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Authors: Terry Goodkind

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Epic

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BOOK: Stone of Tears
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All around the calm center, the cold darkness of eternal night encroached on the waning warmth and light of her life, impatient to shroud forever Jebra’s spirit. Zedd pulled back that shroud, to let the light of his gift warm her spirit with life and vitality. The shadows receded before the power of his Additive Magic.

The strength of that magic, its exigency for the well-being of life, drew the exposed organs back to where the Creator intended them. Zedd didn’t yet dare to spare anything to block her suffering. Jebra’s back arched. She wailed with the pain of it. He, too, felt her pain. His own abdomen flamed with the same agony she felt. He shook with the searing sharpness of it.

When the hardest, that which was beyond his comprehension, was finished, he at last spared a portion of the magic to block her pain. Jebra sagged against the floor with a moan of relief. He felt the relief in his own body.

Directing the flow of magic, Zedd finished the healing. He used his power to pull her wound together, letting tissue knit to tissue, flesh to flesh, layer upon layer, up to the surface of skin, joining as if it had never been parted.

Finished at last, Zedd had only to escape her mind. That was as dangerous as entering, and his strength was nearly gone; he had given it over to her. Rather than wasting any more time worrying about it, he released himself into the flow of agony.

Nearly an hour after he had begun, he found himself on his knees, hunched over, weeping uncontrollably. Jebra was sitting up, with her arms around him, holding his head to her shoulder. As soon as he was aware he was back, he managed to bring himself under control and straighten. He glanced around the hall. Everyone had been pushed back a goodly distance, beyond earshot. None had any interest in being near a wizard when he was wielding magic that left people screaming as Jebra had done.

“There,” he said, at last, with a modicum of restored dignity, “That wasn’t so bad. I believe all is well now.”

Jebra laughed a quiet, shaky laugh and hugged him tight. “I was taught a wizard couldn’t heal a Seer.”

Zedd managed to get a bony finger in the air. “No ordinary wizard can, my dear. But I am Zeddicus Zu’l Zorander, Wizard of the First Order.”

Jebra wiped a tear from her cheek. “I have nothing of value to repay you with, except this.” She unhooked the gold chain that ran through her hair and brought it down, putting it in his hand. “Please, except this humble offering.”

Zedd looked down at the chain with the blue stone. “That is very kind of you, Jebra Bevinvier. I am touched.” Zedd felt a pang of guilt for having planted the impulse in her mind. “It is a fine chain, and I will accept it in humble gratitude.” He used a thread-thin stream of power to separate the stone from its mounting. He handed the Stone back; he only needed the chain. “But the chain is payment enough. Keep your Stone; it is yours by right.”

She closed her fingers around the Stone with a nod and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He accepted the peck with a smile.

“And now, my dear, you will need to rest. I have used a good deal of your strength to put things right. Maybe a few days of bed rest, and you will be as good as new.”

“I fear that you have not only left me healed, but also without employment. I must find work to feed myself.” She looked down at the bloody, shredded rip in her green dress. “And to clothe myself.”

“Why were you wearing the Stone, if you were the servant of the Lady Ordith?”

“Not many know what the Stone signifies. Lady Ordith didn’t. Her husband, the Duke, did. He wanted my services, but his wife would never have allowed a woman in his employ, so he had me placed as her servant.

“I know it is not the most honorable thing, for a Seer to place herself covertly, but there is much starvation in Burgalass. Those in my family knew of my ability and closed their doors to me, afraid of the visions I might have of them. Before my grandmother passed on, she put her Stone in my hand, saying if I wore hers she would be honored.”

Jebra pressed the fist with the stone to her cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered, “For not accepting it. For understanding.”

Zedd felt a renewed pang of guilt. “And so this Duke had you taken in and used you for his own purposes?”

“Yes. Maybe a dozen years ago. Because I was Lady Ordith’s body servant, I was almost always present at any meeting or function. The Duke would come to me later and I would tell him what I saw of his adversaries. With my help, he made more of his power and wealth.

“Virtually no one anymore knows of the Stone of a Seer. He disdained people who ignored the old knowledge. He mocked his opponents’ ignorance by having me wear the Stone openly.

“He also had me keep an eye to the Lady Ordith. It prevented her from succeeding at making herself a widow. So she now contents herself with being absent from the Duke’s house whenever she can. She will not be displeased to be rid of me; the Duke used his strings of power to keep me employed when the Lady Ordith would have wished it otherwise.”

“Why would she be displeased with your service?” He grinned. “Are you lazy and rude, as she claims?”

Jebra smiled back, the fine wrinkles at the corners of her eyes deepening. “No. It’s the visions. Sometimes when I have them, well, you felt some of the hurt when you healed me, though it is not as bad as that for me, I think. But sometimes the hurt puts me out of her service for a time.”

Zedd rubbed his chin. “Well, since you are out of employment, you will be a guest here at the Peoples’ Palace until you are recovered. I have some little influence around here.” He marveled at the sudden truth of that, and pulled a purse from a pocket in his robes. He gave it a jingle. “For your expenses, and wage, if I could convince you to take up a new employer.”

She hefted the purse in her palm, testing its weight. “If this be copper, it is insufficient for any but you.” She smiled and leaned a little closer, her eyes merry and scolding at the same time. “And if it be silver, it is too much.”

Zedd gave her a grave expression. “It’s gold.” Startled, her eyes blinked. “But it is not me, mainly, you will be working for.”

She stared down at the purse of gold in her hand, then looked back up at him. “Who then?”

“Richard. The new Lord Rahl.”

Jebra paled and shook her head vigorously, her shoulders hunching up. She shoved the purse back in Zedd’s hands. “No.” Even paler, she shook her head again. “No. I’m sorry. I don’t want to work for him. No.”

Zedd frowned. “He is not an evil person. He’s quite kind hearted, in fact.”

“I know that.”

“You know who he is?”

She looked down at her lap and nodded. “I know. I saw him yesterday. The first day of winter.”

“And you had a vision when you saw him?”

Her voice was weak and filled with fear. “Yes.”

“Jebra, tell me what you saw. Every bit of it. Please? It’s important.”

She looked up at him from under her eyebrows for a long moment, then back down at her lap as she chewed her lower lip.

“It was at the morning devotion, yesterday. When the bell rang, I went to a square, and he was standing there, looking into the pool. I noticed him because he was wearing the sword of the Seeker. And because he was tall and handsome. And he wasn’t kneeling as the others were. He stood there, watching the people gathering, and as I approached, his eyes passed across mine. Just for an instant. The power coming from him took my breath away.

“A Seer can sense certain kinds of power, like the gift, emanating from a person.” She looked up at Zedd. “I have seen those with the gift before. I have seen their auras. They have all been like yours; there is a warmth to them, a gentleness. Your aura is beautiful. His was different. It had that, but more, too.”

“Violence,” Zedd said in a soft voice. “He is the Seeker.”

She nodded. “It could be. I don’t know; I’ve never seen the like of it before. But I can tell you what it felt like. It felt like having my face pushed into a basin of icy water before I had a chance to get a breath.

“Sometimes I never get a vision from a person. Sometimes I do. I can never tell when it’s going to come. Sometimes when a person is in distress, they throw off auras and visions more strongly. He was throwing off auras like lightning in a thunderstorm. He was in great emotional pain. Like an animal in a trap trying to chew its leg off. He felt the horror of having to betray his friends to save them. I didn’t understand that. It didn’t make any sense.

“There was an image of a woman, a beautiful woman with long hair. Maybe a Confessor, although I don’t know how that could be. The aura flamed so strongly with anguish for her that I felt my face, fearing I would find the skin burned. If I Hadn’t been at devotion, I would have had to fall to my knees anyway from the agony of the auras.

“I almost rushed to him, to comfort him, when two Mord-Sith approached, and noticed him standing, and not kneeling. He felt no fear, but he went to his knees anyway, out of resignation to the terrible betrayal he had been forced into. I was relieved when he knelt; I thought that would be the end of it. I was thankful I had seen only auras, for the most part, and not true visions. I didn’t want to see any visions from that man.” She stared off, seemingly lost in the memory of it.

“But that wasn’t the end of it?”

Her eyes came back to where she was. “No. I thought the worst of it was over, but what I had seen didn’t touch what was to come.”

Jebra dry-washed her hands for a moment. “We were saying the chant to Father Rahl, and all of a sudden he sprang up. He had a smile on his face. He had solved it. He had solved the puzzle that trapped him. The last piece had snapped into place. The woman’s face filled the aura, his love for her.”

She shook her head. “I pity the person who ever puts a finger between those two. They will lose the finger, maybe the hand, and maybe the whole arm before they have the time to think to pull it back.”

“Her name is Kahlan,” Zedd said with a little smile. “And then what happened?”

Jebra hugged her arms across her abdomen. “Then the visions started. I saw him killing a man, but I couldn’t tell how. Not with blood, but killing him just the same. And then I saw the man he was going to kill: Darken Rahl. And then I saw that it was his father, but he didn’t know it. That was when I knew who he was: the son of Darken Rahl, the soon to be new Master Rahl. The aura was flashing in terrible conflicts. Commoner to King.”

Zedd put a comforting hand to her shoulder. “Darken Rahl wanted to rule the world with a frightful magic. By stopping him, Richard saved a great many from torture or death. Even though killing is terrible, by doing so he has saved the lives of many more. Surely you would not be frightened of Richard because of that.”

She shook her head. “No. It was by what came next. The two Mord-Sith stood, because he was going to leave a devotion. One raised her Agiel, threatening him. I was surprised to see he wore one at his neck, red, just like theirs. He held it out in his fist. He told them that if they didn’t let him pass, he would kill them. The aura of violence around him took my breath away. He wanted them to try. They sensed it and let him pass. “As he turned to leave … that was when I saw the visions.” She put a hand to her heart as tears ran down her cheeks. “Zedd … my visions are not always clear. Sometimes, I don’t know what they mean. Once I saw a farmer’s vision. Birds were pecking at the stomachs of him and his family. I didn’t know what it meant. It turned out that a flock of blackbirds came and ate the seed he had just planted. He was able to replant, and guard the field. But he and his family could have starved if he hadn’t.”

She wiped her fingers at the tears on her cheeks. “Sometimes I can’t tell what the visions mean, or if they will turn out to be true; not all of that kind do.” She fussed with her hair. “But sometimes they come to pass exactly as I see them. I know when they are clear and to be as I see them, and I can tell when they are true, and will happen without a doubt.”

Zedd patted her shoulder. “I understand, Jebra. Visions are a form of prophecy, and I know how confusing prophecy can be. What kind of vision did you see from Richard? The confusing kind, or the ones that are clear?”

She shared a deep gaze with his eyes. “I saw every kind. I saw every kind of vision I have ever had, from the confusing to clear. From the possible to the certain. They came in a rush. They have never done that before. Mostly I only have a single vision, and I either know what it means and that it is true, or I don’t understand it and can’t tell if it will come to pass. The visions from this man came in a torrent. They rushed past like wind driven rain. But every one was pain and hurt and danger.

“The ones that stood out the hardest, and I knew to be true, were the worst. One was of something around his neck, I couldn’t tell what, but it was something that will cause him great pain. Take him from the woman … Kahlan, you said her name was … take him from everyone he loves. Lock him away.”

“Richard was captured by a Mord-Sith, and tortured by her. Perhaps that is what you saw,” Zedd offered.

Jebra shook her head vehemently. “It wasn’t what was; it was what will be. And not the pain of a Mord-Sith. Different. I am sure of it.”

Zedd nodded in thought. “What else?”

“I saw him in an hourglass. He was on his knees in the bottom half, crying in anguish, the sand falling all about him, but not a grain touching him. The gravestones of all those he loved were in the top half, where he couldn’t reach them against the fall of the sand.

“I saw a knife at his heart. A killing knife. Held in his own shaking hands. Before I could see what would happen, another vision came—they are not always in order of events. He was in his fine red coat, the one with gold buttons and brocade trim. He was face down … a knife in his back. He was dead, but at the same time, he wasn’t. His own hands reached down to roll him over, but before I saw his dead face, another vision came.

“It was the worst. The strongest.” The tears welled up again, and she began to sob softly. Zedd squeezed her shoulder to encourage her to go on. “I saw his flesh burning.” She wiped at the tears and rocked back and forth a little as she cried. “He was screaming. I could even smell the burning skin. Then, whatever was burning him—I couldn’t tell what it was—when it pulled back, he was unconscious, and there was a mark upon him. A mark burned into him.”

BOOK: Stone of Tears
3.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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