Stone of Tears

“He feared that person might eventually find it, so he had me memorize it. All of it. He said I had to know every word, so that someday I could return the knowledge to the keeper of the book. He didn’t know that Zedd was the book’s keeper. It took me years to memorize every word of the book. He never looked in it, he said that was for only me to do. After I had learned it all perfectly, we burned the book. I’ll never forget that day. Light and sound and strange forms came forth as the book burned.”

“Magic,” she whispered, knowingly.

He nodded as he rested his wrist over his eyes again. “My father died keeping the book from Darken Rahl. He was a hero. He saved us all by his actions.”

Kahlan tried to think of how to put words to the things she was thinking, the things she knew. “Zedd told us the Book of Counted Shadows was kept in his keep. How did your father get it?”

“He never told me that.”

“Richard, I was born and raised in Aydindril. I spent a good portion of my life in the Wizard’s Keep. It’s a huge fortress. In times long ago, hundreds of wizards lived there. When I grew up, there were only the six, and none were wizards of the First Order.

“It is not an easy place to enter. I was able to because I’m a Confessor, and needed to learn from books kept there. All the Confessors had access to the keep. But it was protected, by magic, from any others entering.”

“If you’re asking, I don’t know how my father did it. He was a pretty smart man; he must have figured it out.”

“If the book was in the Keep itself, maybe. There were wizards and Confessors coming and going, and at times others were permitted to enter. Perhaps someone could have found a way to sneak in. Even once inside, there are areas protected more strongly by magic. Areas even I could not enter.

“But Zedd said the Book of Counted Shadows was an important book of magic, very important. He said he kept it in his keep: the wizard of the First Order’s keep. That is altogether different. It’s separate from the rest, part of the larger Keep, but set off by itself.

“I’ve walked the long ramparts to the First Wizard’s Keep. There is a beautiful view of Aydindril from there. Just walking the ramparts, I could feel the awesome power of the spells that protect that place. It made your skin crawl. If you went close enough, the power of the protection spells made the hair lift off your shoulders and stick out in all directions, popping and snapping with little sparks. If you went closer still, the spells filled you with a sensation of dread so strong you couldn’t force your feet to take another step, or your lungs to draw another breath.

“Since Zedd left the Midlands, before we were born, none had entered the First Wizard’s Keep. The other wizards tried. To enter, there is a plate you must touch. It is said touching the plate is like touching the frozen heart of the Keeper himself. If the magic doesn’t recognize you as one permitted entry, you cannot gain entrance. Touching the plate without at least the protection of your own magic, or even just getting close enough to the spells themselves, can be death.

“Since I was young, and first went to the Keep to learn from the books, the wizards had been trying to get in. They wanted to know what was inside. The First Wizard was gone, and they thought they should take an inventory, thought they should at least know what was in there.

“They never succeeded. Not one of them was ever able to so much as place a hand to the plate. Richard, if five wizards of the Third Order, and one of the Second, could not get in, how did your father?”

He sighed. “I wish I had an answer for you, Kahlan, but I don’t.”

She didn’t want to dash his hopes, give irrefutable life to his fears, but she had to. The truth was the truth. He had to know that truth about himself.

“Richard, the Book of Counted Shadows was a book of instruction for magic. It was magic.”

“I have no doubt of that. I know what I saw when we burned it.”

She stroked the back of his hand with her finger. There were other books of instruction for magic in the Keep: less important ones. The wizards let me look at them. When I would read them, I would get to a place in the books, and a strange thing would happen, sometimes after only a few words, sometimes after a few pages: I would forget what I had just read. I couldn’t remember a word of it. Not a single word. I would go back and read it again, and the same thing would happen.