The Pillars of Creation

Chapter 60

“Betty,what are you doing?” Jennsen asked, unable to reconcile in her mind what was happening.

“Magic,” Sister Perdita whispered from behind, in answer to Jennsen’s puzzled tone. “It’s his doing.”

Could it be that Richard Rahl had bewitched even her goat—turned it against her?

Richard took a step toward her. Betty and her twins romped around his legs, having no conception of the life-and-death events taking place before them.

“Jennsen, use your head,” Richard said. “Think for yourself. You have to help me, now. Step away from Kahlan.”

“Kill him!” Sebastian whispered with vicious determination. “Do it, Jenn! Magic can’t hurt you! Do it!”

Jennsen lifted her knife as Richard calmly watched her. She felt herself stepping toward him. When she killed him, then his magic would die, too, and Betty would know her once again.

Jennsen froze. Something was wrong. She turned to Sebastian.

“How do you know? How do you know that? I never told you that magic can’t harm me.”

“You too?” Oba called. He’d come closer. “We’re both invincible, then! We can rule D’Hara together—but I’ll be the king, of course. King Oba Rahl. I’m not greedy, though. You could be a princess, maybe. Yes, I could let you be a princess, if you’re good.”

Jennsen’s eyes turned back toward Sebastian’s surprised face. “How do you know?”

“Jenn—I just—I thought,” he stammered, trying to find an answer.

“Richard . . .” It was Kahlan, waking, but groggy. “Richard, where are we?” She winced in pain, and cried out, even though no one touched her.

When Richard took a step toward her, Jennsen stepped back before her, brandishing her knife.

“If you want her, you must come through Jennsen,” Sister Perdita said.

Richard watched her without emotion for a long moment. “No.”

“You must!” the Sister growled. “You will have to kill Jennsen, or Kahlan will die!”

“Are you crazy!” Sebastian yelled at the Sister.

“Get ahold of yourself, Sebastian,” the Sister snapped. “Salvation comes only through sacrifice. All of mankind is corrupt. One individual is unimportant—one life is meaningless. It matters not what happens to her—only her sacrifice matters.”

Sebastian stared at her, unable to answer, unable to find a reason to argue for Jennsen’s life.

“You’ll have to kill Jennsen!” Sister Perdita shrieked as she turned back to Richard. “Or I will kill Kahlan!”

“Richard . . .” Kahlan moaned, clearly not understanding where she was or what was happening.

“Kahlan,” Richard said in a calm voice, “stay still.”

“Last chance!” Sister Perdita screamed. “Last chance to save the Mother Confessor’s precious life! Last chance before the Keeper has her! Stop him, Jennsen, while I kill his wife!”

Jennsen was staggered that the Sister would be encouraging him to kill her. It made no sense. It was Lord Rahl that the Sister wanted dead. It was Lord Rahl they all wanted dead.

Jennsen knew she had to end it. She couldn’t be hurt by his magic. How Sebastian knew that, she couldn’t fathom, but she had to end it, now, while she had the chance. Why the Sister was doing this, though, was a mystery.

Unless Sister Perdita was trying to anger Richard so that he would lash out with his magic, strike with his power at Jennsen, thus giving her the opening she finally needed.

That had to be it. Jennsen dared not wait.

Unleashing a cry of fury filled with a lifetime of hate, filled with the burning agony of her mother’s murder, filled with the howling rage of the voice in her head, Jennsen launched herself at Richard.

She knew he would hurl his magic at her in order to save himself, unleash magic at her as he had unleashed it at the thousand men. He would be shocked that it didn’t work, shocked as she burst through his deadly conjuring at the last instant to suddenly plunge her knife through his evil heart. He would know too late that she was invincible.

Screaming her rage, Jennsen flew at him.

She expected a horrific blast, expected to fly through the lightning, thunder, smoke, but it never came. He caught her wrist in his fist. Simple as that. He used no magic. He cast no spell. He invoked no wizardly power.

Jennsen had no immunity to muscle, and he had plenty of that.

“Calm down,” Richard said.

She fought him furiously, an angry storm throwing all her hate and pain into her onslaught. He securely held her knife-wielding fist as she raged, her other fist pounding against his chest. He could have snapped her in two with his bare hands, but he instead let her scream and strike out at him, then let her yank herself back away to stand in the center of everyone, panting, knife held up, tears of anger and hate streaming down her cheeks.

“Kill her or Kahlan dies!” Sister Perdita shrieked again.

Sebastian shoved the Sister back. “Have you lost your mind! She can do it! He isn’t even armed!”

Richard pulled a small book from one of the pouches at his belt and held it up.

“Oh, but I am.”

“What do you mean?” Jennsen asked.

His raptor gaze settled on her. “This is an ancient text titled The Pillars of Creation. It was written by some of our ancestors, Jennsen—those among the first to be Lord Rahl, among the first who came to understand the full extent of what had been engendered by the first of the line, Alric Rahl, who created the bond, among other things. It’s very interesting reading.”

“I suppose it says that as Lord Rahl you should kill those like me,” Jennsen said.

Richard smiled. “You’re right. It does.”

“What?” She could hardly believe that he would admit it. “It really says that?”

He nodded. “It explains why all the truly ungifted offspring of the Lord Rahl—the Lord Rahl who carries down the gift of the bond to his people—must be killed.”

“I knew it!” Jennsen cried. “You tried to lie! But it’s true! It’s all right there!”

“I didn’t say that I would take the advice. I only said that the book says that your kind are to be killed.”

“Why?” Jennsen asked.

“Jenn, it doesn’t matter,” Sebastian whispered. “Don’t listen to him.”

Richard gestured to Sebastian. “He knows why. That’s why he knew you couldn’t be harmed by my magic. He knew because he knows what’s in the book.”

Jennsen spun to Sebastian, her eyes wide with sudden understanding. “Emperor Jagang has that book.”

“Jenn, you’re just talking nonsense, now.”

“I saw it, Sebastian. The Pillars of Creation. I saw it in his tent. It’s an ancient book, in his old tongue. It’s one of his prized books. He knew what it says. You are one of his prized strategists. He told you. You knew all along what it said.”

“Jenn . . . I—”

“It was you,” she whispered.

“How can you doubt me? I love you.”

Then, over the terrible tumult of the voice, the whole thing began unravelling in her mind. The crushing pain of it all came crashing in on her. The true dimensions of the betrayal became horrifyingly clear.

“Dear spirits, it was you all along.”

Sebastian, his face going nearly as white as his white spikes of hair, turned deadly calm. “Jenn, that doesn’t change anything.”

“It was you,” she whispered, wide-eyed. “You took a single mountain fever rose—”

“What! I don’t even have any such thing.”

“I saw them in a tin in your pack. There was twine on top of them, hiding them. They spilled out.”

“Oh, those. I got them from the healer—the one we visited.”

“Liar! You had them all along. You took one to give yourself a fever.”

“Jenn, now you’re just acting crazy.”

Trembling, Jennsen pointed at him with her knife. “It was you, all along. That first night, you told me, ‘Where I come from, we believe in using what is closest to an enemy, or what comes from him, as a weapon against him.’ You wanted me to have this knife. You wanted me because I was closest to your enemy. You wanted to use me. How did you get it on that soldier?”

“Jenn—”

“You claim to love me. Prove it! Don’t lie to me! Tell me the truth!”

Sebastian stared a moment before finally holding his head up and answering. “I only wanted to gain your trust. I thought that if I had a fever you would take me in.”

“And the dead soldier I found?”

“He was one of my men. We captured the man who carried that knife. I gave it to one of my men, had him dress in a D’Haran uniform, then, after we saw you pass below, I pushed him over the cliff.”

“You killed your own man?”

“Sacrifice for the greater cause is sometimes necessary. Salvation comes through sacrifice,” he added in defiant defense.

“How did you know where I was?”

“Emperor Jagang is a dream walker. He learned about your kind through the book years ago. He used his ability to search for any who might know of your existence. Over time, he put together evidence in order to track you down.”

“And the note I found?”

“I planted it on him. Jagang found out through his ability that you once used that name.”

“The bond prevents the dream walker from entering a person’s mind,” Richard said. “He must have searched for a long time, looking for those who aren’t bonded to the Lord Rahl.”

Sebastian nodded with satisfaction. “That’s right. And we succeeded, too.”

Jennsen, burning with blinding anger, with the agony of such monumental betrayal, swallowed. “And the rest? My . . . mother? Was that one of your necessary sacrifices, too?”

Sebastian licked his lips. “Jenn, you don’t understand. I didn’t really know you then—”

“They were your own men. That’s why it was so easy for you to kill them. They weren’t expecting you to attack them—they thought you were there to fight alongside them. And that’s why you were confused when I told you about the quads, about how many more men I thought there were. They weren’t really quads. You had to kill some innocent people along the way in order to make me think it was the other member of a quad. All those times you went out at night to scout and came back saying they were right behind us, and we kept running through the night—you made it all up.”

“To a good cause,” Sebastian said, quietly.

Jennsen gasped in her tears, her fury. “A good cause! You killed my mother! It was you all along! Dear spirits . . . to think that I . . . oh, dear spirits, I slept with my mother’s murderer. You filthy—”

“Jenn, get ahold of yourself. It was necessary.” He pointed at Richard. “This is the cause of it all! We have him now! This was all necessary! Salvation only comes through selfless sacrifice. Your sacrifice—your mother’s sacrifice—has captured us Richard Rahl, the man who has hunted you your whole life.”

Tears of rage poured down her face. “I can’t believe you could have done such things to me and claimed to love me.”

“But I do, Jenn. I didn’t know you, then. I told you—I never intended to fall in love with you, but I did. It just happened. You are my life, now. I love you, now.”

She pressed her hands to the voice screaming in her head. “You are evil! I could never love you!”

“Brother Narev teaches that all of mankind is evil. We can have no moral existence because mankind is a taint on the world of life. At least Brother Narev is at last in a better place. He’s with the Creator, now.”

“You mean to say that even Brother Narev is evil, then? Because he is part of mankind? Even your precious, sacred Brother Narev was evil?”

Sebastian glared at her. “The one who is truly evil is standing right there”—he pointed—“Richard Rahl, for killing a great man. Richard Rahl must be put to death for his crimes.”

“If mankind is evil, and if Brother Narev is in a better place—with the Creator—then Richard has done a kindness by killing Brother Narev, by sending him into the Creator’s arms, hasn’t he? And if mankind is evil, then how could Richard Rahl be evil for killing men of the Order?”

Sebastian’s face had gone red. “We are all evil, but some are more evil than others! As least we have the humility before the Creator to recognize our own wickedness, and to glorify only the Creator.” He paused and cooled visibly. “I know it’s a sign of weakness, but I love you.” He gave her a smile. “You have become my only reason for being, Jenn.”

She could only stare at him. “You don’t love me, Sebastian. You don’t have any idea what love really is. You can’t love anyone or anything until you love your own existence, first. Love can only grow out of a respect for your own life. When you love yourself, your own existence, then you love someone who can enhance your existence, share it with you, and make it more pleasurable. When you hate yourself and believe your existence is evil, then you can only hate, you can only experience the shell of love, that longing for something good, but you have nothing to base it in but hatred. You taint the very concept of love, Sebastian, with your corrupted longing for it. You want me only to justify your hatred, to be your partner in self-loathing.

“To truly love someone, Sebastian, you must revel in their existence because they make life all the more wonderful. If you think existence is corrupt, then you are sealed off from the fruition of such a relationship, from what love really is.”

“You’re wrong! You just don’t understand!”

“I understand all too well. I only wish I had sooner.”

“But I do love you, Jenn. You’re wrong. I do love you!”

“You can only wish you did. They are the empty words of a barren shell of a man. There is nothing there for me to love—nothing worth loving. You are so empty of humanity that it’s even difficult for me to hate you, Sebastian, except in the sense of the way one would hate an open sewer.”

Lightning crashed down on the pillars all around. The voice in Jennsen’s head felt as if it would tear her apart.

“Jenn—you don’t mean any of that. You can’t. I can’t live without you.”

Jennsen turned her cold fury on him. “The only thing in the whole world that you could do that would please me, Sebastian, would be to die!”

“I’ve listened to this touching lovers’ spat long enough,” Sister Perdita growled. “Sebastian, be a man and shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you. Your life means just as little as anyone elses. Richard, you have a choice. Jennsen or the Mother Confessor.”

“You don’t have to serve the Keeper, Sister,” Richard said. “You don’t have to serve the dream walker, either. You have a choice.”

Sister Perdita pointed at him. “You have a choice! I make you this offer, once! Your time is up! Kahlan’s time is up! Jennsen or Kahlan—choose!”

“I don’t like your rules,” Richard said. “I choose neither.”

“Then I choose for you! Your precious wife dies!”

Even as Jennsen dove at her to stop her, Sister Perdita seized Kahlan by the hair and lifted her head. The Mother Confessor’s face was blank of all expression.

Jennsen caught Sister Perdita’s arm, swinging the knife with the ornate letter “R” as fast as she could, with as much power as she could apply, hoping against hope that she was fast enough to save Kahlan’s life, yet knowing even as she made the attempt that she was already too late.

There was a crystal-clear instant when the world seemed to stop, to freeze in place.

And then, there was a violent concussion to the air, thunder without sound.

The terrible shock drove a ring of dust and rock away from the Mother Confessor in an ever-expanding circle. The shock to the columns so close all around shook the towering pillars. Some, that were so precariously balanced, toppled. As they fell, they hit others, bringing them down as well. It seemed to take forever for the huge sections of rock to plunge through the sweltering air, trailing dust as they disintegrated, plummeting down like thunder made of stone. As the rock came crashing to ground it seemed the entire valley shook under the tremendous blows. Blinding dust swirled up into the air.

The world went black, as if all light had been taken away, and in that terrifying instant, in the total blackness, it seemed that there was no world, no anything.

The world came back, like a shadow lifting.

Jennsen found herself holding the arm of a dead woman. The Sister toppled to the ground like one of the stone pillars. Jennsen saw her knife jutting from the Sister’s chest.

Richard was already there, holding Kahlan in his arms, slicing through the rope, easing her down. She looked drained, but other than her weakness, she looked fine.

“What happened?” Jennsen asked in wonder.

Richard smiled at her. “The Sister made a mistake. I warned her. The Mother Confessor unleashed her power into Sister Perdita.”

“Did you have to warn her?” Kahlan asked, suddenly quite coherentsounding. “She might have listened to you.”

“No, it only encouraged her to do it.”

Jennsen realized that the voice was gone. “What happened? Did I kill her?”

“No. She was dead before your knife touched her,” Kahlan said. “Richard was distracting her so I could use my power. You tried, but you were an instant too late. She was already mine.”

Richard put a comforting hand on Jennsen’s shoulder. “You didn’t kill her, but you made a choice that saved your own life. That shadow that passed over us as the Sister died was the Keeper of the dead taking one who had sworn herself to him. Had you made the wrong choice, you would have been taken with her.”

Jennsen’s knees were trembling. “The voice is gone,” she whispered aloud. “It’s gone.”

“The Keeper inadvertently revealed his intent,” Richard said. “Since the hounds were loose, that meant the veil—the conduit between worlds—was open.”

“I don’t understand.”

Richard gestured with the book before he tucked it back into one of the pouches at his belt. “Well, I haven’t had time to read it all, but I’ve read enough to learn a little. You are an ungifted offspring of a Lord Rahl. That makes you the balance to the gifted Rahl—to magic. You not only have none, but you’re not touched by it. In a time of a great war, the House of Rahl was created to give birth to a line of powerful wizards, but in so doing, it also sowed the seeds of the end of magic for the world. It may be the Imperial Order that wants a world without magic, but it is the House of Rahl that may eventually deliver it.

“You, Jennsen Rahl, are potentially the most dangerous person alive, because you, like any truly ungifted Rahl, are the seed that could spawn a new world without magic.”

Jennsen stared into his gray eyes. “Then why would you not want me dead, like every Lord Rahl before you?”

Richard smiled. “You have as much right to your life as anyone else—as any Lord Rahl has ever had to their life. There is no right way for the world to be. The only right is that people be allowed to live their own life.”

Kahlan pulled the knife from Sister Perdita’s chest and cleaned it on the black robes before handing it to Jennsen. “Sister Perdita was wrong. Salvation is not through sacrifice. Your responsibility is to yourself.”

“Your life is your own,” Richard said, “and not anyone else’s. You made me proud, hearing everything you said to Sebastian.”

Jennsen stared down at the knife in her hand, still dazed and confused by everything that was happening. She looked around in the gathering darkness, but didn’t see Sebastian anywhere. Oba was gone, too.

As she looked around, Jennsen was startled to see a Mord-Sith standing not far away, “This is just great,” the woman complained to the Mother Confessor, throwing her hands up. “The girl sounds like Lord Rahl. Now I’m going to have to listen to two of them.”

Kahlan smiled and sat down, leaning back against the pillar where she had been tied, watching Richard, listening, stroking the ears of Betty’s twin kids.

Betty watched her two young ones, then, seeing them safe, peered hopefully up at Jennsen. Her little tail started wagging in a blur.

“Betty?”

Betty happily jumped up on her, eager for a reunion. Jennsen tearfully hugged the goat before standing to face her brother.

“But why would you not do as your ancestors? Why? How can you risk everything in that book?”

Richard hooked his thumbs behind his belt and took a deep breath. “Life is the future, not the past. The past can teach us, through experience, how to accomplish things in the future, comfort us with cherished memories, and provide the foundation of what has already been accomplished. But only the future holds life. To live in the past is to embrace what is dead. To live life to its fullest, each day must be created anew. As rational, thinking beings, we must use our intellect, not a blind devotion to what has come before, to make rational choices.”

“Life is the future, not the past,” Jennsen whispered to herself, considering all that life now held for her. “Where did you ever hear such a thing?”

Richard grinned. “It’s the Wizard’s Seventh Rule.”

Jennsen gazed up at him through her tears. “You have given me a future, a life. Thank you.”

He embraced her, then, and Jennsen suddenly didn’t feel alone in the world. She felt whole again. It felt so good to be held as she wept with tears for her mother, and tears for the future, for the joy that there was life, and a future.

Kahlan rubbed Jennsen’s back. “Welcome to the family.”

When Jennsen wiped her eyes, and laughed at everything and nothing while she used her other hand to scratch Betty’s ears, she saw, then, Tom standing nearby.

Jennsen ran to him and fell into his arms. “Oh, Tom. You can’t know how glad I am to see you! Thank you for bringing me Betty.”

“That’s me. Goat delivery, as promised. Turns out that Irma, the sausage lady, only wanted your goat to get herself a kid. She has a billy and wanted a young one. She kept one and let you have the other two.”

“Betty had three?”

Tom nodded. “I’m afraid that I’ve become very fond of Betty and her two little ones.”

“I can’t believe that you did that for me. Tom, you’re wonderful.”

“My mother always said so, too. Don’t forget, you promised to tell Lord Rahl.”

Jennsen laughed in delight. “I promise! But, how in the world did you ever find me?”

Tom smiled and pulled a knife from behind his back. Jennsen was astonished to see that it was identical to the one she had.

“You see,” he explained, “I carry the knife in service to Lord Rahl.”

“You do?” Richard asked. “I’ve never even met you.”

“Oh,” the Mord-Sith said, “Tom, here, is all right, Lord Rahl. I can vouch for him.”

“Why, thank you, Cara,” Tom said with a twinkle in his eye.

“And you knew all along, then,” Jennsen asked, “that I was making it all up?”

Tom shrugged. “I wouldn’t be a proper protector to Lord Rahl if I let such a suspicious person as you roam around, trying to do harm, without doing my best to find out what you were up to. I’ve kept tabs on you, followed you a goodly part of your journeying.”

Jennsen swatted his shoulder. “You’ve been spying on me!”

“As a protector to Lord Rahl, I had to see what you were up to, and to make sure you didn’t harm Lord Rahl.”

“Well,” she said, “I don’t think you were doing a very good job of it then.”

“What do you mean?” Tom asked with exaggerated indignation.

“I could have really stabbed him. You just stood way over there the whole time, too far away to do anything about it.”

Tom smiled that boyish grin of his, but this time it was a little more mischievous than usual.

“Oh, I’d not have let you hurt Lord Rahl.”

Tom turned and heaved his knife. With blinding speed such as she had never seen, the blade flew across the valley, embedding itself with a thunk in one of the faraway fallen stone pillars. Jennsen squinted and saw that it had been driven through something dark.

She followed Tom, Richard, Kahlan, and the Mord-Sith between towering columns and stone rubble to where the knife was stuck. To Jennsen’s astonishment, it had impaled a leather pouch—right through the center—being held up by a hand coming from beneath the huge section of fallen stone.

“Please,” came a muffled voice from under the rock, “please let me out. I’ll pay you. I can pay. I have my own money.”

It was Oba. The rock had fallen on him when he ran. It had landed on boulders that kept the main section of stone, big enough that twenty men couldn’t have joined hands around it, from collapsing to the ground, leaving a tiny space, trapping the man alive under the tons of rock.

Tom pulled his knife from the soft stone and retrieved the leather pouch. He waved it in the air.

“Friedrich!” he called toward the wagon. A man sat up. “Friedrich! Is this yours?”

Jennsen was astonished yet again, in this astonishing day, to see Friedrich Gilder, the husband of Althea, climb down from the wagon and make his way over to them.

“That’s mine,” he said. He looked under the rock. “You have more.”

After a moment, the hand began passing out more leather and cloth purses. “There, you have all my money. Let me out, now.”

“Oh,” Friedrich said, “I don’t think I could lift that rock. Especially not for the man who is responsible for the death of my wife.”

“Althea died?” Jennsen asked in shock.

“I’m afraid so. My sunshine has gone from my life.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “She was a good woman.”

Friedrich smiled. “Yes, she was.” He pulled a small smooth stone from his pocket. “But she left me this, and that much is a pleasure.”

“Isn’t that odd,” Tom said in wonder. He fished around in his pocket until he came up with something. He opened his hand to reveal a small smooth stone sitting in his palm. “I have one of those, too. I always carry it as a good-luck charm.”

Friedrich eyed him suspiciously. He grinned at last. “She has smiled on you, too, then.”

“I can’t breathe,” came a muffled voice from under the rock. “Please, it hurts. I can’t move. Let me out.”

Richard held his hand out toward the rock. There came a grinding sound and a sword floated from under the rock. He bent and pulled his scabbard out, dragging the baldric out behind. He wiped the dust off and placed the baldric over his shoulder, the scabbard at his hip. The sword was magnificent, a proper weapon for the Lord Rahl.

Jennsen saw the gleaming gold word “TRUTH” on the hilt.

“You faced all those soldiers, and you didn’t even have your sword,” Jennsen said. “I guess your magic was better defense.”

Richard smiled as he shook his head. “My ability works through need and anger. With Kahlan taken, I had plenty of need, and a ready rage.” He lifted the hilt clear of the scabbard until she could again see the word spelled out in gold. “This weapon works all the time.”

“How did you know where we were?” Jennsen asked him. “How did you know where Kahlan was?”

Richard burnished a thumb over the single gold word on the hilt of his sword. “My grandfather gave me this. King Oba, there, stole it when, with the Keeper’s help, he captured Kahlan. This sword is rather special. I have a connection to it; I can sense where it is. The Keeper no doubt induced Oba to take it in order to entice me here.”

“Please,” Oba called, “I can’t breathe.”

“Your grandfather?” Jennsen asked, ignoring Oba’s distress, his weeping. “You mean, Wizard Zorander?”

Richard’s whole face softened with a splendid grin. “You’ve met Zedd, then. He’s wonderful, isn’t he?”

“He tried to kill me,” Jennsen muttered.

“Zedd?” Richard scoffed. “Zedd’s harmless.”

“Harmless? He—”

The Mord-Sith, Cara, poked at Jennsen with the red rod she had—the Agiel.

“What are you doing?” Jennsen asked. “Stop that.”

“That doesn’t do anything to you?”

“No,” Jennsen said, scowling. “No more than it did when Nyda did it.”

Cara’s eyebrow went up. “You’ve met Nyda?” She looked up at Richard. “And she can still walk. I’m impressed.”

“She’s immune to magic,” Richard said. “That’s why your Agiel won’t work on her, either.”

Cara, with a sly smile, looked over at Kahlan.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Kahlan asked.

“She might just be able to solve our little problem,” Cara said, her wicked grin growing.

“Now, I suppose,” Richard said in ill humor, “you’re going to have her touch it, too.”

“Well,” Cara said defensively, “someone has to. You don’t want me to do it again, do you?”

“No!”

“What are you three talking about?” Jennsen asked.

“We have some urgent problems,” Richard said. “If you’d like to help, I think you just might have the special talent it takes to get us out of a serious bind.”

“Really? You mean you want me to go with you?”

“If you’re willing,” Kahlan said. She leaned on Richard, looking like she was at the end of her strength.

“Tom,” Richard said, “might we—”

“Of course!” Tom said, dashing over to offer his arm to Kahlan. “Come on over. I have some nice blankets in back where you can lay down—just ask Jennsen, they’re real comfortable. I’ll drive you back up the easy way.”

“That would be much appreciated,” Richard said. “It’s just about dark. We’d better stay here for the night and ride out as soon as it’s light enough. Hopefully, before it gets too hot.”

“The rest of them will want to sit back there with the Mother Confessor, I expect,” Tom whispered to Jennsen. “If you don’t mind, you could ride up on the seat with me.”

“First I want to know something—the truth, now,” Jennsen said. “If you’re a defender to Lord Rahl, what would you have done, standing over there, if I had harmed Lord Rahl?”

Tom looked down at her with a serious expression. “Jennsen, if I really thought that you would or could, I’d have put this knife in you before you had the chance.”

Jennsen smiled. “Good. I’ll ride with you, then. My horse is up there,” she said pointing up past the Pillars of Creation. “I’ve become good friends with Rusty.”

Betty bleated at the sound of the horse’s name. Jennsen laughed and scratched Betty’s fat middle. “You remember Rusty?”

Betty bleated that she did as her kids frolicked near by.

In the distance behind, Jennsen could hear the murdering Oba Rahl demanding to be let out. She stopped and looked back, realizing that he, too, was a half brother. A very evil one.

“I’m sorry I thought such terrible things about you,” she said, looking up at Richard.

He smiled as he held Kahlan close with one arm, and then pulled Jennsen close with the other. “You used your head when confronted with the truth. I couldn’t ask for any more than that.”

The weight of the rock that had fallen was slowly crushing the sandstone boulders holding up the pillar trapping Oba. It was only a matter of hours until Oba was crushed to death in his inescapable prison, or, if not, until he died of thirst.

After such a defeat, the Keeper wasn’t going to reward Oba with any help. The Keeper would have eternity to make Oba suffer for failure.

Oba was a killer. Jennsen suspected that Richard Rahl had no shred of mercy for someone like that, or anyone who hurt Kahlan. He showed Oba none.

Oba Rahl would be buried forever with the Pillars of Creation.