, his mriswith cape billowing open. When he reached the proper door, he stood against the white marble wall opposite the double doors and drew the hood up. He pulled the cape closed and concentrated on the marble behind him.

He stood motionless. The boys burst around the corner, yelling and screaming at the top of their lungs as they ran down the hall. The stopped in front of the double doors, looking both ways. They didn’t see him standing behind them, and he knew they were wondering where he was hiding.

As they had been instructed, they threw the doors open and, giggling with excitement, began pulling frogs from their pockets and pitching them into the room. The two Sisters were frozen in surprise for only an instant. Richard watched as both came flying around their desks, one snatching up a rod. The boys heaved their last frogs with a squeal and raced away in opposite directions, shouting taunts of “Can’t catch us! Can’t catch us!”

Sisters Ulicia and Finella slid to a stop on the polished marble floor outside the doors. Richard held his breath. They almost slid right into him, and were only inches away.

The Sisters saw the boys make the turns at opposite ends of the hall. They threw they hands out. Pictures crashed to the floor as flashes of shimmering light knocked them from the walls at the end, but they missed the boys. Growling in anger, the Sisters parted, one dashing after each boy.

Richard waited until they had turned the corner, and then he stepped away from the wall, letting his concentration relax, letting the cape return to black. He wondered what it would look like if someone were to see it happen, to see a person seem to materialize out of the air.

The outer room was empty. Before the door between the desks, the air seemed to sparkle and hum. Experimentally, Richard put his hand into it. The air felt thick, but it seemed to have no harmful effect. He pressed himself through the sparkles and went through the door beyond.

The room inside, not quite as large as his own outer room, was dimly lit, and paneled in rich, dark wood. In the center sat a heavy walnut table piled with papers and books, and three candles. Down the length to each side were floor to ceiling bookshelves crammed full of disheveled books, and a few other odd objects.

An old woman, one of the cleaning staff, in a heavy, dark gray work dress, was standing on a stool, dusting a top bookshelf. She turned with surprise as he came to a halt. She glanced to the door, and then back to him.

“How did you …”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to startle you. I just came to see the Prelate. Is she about?”

The woman squatted, her foot searching for the floor. Richard gave her his hand. She smiled her appreciation as she brushed a wisp of graying hair back from her face. Most of it was drawn into a loose knot at the back of her head. Once she was standing on the floor, the top of her head only came up to the lower tip of his breastbone. Her body was on the wide side, as if she had once been taller, and a giant had put his hand on the top of her head and squashed her down a good foot.

She looked up, giving him a curious frown. “Did Sisters Ulicia and Finella let you come in?”

“No,” Richard said as he looked about the comfortably cluttered room. “They stepped out.”

“But they would have left a shield … “

“Ma’am, I must speak to the Prelate.” Across the room, Richard saw doors to a courtyard standing open. “Is she about?”

“Do you have an appointment?” She asked in a quiet, gentle voice.

“No,” he admitted. “I’ve been trying to get one for days. Those two wouldn’t cooperate, so I made my own appointment.”

She put a finger to her lower lip. “I see. But you must have an appointment. Those are the rules. I’m sorry.”

Richard started for the open doors. He was getting impatient, but kept his voice calm, as he didn’t want to frighten the old maidservant. “Look, ma’am, I must see the Prelate, or we are all going to have an appointment with the Keeper himself.”

Her eyebrows lifted in wonder. “Reeeeally.” She clicked her tongue. “The Keeper, is it. My, my, my.”

Richard stopped suddenly. He winced and let out a groan. He turned on his heel.

“You’re the Prelate, aren’t you?”

An impish grin came to her face, her eyes twinkling with it. “Yes, Richard, I guess I am.”

“You know who I am?”

She chuckled. “Oh, yes, I know.”

Richard sighed. “So you’re the one who runs this place?”

She laughed louder. “As I hear it told, you seem to be running it now. Been here hardly a month, and you have half the Palace wound around your will. I’ve been thinking about asking for an appointment to see you.”

Richard gave her a friendly scowl. “I would have granted it.”

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” She gave his arm a pat. “From now on, you may come to see me whenever you wish.”

“Then why wouldn’t you let me in before?”

She folded her hands together beneath her ample, rounded breasts. “A test, my boy. A test.” She smiled up at him. “I am impressed. I expected it to take you another six or eight months yet.”

The door burst open. Richard was jerked from his feet, yanked back by his collar, and smacked up against the wall. He was stuck tight, the wind knocked from his lungs. Two irate Sisters stood just inside the doorway with their fists on their hips.

“Now, now,” the Prelate said, “stop that, you two. Let the boy down.”

Richard thumped to the ground, glaring at the two Sisters. “I am the one who talked those two boys into doing as they did. What they did is my fault. If there is any revenge, it had better be against me, and not them. If you harm them, you will answer to me.”

One of the sisters took a step toward him. “Their punishment has already been ordered. This time, for once, they will learn a lesson.” She angrily pointed a stout rod at him. “You are going to have your own punishment to worry about.”

“Yes, Sister Ulicia,” the Prelate said, “I think punishment is in order.” The Sister gave Richard a self-satisfied smile. “Yours,” the Prelate said.

Sister Ulicia gaped. “Prelate Annalina?”

“Did I not give you specific instructions that Richard was not to be allowed in here?”

The two Sisters straightened. “Yes, Prelate Annalina.”

“And here he is. Standing in my office.”

Sister Ulicia pointed at the door. “But … we left a shield! He could not …”

“Oh? Could not?” The Sister’s hand dropped at seeing the Prelate’s wrinkled brow. “Seems I see him standing here. Do I not, Sisters?”

“Yes, Prelate Annalina,” the two said as one. “And so now your idea is to reward your own failure by going back to your posts, as if nothing had happened, and punish their success?” The Prelate clicked her tongue. “You two will take the punishment you have ordered for the two boys.”

The Sisters blanched. “But Prelate …” the second whispered. “You can’t have that done to a Sister.”

“Really, Sister Finella? What did you order for the boys?”

“To have their bottoms strapped … publicly … tomorrow morning, after breakfast.”

“That sounds fair. You two will take their place.”

“But Prelate,” Sister Ulicia whispered in astonishment. “We are Sisters of the Light. That would be humiliating.”

“Learning humility never harmed anyone. We are all humble before the Creator. For your failure, you will be strapped in their place.”

Sister Ulicia stiffened. “And if we fail to submit, Prelate Annalina?”

The Prelate smiled. “Then you would be telling me that you no longer deserve to be trusted, and further, that you no longer wish to be Sisters of the Light.”

They both bowed. When the door closed behind them, Richard lifted an eyebrow to the Prelate.

“I hope never to get on your wrong side, Prelate Annalina.”

She chuckled. “Please, call me Ann. That is what my old acquaintances call me.”

“I’d be honored to call you Ann, Prelate, but I’m not an old acquaintance.”

“You think not?” She smiled. “My, what a knowledgeable boy. Well, no matter. Call me Ann, anyway. Do you know why I punished them? Because you took responsibility for your actions. They did not recognize the importance of that. You are learning to be a wizard.”

“What do you mean?”

“You knew it was dangerous to cross those two, did you not?” Richard nodded. “Yet you used those boys, knowing that it was a possibility they could be hurt.”

“Yes, but I had to do it. It’s that important, and it was the only thing I could think of.”

“The burden of a wizard. That is what it is called. Using people. A wise wizard understands that he cannot do everything himself, and that if the matter is important enough, he must use other people to accomplish what must be done. Even if it is to cost those other people their lives. It is a rare ability, and vital to be a good wizard. Perhaps, to be a Prelate, too.”

“Ann, it is urgent. I must speak with you.”

“Urgent is it? Well then, why don’t we go for a walk in my garden, and we can talk about this urgent business.”

She placed her arm in his, and walked him through the open doorway. Outside, in the moonlight, was a grand, expansive courtyard, with trees, paths, flower beds, wild areas, and a lovely pond. The beauty of the garden didn’t register in Richard’s mind. He had hardly been able to eat or sleep since he had had his talk with Warren. If the Keeper escaped, he would have everyone, including Kahlan. Richard had to do something.

“Ann, there is great trouble in the world. I need your help. I need this collar off so I may go help.”

“That is what I am here for, Richard. To help. What is the trouble?”

“The Keeper …”

“The Nameless One,” she corrected.

“What difference does it make?”

“Calling him by his name calls his attention.”

“Ann, it’s just a word. It’s the meaning of the word that matters, not an arrangement of letters. Do you think that when you call the Keeper the Nameless One, instead, that he would be fooled into thinking you weren’t speaking of him? It’s a mistake to assume your enemies are ignorant, and you are clever.”

She gave a hearty laugh. “I have been waiting for a very long time for someone to figure that out.”

She paused with him at the edge of the pond. “What is ‘the pebble in the pond’?”

She gazed out over the water. “You are one, Richard.”

“You mean there is more that one?”

A small stone floated through the air, up into her hand. “Everyone has an effect on others. Some people inspire others to do great things. Some take people into crime with them. Those with the gift effect those around them even more. The stronger the Han, the stronger the effect.”

“What does that have to do with me? What does that have to do with a pebble in a pond?”

“You see all the duck weed floating on the surface? Say that is the other people, the world of life, and this pebble is you.” She tossed the stone into the pond. “See what happens? The ripples caused by you affect everyone else. Without you, all those ripples would not have happened.”

“So they float up and down, on the ripples. But the stone sank.”

She gave him a humorless grin. “Don’t ever forget that.”

The answer gave him pause. “I think you invest too much faith in me. You don’t know anything about me.”

“Perhaps more than you think, child. And what is it that concerns you about the Keeper?”

“Something must be done. He’s about to escape. One of the Boxes of Orden has been opened, the gateway is open. The Stone of Tears is in this world. I need to do something.”

“Ahh.” She smiled as she drifted to a stop. “So you, who was just thrown up against a wall by the Han of a mere Sister, wants to go off and battle the Keeper himself?”

“But things have happened. Something must be done.”

“I see you have been talking to Warren. A very bright young man, Warren. He is still young, though. Sometimes he needs direction. Guidance.” She tipped a branch closer. “He studies hard, and loves those books. I think he must know every smudge on them.”