Stone of Tears

Lightning flared up from the sparkling white sand, flicking about the Garden of Life. The room thundered with a riot of noise and blinding light. The sorcerer’s sand melted into a liquid pool of blue fire. The air shuddered with violent concussions.

Darken Rahl shook his fists to the sky. “No!”

His head came down, and when he saw Richard coming slowly toward him, the Stone of Tears held out in his fist, he went still. His hand came up in forbidding.

Richard staggered to a stop, the pain of the scar on his chest taking his breath. The agony seared through him. From deep within, he pulled resolve and made himself move despite the torment. Each step only increased the pain. It felt as if his flesh were burning off his bones and the marrow itself were boiling. In the calm at the center of the storm of anger, he was able to ignore it.

Richard pulled the Stone of Tears off over his head. He held the leather thong out in his hands, the Stone dangling before Darken Rahl’s face. Rahl shrank back.

“You will wear this in the depths of death. Forever.” Richard stepped closer. “Kneel.”

The glowing form sank to its knees. The glowing eyes stayed on the Stone in the air above. Richard lowered the leather thong, to hang it over the head of his father’s spirit. He paused.

Over Darken Rahl’s head, behind him, he saw the altar that held the boxes. The open one in the center, alive with things beyond knowing, was sending its green light upward in a beacon.

Richard remembered what Ann, Nathan, and Warren had told him. If he used the Stone for selfish reasons, for hate, it would tear the veil. He wanted more than anything to send” Darken Rahl to the depths of the underworld, to punish him forever for what he had done. But that would only accomplish what he had already decided was beyond price.

Besides, he had brought this on himself. That he had not done it intentionally made no difference. Life was not fair, it simply existed. If you accidentally stepped on a poison snake, you got bitten. Intentions were irrelevant.

“I have caused my own grief,” Richard whispered. “I must suffer the consequences of my own actions. I cannot make others pay for what I have caused, intentionally or not.”

Richard hung the Stone of Tears back around his own neck. Darken Rahl came to his feet in alarm.

“Richard… you don’t know what you’re saying. Punish me. Hang the stone around my neck. Have your vengeance!”

Richard turned partway toward the center of the Garden of Life and held out his hand. The round skrin bone, in the pool of blue fire, hurtled to his palm. His magic protected him.

He held the skrin bone up high. In the grip of rage, in the grip of calm, he called the power onward. It erupted from his fist.

Lightning, yellow and hot, shot forth into Darken Rahl.

Lightning, black and cold, shot forth into Darken Rahl.

They twisted together in the unleashed wrath of the skrin.

A ripple of total darkness swept across the room, and when it lifted, the lightning, and Darken Rahl, were gone. The skrin bone felt cool in his fist.

The green light from the box glowed brighter, making the room hum. Richard pulled the Stone of Tears from his neck. The leather thong fell away as the Stone turned to black in his palm.

Richard thrust out his hand. The Stone of Tears flew to the green light, floating in it a moment, rotating in the beam. The green light faded as the Stone of Tears sank toward the box, becoming transparent, until it passed from existence. The beacon of green light vanished, plunging the Garden of Life into silence.

Richard held the skrin bone out in his fist, and once again the twin lightning erupted, thundering across the distance. Flashes of white-hot light and ice-cold blackness washed over him. When it ended, and silence rang in his ears once more, the three boxes sat on the altar.

Each was closed.

Richard knew they could not be opened again without the book, and the book existed only in his head. The boxes of Orden, and the gateway they represented, would remain closed for all time.

Richard heard a metallic snap. He felt something brush at his neck, felt something fall at his feet.

He looked down to see the collar, the Rada’Han, on the ground. It was off his neck. He was free of it.

The pain, too, was gone. He felt his chest. The scar was gone.

In the silence, Richard stood dazed. He wasn’t sure what had just happened. He didn’t know how he had done it.

It was over.

For him, everything was over.

Kahlan was going to die this day.

And then he was running. The day wasn’t over yet.

As he emerged from the doors of the Garden of Life, the five Mord-Sith surrounded him. He ignored them as he ran. In the corridor beyond, a sweaty, dirty General Trimack waited with hundreds of men just as grimy-looking. Many were bloody.