Stone of Tears

Sister Verna shrugged. “I have heard tell that a few times throughout the ages it has been accomplished. In my life I have seen ships leave to attempt it, but I have never seen one return.”

Richard glanced back over his shoulder, but saw nothing. “Could… someone follow you through?”

“One or two, if they stayed close enough, as you must. Greater numbers would surely be lost. The pockets between spells are not large enough to allow many to follow.”

Richard thought in silence, at last asking, “Why hasn’t anyone destroyed the towers, so the spells could dissipate?”

“We’ve tried. It cannot be done.”

“Just because you haven’t found a way, Sister, that doesn’t mean it can’t be done.”

She gave him a sharp look. “The towers, and the spells, were created with the aid of not only Additive but also Sub-tractive Magic.”

Subtractive Magic! How could the wizards of old have learned to use Subtractive Magic? Wizards didn’t have command of Subtractive Magic. But then, Darken Rahl did. Richard gentled his tone. “How can the towers keep the spells from dissipating?”

Sister Verna worked her thumbs on the reins. “Each tower has a wizard’s life force in it.”

Despite the heat, Richard felt a chill. “You mean to say that a wizard gave his life force into the towers?”

“Worse. Each tower contains the life force of many wizards.”

Richard stared in numb shock at the thought of wizards giving up their lives to invest the towers with their life force. “How close are the towers?”

“It is said some are miles apart, some only yards. They are spaced according to the fabric of lines of power within the earth itself. We don’t understand the sense of this alignment. Since entering the line to find them would be death, we don’t even know how many towers there are. We know of only the few in this valley.”

Richard squirmed in his saddle. “Will we see any of the towers when we cross?”

There’s no way to tell. The gaps shift constantly. Occasionally, on the way through, the openings take you close to a tower. I saw one on my first journey through. Some Sisters never saw one. I hope never to see another.”

Richard realized he was gripping the hilt of his sword with his left hand. The raised letters of the word TRUTH bit into his flesh. He relaxed his hand, releasing the hilt.

“So, what can we expect to see?”

Sister Verna broke her gaze into the distance and redirected it to him. “There are spells of every sort. Some are spells of despair. To be snared in one is to have your soul wander in despair for all time. Some are spells of joy and delight, in which one is lost in enchantment for all time. Some are pure destruction, and will tear you apart. Some will show you things you fear, to make you run into the clutches of things that lurk behind. Some tempt with things you hope for. If you give in to the desire…” She leaned closer to him. “You must stay close to me, keep going. You must ignore any desire you have, both fear and longing, to do otherwise. Do you understand?”

Richard finally nodded. Sister Verna returned her gaze to the shimmering forms. She sat motionless, watching. In the distance, beyond the wavering light, he thought he saw thun-derheads, dark and ominous, drifting across the horizon. He felt more than heard their thunder. Somehow, he knew it wasn’t clouds, but magic. When Bonnie tossed her head, Richard gave her a reassuring pat on her neck.

After watching awhile, he looked over to the Sister. She sat still and tense.

“What are you waiting for, Sister? Courage?”

She answered without moving. “Exactly. I am waiting for courage, child.”

He felt no anger this time at her calling him “child,” but rather that it might be an appropriate characterization, as far as his abilities were concerned.

In a whisper, and still without looking away from the sunbaked inferno ahead, she went on. “You were still in swaddling clothes when I came through, but I remember every detail as if it happened yesterday. Yes, I am waiting for courage.”

He gave Bonnie a squeeze with his legs, urging her ahead. “The sooner we start, the sooner we’re through.”

“Or lost.” She walked her horse after him. “so anxious to be lost, Richard?”

“I’m already lost, Sister.”

Chapter 29