The First Confessor (17 page)

“That important man, my husband, the First Wizard, in his last words to me told me to seek truth. He believed that I had a purpose in life. That is why I’m here, and why I must insist, not because of who I am, but because I have been charged with finding the truth.”

“What truth?”

“For starters, the truth behind my husband’s death. Baraccus was not the kind of man who would kill himself out of despondency. He would have had a crucial reason for what he did. Something happened when he went to the Temple of the Winds. I know that there was a purpose behind him leaping to his death, a purpose meant to help us all. It was not a suicide; it was a compassionate sacrifice of his life to give ours a chance to go on in safety. I need to find out what was behind that act so that his sacrifice will not be in vain.”

Isidore smiled to herself. It was a curious smile that softened her angular face.

“I am sorry.” The woman lifted her hand toward the entryway where Magda had come in, inviting her to leave. “As I said, the spiritist has her job to do and cannot see others. That job is also to help us all. Admirable as your effort may be, it is not our problem.”

Magda took a deep breath and let it out as she reminded herself to be patient. “It very well might become your problem sooner than you think, and then it will be too late.”

Isidore’s hand lowered and then nested back in her lap. For the first time, the woman’s brow wrinkled with a hint of worry.

“What do you mean?”

“All is not right in the Wizard’s Keep. We are at war and the enemy is already here, among us.”

The woman showed no emotion, but she lost a bit of color. “The enemy is inside the walls of the Keep?”

“Yes.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Have you heard of the dream walkers?”

Isidore sat silently for a moment. It was clear by her expression that she had.

“I have heard of them. But they are distant, down in the Old World.”

“The council thinks so as well. But the council is wrong. The dream walkers are slipping into the minds of people right here, in the Keep. I fear that they may have help from spies or traitors inside the Keep. A number of strange murders point to the enemy.”

“I am all too aware of murders taking place down here in the catacombs. For that reason, surely you must realize that it could be dangerous for you to be down here. But dream walkers? Here, in the Keep? Are you really so sure?”

“Yes. They attacked me.”

Isidore seemed surprised and fell silent. She finally gathered her thoughts.

“If that were true, you would be dead, yet you seem unharmed.”

“I was very nearly killed. I thought for certain that I was about to die. I was in fact at the veil, very near to passing forever into the spirit world, but I was able to obtain a defense against the dream walker in time to save my life. That same defense can also protect your mind being taken by a dream walker.”

The smile returned. “Ah. So, you wish to bargain. You wish to offer me this protection if I can get the spiritist to agree to see you.”

It was not a question. It was an accusation.

“Not at all,” Magda said. “I would offer you the protection without any precondition, before we go on with anything of substance, and before you agree to anything. In fact, I intend to insist, even if you refuse to help me.”

The frown returned. “You think that if you are kind by offering this help freely, then we will relent and be inclined to indulge you?”

“No,” Magda said. “Make no mistake. It is not a kindness at all, but an act of self-interest on my part. Dream walkers can invade an unprotected mind and that person can be completely unaware of it. The spiritist is at great risk of being taken because she is valuable. I believe that there are traitors in the Keep. If I’m right, then they would likely direct the dream walkers to the spiritist. Once so identified, the dream walkers would obviously want to control her so as to spy on important matters, or they might simply choose to eliminate her so that she could no longer help our cause.

“For all I know, a dream walker could already be in your mind, watching, listening, hoping to hear what I would ask, and especially what answer I would be given. I can’t take that chance. Too much is at stake.”

The frown deepened. “Do you mean to say that you offer this protection so that you will know that you are safe in my presence?”

“That’s right. I know all too well what the dream walkers are capable of. I nearly died because of them. I don’t want to risk that I could be given answers from a spiritist who is unknowingly being controlled by a dream walker intent on hiding the truth. They could send me off in the wrong direction so that I would fail and we all die.

“I suspect that there are traitors in the Keep. Among other things, I think they are guiding the dream walkers. I have to believe that such traitors could be plotting something even worse. Perhaps this is what Baraccus intended me to find. I know that assassins of some sort are among us. We are running out of time. I need to trust that the spiritist helping me is guided by the truth, and not by a dream walker.”

Isidore turned her head to the side, as if looking off into her own personal darkness.

“More than that,” Magda said, “I fear that if a dream walker is secretly lurking in your mind, he might tear you apart from the inside to prevent me from having the chance to get the answers I need. So you see, while I would not want to see you harmed, I am more concerned for myself and everyone else than I am just for you.”

Isidore had lost even more of her color. She looked ashen. Magda could see goose bumps prickle up on her bare arms. Her head turned up toward Magda.

“I value my mind,” Isidore said. She reached a hand out. “Please, sit with me, Magda Searus. I would very much like to be protected—for the reasons you give, and for my own reasons.”

Isidore had just confirmed Magda’s suspicion.

Once Isidore had completed the three devotions, she pushed herself up from the floor and folded her legs under her as she sat back down.

“Thank you, Magda Searus, for teaching me how to be bonded to the Lord Rahl in order to be protected from the dream walkers.”

Magda noted what Isidore did not say. She bowed her head, but then remembered that the woman couldn’t see. “You are very welcome. And Magda is name enough for a friend.”

Isidore smiled. “You have a shadow, Magda.”

Magda leaned in. “Excuse me?”

Isidore’s smile widened as the pointed back toward the entrance. “Your shadow walks on nearly silent feet.”

Magda turned and saw a pair of big green eyes looking at her. The skinny black cat arched its back and rubbed bashfully against the side of the hallway opening. It looked like the cat Magda had seen before, the one she had fed a scrap of food. It must have followed her, hoping for more. It was a relief to realize that the sound she had heard before hadn’t been something more sinister.

Magda couldn’t help smiling. “It’s a cat,” she told Isidore.

“What color?”

“She’s black.”

Isidore nodded knowingly. “That’s why she is not afraid to come in here.”

Magda frowned. “What do you mean?”

“People fear black cats, thinking that they are evil. They are not evil. It’s just that they have some small ability to see between worlds. Black cats catch glimpses of the spirit world. That’s why people fear them, and why she wasn’t afraid to follow you into this place. This place is not entirely alien to her, as it is to those who only see the world of life.”

The catacombs filled with the dead certainly did seem to be nearer the spirit world than anywhere else Magda had ever visited. The whole subterranean region of the Keep seemed to be very far removed from the life up above.

When the cat again voiced a small cry, Magda asked, “Are you hungry, little one?”

The cat meowed, almost as if she were answering, and rubbed the side of her face against the doorway, fearing to come close, but at the same time aching to approach.

Magda pulled the small bundle from her waist pouch and unwrapped the chicken strips. She knew that the temptation of a meal would overcome the cat’s caution. She asked Isidore if she was hungry. When Isidore nodded, Magda held the woman’s hand out and placed a piece of chicken in it. The cat sidled up to Magda and rubbed against her leg. Magda pulled off a small strip and held it out for the cat.

“Here you go, little one, have something to eat.”

As Magda ate the rest of the strip, the cat hunched forward and devoured the welcome tidbit.

“She seems to shadow you,” Isidore said. “You should name her Shadow.”

“I don’t need a cat,” Magda said as she gave the hungry cat another small piece of chicken.

“For those who understand their talents, a black cat is good to have around.”

“Talents?” Magda couldn’t imagine what good the cat could do her. “You mean being able to see into the spirit world?”

“I mean seeing things from that world that are here in this world.”

Magda realized that this was no longer idle chitchat. Isidore meant for her to be mindful of her words.

“You mean you think they can see ghosts?”

“Some think that cats, black cats in particular, can see the presence of spirits, or perhaps the essence of spirits. We don’t always know when such an essence has drifted into this realm and is near, but such a cat would be aware of it. For this reason, black cats have long been linked to death. Ignorant people wrongly fear them for this association. But just because they can see into the spirit realm, that does not mean that black cats are agents of death, or that they are evil.

“Sometimes, we need to heed subtle signs, for such signs may be more than they seem. Especially down here. I never let any sign down here go unnoticed, or unheeded.”

“But what use could having such a creature be?”

“While it is rare for spirits to drift through our world, it could possibly be useful to know when they are near.”

Magda didn’t know what good that could be to her, but she didn’t want to dismiss Isidore’s words out of hand. “So you think that this cat coming to me is a sign that I should keep her around to know when spirits are near?”

“She is shadowing you. Perhaps you should heed such a sign.” Isidore shrugged. “It could even be that a spirit guided the cat your way to be a comfort to you in your loneliness.”

“So you really think that she may be a sign from the spirit world?”

Isidore smiled. “I couldn’t say. She might have simply been hungry and smelled the food you had with you.” Isidore’s enigmatic smile ghosted away. “But I wouldn’t dismiss such a creature coming into the circle of your life energy.”

Magda had come to a spiritist seeking answers. It occurred to her that it might not be a bad idea to listen to her advice.

“Shadow it is then.” She stroked a hand along the sleek fur of the cat’s back. “Do you like that, name? Shadow?”

The cat meowed as if to answer. Before long, Shadow was in Magda’s lap, hoping for more chicken. Magda pulled off pieces, giving her a much-needed meal. When the cat had had her fill, she curled up and started cleaning herself.

“How long have you been a spiritist?” Magda asked as she stroked the warm little cat. Shadow purred in appreciation.

Isidore feigned shock. “Me? A spiritist? No, I am only—”

“You are the spiritist, Isidore.”

Isidore had wanted to be protected herself, but had not asked for protection for the spiritist. In her alarm at hearing about the threat, and then with the distraction of the cat showing up, she had forgotten to keep up the pretense. That told Magda what she had suspected all along, that there was no one else. Isidore was the spiritist.

Isidore stiffened a little, falling back into her role. “I am flattered that you would think I am such a woman, Magda, but I am merely her humble servant.”

“You play the role of aide to the spiritist so that you will not have to entertain appeals directly. That insulates you and gives you an easy way to turn people away, saving time and trouble. You work with the gifted, so you need to be able to keep others at arm’s length without having to turn down the appeals directly. More than that, you are empathetic and don’t like to disappoint people, but you have more important work and this small deception enables you to remain focused on that work without the streams of supplicants who would be eager to contact deceased loved ones if word got out that you were a spiritist and you would be willing to help them.”

Isidore sat quietly, hands nested in her lap, not offering any comment.

“I will not betray your secret, Isidore. But there is no one else. You are the spiritist. Your eyes are covered to help hide this world from your vision so that you may look into another world. That is what you do. You look into the spirit world.

“I have helped you to be safe from the dream walkers as you go about your important work. Please, Isidore, my work is important as well. Let’s not play games.”

As Isidore finally released a deep sigh, her posture sagged a bit. She was apparently relieved to no longer have to lie.

“You have it mostly right.”

“What do you mean?”

“It is more than a blindfold keeping me from seeing this world.”

Magda reached out and laid a hand over Isidore’s. “Show me.”

As the cat curled up for a warm nap in Magda’s lap, Isidore nodded, then reached up behind her head to the leather thongs holding on the blindfold. When at last it was untied, she slipped it away and sat a bit stiffer, nesting her hands again, letting Magda look at her face.

Isidore’s eyelids were closed over sunken sockets where her eyes should have been. They were not sewn shut. There were no eyelashes. It looked as if she had never had eyes, or as if they had been injured and healed over.

Magda knew better. She knew that Isidore had not been born this way, nor had she been injured.

“How did you lose your eyes?” Magda asked, fearing that she already knew the answer, fearing that this was wizard’s work.

“Is that the question you have come to ask the spiritist?”