Chainfire (Sword of Truth – 9)

The general wiped a hand across his face, as if all their concern was distilled into him alone. «So our army coming south is close to the palace, then.»

«No. They are still some distance to the north. Armies don't move rapidly unless necessary. Since we don't have nearly as much distance to cover as the Order, and Jagang moves his troops at a slow pace, we fell it would be better to keep our men healthy and strong, rather than exhaust them on a long race south. Berdine and I rode on ahead because it was urgent that I examine some of the books here — on matters to do with magic. As long as I'm here, I thought I should check on things in the Garden of Life to make certain that everything is safe.»

The man took a breath as he drummed his fingers on his weapons bell. «I'd like to help you, Prelate, but I have orders from three wizards to keep everyone out of there. They were quite specific: no one, not even the gardening staff, is to be allowed to go in there.»

Verna's brow tightened. «What three wizards?»

«First Wizard Zorander, then Lord Rahl himself, and lastly wizard Nathan Rahl.»

Nathan. She might have known he would be trying to make himself look important at the palace, no doubt dramatically playing up the part of being a gifted Rahl, an ancestor to Richard. Verna wondered what other trouble the man had been mucking about in while he was at the People's Palace.

«Commander General, I am a Sister, and Prelate of the Sisters of the light. I'm fighting on the same side as you.»

«Sister,» he said with an accusatorial, squint-eyed glare that only an army officer could conjure up. «We had a Sister visit us before. Couple years back. Remember, lads?» He glanced around at the grim faces before turning back to Verna. «Wavy, shoulder-length brown hair, about your size, Prelate. She was missing the little finger on her right hand. Maybe you remember her? One of your Sisters, I believe.»

«Odette,» Verna confirmed with a nod. «Lord Rahl told me about the trouble you had with her. She was a fallen Sister, you might say.»

«I don't really care what side of the Creator's grace she was on the day she visited us. I only know that she killed almost three hundred men getting into the Garden of Life. Three hundred! She killed nearly a hundred more getting back out. We were helpless against her.» As his face reddened, his scars stood out all the more. «Do you know what it's like to see men dying and not be able to do a bloody thing about it? Do you know what it's like not only to be responsible for their lives but to know that your duty is to keep her out of there — and not be able to do anything to stop the threat'?»

Verna's gaze fell away from the man's intent blue eyes. «I'm sorry, General. But she was fighting against Lord Rahl. I am not. I'm on your side. I'm fighting to stop those like her.»

«That may be true enough, but my orders from both Zedd and Lord Rahl himself-after he killed that vile woman-are that no one else is to be allowed in there. No one. If you were my own mother I'd not be able to let you go in there.»

Something didn't make sense to her.

Verna cocked her head. «If Sister Odette was able to get in there, and you and your men couldn't stop her»-she lifted an eyebrow."then what makes you think you can stop me?»

«I'd not like it to come to that, but, if need be, this time we have the means at hand to carry out our orders. We are no longer helpless.»

Verna frowned. «What are you talking about?»

Commander General Trimack plucked a black glove from his belt and pulled it on, flexing his fingers to draw the snug glove all the way onto his hand. With a thumb and first finger of his gloved hand, he carefully lifted a red-fletched arrow from the rack of six in a quiver at the belt of a soldier beside him. The soldier already had one of the bolts nocked in his crossbow, leaving four in the special quiver rack.

Holding the bolt by the nock end, General Trimack lifted the razor-sharp steel point before Verna's face so that she could see it up close. «This is tipped with more than steel. It's tipped with the power to take down those with magic.»

«I still don't know what are you talking about.»

«It's tipped with magic that is said to be able to penetrate any shield the gifted can erect.»

Verna reached out and with a finger carefully touched the rear of the shaft. Pain shot up her hand and wrist before she was able to jerk her arm hack. Despite her gift being diminished in the palace, she had no trouble being able to detect the powerful aura given off by the web of magic that had been spun around the deadly point. This was indeed a potent weapon. Even with their full powers, the gifted would indeed be in trouble if they encountered one of these arrows coming toward them.

«If you have these arrows, then why weren't you able to stop Sister Odette?»

«We didn't have them back then.»

Verna's frown darkened. «Then where did you get them?»

The general smiled with the satisfaction of a man who knew he would not again be defenseless against a gifted enemy. «When Wizard Rahl was here he asked me about our defenses. I told him about the attack by the sorceress and how we were helpless against her power. He searched the palace and found these weapons. Apparently they were in some safe place where only a wizard could retrieve them. He is the one who supplied my men with the arrows and the crossbows to fire them.»

«How good of Wizard Rahl.»

«Yes, it was.»

The general carefully replaced the bolt in the special quiver rack that kept the arrows separated. She understood, now, why that was necessary. There was no telling how ancient these weapons really were, but Verna suspected that they were relics from the great war.

«Wizard Rahl instructed us on how to handle such dangerous weapons.» He held up his hand and wiggled his gloved fingers. «Told us that we must always wear these special gloves to handle the arrows.»

He removed the glove and tucked it behind his belt with its mate. Verna clasped her hands before herself, taking a deep breath and with it care in how she framed her words.

«General, I have known Nathan Rahl since long before your grandmother was born. He is not always candid about the dangers involved in the things he does. Were I you, I would handle those weapons with the utmost care, and treat anything he told you about them, even casually, as a matter of life and death.»

«Are you suggesting he's reckless?»

«No, not deliberately, but he often tends to downplay matters that he finds — inconvenient. Besides that, he is very old and very talented, so sometimes it's easy for him to forget just how much more he knows about some very arcane subjects than most other people, or that he can do things with his gift that they aren't able to do, much less comprehend. You might say he's like an old man who forgets to tell visitors that his dog bites.»

Men up and down the hall exchanged looks. Some of them lifted an elbow or a hand away from the quivers at their belts.

General Trimack hooked a thumb around the hilt of the short sword in its sheath at his left hip. «While I take seriously your warning, Prelate, I hope that you will understand that I also take seriously the lives of the hundreds of my men who died the last time a Sister showed up and we were defenseless against her magic. I take seriously the lives of these men here. I don't want any such thing to happen again.»

Verna wet her lips and reminded herself that the man was only doing his job. With the way the palace drained away her Han, she had an uncomfortable empathy with his feeling about being powerless.

«I understand,» General Trimack.» She smoothed back a wave of hair. «I, too, know the heavy weight of responsibility for the lives of others. Of course the lives of your men are valuable and anything that will prevent the enemy from taking those lives is worthwhile. It is in that vein that I'm advising you to be careful with weapons that are wrought with magic. Such things are not typically intended for the unsupervised use of the ungifted.»

The man nodded once. «We take your warning seriously.»

«Good, then you should also know that what is in that room is dangerous in the extreme. It's a danger to all of us. It would be in all our interest if, while I'm here, I just make sure it's safe.»

«Prelate, I understand your concern, but you must understand that my orders gave me no discretion for exceptions. I simply can't allow you to go in there on your word that you are who you say you are, or that your intent is only to help us. What if you were a spy? A traitor? The Keeper himself in the flesh? A sincere looking woman though you may be, I didn't get to the rank of commander general by letting attractive women talk me into things.»

Verna was momentarily startled by being called an «attractive woman» in front of all these people.

«But I can personally assure you that no one-no one at all has been in there since Lord Rahl himself was in there last. Not even Nathan Rahl went in there. Everything in the Garden of Life remains untouched.»

«I understand, General.» It would be a long time before she ever made it back to the palace. There was no telling where Richard was or when he would return. She rubbed her fingers on her forehead as she considered the quandary. «Tell you what, how about if I don't go in and instead I just stand in the doorway-outside the Garden of Life-and look in to make sure the three boxes being held in there are safe. You can even have a dozen of your men point those deadly arrows at my back.»

He chewed his lip as he considered. «Men in front of you, men to the sides, and men to the back will have you under the points of their arrows and their fingers will be on the release levers. You can look past my men, through the doorway, and into the Garden of Life, but you may not cross the threshold under penalty of death.»

Verna didn't actually need to get close enough to touch the boxes. Truth be told, she didn't really even want to get close to them. All she really wanted to do was to make sure that they were untouched by anyone else. At the same time, she wasn't exactly comfortable with the idea of all those men being only a finger twitch away from releasing one of those deadly arrows at her. After all, the notion to check on the boxes of Orden had only been an afterthought, being as she was already at the palace. It wasn't why she had come to the palace. Still, she was so close.

«Bargain struck, General. I only need to see that they are safe so that we all can sleep a little easier.»

«I'm all for sleeping easier.»

Berdine and Verna, with a knot of soldiers surrounding them, were led by Commander General Trimack down a broad passageway of polished granite. Columns spaced against the wall framed great slabs of stone as if they were artwork. To Verna, they were visual evidence of the Creator's hand, artwork from the garden he had cultivated that was the world of life. The sound of all the men moving along with them echoed up and down the great hallway as they passed a series of intersections that were arms of the spell-form all pulling back into the center that was the Garden of Life. They at last came to a pair of doors covered in carvings of rolling hills and forests and sheathed in gold.

«Beyond is the Garden of Life,» the general told her in a sober tone.

As soldiers surrounded her, raising their crossbows, the general began drawing one of the great gold doors open. Some of the men lo the side and rear pointed their arrows at her head. The four men who moved in front of her leveled their crossbow bolts at her heart. She was at least relieved not to have the ones in front of her pointed at her face. She thought the whole thing was silly, but she knew that these men were dead serious, so she treated it as such.

As the gold-clad door was swung wide, Verna, in lockstep with her cadre of personal assassins, shuffled closer to the opening so that she could see. She had to crane her neck and finally swish a hand to gently urge one of the men to move a little to the side so that she could have a clear view into the great room.

From the rather dimly lit hallway, Verna peered inside and saw that overcast skies lit the place in all its glory through leaded windows high overhead. She was astonished to see that all the way up in the center of the People's Palace, the Garden of Life looked just like — a lush garden.

From what she could see, around the outside of the room walkways wound their way through flower beds. The ground was littered with petals, a few still-colorful reds and yellows but most long since dried and shriveled. Beyond the flowers grew small trees and then beyond them were short, stone, vine-covered walls. Contained within the walls was a variety of shrubs and ornamental plants, although they were in sorry shape from lack of care. Many were gangly with long, new shoots and in need of a trimming. Others were infested with invasive vines. It looked as if General Trimack had been telling the truth that no one, not even the gardeners, had been allowed into the place.

At the Palace of the Prophets they had had an indoor garden, although on a much smaller scale. There had been a system of pipes coming from collection barrels on the roof that kept the garden watered. Recognizing similar pipes in a corner, Verna realized that rainwater collected on the roof provided a constant supply of water in this place as well or everything in the garden, lit by such wonderful light, would be dried up and dead.

In the center of the expansive room was an area of shaggy lawn that swept around almost into a circle, the grass ring interrupted by a wedge of white stone. On that stone sat two short, fluted pedestals that held a slab of smooth granite.

Atop the granite altar sat three boxes, their surfaces such an inky black that it almost surprised her that they didn't suck the light entirely out of the room and pull the whole world with it into the eternal darkness of the underworld. Just the sight of such sinister things made her heart feel as if it were coming up in her throat.

Verna knew the three boxes as the gateway, and they were exactly what the name implied. In this case, they were together a kind of gateway between the world of the living and the world of the dead. The gateway was constructed of the magic of both worlds. If that passage between worlds were ever to be undone, the veil would be breached and the seal would be off the Nameless One — the Keeper of the Dead.

Because the information had been in highly restricted books, only a few people at the Palace of the Prophets were even aware of the gateway by its ancient name, the boxes of Orden. The three boxes worked together, and together they constituted the gateway. As far as anyone at the Palace of the Prophets knew, the gateway had been lost for over three thousand years. Everyone thought that it was gone, vanished, disappeared for good. There had even been speculation for centuries as to whether or not such a gateway had ever really existed. If such a gateway could even exist had been the source of much heated theological debate.

The gateway-the boxes of Orden-did exist, and Verna was having trouble taking her eyes off it.

It made her heart race to see such vile things. Cold sweat dampened her dress.

It was small wonder that three wizards had ordered the general to allow no one into the room. Verna reconsidered her opinion of Nathan for equipping the First File with such dangerous weapons.

The jeweled covering had been removed, leaving the sinister black of the boxes themselves, because Darken Rahl had put the boxes in play and had planned to use the power of Orden to claim mastery over the world of the living. Fortunately, Richard had stopped him.

Stealing the boxes now, though, wouldn't do a thief any good. Extensive information was required to understand how the magic of Orden worked and how the gateway functioned. Part of that information was contained in a book that no longer existed except in Richard's mind. That, in fact, had been part of how he had defeated Darken Rahl.

In addition to vast knowledge and information, any thief would also would need to have both Additive and Subtractive Magic in order to use the gateway or to claim the power of Orden for himself.

The real danger would probably be lo any person foolish enough to handle such treacherous things. I

Verna sighed with relief at seeing the three boxes untouched, right where Richard had said he'd left them. For now, there was no safer place to keep such dangerous magic. Someday, maybe Verna could help find a way to destroy the gateway-if such a thing were even possible-but for now it was safe.

«Thank you, General Trimack. I'm relieved to see that everything is as it should be.»

«And it will stay that way,» he said as he put his weight against the door, It soundlessly moved closed. «No one is getting in there except Lord Rahl.»

Verna smiled at the man. «Good.» She glanced around at the magnificent palace around her, the illusion of permanence, peace, and security it exuded. If only it were so. «Well, I'm afraid that we need to be on our way. I have to get back to our forces. I will tell General Meiffert that things here at the palace are well in hand. Let us hope that Lord Rahl will be joining us soon and we can stop the Imperial Order before they ever reach this place. Prophecy says that if he joins us for the final battle, we have a chance to crush the Imperial Order, if not drive them back to the Old World.»

The general gave her a grim nod. «May the good spirits be with you, Prelate.»

With Berdine at her side, Verna made her way back out of the restricted area and away from the Garden of Life. As they once again descended the stairs, she was relieved to be on her way back to the army, even if she was worried over their mission. She realized that since coming to the palace she felt more of a sense of commitment, and more of a sense of connection to what had became the D'Haran empire under Richard. Even more than that, she seemed to care more about life.

But if they didn't find Richard and get him to lead their forces in the battle they would face when they finally met the Imperial Order, then the mission to stop Jagang's army was suicide.

«Prelate?» Berdine said as she pushed closed the door with a snake carved on it.

Verna paused and waited as the woman tapped the palm of her hand on the top of the bronze skull door handle.

«What is it, Berdine?»

«I think I should stay here.»

«Stay?» Verna met the Mord-Sith's gaze. «But why?»

«If Ann finds Lord Rahl and takes him to the army, he will have you and a number of other Mord-Sith who are there to protect him-and he will be where you say he needs to be. But maybe she won't find him.»

«She must. Richard is also aware of the weight of prophecy and he knows that he must be there at the final battle. Even if Ann doesn't find him, I have faith that he will come to join us.»

Berdine shrugged with the difficulty of trying to find the right words. «Maybe. But maybe not. Verna, I've spent a lot of time with him. He doesn't think like that. Prophecy doesn't mean as much to him as it does to you.»

Verna heaved a sigh. «You said a mouthful, Berdine.»

«This is Lord Rahl's home, even if he never really lived here except as a captive. Even so, he has come to care about us as his people, and his friends. I've spent time with him; I know how much he cares about us and I know that he is aware of how much we all care about him. Maybe he will feel a need to come home.

«If he does, I think I should be here for him. He depends on me to help him with books, with translations-at least, I like to believe he does. He makes me feel important to him, anyway. I don't know, I just think I should remain at the palace in case he comes here. If he does, he will need to know that you are desperately trying to find him. He will need to know of the impending final battle.»

«Does your bond tell you where he is?»

Berdine gestured west. «Somewhere in that direction, but very distant.»

«The general said the same thing. That can only mean that Richard is at least in the New World again.» Verna found reason to smile. «At long last. That much is good to know.»

«The closer those with the bond are to him, the better able they will be to help you find him.»

Verna considered it a moment. «Well, I will miss your company, Berdine, but I guess you must do as you see fit and I have to admit that what you say does make some sense. The more places we watch for him lo show up, the better our chances of finding him in time.»

«I really think it's right for me to stay here. Besides, I want to study some of the books and try to match up some of what Kolo says. There are a few things bothering me. Maybe if I work it out, I can even help Lord Rahl to win that final battle.»

Verna nodded with a sad smile. «See me out?»

«Of course.»

Both turned to the sound of footsteps. It was another Mord-Sith, in red leather. She was blond, and taller than Berdine. Her piercing blue eyes took Verna in with the kind of measured calculation that betrayed utter, fearless confidence.

«Nyda!» Berdine called.

The woman smiled with one side of her mouth as she came to a hall. She placed a hand on Berdine's shoulder, a gesture that Verna recognized as being as close to wild jubilation as it got among Mord-Sith, except perhaps for Berdine.

Nyda gazed down at Berdine, her eyes drinking her in. «Sister Berdine, it has been a while. D'Hara has been lonely without you. Welcome home.»

«It's good to be home and see your face again.»

Nyda's gaze slid to Verna. Berdine seemed to remember herself.

«Sister Nyda, this is Verna, the Prelate of the Sisters of the Light. She is a friend and advisor to Lord Rahl.»

«He is on his way here?»

«No, unfortunately,» Berdine said.

«Are you two sisters, then?» Verna asked.

«No,» Berdine said, waving a hand at the notion. «It's more like you calling the other women of your kind 'Sister.' Nyda is an old friend.»

Nyda glanced around. «Where is Raina?»

Berdine's face went white at the unexpected encounter with the name. Her voice fell to a whisper. «Raina died.»

Nyda's face was unreadable. «I didn't know, Berdine. Did she die well, with her Agiel in her hand?»

Berdine swallowed as she stared at the floor. «She died of the plague. She fought it until her final breath — but in the end it took her. She died in Lord Rahl's arms.»

Verna thought that she could detect that Nyda's blue eyes were just a little more liquid as she gazed at her sister Mord-Sith.

«I'm so sorry, Berdine.»

Berdine looked up. «Lord Rahl wept as she died.»

By the silent but astonished look on Nyda's face, Verna could see that it was unheard of for the Lord Rahl to care if a Mord-Sith lived or died. By the look of wonder that surfaced, such reverence for one of them was homage of profound proportions.

«I have heard such tales about this Lord Rahl. They are really true, then?»

Berdine smiled radiantly. «They are true.»

CHAPTER 32

«What are you reading that's so absorbing?» Rikka asked as she used a shoulder to push the thick door closed.

Zedd grunted with displeasure before glancing up from the book lying open before him. «Blank pages.»

Through the round window to his left, he could see the roofs of the city of Aydindril spread out far below. In the golden light of the setting sun the city looked beautiful, but that appearance was but an illusion. With all the people gone, fleeing for their lives before the hordes of invaders, the city was no more than an empty, lifeless husk, like the shed skin of the cicadas that had recently emerged.

Rikka leaned toward him over the magnificent, polished desk and tilted her head to see better as she peered down at the book. «It's not all blank,» she announced. «You can't read something that is blank. You therefore must be reading the writing, not the blank places. You should try to be more accurate in what you say, if not more honest.»

Zedd's frown darkened as his gaze rose to meet hers. «Sometimes what isn't said is more meaningful than what is said. Did you ever think about that?»

«Are you asking me to keep quiet?» She set down a large wooden bowl containing his dinner. The steam drifting up carried the aroma of onions, garlic, vegetables and succulent meat. It smelled distractingly delicious.

«No. Demanding it.»

Through the round window to his right, Zedd could see the dark walls of the Keep soaring high up overhead. Built into the side of the mountain that overlooked Aydindril, the Wizard's Keep was nearly a mountain itself. Like the city, it too was empty-with the exception of Rikka, Chase, Rachel, and himself. It wouldn't be long, though, before there would be more people in the Keep. At last the Keep would once again have a family living in it. The empty halls would again ring with laughter and love as they once had when countless people called the Keep home.

Rikka contented herself with gazing around at the shelves in the round turret room. They were tilled with jars and jugs in a variety of shapes, and delicately colored glass vessels, some filled with ingredients for spells, and, in one case, polish for the desk, the ornately carved straight-backed oak chair, the low chest beside his chair, and the bookcases. Books in a variety of languages filled most of the space on the shelves. The corner cases with glassed doors held more of the tomes.

Rikka folded her arms as she leaned close and studied some of the gilded spines. «Have you actually read all these books?»

«Of course,» Zedd muttered. «Many times.»

«It must be boring being a wizard,» she said. «You have to do too much reading and thinking. It's easier to get answers by making people bleed.»

Zedd harrumphed. «When a person is in agony they may be eager to talk, but they tend to tell you what they think you want to hear, whether it's true or not.»

She pulled out a volume and thumbed through it before replacing it on the shelf. «That is why we are trained to question people by using the proper methods. We show them how very much more painful it is for them when they lie to us. If they understand the profoundly terrible consequences of lying, people will tell the truth.»

Zedd wasn't really listening to her. He was concentrating on trying to figure out what the fragment of prophecy could mean. Every single possibility he came up with only served to further ruin his appetite. The steaming bowl sat waiting. He realized that she was probably hanging around, waiting for him to comment on dinner. Maybe she was waiting for a compliment.

«So, what's to eat?»

«Stew.»

Zedd stretched his neck a bit to glance in the wooden bowl. «Where's the biscuits?»

«No biscuits. Stew.»

«I know, stew. I can see that it's stew. What I mean is where are the biscuits to go with the stew?»

Rikka shrugged. «I can get you some fresh bread if you'd like.»

«It's stew,» he exclaimed with a scowl. «Stew calls for real biscuits, not bread.»

«If I had known you wanted biscuits for dinner I could have made you biscuits rather than the stew. You should have said something earlier.»

«I don't want biscuits instead of stew,» Zedd growled.

«You change your mind a lot when you're grumpy, don't you?»

Zedd squinted at her with one eye. «You really are talented at torture.»

She smiled, turned on a heel, and strode regally out of the small room. Zedd thought that Mord-Sith must strut even when they were alone.

He went back to the book, trying to come at the problem from a different angle. He had only had time to read the passage again a couple of times when the latch on the door lifted and Rachel shuffled into the room carrying something in both hands. She used her foot to push the door closed «Zedd, you should put your book away, now, and have some supper.»

Zedd smiled at the child. She always made him smile. She was infectious that way.

«What have you got there, Rachel?»

She reached up and set the tin bowl on the desk, then stretched her arm out as she pushed it across the desk toward him.

«Biscuits.»

Flabbergasted, Zedd rose up a little from his chair to lean over and look in the tin bowl.

«What are you doing with biscuits?»

Rachel's big eyes blinked at him as if it were the strangest question she had ever heard. «They're for your supper. Rikka asked me to carry them for her. She had her hands full with a bowl of stew for you and one for Chase.»

«You shouldn't help that woman,» Zedd said with a menacing scowl as he sat back down. «She's evil.»

Rachel giggled. «You're silly, Zedd. Rikka tells me stories about the stars. She makes pictures out of them and then tells a story about each picture.»

«Is that so. Well, sounds like a nice thing for her to do.»

With the light fading, it was getting hard to read. Zedd cast out a hand, sending a spark of his gift into the dozens of candles in the elaborate iron candelabrum. The warm light brightened the cozy little room, lighting the finely fit stone of the walls and the heavy oak beams across the ceiling.

Rachel grinned, her eyes glistening with both reflected points of candlelight and with wonder. She liked seeing him light candles. «You have the bestest magic, Zedd.»

Zedd sighed. «I wish you weren't leaving me, little one. Rikka doesn't appreciate my candle-lighting trick.»

«You will miss me?»

«No, not really. I just don't want to be left alone with Rikka,» he said as he read the last bit again.

They will at first contest him before they plot to heal him. What could that mean?