Stone of Tears

Chapter 66

As Richard approached, he noticed a commotion on the stone bridge. A crowd lined one edge, everyone looking down to the river. At the center, he eased his way through toward the low, walled railing. As he did, he saw Pasha at the crown, too, leaning out over the stone, looking down.

“What’s going on?” he asked as he came up behind her.

Pasha spun at the sound of his voice. She flinched when she saw him. “Richard! I thought . . .” She looked back over the railing, down to the river, and then back to him.

“You thought what?”

She threw her arms around his middle. “Oh, Richard! I thought you were dead! Thank the Creator!”

Richard pried her arms off and then leaned over, looking down to the dark river below. Several small boats, each with a lantern, were towing a body tangled in their hand-casting nets. In the flickering yellow light, he could see the red coat.

Richard ran over the bridge and down the banks, reaching the shore as the men were landing the boats. Grabbing the nets from a man, he hauled them and their load up onto the grassy bank.

There was a small, round hole in the lower back of the red coat. He rolled the body over and looked into Perry’s dead eyes. Richard groaned.

Wizard’s Second Rule. Perry had died because Richard had violated it. He had tried to do something good, with the best of intentions, and it had brought harm. It was Richard the dacra had been meant for. It was he they thought they were killing.

Pasha was standing on the bank behind him. “Richard, I was so afraid. I thought it was you.” She started crying. “What was he doing in your red coat?”

“I loaned it to him.” He gave her a quick hug. “I have to go, Pasha.”

“You don’t mean the palace. You didn’t really mean what you said about leaving. I know you didn’t. You can’t leave, Richard.”

“I meant every word. Good night, Pasha.”

He left the men to their grisly task and headed for his room. Someone had meant to kill him, and it hadn’t been Liliana. Someone else was trying to kill him.

As he was loading his things into his pack, he heard a knock at his door. He froze, a shirt half-folded in his hands. Then he heard Sister Verna’s voice beyond the door, asking if she could come in.

Richard yanked the door open, preparing to launch into a tirade, but the look on her face caught the words in his throat. She stood woodenly, staring off at nothing.

“Sister Verna, what’s wrong?” He took her arm and led her into his room. “Here, sit down.”

She sank to the edge of the chair. Richard knelt in front of her and took her hands.

“Sister Verna, what’s wrong?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to return.” Her puffy, red eyes finally sought his. “Richard,” she said in a subdued voice, “I could really use a friend right now. You are the only one who came to mind.”

Richard hesitated, she knew his condition, though he now knew she couldn’t get the collar off.

“Richard, when Sisters Grace and Elizabeth died, they passed their gift to me. I have more power than any Sister at the palace, any normal Sister. I know you won’t believe this, but I doubt even that will be enough to remove your collar. But I wish to try.”

Richard knew that she couldn’t remove it. At least he was told that she couldn’t. Maybe Nathan was wrong.

“All right. Try then.”

“There is pain involved . . .”

Richard’s brow drew together in a suspicious frown. “Why do I not find that surprising?”

“Not for you, Richard. For me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have discovered that you have Subtractive Magic.”

“What would that have to do with it?”

“You locked the Rada’Han on yourself. It locks on by using the magic of the one it is attached to. I have only Additive Magic. I don’t think that will be sufficient to break the bond.

“I have no power over your Subtractive Magic. It will fight what I try to do, and that will hurt me. But don’t be frightened. It won’t hurt you.”

Richard didn’t know what to do, what to believe. She put her hands to his neck, at the sides of his collar. Before she closed her eyes, he saw a glazed look he recognized. She was touching her Han.

Muscles tense, with his hand on the hilt of his sword, he waited, prepared to react if she tried to harm him. He didn’t want to believe Sister Verna would harm him, but then, he hadn’t thought Liliana would ever hurt him either.

Her brow wrinkled. Richard felt only a pleasant, warm tingle. The room vibrated with a dull hum. The corners of carpets curled up. Windows rattled in their frames. Sister Verna shook with effort.

The standing mirror in the bedroom shattered. Panes of glass in the doors exploded as the doors to the balcony banged open. The curtains billowed outward as if in a wind. Plaster fell from the ceiling, and a tall cabinet toppled over with a crash.

A low moan of pain issued from her throat as the flesh on her face trembled.

Richard seized her wrists and pulled her hands from his collar. She sagged forward.

“Oh, Richard,” she said in a mournful voice, “I’m sorry. I can’t do it.”

Richard took her in his arms and held her tight. “It’s all right. I believe you, Sister. I know you tried. You have found a friend.”

She squeezed him tight. “Richard, you have to get away from this place.”

He sat her back in the chair as she wiped her fingers at the lower lids of her eyes. Richard rocked back on his heels. “Tell me what’s happened.”

“There are Sisters of the Dark in the palace.”

“Sisters of the Dark? What does that mean?”

“The Sisters of the Light work to bring the light of the Creator’s glory to the living. Sisters of the Dark serve the Keeper. It has never been proven that they even exist. The accusation, without proof, is a crime. Richard, I know you aren’t going to believe me. I realize this sounds like I’m just—”

“I killed Sister Liliana tonight. I believe you.”

She blinked at him. “You did what?”

“She told me she was going to take my collar off. She had me meet her in the Hagen Woods. Sister Verna, she tried to take the gift from me, for herself.”

“She can’t do that. A female cannot take on the gift of a male, or the other way around. It isn’t possible.”

“She said she had done it many times before. It seemed possible to me when she was trying. I could feel her pulling the life, the gift, right out of me. She almost succeeded. I came close to death.”

She brushed back her curly hair. “But I don’t see how . . .”

Richard pulled out the statue. “She was using this. The crystal started glowing orange when she was doing it. Do you know what it is?”

Sister Verna shook her head. “I think I’ve seen it before, somewhere, but I can’t remember. It was so long ago. Before I left the palace. What happened then?”

“When that didn’t work, because I used my power to stop her, she called a sword from the shadows. She wanted to wound me. She said she was going to skin me alive, and then steal my gift for herself. She tried to cut off my legs. Somehow, I got her first.

“Sister Verna, she had Subtractive Magic. I saw her use it. Not only that, but someone else is trying to kill me. I loaned my red coat to Perry. They just dragged his body out of the river. He had been stabbed in the back with a dacra.”

She grimaced. “Oh, dear Creator.” She twined her fingers together in her lap. “The palace knows you have Subtractive Magic. They’re using you to flush out the Keeper’s disciples.” She took his hand. “Richard, I’ve been a part of this. I should have long ago questioned things that were wrong, but I didn’t. I instead did as I thought was right.”

“Questioned what?”

“Forgive me, Richard. You should never have had a Rada’Han put around your neck. It wasn’t necessary. I was told there were no wizards in the New World to help boys. I thought you would die without our help. Your friend, Zedd, could have kept the gift from harming you. The Prelate knew there were wizards to help you. She let you be stolen from your friends and loved ones for her own selfish reasons. You didn’t need the Rada’Han to save your life.”

“I know. I talked to Nathan. He told me.”

“You went to the Prophet? What else did he say?”

“That I have more power than any wizard born in three thousand years. But I have no idea how to use it. And that I have Subtractive Magic. He said that the Sisters could not remove the collar.”

“I’m so sorry I brought this upon you, Richard.”

“Sister Verna, you were deceived, as was I. You’re a victim, too. They’ve used both of us.

“There is worse trouble. There is a prophecy that says that on winter solstice, Kahlan is going to die. I must stop that from happening. And Darken Rahl, my father, an agent of the Keeper, is in this world. You saw the mark he burned on me. He is an agent who can tear the veil if he has all the elements in place, though I doubt he does.

“Sister Verna, I have to get away from here. I must get through the barrier.”

“I’ll help you. Somehow, I’ll help you get through the barrier. Your problem will be the Valley of the Lost. I don’t think you can get through the valley again. Now that the collar has helped your Subtractive Magic grow, you will call the spells to you. The magic will find you, this time.”

“I might have a way. I must try.”

Sister Verna thought a moment. “The Keeper would want to stop you, if there is a possibility for this prophecy about his agent to come to pass. The Sisters of the Dark will work to stop you. I am sure Liliana wasn’t the only one.”

“Who placed her as my teacher?”

“The Prelate’s office assigns teachers. But the Prelate probably wouldn’t have done it herself. Such matters are usually handled by her administrators.”

“Her administrators?”

“Sisters Ulicia and Finella.”

“I thought they were her guards.”

“Guards? No. Maybe in a bureaucratic sense. The Prelate has more power than they. She doesn’t need guards. Some of the boys think of them as guards, because they are always turned away from the Prelate’s door by the two Sisters. They do some of their work in the Prelate’s office, and they have their own offices where they handle a variety of administrative tasks.”

“Maybe the Sisters of the Dark came after me, decided they had to act now, because they had been discovered.”

“No. The Prelate told me no one but she knows.”

“Could anyone have overheard?”

“No. She shielded the room.”

Richard leaned in. “Sister Verna, Liliana had Subtractive Magic. The Prelate’s shield would not have worked against that. One of those two administrators assigned Sister Liliana to me.”

She drew a sudden breath. “And the other five. If one or both of those two in the outer office heard what the Prelate knows, then the Prelate . . . Sister Ulicia’s office—that’s where I saw that statue!”

Richard grabbed her wrist and yanked her from the chair.

“Come on! If they tried to kill me, they may try to kill the Prelate before she warns anyone else!”

The two of them raced down the stairs and out of Gillaume Hall. They crossed the lawns in the darkness, ran down halls and through passageways. Kevin wasn’t there, another guard was on duty, but he didn’t stop them, as he, too, knew Richard, and Sisters were not restricted.

Richard knew they were too late when he saw the charred doors to the Prelate’s office broken from their hinges. He slid to a stop on the slick marble floor of the hall. Papers and ledgers were scattered out into the hall.

Sister Verna was still running down the hall as he went into the office with his sword drawn. It looked as if a thunderstorm had been turned loose inside. What was left of Sister Finella lay on the floor behind her desk. The rest of her was splattered across the wall. He heard Sister Verna gasp as he kicked in the door to the Prelate’s office.

When the door swung back Richard dove through and rolled to his feet with his sword in both hands. The Prelate’s room was more of a mess than the outer room. Papers were nearly a foot deep over most of the floor. It looked as if all the books from the shelves had exploded, throwing the pages everywhere. The heavy walnut table was in splinters against the far wall. The room was in near darkness. Only the doorway behind and the open doors to the moonlit garden let in any light.

Sister Verna lit a bright flame in her palm. In the sudden illumination, he saw a form at the far end of the room near the overturned table. The head came slowly up. The eyes locked on his. It was Sister Ulicia.

Richard dove to the side as a bolt of blue lightning blasted through the room, ripping open the wall behind. Sister Verna returned the attack with a searing gout of yellow flame. Sister Ulicia dove through the doorway into the courtyard to avoid the fire. Richard went after her. Sister Verna ran to the overturned, splintered table, pawing scraps away.

“Duck!” Richard screamed back to her.

A twisting rope of the black lightning sliced through the walls right over his head as he flattened to the floor. Severed bookshelves crashed down. He could see through the void sliced by the black lightning into the next room, and the rooms beyond. Plaster and lath and stone collapsed down, raising boiling clouds of dust.

In a fury, without thinking, Richard came to his feet when the black lighting ceased, and ran outside. He saw a dark form running down the path.

Again, black lightning arced from the shadows. The snaking void raked the courtyard. Trees toppled over, limbs snapping and popping as the trees fell. A stone wall collapsed when it was sliced in two. The noise was deafening.

When it stopped, Richard sprang to his feet again. He was just about to start running down the path to find her, when an invisible hand snatched him, yanking him back.

“Richard!” Sister Verna’s growl was as strong as he had ever heard it. “Get in here!”

He returned to the Prelate’s room, panting when he stopped over Sister Verna. “I have to go . . .”

She shot to her feet and grabbed his shirt in her real hand. “Go what! Go get killed? What good will that do? Will that help Kahlan? Sister Ulicia is a master of powers you cannot even imagine!”

“But she might get away.”

“At least you will be alive when she does. Now come help me with this table. I think the Prelate is still alive.”

Hope leapt to life in him. “Are you sure?”

Richard started pulling the broken pieces away, throwing them behind. He found the body at the bottom of the debris. Sister Verna was right. The Prelate was alive, but looked seriously hurt.

Sister Verna used her power to lift heavy pieces of the table and bookcases clear while Richard carefully pulled lesser chunks off the small woman. She was wedged into the bottom bookshelf against the wall, and covered with blood.

She groaned when Richard gently put his hands around her and drew her out. He didn’t think she was long for this life.

“We have to get help,” he said.

Sister Verna’s hands played over the Prelate’s body. “Richard, this is very bad. I can feel some of her injuries. It’s more than I can help with. I don’t know if anyone will be able to help with this.”

Richard lifted Ann in his arms. “I can’t let her die. If anyone can help her, it’s Nathan. Come on.”

Guards and Sisters came rushing, having heard the deafening roar of the power Sister Ulicia had unleashed. Richard didn’t stop to explain as he made for Nathan’s compound. He tried to hold Ann gently as he ran, but he knew by her groans that he was hurting her.

Nathan came in from his courtyard when he heard them call. “What was all that noise? What is it? What’s happened?”

“It’s Ann. She’s been hurt.”

Nathan led him into the bedroom. “I knew that stubborn woman was asking for trouble.”

Richard laid Ann gently on the bed and stood near as Nathan experimentally glided his spread fingers over the length of her. Sister Verna waited and watched from the doorway.

Nathan pushed up his sleeves. “This is serious. I don’t know if I can help her.”

“Nathan, you have to try!”

“Of course I do, boy.” He made a shooing motion with his hands. “You two go wait out there. This will take a while. At least an hour or two before I know if what I can do will help enough. Leave me to it. You can be of no help.”

Sister Verna sat with her back stiff while Richard paced.

“Richard, why do you care so much what happens to the Prelate? She had you taken when she shouldn’t have.”

Richard combed his hair back with his fingers. “I guess because she had the chance to take me when I was little, and she didn’t. She let me grow up with my parents. She let me have their love. What else is there to life, but the chance to be nurtured by love. She could have taken that, too, but she didn’t.”

“I’m glad, then, that you are not bitter.”

Richard paced and thought. He didn’t pace for long.

“Sister, I can’t sit here doing nothing. I’m going to talk to the guards. We need to know where those teachers of mine are, and what they’re doing. The guards will find out for me.”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt. Go talk to the guards. It will make the time pass more quickly.”

Richard strode down the dark, stone corridors, deep in thought. He needed to find out where Sisters Tovi, Cecilia, Merissa, Nicci, and Armina were. Any—or all—could be Sisters of the Dark. Who knew what they were planning next. They could all be looking for him. They could all be . . .

Stunning pain hurled him back. It felt as if he had been whacked across the face with a club. He staggered to his feet, the world spinning and tipping. He dumbly felt for blood, but there was none.

Another blow smashed into the back of his head. He pushed himself up on his hands, trying to decipher where he was. His thoughts came thick and slow. He struggled to understand what was happening.

A dark shadow stood over him. With an effort, and halting movements, he came to his feet again. He groped for his sword, but couldn’t remember which hand to use. He couldn’t make himself move fast enough.

“Out for a walk, country boy?”

Richard looked up at a smirking Jedidiah, standing tall with his hands in opposite sleeves. Richard found the hilt of his sword. He sluggishly worked at drawing it. He lurched back as he battled to bring the magic forth.

As the rage flooded into his foggy brain, Jedidiah pulled his hands out. He had a dacra. His arm lifted, the silver knife in his fist. Richard wondered what he should do, and if this was real. Maybe he would wake and find it only a dream.

At the apex of his swing, light seemed to come from within Jedidiah’s eyes. Slowly at first, and then with gathering speed, Jedidiah toppled forward, slamming face-first to the stone floor.

A ripple of heart-stopping darkness swept though the corridor.

When the torchlight returned, Sister Verna was standing behind where Jedidiah had stood. She had a dacra in her hand. Richard collapsed to his knees, still trying to gather his wits.

Sister Verna rushed forward, putting her hands to the sides of his head. Alertness jolted into his mind. As he came to his feet, he glanced down at the body, seeing a small, round hole in the back.

“I thought I had better go talk to some of the Sisters,” she explained. “I realized that the more people who know about the Sisters of the Dark, the better.”

“He was the one, wasn’t he? He was the one you loved.”

She slipped the dacra back up her sleeve. “He wasn’t the Jedidiah I knew. The Jedidiah I knew was a good man.”

“I’m sorry, Sister Verna.”

She nodded absently. “You go talk to the guards. I’ll talk to the Sisters. Meet me back in Nathan’s room when you’re through. I think it best if we catch a few hours’ sleep there, instead of our rooms.”

“I think you’re right. We can get our things when it’s light, and then be off.”

When he heard Nathan come into the room, Richard sat up in the chair and rubbed his eyes. Sister Verna rose more quickly from the couch. Richard blinked, trying to banish the haze of sleep.

They both had been up late. The whole palace was in an uproar. What had happened in the Prelate’s office was proof enough of the mythical Sisters of the Dark. Doubters had only to take one look at the smooth-edged voids that lined up through a dozen walls, or the cleanly sliced trees and stone, to know that nothing short of Subtractive Magic had been used.

Richard had sent the guards out to look discreetly for the six Sisters: Sister Ulicia and his five teachers. The Sisters were searching, too. He had also gone to talk to Warren, to tell him what had happened.

Richard stretched his legs as he stood. “How is she? Is she going to recover?”

Nathan looked haggard. “She’s resting more comfortably, but it’s too soon to tell. When she has rested, I will be able to do more.”

“Thank you, Nathan. I know Ann could be in no better hands than yours.”

He added a grunt to his sour expression. “You’re asking me to heal my jailer.”

“Ann will appreciate it. Perhaps she will rethink your being held. If she doesn’t, I’ll come back and see what I can do.”

“Come back? Going somewhere, my boy?”

“Yes, Nathan, and I need your help.”

“If I help you, you might get it in your obstinate head to go off and destroy the world.”

“And do the prophecies say you were sent to stop me?”

Nathan let out a tired sigh. “What is it you want?”

“How can I get through the barrier? My collar stops me.”

“What makes you think I would know?”

Richard took an angry stride toward the towering old wizard. “Nathan, don’t play games with me. I’m in no mood and this is too important. You’ve been through. You went with Ann to get the book from the Wizard’s Keep in Aydindril. Remember?”

He smoothed his sleeves down. “It’s a simple matter of shielding the Rada’Han. Ann helped me through; Sister Verna can do the same for you. I’ll tell her how.”

“And what of the Valley of the Lost? Can I get back through that?”

Nathan, his eyes suddenly intent with a dark look, shook his head. “You have called too much power to yourself. The collar has helped it grow. You’ll also call the spells. Sister Verna can’t pass again; she has been through twice already. Additionally, she has too much power now. With passing twice, and taking the gift of the other two Sisters, she is locked here.”

“Then how did you ever get through three times? You’re from D’Hara, that’s once. You went to the New World again with Ann, and came back. That makes three times. How did you do it, if it can’t be done?”

A sly smile came to his lips. “I did not go through the valley three times. Only once.” He held up a hand to silence Richard’s arguments. “Ann and I didn’t go through the valley. We went around the obstacle. We sailed around the ambit of the spells, far out to sea, landing finally in the southernmost reaches of Westland. It’s a long journey, and not easily done, but we made the crossing. Not many do.”

“By sea!” Richard glanced back to Sister Verna. “I don’t have that kind of time. Winter solstice is not even a week away. I have to go through the valley.”

“Richard,” Sister Verna said in a soft voice, “I can understand how you feel, but it will take almost that much time just to reach the Valley of the Lost. Even if you find a way through, there is no time to get where you want to go.”

Richard controlled his rage. “I am inexperienced at being a wizard. I cannot count on my gift. For that matter, I don’t care if I ever learn to use it.

“But I am also the Seeker. In that, Sister Verna, I am not so inexperienced. Nothing is going to stop me. Nothing. I’ve made a promise to Kahlan that if I must go to the underworld and battle the Keeper himself, in order to protect her, I will do it.”

Nathan’s expression darkened. “I have warned you, Richard. If that prophecy is not allowed to take place, the Keeper will have us all. You must not try to stop it. You have the power to hand the world of the living to the Keeper.”

“It’s just a meaningless riddle,” Richard growled in frustration, though he knew better.

Nathan’s scowl was the scowl of a Rahl, the scowl Richard had inherited. “Richard, death is intrinsic to life. The Creator brought it to be, too. If you make the wrong choice, all the living will pay the price of your pertinaciousness.

“And Richard, don’t forget what I told you about the Stone of Tears. If you misuse it to banish a soul to the depths of the underworld, you will destroy the balance between everything.”

“Stone of Tears?” Sister Verna said in a suspicious tone. “What would Richard have to do with the Stone of Tears?”

Richard turned back to Sister Verna. “We’re running out of time. I’m going to my room to get my things. We need to be on our way.”

“Richard,” Nathan said, “Ann has put her faith in you. She let you have the love of your family, so that perhaps you will better understand the true meaning of life. Please consider that when the time for choice is upon you.”

Richard looked up at Nathan for a long moment. “Thank you for your help, Nathan, but I won’t let the one I love die for a riddle in an old book. I hope to see you again. There is much for us to talk about.”

Richard dumped the bowl full of gold coins into the bottom of his pack before stuffing the rest of his things in. He reasoned that if it helped him save Kahlan, then it was the least the palace could do, after all they had done to him.

The gold had been a kindness that lulled the rest of the young men at the palace into laziness. It harmed their humanity, as Nathan had said. Maybe that was why Jedidiah turned to promises from the Keeper.

Richard doubted that any of the young wizards, except Warren, had done a day’s work since they had come here and had ready access to unlimited gold, but no knowledge of its value. Just one more way the Palace of the Prophets destroyed lives. He wondered how many children of young wizards that gold had spawned.

Richard went out onto the balcony to take stock before he left. Guards were patrolling the grounds. Sisters, too, were diligently searching every building and covered corridor. The Sisters would have to somehow deal with those six. He certainly had no idea how to contain their power.

When he heard the door in the front room, he assumed it would be Sister Verna. They had to get going. When he turned and looked, he had no time to react.

Pasha was storming through the room toward him. She threw her hands up. The doors blew off their hinges and over the balcony railing, falling the thirty feet to the stone-paved courtyard below.

The impact of the solid wall of air threw him back. Only the railing prevented him from being thrown over with the splintered doors. The wind had been knocked from his lungs, and a sharp pain in his side prevented him from taking another breath.

As he staggered away from the edge of the balcony, another blow threw him back once again, this time hammering his head against the stone railing. He saw a shocking spray of blood hit the stone before the slate floor collected him.

Pasha was screaming in a rage. At first, her words were nothing but an incoherent buzz in his mind. He pushed himself up with his hands. Blood was running from his head. A pool of it spread beneath him. Reeling, he toppled to his side.

He managed to sit up and flop back against the railing. “Pasha, what . . .”

“Keep your filthy mouth shut! I won’t hear any of it!”

She was standing in the doorway, fists at her sides. One fist held a dacra. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“You’re the Keeper’s spawn! You’re an obscene disciple of the Keeper! You do nothing but hurt good people!”

Richard put his hands to his head. They came away covered with blood. He was so dizzy he had to fight the urge to be sick.

“What are you talking about?” he managed to mumble.

“Sister Ulicia told me! She told me you serve the Keeper! She told me how you killed Sister Liliana!”

“Pasha, Sister Ulicia is a Sister of the Dark . . .”

“She told me you would say that! She told me how you used your vile magic to kill Sister Finella and the Prelate! That’s why you were always wanting to go to the Prelate’s office! So you could kill our leader in the Light! You are filth!”

The world swam before his eyes. He saw two of her, moving around and around each other. “Pasha . . . that’s not true.”

“Only the Keeper’s tricks saved you yesterday. You gave someone else the coat I loved, to humiliate me! Sister Ulicia told me how the Keeper whispers in your ear!

“I should have killed you when I saw you on the bridge; then none of this would have happened. But I foolishly thought I could save you from the Keeper’s clutches! Those Sisters, and the Prelate, would be alive now had I finished the job. I failed the Creator when you tricked me into killing Perry, but that will not save you again. Your vile underworld tricks will not save you again!”

“Pasha, please, just listen to me. You’re being lied to. Please listen. The Prelate isn’t dead. I can take you to her.”

“You wish to kill me, too! That’s all you ever talk of—killing! You profane us all! And to think I could have ever thought I loved you!”

She raised the dacra and, with a scream, ran for him. Richard somehow managed to pull the sword, woozily wondering which image of her to try to stop. The anger, the magic, of the sword brought strength to his arms. He brought the sword up as she dove for him, dacra first. The two images of her converged.

The sword never touched her. With a shriek, she was propelled over the railing above him. She screamed all the way down. Richard’s eyes winced shut when he heard her scream terminate as she hit the stone.

Richard opened his eyes to see a stunned Warren standing in the doorway. He remembered Jedidiah’s fall on the stairs.

“Oh, dear spirits, no,” Richard whispered.

He levered himself to his feet and took a quick glance over the edge. People rushed from different directions toward the body. Warren was shuffling woodenly toward the railing. Richard stopped him halfway there.

“No, Warren, don’t look.”

Tears welled up in Warren’s eyes. Richard put his arms around his friend. Why did you do that, he thought, I could have done it. I was going to do it. You didn’t have to.

Over Warren’s shoulder, Richard saw Sister Verna standing in the room.

“She killed Perry,” Warren said. “I heard her admit it. She was going to kill you.”

I could have done it, Richard thought, you didn’t need to. But instead he said, “Thank you, Warren. You saved my life.”

“She was going to kill you,” he cried against Richard’s shoulder. “Why would she do that?”

Sister Verna put a comforting hand to Warren’s back. “She was lied to by the Sisters of the Dark. The Keeper filled her mind with lies. She heard the whispers of the darkness. The Keeper can make even the good listen to his whispers. You did a brave thing, Warren.”

“Then why do I feel so ashamed? I loved her, and I killed her.”

Richard simply held him as he wept.

Sister Verna pulled them back into the room. She made Richard bend over as she examined his head. Blood was dripping all over the floor.

“This must be tended to. I can’t fix this much damage.”

“I can,” Warren said. “I’m fair at healing. Let me do it.”

When Warren had finished, Sister Verna made Richard hold his head over the basin while she poured the ewer of water over him, washing off the blood. Warren sat on the edge of a chair, his head in his hands. Richard thought that he was going to need the basin.

Warren’s head came up when the Sister finished. “I figured out the rule you told me about. People will believe a lie because they want to believe it’s true, or because they are afraid it is. Just like Pasha believed a lie. Am I right?”

Richard smiled. “You are, Warren.”

Warren managed a weak smile. “Sister Verna, can you take this collar off me?”

Sister Verna hesitated. “You would have to pass the test of pain, Warren.”

“Sister,” Richard said. “What do you think he just did?”

“What do you mean?”

“The young wizards sent back through the valley are able to pass because they don’t have sufficient power to draw the spells to them, they are not full wizards. Zedd told me that wizards have to pass a test of pain.

“Over the millennia, the Sisters have convoluted that into making them endure physical pain. I think they’re wrong. I think the test Warren just passed is more pain than the Sisters could ever give. Am I right, Warren?”

He nodded, his face going white again. “Nothing they ever did hurt like this.”

“Sister, remember when I told you how I turned the blade white, and killed that woman by loving her? Maybe that, too, was a form of the test of pain. I know how much that hurt.”

She spread her hands in dismay. “Do you really think that one with the gift must kill someone they love to pass the test? Richard, that can’t be.”

“No, Sister, they don’t have to kill someone they love. But they must prove they can make the right decision. They must prove they have what it takes to choose the greater good. Would one with the gift be a good servant to this Creator of yours, to the hope of life, if they could act only for selfish needs?

“Giving someone pain, as the Sisters do, doesn’t prove anything except that the victim does not die. Wouldn’t serving the light of life, and loving life, require that the person prove instead that of their own free will they would choose right, choose that light of life and love for all people?”

“Dear Creator,” she whispered, “have we had it wrong all this time?” Her hand covered her mouth a moment. “And we thought we were bringing the Creator’s Light to these boys.”

Sister Verna’s back straightened with resolve. She stood before Warren, putting her hands to the sides of his Rada’Han. As she stood with her eyes closed, her hands to the collar, there was a humming vibration in the air. After a moment, silence settled over the room, and then Richard heard a snapping sound. The Rada’Han cracked and fell away.

Warren looked positively giddy at the sight of the broken collar. Richard wished it could be that easy for him.

“What are you going to do now, Warren?” Richard asked. “Are you going to leave the palace?”

“Maybe. But I wish to study the books some more first, if the Sisters will allow it.”

“They will allow it,” Sister Verna said. “I will see to it.”

“Then, maybe I would like to travel to Aydindril, to the Wizard’s Keep, and study the books and prophecies you told me were kept there.”

“That sounds a wise plan, Warren. Sister, I must be going.”

“Warren,” she said, “why don’t you come along until I reach the valley? You are free, now.” She glanced to the balcony. “I think it would do you good to get away from here for a time, and think of other things. And I could use some help when we reach the valley, if Richard accomplishes what he thinks he will.”

“Really? I would like that.”

As the three of them lugged their gear toward the stables, three guards—Kevin, Walsh, and Bollesdun—spotted them and ran to catch up.

“We may have found them, Richard,” Kevin said.

“May have? What do you mean? Where are they?”

“Well, last night, the Lady Sefa set sail. We talked to people down at the docks who said they saw some women, maybe the Sisters, go aboard. Most agree they saw six women go aboard in the darkness, just before she sailed.”

“Sailed!” Richard groaned. “What’s the Lady Sefa?”

“A ship. A big ship. They left with the tide late in the night. They have a good lead, and from what I hear, there isn’t a ship in port that can catch the Lady Sefa, or go as far to sea.”

“We can’t go after them, and do your other task,” Sister Verna said.

Richard shifted his pack in annoyance. “You’re right. If it’s really them, they’re gone for now, but I know where they’re going. We’ll have to deal with them later. At least the Palace of the Prophets is safe. We have more important things to tend to right now. Let’s get the horses, and be on our way.”