Chapter 55

The four of them started down the path, heading toward the dark expanse of low-lying forest, as Friedrich contemplated the staggering significance of the veil between the world of life and the world of the dead being breached. The latter part of Althea’s life revolved around the Grace she used in her tellings, so he certainly knew about the veil between worlds. Over the years, Althea had often spoken to him about it. In particular, preceding her death, she had told him much of what she had come to believe about the interaction of those worlds.

“Lord Rahl,” Friedrich said, “I think what you said about the veil between the world of the living and the dead being torn might be tied in with why Nathan thought it was so vital that I reach you with this book. He doesn’t want you to help him—that’s not why he sent me with this book—he meant this to help you.”

Lord Rahl snorted a laugh. “Right. That’s the way he always puts it—that he only wants to help you.”

“But I think this is about your sister.”

Everyone froze in their tracks.

Lord Rahl and the Mother Confessor spun around, hovering close to him. Even in the darkness, Friedrich could see how wide their eyes were open.

“I have a sister?” Lord Rahl whispered.

“Yes, Lord Rahl,” Friedrich said, taken by surprise that he didn’t know. “Well, a half sister, actually. She, too, is the offspring of Darken Rahl.”

Lord Rahl seized him by the upper arms. “I have a sister? Do you know anything about her?”

“Yes, Lord Rahl. A little, anyway. I’ve met her.”

“Met her! Friedrich, that’s wonderful! What’s she like? How old is she?”

“Not many years younger than you, Lord Rahl. Early twenties, I’d say.”

“Is she smart?” he asked with a grin.

“Too smart for her own good, I’m afraid.”

Lord Rahl laughed in delight. “I can’t believe it! Kahlan, isn’t that wonderful? I have a sister.”

“It doesn’t sound wonderful to me,” Cara growled before the Mother Confessor could answer. “It doesn’t sound wonderful at all!”

“Cara, how can you say that?” the Mother Confessor asked.

Cara leaned toward them. “Need I remind you both of the trouble we had when Lord Rahl’s half brother, Drefan, showed up?”

“No . . .” Lord Rahl said, clearly troubled by the mention.

Everyone fell silent. “What happened?” Friedrich finally dared to ask.

He gasped when Cara snatched him by the collar and jerked him close to her hot glare. “That bastard son of Darken Rahl nearly killed the Mother Confessor! And Lord Rahl! He nearly killed me! He did kill a lot of other people. He nearly got everyone killed. I hope the Keeper of the dead put Drefan Rahl in a cold dark hole for all of eternity. If you only knew what he did to the Mother Confessor—”

“That’s enough, Cara,” the Mother Confessor said in quiet command as she put a hand on the woman’s arm, gently urging her to release Friedrich’s collar.

Cara complied, but, in the heat of anger, only with great reluctance. Friedrich could clearly see why this woman was a guard to the Lord Rahl and the Mother Confessor. Even though he could not see her eyes, he could feel them, like a hawk’s, locked on him even in the dark. This was a woman whose penetrating judgment could weigh a man’s soul, and decide his fate. This was a woman not only with the authority, but with the ability, to act on what she decided was necessary.

Friedrich knew, because he had seen women like this often in the People’s Palace. When her hand came out from under her cloak to snatch him by the collar, he’d seen her Agiel dangling on a chain from her wrist. This was a Mord-Sith.

“I’m sorry about your half brother,” Friedrich said. “But I don’t think Jennsen means you harm.”

“Jennsen,” he whispered, testing his first encounter with the name of someone he never knew existed.

“As a matter of fact, Jennsen is terrified of you, Lord Rahl.”

“Terrified of me? Why would she be afraid of me?”

“She thinks you’re after her.”

Lord Rahl stared incredulously. “After her? How can I be after her? I’ve been struck down here in the Old World.”

“She thinks you want to kill her, that you send men to hunt her down.”

He was stunned to silence for a moment, as if each new thing he was hearing was even more incredible than the last. “But, I don’t even know her. Why would I want to kill her?”

“Because she is ungifted.”

Lord Rahl stepped back, trying to understand what Friedrich was telling him. “What difference does that make? Lots of people are ungifted.”

Friedrich pointed to the book in Lord Rahl’s hand. “I think Nathan sent that book to explain it.”

“Prophecy won’t help explain anything.”

“No, Lord Rahl. I don’t think this has to do with prophecy so much as with free will. You see, I know some about prophecy from my wife. Nathan explained how prophecy needs free will, and that’s why you react so strongly against prophecy, because you are a man who brings free will to balance the magic of prophecy. He said that prophecy had not proclaimed it to be me who was to bring this book to you, but that I had to bring it of my own free will.”

Lord Rahl stared at the book in the darkness. His tone softened. “Nathan can be trouble at times, but I know he’s a friend who has helped me before. His help can sometimes cause me considerable trouble, but even if I don’t always agree with the things he chooses to do, I know he chooses to do them for good reason.”

“I loved a sorceress for most of my life, Lord Rahl. I know how complex such things as this can be. I would not have come all this way if I didn’t believe Nathan in this.”

Lord Rahl appraised him for a moment. “Did Nathan say what was in this book?”

“He told me the book is from the time of a great war, thousands of years ago. He said he discovered it in the People’s Palace after a frantic search among the thousands of tomes there, and that as soon as he’d located it he brought it to me, to ask that I take it to you. He said time was so urgently short that he dare not take any more to translate the book. Because of that, he didn’t know what was in it.”

Lord Rahl looked down at the book with considerably more interest. “Well, I don’t know how much good it’s going to be able to do us. The hounds did a lot of damage to it. I’m beginning to fear why.”

“Richard, do you know at least what it says on the cover?” the Mother Confessor asked.

“I only saw it in the light long enough to see that it was in High D’Haran. I didn’t try to translate it. It says something about Creation.”

“You’re right, Lord Rahl. Nathan told me the title.” Friedrich tapped the book. “It says, there, on the cover, in gilded letters, The Pillars of Creation.”

“Great,” Lord Rahl muttered, seemingly in unhappy recognition of the title. “Well, let’s get to a safe place and set up camp. I don’t want the heart hounds to catch us out in the open in the dark. We’ll make a small fire and maybe I can see if the book will tell us anything useful.”

“You know about the pillars of Creation, then?” Friedrich asked, following after the three of them as they started off down the trail.

“Yes,” Lord Rahl said back over his shoulder in a troubled tone. “I’ve heard of them. Nathan came from the Old World, so I guess he would know about them, too.”

Friedrich scratched his jaw in confusion as they crested a small rise in the trail. “What do the pillars of Creation have to do with the Old World?”

“The Pillars of Creation are in the center of a forsaken wasteland.” Lord Rahl pointed ahead, to the south. “It’s not all that far from here, off that way. We went past there not long ago. We had to cross the fringes of the place; some very unpleasant people were after us.”

“Their bloody bones are drying in the wasteland,” Cara said with obvious pleasure.

“Unfortunately,” Lord Rahl said, “it cost us our horses, too; that’s why we’re on foot. At least we escaped with our lives.”

“Wasteland . . . but, Lord Rahl, the pillars of Creation are also what my wife called—”

Friedrich halted when something beside the path caught his eye. Even in the dim light, the hauntingly familiar dark shape silhouetted against the light color of the dusty trail drew him up short.

He squatted down to touch it. To his surprise, it felt like what he thought. When he picked it up, he was sure of it. It had the same crooked opening for the drawstring, the same notch in the supple leather where he had once accidentally nicked it with a sharp gouge when he had been in a hurry.

“What’s the matter?” Lord Rahl asked in a suspicious voice as he scanned the near-dark landscape. “Why did you stop?”

“What did you find?” the Mother Confessor asked. “I didn’t see anything there when I walked past.”

“Neither did I,” Lord Rahl said.

Friedrich swallowed as he placed the leather pouch in the palm of his hand. It felt like there were coins inside, and, by the weight, it felt like they were gold.

“This is mine,” Friedrich whispered in stunned amazement. “How could it possibly be here?”

He couldn’t claim the gold was his, though it certainly could be, but he’d handled the leather pouch nearly every day for decades. He used it to hold one of his tools—a small gouge he used often.

“What’s it doing here?” Cara asked as her gaze swept the surrounding countryside. Her Agiel was gripped tightly in her fist.

Friedrich stood, still staring at his tool pouch. “It was stolen by the man who I believe caused the death of my wife.”

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