Stone of Tears

Chapter 62

Richard was in a world of his own as he headed for the stone bridge. He had been cloistered in his room for days, thinking. When the Sisters came to give him his lessons, he put in only a halfhearted effort. He now feared he just might touch his Han.

Warren was busy day and night in the vaults, checking what Richard had told him and looking for more information. There had to be at least some truth to what the Prelate had told him—why else would the Keeper not yet have used the gateway, if he could.

He needed to go for a walk. He felt as if his head were about to burst. He just wanted to be away from the palace for a while.

Pasha suddenly appeared at his side. “I’ve been looking for you.”

He stared ahead as he walked. “Why?”

“I just wanted to be with you.”

“Well, I’m going for a walk in the country.”

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind a walk. May I come along?”

Richard looked over. She was in her wispy maroon dress, the one with the V-shaped neckline. The day was chilly. At least she had on a useful-looking violet cloak. She was wearing big gold loop earrings. Her belt matched her necklace, with the same kind of gold medallions. She looked alluring in the outfit, but they weren’t exactly hiking-in-the-country clothes.

“Are you wearing those useless slippers?”

She held a foot out to show him her tooled leather boots. “I had them made special, just so I could go for walks with you.”

Made special, he grumbled to himself. Richard remembered how hurt she had been that time he had told her that the blue dress didn’t become her. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings by sending her away. She was only trying to please him. Maybe, he thought, the company of a smiling face would do him good.

“Well, all right then. I guess you can come along, as long as you don’t think I’m going to entertain you in conversation.”

She grinned and took his arm. “I’d be happy just to walk with you.”

At least having Pasha on his arm kept most of the women away from him as they passed through the city. The ones who did boldly approach earned a glare from Pasha. The ones who braved the glare earned something else: a touch of her Han. They yelped from the invisible pinch and made themselves scarce.

Richard understood, now, why the palace was breeding wizards. They were trying to get one with Additive and Subtractive Magic.

And now they had one.

They walked silently up into hills bathed in the golden light of the late-afternoon sun. Richard felt better out in the open, rocky hills overlooking the city. Though it was an illusion, he felt free. He suddenly wished Pasha weren’t along. He hadn’t come out to see Gratch in days. Gratch was probably frantic.

He was at a loss as to what he was going to do next. He didn’t know if everything the Prelate had said was true, and he didn’t know which he feared more—that it was a lie, or the truth.

Pasha’s hand on his arm tightened in a way that brought him out of his brooding thoughts and made him draw to a halt. She glanced about nervously. He could tell by the way she was breathing through her mouth that she was frightened.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered.

Her gaze searched the surrounding rocks. “Richard, there is something out here. Please, let’s go back.”

Richard drew the sword. Its unique ring filled the still afternoon air. He felt nothing, no sense of danger, but Pasha’s Han obviously felt something that frightened her.

Pasha let out a little shriek. Richard spun. Gratch’s head poked up above a rock. Pasha backed away.

“It’s all right, he won’t hurt you.”

Gratch gave a tentative grin, showing his fangs, as he stood to his full, towering height.

“Kill it!” she screamed. “It’s a beast! Kill it!”

“Pasha, calm down. He won’t hurt you.”

She backed farther away. Gratch stood looking from Richard to Pasha, not knowing what to do. Richard realized she might use her power to hurt the gar, so he put himself between the two.

“Richard! Move! It must be killed! It’s a beast!”

“It won’t hurt you. I know him. Pasha . . .”

She turned and ran, her violet cloak flying behind. Richard groaned as he watched her leap from the top of one rock to another, making her way down the hill. He scowled back at Gratch.

“What’s wrong with you! Did you have to scare her! What are you doing showing your face to people!”

Gratch’s ears wilted. His shoulders slumped, and he began to whine. When his wings started quivering, Richard went to him.

“Well, it’s too late now to be sorry. Come on and give me a hug.” Gratch cast his eyes to the ground. “It’ll be all right.”

He put his arms around the big, furry creature. Gratch finally responded. He threw his arms and wings around Richard, gurgling his happiness. In a moment, he pulled Richard off the rock and wrestled him to the ground. Richard tickled his ribs and wrestled until Gratch was giggling in glee.

After they had settled down, Gratch put a claw tip in the pocket where Richard kept the lock of Kahlan’s hair. He looked at Richard from under hooded eyebrows as big as axe handles. Richard finally figured out what Gratch meant.

“No. No, that’s not the same woman. It’s a different person.”

Gratch frowned. He didn’t understand. Richard didn’t feel like trying to explain that the lock of hair he was always looking at was not from Pasha. At Gratch’s urging, Richard instead wrestled with his woolly friend.

It was twilight when Richard made it back to the palace. He was going to have to find Pasha and explain to her that Gratch was his friend, and not a dangerous beast. Before he had gone far, Sister Verna found him, instead.

“Did you feed that baby gar back in the wilds, the one I told you to kill? Did you let that beast follow us!”

Richard stared at her. “It was helpless, Sister. I couldn’t kill something that was no harm to me. We’ve become friends.”

Muttering, she wiped a hand across her face. “As absurd as it sounds, I suppose I can understand; you needed companionship, and you certainly didn’t want it from me.”

“Sister Verna . . .”

“But why would you let Pasha see it!”

“I didn’t. He just popped his head up. I didn’t know he was there. Pasha saw him before I knew.”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “The people around here fear beasts; they kill them. Pasha went screaming to the Sisters that there was a beast in the hills.”

“I’ll explain it to them. I’ll make them understand . . .”

“Richard! Listen to me!” He backed away a step and stood silently while he waited for her to go on. “The palace believes that ‘pets’ are a hindrance to learning to use your Han. They believe it diverts feelings away from them, to the creature. I think they are being foolish, but that is beside the point.”

“What is the point? You mean they will try to keep me from seeing him anymore?”

She put an impatient hand on his arm. “No, Richard. They think it’s a vile beast that could turn on you. They think you are in danger. The Sisters are forming a search party as we speak. They intend to hunt it down and kill it, for your own good.”

Richard stared at her concerned expression for only a second, and then he was running. He charged over the bridge and back into the city. People gaped as he flew past. He leapt over carts that wouldn’t move out of the way fast enough. He knocked over a stand selling amulets. People hollered at him, but he ran on.

His heart thumped in his ears as he raced up the hills. Several times he stumbled over ditches or rocks, but he rolled to his feet, gasping for air, and rushed on. In the darkness, he leapt from rock to rock as he crossed ravines.

At the crest of a round-topped hill near where he had been with Gratch earlier, he yelled, between panting. His fists at his sides, he tipped his head back and screamed Gratch’s name. His voice echoed off the surrounding hills. Only silence answered when the echoes died out.

Exhausted, Richard fell to his knees. They would be coming soon. The Sisters would use their Han to find the gar. Gratch wouldn’t know what they intended. Even if he kept his distance, their magic could reach out and kill him. They could knock him from the air, or set him afire.

“Graaaatch! Graaaatch!”

A dark shape blackened a patch of stars. The gar thumped to the ground and folded his wings. He cocked his head and gave a purling gurgle.

Richard grabbed Gratch’s fur in his fists.

“Gratch! Listen to me. You have to go away. You can’t stay here any longer. They’re coming to kill you. You must leave.”

Gratch let out a questioning whine that rose in pitch. His ears perked forward. He tried to put his arms around Richard.

Richard pushed him away. “Go! You understand me, I know you do! Go! I want you to go away! They will try to kill you! Go away and never come back!”

Gratch’s ears wilted as he cocked his head to the other side. Richard pounded a fist to the gar’s chest. He pointed north.

“Go away!” He threw his arms out and pointed again. “I want you to go away and never come back!”

Gratch tried to put his arms around Richard again. Richard pushed them away again. Gratch’s ears lay down against his head.

“Grrratch luuug Raaaach aaarg.”

Richard wanted more than anything to hold his friend and tell him that he loved him, too. But he couldn’t. He had to make him go in order to save his life.

“Well I don’t love you! Go away and never come back!”

Gratch looked to the hill Pasha had run down. He looked back at Richard. His green eyes were filling with tears. He reached out for Richard.

Richard shoved him away. Gratch stood with his arms out. Richard remembered the first time he had held the furry beast. He had been so little then. He was so big now. But as he had grown, his friendship, and his love, had grown, too.

He was Richard’s only friend, and only Richard could save him. If Richard really loved him, he had to do this.

“Go away! I don’t want you around anymore! I don’t want you to ever come back! You’re just a big dumb bag of fur! Go away! If you really love me, then you’ll do as I ask, and go away!”

Richard wanted to keep yelling, but the lump in his throat caught the words. He backed away. Gratch seemed to wither in the cool night air. His arms came out again with a pitiful, forlorn wail. He called with a plaintive, keening cry.

Richard took another step back. Gratch took a step toward him. Richard picked up a rock and heaved it at the gar. It bounced off his huge chest.

“Go away!” Richard cried. He threw another rock. “I don’t want you around anymore! Go away! I don’t ever want to see you again!”

Tears ran from the glowing green eyes, over the wrinkles of his cheeks. “Grrratch luuug Raaaach aaarg.”

“If you really love me then you will do this! Go!”

The gar looked again to the hill Pasha had run down, turned, and spread his wings. With a last look over his shoulder, he bounded into the air and flew off into the night.

When he could no longer see the dark shape against the stars, or hear the sweep of wings, Richard crumpled to the ground. His only friend was gone.

“I love you, too, Gratch.”

He cried in racking sobs. “Dear spirits, why have you done this to me? He was all I had. I hate you. Every last one of you.”

He was halfway back when it hit him. He froze in his tracks, his mouth hanging open. In the stillness of the night, his shaking fingers reached to his pocket.

The lights of the city flickered in the near distance. Rooftops shimmered in the moonlight. Distant sounds of the city drifted out to him at the edge of the hills.

He pulled out the lock of Kahlan’s hair.

If you really love me, she had said, you will do this. That was what he had told Gratch. In a flash of understanding, it all came to him. The jolt of comprehension took his breath.

Kahlan had not been sending him away, she had been saving his life. She had done for him what he had just done for Gratch.

The pain of having doubted her took him to his knees. It must have broken her heart. How could he have doubted her?

The collar. He had been so afraid of the collar he had been blinded to it. She loved him. She didn’t want to be set free, she wanted only to save his life.

She loved him.

He threw his arms open and turned his face up to the sky.

“She loves me!”

He knelt, staring at the lock of hair she had given him to remind him of her love. In his whole life, he had never felt a sense of relief this great. The world came back to life for him.

Richard’s mind swirled in a confusion of conflicting emotions. He felt heartsick that he had sent Gratch away, that Gratch thought Richard didn’t want him around anymore, but at the same time, he felt overwhelming joy that Kahlan loved him.

In the end, joy won out. He decided that someday Gratch might come to understand, as he had, that it had been necessary. Someday, he would have the collar off, and he would find Gratch, and make it up to him. And even if he didn’t, the gar was better off living as a gar should, hunting and searching out its own kind. It would come to have its own happiness, as had Richard.

Although he wanted more than anything to throw his arms around Kahlan, hug her tight, and tell her how much he loved her, he couldn’t. He was still a prisoner of the Sisters, but he would study, and learn, and get the collar off. He would get the collar off, and return to Kahlan. He knew without a doubt that she would be waiting for him. She had said she would always love him.

When he met the search party of Sisters at the edge of Tanimura, he told them that they needn’t bother, that they would find the beast gone. They didn’t believe him, and went on into the hills. Richard didn’t care. Gratch was gone. His friend was safe.

Richard bought a gold necklace from a street hawker. He didn’t know if it was real gold, but he didn’t care, it looked pretty. He trotted the rest of the way to the palace.

Pasha was pacing up and down in the hall outside his room.

“Richard! Richard, I was so worried. I know that right now you’re furious with me, but in time you will see that . . .”

He grinned. “I’m not angry, Pasha. In fact, I brought you a present, to thank you.”

She smiled in coy surprise as he offered her the necklace. “For me? Why?”

“Because of you, I figured out that she loves me, and always has. I was just being a blind fool. You helped me see that.”

She regarded him with a frosty look. “But you are here, now, Richard. You will forget her in time. You’ll see that I’m the one for you.”

He smiled happily at her. “Pasha, I’m sorry. It’s nothing against you. You’re a beautiful young woman. In time, you’ll find the one for you. You can have your pick of nearly any man. Everyone likes you. But I’m not the one for you. Maybe if I lived to be a hundred, but short of that . . .”

Her sly smile returned. “Then I will wait.”

He kissed the top of her head before going through the door. He didn’t think he would be able to sleep while he was this excited, but all the walking and running had left him exhausted. His last thoughts before he drifted off were of Kahlan. He pictured her in his mind, as if she was there with him: her special smile, her deep green eyes, and her radiant long hair. He drifted into the best sleep he had had in months.

In the days following, Richard felt as if his feet hardly touched the ground. Everyone was puzzled by his good mood. They frowned at him at first, but were eventually caught up in his cheer. Some of the Sisters giggled when he told them they looked as beautiful as a sunny day.

He urged the Sisters who came to practice with him to try harder, to help him reach his Han. He had them stay longer than usual. Sisters Tovi and Cecilia bubbled with enthusiasm, Merissa and Nicci bestowed small smiles of pleasure, Armina was cautiously pleased, and Liliana delighted. He wanted his collar off, and until he could do what they wanted, he knew it would stay on.

Having not seen Warren in a while, he finally went down to the vaults to see how his search was coming. Sister Becky was off retching, and the other Sister giggled when he winked at her.

Warren was pleasantly surprised to see him and exhilarated about some of the things he had found. He could hardly wait to tell Richard. When the door to one of the back rooms had grated closed, he started opening volumes on the table.

“What you told me has been a great help. Look here.” Warren pointed at words Richard couldn’t understand. “Just like you told me. This says that the Stone of Tears being in this world, in itself, does not free the Keeper.”

“So what significance does it have?”

“Well, it’s as if there are a number of locks on his prison door, and this turns the key in one, but it does not free him. There are a number of ways for it to help him, a number of objects of magic to help. But the Stone of Tears itself must be used by one from this world, one with the gift for both Additive and Subtractive Magic, to free the Keeper. Those with only the gift for Additive can cause harm, tear the veil more, but not free him with it.

“I think,” Warren said with a twinkle, “that we’re safe with that black stone in this world as long as we’re careful.”

“It’s not black. I never told you it was black. I just described the shape and size.”

Warren touched a finger to his lower lip. “Not black? Then what color is it?”

“Amber.”

Warren slapped his hands to his chest with a groan of relief. “Thank the Creator.” He let out an uncharacteristic whoop. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all year! Amber means it was touched by a wizard’s tears. That repulses the Keeper. It’s like rotten, festering meat would be to us. His agents won’t touch it!”

Richard’s grin widened. It had to be Zedd who had done it. That was why he felt Zedd’s pull from the stone. This, on top of his discovery about Kahlan, was just too much. He couldn’t keep the happiness to himself. “Warren, I have other good news. I’m in love. I’m going to be wed.”

Warren gave another whoop, but then his smile wilted. “It’s not Pasha, is it? If it is, that’s all right, I will understand. You two will make a handsome . . .”

Richard lightly touched Warren’s shoulder. “No, it’s not Pasha. I’ll tell you about her some other time. She’s the Mother Confessor. I didn’t mean to interrupt you. What about the other things?”

“Well.” He pulled another book across the table. “There are precious few references to the round bone you spoke of, and the skrin. One of them is in a forked prophecy having to do with the winter solstice coming up in a couple of weeks. It’s a complicated juncture of forks and crossovers. We’ve only recently learned that the prophecy about that woman and her people is the descendent of a true fork . . .”

Whenever Warren went off on his talk of forks and junctures, Richard always started getting lost. About the only thing he understood was winter solstice.

“What does the winter solstice have to do with anything?”

Warren looked up. “Winter solstice. The shortest day of the year. Shortest day, longest night. See what I mean?”

“No. What does that have to do with the skrin?”

“The longest night of the year. Longest night, most darkness. You see, the Keeper has certain times when he can exert greater or lesser influence in this world. His is the world of darkness, and when we are in the period of the longest darkness, the veil is at its weakest. That’s when he is able to do the most harm.”

“Then we’re in danger in a few weeks, at winter solstice.”

Warren’s eyebrows lifted in delight. “Yes. But you’ve given me the information to solve an upcoming prophecy, along with what we now know to be the true fork involved along with it. You see, with this winter solstice, there is a prophecy about the danger to the world of the living.

“The Keeper has to have a number of elements in place for it to be a true fork, such as an open gateway, but he needs an agent in this world—” Warren leaned forward in delight.

“—and he in turn needs the skrin. If he has the skrin bone you told me of, he can invoke the guardian, and destroy it. If the guardian is destroyed, the Keeper can come through the gateway.”

“Warren, that sounds pretty frightening to me.”

Warren lifted his hand with a dismissive wave. “No, no. Many prophecies sound ominous, like this one. But the elements are rarely all in place, so they turn out to be false forks, as most do. The books are clogged with false forks, because—”

“Warren, get to the point.”

“Oh, yes. Well, you see, you told me that your friend has the bone that can invoke the skrin. And the Keeper would need an agent, but he doesn’t have one. Without the skrin bone, and with the upcoming fork which we know must be passed correctly, and we think it will, this is just another false fork, so we’re safe!”

Richard felt a distant tingling of apprehension, but Warren’s bubbly confidence overwhelmed it. He was caught up in Warren’s enthusiasm. He gave the young man a clap on the back.

“Good work, Warren. Now I can concentrate on learning to use my Han.”

Warren beamed. “Thank you, Richard. I’m so glad you’ve been able to help me. I’ve made more progress than I ever thought I would before I met you.”

Still grinning, Richard shook his head in wonder. “Warren, I’ve never met anyone that was so smart, yet so young.”

Warren laughed as if that was the funniest thing he had ever heard.

“What’s so funny?”

“Your joke,” Warren said, wiping tears from his eyes.

“What joke?”

Warren’s laughter slowed to a frowning chuckle. “About me being young. It was funny.”

Richard held his polite smile. “Warren, why is that funny?”

Warren’s chuckle died down to a grin. “Because I’m one hundred and fifty-seven years old.”

Richard’s flesh prickled. “Now you’re making a joke. That’s a joke. It is a joke, Warren, isn’t it?”

Warren’s good humor evaporated. He blinked. “Richard . . . you do know, don’t you. They must have told you. I was sure they would have told you by now . . .”

Richard’s arm swept the books aside. He scooted his chair closer. “Told me what? Warren, don’t you say something like that and then go silent on me. You’re my friend, you tell me.”

Warren cleared his throat and then wet his lips with his tongue. He leaned in a little. “Richard, I’m sorry. I thought you knew, or I would have told you myself a long time ago. I would have.”

“Told me what!”

“The magic. The magic of the Palace of the Prophets. It has Additive and Subtractive elements to it that are tied to the other worlds. That makes time move differently here.”

“Warren,” Richard said hoarsely, “do you mean it affects all of us? All those wearing the collar?”

“No . . . everyone at the palace. The Sisters, too. This place is spelled. As long as the Sisters live at the palace, they age the same as we do. The spell makes us age more slowly; makes time seem different to us.”

“What do you mean, ‘different’?”

The spell slows our aging process. “For every year we age, those outside age between ten and fifteen years.”

Richard’s head was spinning. “Warren, that can’t be true. It can’t.” He tried desperately to think of proof. “Pasha. Pasha could only be . . .”

“Richard, I’ve known Pasha for over a hundred years.”

Richard slid the chair back and stood. He raked his fingers through his hair. “That doesn’t make any sense. It has to be some kind of . . . Why would it work like that?”

Warren took Richard’s arm and sat him down. He pulled his own chair close. He spoke in a soft, concerned voice, as one would when breaking calamitous news to a someone.

“It takes a long time to train a wizard. Outside, in the rest of the world, over twenty years had gone by before I was even able to touch my Han. But because I live here, I had aged less than two years. Twenty years had passed here, too, but I aged only two. If the palace did not slow our aging, we would all die of old age before we could even light a lamp with our Han.

“I have never heard of it taking less than two hundred years to train a wizard. Commonly, it takes near to three hundred, and sometimes even as much as four hundred.

“The wizards who created this place knew that, and so they tied the magic here to the worlds beyond, where time is meaningless. I don’t know how it works, just that it does.”

Richard’s hands shook. “But . . . I have to get this collar off. I have to get to Kahlan. I can’t wait that long. Warren, help me. I can’t wait that long.”

Warren glanced to the floor. “I’m sorry, Richard. I don’t know how to get our collars off, and I don’t know how to get by the barrier that keeps us here. I know how you feel, though. It drove me into the vaults for the last fifty years. Some of the others don’t seem to care, and say that it just gives them more time with women.”

Richard slowly rose. “I can’t believe it.”

Warren turned his face up. “Richard, please forgive me for telling you. I’m sorry I was the one to hurt you. You’ve always been . . .”

Richard put a hand to Warren’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t do it. You simply told me the truth.” His voice felt as if it were coming from the bottom of a well. “Thank you for the truth, my friend.”

All he could think, as his feet shuffled toward the door, was that his dreams were all dying. If he couldn’t get the collar off, everything would be lost.

Sisters Ulicia and Finella both stood in warning as he came through the doors. They backed away, the same as the guards had, when they saw the look on his face. A sparkling shield went up before the door. He went through it without slowing. The door beyond burst open for him, without him touching it, part of the frame splintering. It somehow never occurred to him to use the knob.

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.