Stone of Tears (111 page)

The Prelate was sitting with her hands folded on the heavy walnut table. Her solemn eyes watched him come. Richard pressed up against the table, towering over her.

“I must admit, Richard,” she said in a somber tone, “that I have not been looking forward to this visit.”

His straining voice broke. “Why didn’t Sister Verna tell me?”

“I ordered her not to.”

“And why did you not tell me?”

“Because I wanted you first to learn some significant things about yourself, so you would be better able to understand your importance. The burden of a wizard, and of a Prelate, too.”

Richard sank to his knees before her desk. “Ann,” he whispered, “please, help me. I must have the Rada’Han off. I love Kahlan. I need her. I need to get back to her. I’ve been gone a long time. Please, Ann, help me. Take the collar off.”

She closed her eyes for a long moment. When they opened, they were heavy with regret.

“I spoke the truth, Richard. We cannot get the Rada’Han off until you learn enough to help us. That will take time.”

“Please, Ann, help me. Isn’t there any other way?”

Slowly, her eyes staying on his, she shook her head. “No, Richard. Over time, you will come to accept it. They all do. It is easier for the rest, because they come here as boys, not understanding, and grasp it only over time. We have never had to tell one grown, like you, who could understand the significance.”

Richard couldn’t make himself think clearly. It felt as if he were stumbling in a dark dream. “But, we’ll lose so much time together. She will be old. Everyone I know will be old.”

Ann smoothed her hair back as she averted her eyes. “Richard, by the time you are trained and leave here, the great, great, great grandchildren of everyone you know will have died of old age and been buried in the ground for over a hundred years.”

He blinked at her, trying to comprehend the math of the generations involved, but it all turned to mush in his mind. He suddenly remembered what Shota had warned him of—a trap in time. This was that trap.

He had been stripped of everything by these people. Everything he loved was gone. He would never see Zedd again, or Chase, or anyone he knew. He would never hold Kahlan again. He would never be able to tell her that he loved her, that he understood the sacrifice she had made for him.

Richard looked up from where he sat on the floor to see Warren in the doorway. He hadn’t heard the knock. When he said nothing, Warren rushed over and squatted down beside him.

“Listen, Richard, something you said made me think. You said that you were going to wed the Mother Confessor.”

Richard’s mind came out of the daze and his eyes suddenly came up. “The prophecy is about her, isn’t it. The prophecy you said would come on winter solstice.”

“I think it might be. But I don’t know enough about her, about Confessors, to tell. Does the Mother Confessor wear white?”

“Yes. The Confessors are born to find the truth. She is the last one.”

“Richard, I think that is good news. I think she is to find happiness, and bring it to her people, on winter solstice.”

Richard remembered the vision he had had in the Tower of Perdition. He remembered the horror of what he had seen. The words Kahlan had spoken were burned into his memory. He quoted it to Warren.

“
Of all there were, but a single one born of the magic to bring forth truth will remain alive when the shadow’s threat is lifted. Therefore comes the greater darkness of the dead. For there to be a chance at Life’s bond, this one in white must be offered to her people, to bring their joy and good cheer.
”

“Yes! That’s it! I believe that the ‘greater darkness’ means both the Keeper, and winter solstice. I think that means … Richard, where did you read that prophecy?”

“I didn’t read it. It was brought to me in a vision of her.”

Warren’s eyes grew big, the way they tended to do when he was astonished. “You had a vision of Prophecy?”

“Yes, she brought me the words, and also brought a vision of what it means.”

“What does it mean?”

Richard brushed at his pant leg. “I can’t tell you. She said that I could speak the words, but not of the vision. I’m sorry, Warren, but I dare not violate that warning without knowing the consequences. But I can tell you that the results of this prophecy coming true would not be joyful for her, or for me.”

Warren considered a moment. “Yes. You are right.” He looked over out of the corner of his eye. “Richard, there is something about prophecy I think I should tell you. Hardly anyone knows this, but the words don’t always reflect the true intent.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, a few times when I have read prophecies, I’ve had a vision. The vision turns out to be true, and so does the prophecy, but not in the way you would think from reading it. I believe that the true way prophecy is meant to be understood is through the gift, through the visions.”

“Do the Sisters know this?”

“No. I think this is what it means to be a prophet. Richard, if you had this vision, and heard the words, and saw the meaning, maybe that means you are a prophet.”

“According to the Prelate, I have a different talent. If she is right, then having the vision might just be part of my ability for what I truly am.”

“Which is?”

“The Prelate said I’m war wizard.”

His eyes widened again. “Richard, war wizards have the gift for both Magics. None with the gift for Subtractive, too, has been born in … in thousands of years. Maybe the Prelate is wrong.”

“I hope she is, but it would explain some things. From what a friend of mine told me, Additive Magic is using what is, adding to it, multiplying it, altering it; the doing of things. Subtractive Magic is the counter, the undoing of things.

“All the shields are put up by the Sisters. They have only Additive. Even those with the gift cannot easily go through them, or break them, because they also have only Additive. Power against power. But somehow I’m able to walk right through the shields around here without even trying.

“Subtractive Magic would explain that. Subtractive would counter the Additive of the shields; undo it.”

“But you said you tried to go through the barrier that keeps us from leaving. That’s a shield, too. Why can’t you go through that shield, then, if you really have the Subtractive?”

Richard lifted an eyebrow and leaned in. “Warren, who put those shields in place.”

“Well, the ones who placed the rest of the magic of the Palace, the wizards of old …”

“Who you said had Subtractive Magic. That shield is the only one placed by them. It’s the only one I can’t go through. It’s the only one my Subtractive Magic, if I truly have it, wouldn’t counter. See what I mean?”

Warren sat back on his heels. “Yes …” He rubbed his chin as he thought. “Well, that would make sense. It might fit with some of the prophecies about you. If you really are a war wizard, and are the one born true.”

“And do these prophecies say I will prevail?”

Warren hesitated. He glanced over at the Sword of Truth lying on the floor nearby. “If I said ‘white blade,’ would that mean anything to you?”

Richard let out a heavy breath at the memory. “I can turn the blade of my sword white, through magic.”

Warren wiped his hand over his face. “Then I think we might be in trouble. There is a prophecy that says,
‘Should the forces of forfeit be loosed, the world will be shadowed yet by darker lust through what has been rent. Salvation’s hope, then, will be as slim as the white blade of the one born True.’
”

“Through what has been rent. The open gateway,” Richard said.

“That would make ‘the darker lust’ be the Keeper.”

“Warren, I have to do something about the prophecy. The one about the one in white. It’s important. Do you have any ideas?”

Warren watched him, as if trying to decide something. “I do. I don’t know if it will help.” He put weight on his hands as he rubbed them on his thighs. “They have a prophet here, at the Palace. I’ve never seen him. I want to, but they won’t let me. They say it’s too dangerous for me to talk to him until I learn more. They promised that when I learn enough, they will let me talk with him.”

“Here in the Palace? Where?”

Warren pulled a fold of his robes from under his knees. “I don’t know. It would have to be one of the restricted areas, but I don’t know which one, and I don’t know how we can find out.”

Richard stood. “I do.”

Richard knew he had gone to the right guard when swordsman Kevin Andellmere turned white as a spirit at the mention of “The Prophet.” He was reluctant, feigning ignorance at first, but when Richard gently reminded him of all the favors, Kevin whispered the location.

The compound Kevin had divulged was one of the most heavily guarded. Richard knew where all the guards were stationed because he had gathered white roses there, and had been up on the wall, to “look out at the sea.” He also knew all the guards. They were frequent visitors to the prostitutes he provided.

He didn’t slow at the outer gate, but simply gave a nod to the wink the guards gave him. The guards at the rampart were considerably more reticent, stammering and holding out a hand to halt him. He shook the hand, pretending that he thought that was what was meant by it. They finally sighed and resumed their post as he marched away, his mriswith cape billowing open.

At the end of the rampart was a small colonnade, and at the end of that, winding stairs that led down to the Prophet’s quarters. The guards at the door he wanted were the two he had had trouble winning over at first, and the first to receive his gift of female company. They stiffened when they saw him.

Richard casually made for the door between them. “Walsh, Bollesdun, how you doing?”

They crossed their pikes over the door. “Richard, what are you doing down here? The roses grow up top.”

“Look, Walsh, I have to go see the Prophet.”

“Richard, don’t put us in this spot. You know we can’t let you in. The Sisters would skin us alive.”

Richard shrugged. “I won’t tell them you let me in. I’ll say I tricked you. If anyone finds out, which they won’t, just tell them I snuck by, and you didn’t know until I was on my way out. I’ll back your story.”

“Richard, you’re really …”

“Have I ever done anything to cause trouble? Have I ever done anything but help all you men? I buy you drinks, I loan you money when you need it, I let you have free access to the girls, and it never costs you a copper. Have I ever asked for anything in return?”

Richard had his hand on the hilt of the sword. One way, or another, he was going through that door.

Walsh pushed a stone chip with his boot. With a heavy sigh, first one, and then the other, pulled their pikes up. “Bollesdun, go make your rounds. I’m going to the privy for a sit.”

Richard took his hand from his sword and gave the man a pat on the shoulder. “Thanks, Walsh. I appreciate it.”

Halfway down the inner hall, Richard felt layers of resistance, shields, like were outside the Prelate’s door, but they only slowed him a bit. The room inside was as spacious as his own, but perhaps more elegantly appointed. One wall held large tapestries, and another expansive bookshelves. Most of the books, though, seemed to be scattered about the room, on chairs and couches and covering the blue and yellow carpets on the floor.

Richard could see the back of a man in the chair beside the cold hearth.

“You must tell me how you do that,” the man said in a deep, powerful voice. “I would be most interested in learning the trick.”

“Do what?” Richard asked.

“Walk through shields as if they weren’t there. Burns the flesh right off me if I try.”

“If I ever figure it out myself, I’ll let you know. My name is Richard. If you’re not busy, I would like to speak with you.”

“Busy!” The man gave a hearty laugh. When he stood, Richard was a little surprised at how big he was. His long white hair had made Richard think he might be old and shriveled. Old, he was, shriveled he was not. He looked strong and full of vitality. His smile was welcoming and threatening at the same time. He wore a Rada’Han, the same as Richard.

“My name is Nathan, Richard. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. I didn’t expect you would find your way in alone.”

“I wanted to come alone so we could talk freely.”

“And do you know that I am a prophet?”

“I didn’t come here to learn to bake bread.”

Nathan’s smile widened, but he didn’t laugh. His brows pulled together like a hawk’s. His voice took on a hiss. “Would you like me to tell you of your death, Richard? How you are to die?”

Richard flopped down on the couch and plunked his feet up on a table. He returned the hawklike glare and threatening smile in kind. “Sure. I’d love to hear all about it. And then when you’re done, I will tell you how you are to die.”

Nathan lifted an eyebrow. “And are you a prophet?”

“Enough of one to tell you how you are to die.”

The frown turned curious. “Really. Tell me then.”

Richard took a pear from a bowl on the table, polished it on his pant leg, and took a bite. He spoke as he chewed. “You are going to die right here, in these rooms, of old age, without ever seeing the outside world again.”

The creases in Nathan’s face deepened as his expression sagged. “Seems you are a prophet, my boy.”

“Unless you help me. Maybe if you help me, I’ll be able to come back here and help you get out, too.”

“And what is it you want?”

“I want this collar off.”

Nathan gave him a sly grin. “Seems we share a common interest, Richard.”

“But the Sisters say I will die without it.”

The sly grin widened. “They demand truthfulness from others, but rarely inconvenience themselves with it. The Sisters have their own agenda, Richard. There is more than one path through the woods.”

“The Sisters say I must learn to use my Han, in order to get it off. They don’t seem to be helping much in that.”

“It would be easier to teach a stump to sing than for a mere Sister to teach you to use your Han. You have Subtractive Magic. They can’t help you.”

“Can you help me, Nathan?”

“Perhaps.” Nathan sat down in his chair, leaning forward intently. “Tell me, Richard, have you ever read
The Adventures of Bonnie Day?
”

“Read it? It’s my favorite book. I read it until my eyes nearly wore the words off the page. I’d love to meet the person who wrote it, and tell them how much I liked the book.”