Stone of Tears (44 page)

From inside the house came a low growl interspersed with angry clicks. Something heavy thudded to the floor, accompanied by a thick oath in a foreign tongue.

“Come out from under there, you vile beast!”

Zedd grinned at the sound of the familiar, raspy voice. He watched the horse stroll off a ways to graze on tufts of dry grass, lifting her head, while she chewed, to look back toward the house at each sharp thump.

Zedd sauntered up the curving walk toward the house. He paused, turning full around twice to admire the beauty of the surrounding woods. They truly were a wonder, calm and peaceful in a place that had been a pass through one of the most dangerous spots in the world: the boundary. But the boundary was gone now. Yet, the woods were a serene refuge, imbued with an almost palpable tranquility that Zedd knew wasn’t natural. They had been infused with those qualities at the skilled hands of the woman who at that very moment was throwing curses bold enough to make a battle-hardened Sandarian lancer blush.

And he had seen one of those curse his own queen into a dead faint. That, of course, had only earned the man the rope. The fellow had had a few things to say to the hangman, too, which in turn didn’t bring him a clean drop, but did offer him the opportunity to get off one last eloquent, if vulgar, oath. The other lancers seemed to think the trade worth the price.

For her part, the queen never seemed to fully recover her delicate air, and thereafter always flushed a fabulous red at the mere sight of one of her lancers, needing to be fanned furiously by her attendants in order to remain conscious. She would probably have had them all hanged had they not saved her throne, to say nothing of her dainty neck, on more than one occasion. But that was a long time ago. in another war.

Clasping his hands together behind himself, Zedd inhaled deeply, relishing the clean, crisp air. Bending over, he plucked a dry, wilted, wild rose, and with a wisp of magic, brought it to fresh bloom. The yellow petals spread and swelled with new vitality. Closing his eyes, he took a deep whiff of the flower and then idly stuck it in his robes, over his breast. He was in no hurry.

It was not wise to interrupt a sorceress in a snit.

Through the open door came a more serious curse as the object of the sorceress’s ire was at last brought to account. With a whack from the blunt end of an ax, the thing was sent flying through the doorway. The small, armored beast landed on its back at Zedd’s feet. Wobbling, it clicked and growled as it raked the air with its claws, trying to right itself. It appeared no worse for the ax, or for its brief flight and rough landing.

Filthy gripper. It was a gripper that had attached itself to Adie’s ankle before. Once a gripper had you, there was virtually no way to get it off. It held on with those claws and rasped its teeth into you, down to bone, sucking your blood with its puckered, fang-ringed mouth. They never let go as long as there was blood to feed on, and that armor shed any counterattack.

Adie had used an ax to chop off her foot where the gripper had been attached, chopped off her own foot to save her life. Thinking about it turned his stomach. He watched the beast at his feet for a moment, then gave it a casual kick, sending it a goodly distance. Landing right-side-up, it waddled off into the woods in search of easier prey.

Zedd looked up at the figure standing in the doorway, scowling at him with her completely white eyes, her breast still heaving. She wore robes the same light burlap color as his, but unlike his, hers were decorated at the neck with yellow and red beads sewn in the ancient symbols of her profession. She put her fists on her hips. The scowl held a firm grip on her features, not that it diminished in the least how handsome they were.

She still held the ax in one hand, though, a worrisome sign. Best not to trouble her too quickly with what he wanted.

Zedd smiled. “Your really shouldn’t play with grippers, Adie. That’s how you lost your foot the last time, you know.” He plucked the yellow rose from its place at his chest. His thin lips pushed his wrinkled cheeks back farther as his smile widened. “Got anything to eat? I’m starving.”

She watched him silently for a moment without moving, then slipped the ax head to the floor and leaned the handle against the wall just inside the door. “What do you be doing here wizard?”

Zedd stepped onto the tiny porch and gave a dramatic bow. When he came up, he offered her the flower as if it were a priceless jewel. “I just couldn’t stay away from your tender embrace, dear lady.” He flashed his most irresistible smile.

Adie studied him a moment with those white eyes. “That be a lie.”

Zedd cleared his throat and pressed the flower closer. He thought maybe he need to practice his smile. “Is that stew I smell?”

Without taking her gaze from him, she accepted the flower, sticking it in her straight, jaw length black and gray hair. She truly was handsome. “It be stew.”

Her soft, thin hands took his. A small smile stole onto her finely wrinkled face and she gave a slight nod. “It be good to see you again, Zedd. For a time, I feared I never would. I spent many a night in a sweat, knowing what would happen had you failed. When winter came and the magic of Orden didn’t sweep the land, I knew you had succeeded.”

Zedd was encouraged that his best smile hadn’t been wasted after all, but he was careful with his answer. “Darken Rahl has been defeated.”

“What of Richard and Kahlan? Do they be safe?”

Zedd puffed up with pride. “Yes. In fact, Richard was the one who defeated Darken Rahl.”

She gave another nod. “I think there be more to the story.”

He shrugged, trying to make it seem less important than it was. “A bit of a tale.”

Though the small smile still rested easily on her face, her white eyes seemed to be weighing his soul. “And there be a reason you be here. A reason I fear I won’t like.”

He pulled his hands out of hers and pushed some of his unruly, wavy, white hair back while giving a frown. “Bags, woman, are your going to feed me any of that stew or not?”

Adie finally withdrew her white eyes from him and turned back into her home. “I think there be enough stew, even for you. Come in and shut the door. I do not wish to see another gripper tonight.”

Invited in. Well, things were going smoothly. He wondered how much he was going to have to tell her. Not all, he hoped. Wizard’s work: using people. The worst of it was using people he liked. Especially people he liked deeply.

As Zedd helped her right the chairs and table, and pick up the pots and tin plates strewn about the floor, he began telling her of the things that had happened since he had been with her last. He started with the harrowing tale of going through the pass, protected, somewhat, by the bone she had given him to hide him from the beasts. He still had the bone on a thin leather thong around his neck, seeing no need to be rid of it after he had gotten safely through.

She listened without comment as he wove the tale, and when he told of Richard’s capture by the Mord-Sith, she didn’t turn to show her face, but he saw the muscles in her shoulders tense for the briefest of moments. With no small amount of emphasis to make his point, he related how Darken Rahl had taken the night stone from Richard, the night stone she had given him to see him safely through the pass.

He scowled at her back as she picked a plate off the floor. “I was nearly killed by that stone. Darken Rahl used it to trap me in the underworld. I escaped by the thinnest of hairs. You almost got me killed, giving that thing to Richard.”

“Do not be a thick-headed fool,” she scoffed. “You be smart enough to save yourself. Had I not given the night stone to Richard, he would have died in the pass, and then Darken Rahl would have won, and right now would no doubt be torturing you. You would soon be dead. By giving the stone to Richard, I saved your life.”

He shook a leg bone of some sort at the glance she cast over her shoulder. “That thing was dangerous. You shouldn’t go handing out dangerous things as if it was a stick of candy. Not without warning people, anyway.” He had a right to be indignant. He was the one sucked into the underworld by that wretched stone. The woman could at least pretend to be contrite.

Zedd went on with the story of how Richard had escaped, although he had a web around him hiding his identity, and how the quads had attacked Chase, Kahlan and himself. He had to make an effort to control his voice at the telling of what had almost happened to Kahlan, and how she had called forth the Con Dar and killed their attackers. He finished with how Richard had tricked Darken Rahl into opening the wrong box. He told her how the magic of Orden had taken Darken Rahl for his mistake. Zedd smiled to himself as he reached the end of his story, telling her that Richard had somehow gotten past Kahlan’s power, that they were free to love each other—he wasn’t about to tell her how, that was not for anyone to know—and they were happily together now.

He was pleased that he had managed to tell the story without having to delve too deeply into some of the more painful events. He didn’t want to have to revisit some of those hurts. She didn’t ask any questions, but came and put a hand on his shoulder, saying that she was relieved all of them had survived, and won.

Zedd was silent after the telling, at least as much as he wanted to tell, of the tale. He set to stacking the pile of loose bones into the corner where she said they belonged. By the way they were scattered about, the gripper must have sought refuge in them. A sorry mistake.

That people called Adie “the Bone Woman” was small wonder; the house had little else in it. Her life seemed devoted to bones. A sorceress dedicated to bones was a troubling concept. He saw little evidence of potions, powders or the usual type of charms, any of the typical things he knew to expect from a woman of her talents. He knew
what
she was probing into, just not
why
.

Sorceresses usually confined their concerns to things living. She was a searcher into things dark and dangerous. Things dead. Unfortunately, that was what he was was doing too. If you wanted to know about fire, you had to study it, he guessed. Of course it was a good way to get burned. He knew he didn’t like the analogy the moment it popped into his head.

He looked up from the bone pile as he placed the last of them. “If you don’t want grippers in your house, Adie, you should keep your door closed.”

His perfectly apt, scolding frown was wasted, as she didn’t turn from her task of stacking the firewood back in its bin to the side of the hearth. “The door be closed. And bolted,” she said in her dry rasp, in a tone seemingly meant to wither his unseen scowl. “This be the third time.”

Picking up a bone that had been hiding behind a stick of firewood, she straightened and carried it to him. “Before, the grippers never came near my house.” Her voice lowered as if in a threat to unseen ears. “I saw to that.” She handed over the thick, white rib bone, peering down at him as he squatted on the floor next to the bone pile. “Now, since winter, they come near. The bones no longer seem to keep them away. The reason be a mystery to me.”

Adie had lived in this pass a long time. No one knew as well as she its dangers, its quirks, its vagaries. None knew better than she what it took to be safe here, to live on the cusp between the world of the living and the world of the dead, at the edge of the underworld. Of course, the boundary was gone now. It should be safe here now.

He wondered what else was going on she wasn’t telling him; Sorceresses never told all they knew. What was she doing still living here with strange, and dangerous, things happening? Stubborn women, sorceresses, the lot of them.

Adie limped slightly as she walked across the room lit only by the fire. “Light the lamp?”

Following behind, Zedd swept a hand in the direction of the table. The lamp lit itself, adding a soft glow to that of the fire coming from the large hearth made of smooth, river stones, and helped illuminate the dark walls of the room. Every wall held white bones. Shelves lined one wall, and were stuffed to overflowing with the skulls of dangerous beasts. Many of the bones were made into ceremonial objects, some were made into necklaces, decorated with feathers and beads, and some were inscribed with ancient symbols. Some had spells drawn on the wall around them. It was the oddest collection he had even seen.

Zedd pointed a bony finger down at her foot. “Why are you limping?”

Adie gave him a sidelong glance as she stopped and lifted a spoon from a hook set into the mortar at the side of the fireplace. “The new foot you grew me be too short.”

Zedd stood with one hand on a knobby hip, and the sticklike fingers of the other holding his smooth chin as he looked down at her foot. He hadn’t noticed it wasn’t long enough when he had grown it back; he had needed to leave soon after it was done. “Maybe I could grow the ankle a little longer,” he wondered aloud. He took his hand from his chin and flourished it in the air. “Make them even.”

Adie glared over her shoulder as she stirred the stew. “No thank you.”

Zedd arched an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you appreciate having them both even?”

“I appreciate you growing my foot back for me. Life be easier with two of them. I did not realized how much I hated that crutch. But the foot be fine the way it is.” She lifted the long handled spoon to her lips, blowing on the hot stew.

“It would be easier if they were even.”

“I said no.” She tasted the stew.

“Bags, woman, why not?”

Adie tapped the spoon clean on the edge of the iron kettle and hung it back on its hook, then lifted a dented tin from the side of the mantle, unscrewing the lid. Her voice was quiet, her rasp softer. “I do not wish to revisit that pain. Had I known what it would be like, I would have chosen to live the rest of my life without the foot.” Reaching her hand into the tin, she took a three-finger–and-thumb pinch of five-spice and flung it into the stew.

Zedd tugged at his ear. Perhaps she was right. Growing the foot back for her had nearly killed her. He hadn’t expected what had happened, her reaction to using that much magic on her. Still, he had been successful, and managed to draw away the pain of the memories, though he still didn’t know what they had been about. But he should have taken into account she could have had memories that held that much pain.