The pillars of creation

"We best catch up with Sister Perdita," he said as he watched the woman vanish over the rim of the trail down into the wavering landscape of the Pillars of Creation. "She'll protect you from Richard Rahl's magic and help you do what you need to do."

Jennsen wanted to say that she didn't need Sister Perdita's protection, that Lord Rahl's magic couldn't hurt her, but it was not the time to go into the whole subject with him, to explain the whole thing to him. Somehow, it never seemed the time. It didn't really matter, anyway, what Sebastian believed about how she could get close to Richard Rahl, it only mattered that she did.

Together, the two of them stood in the sweltering sun, watching the tiny speck racing across the endless flat landscape. In the withering heat, the distant ground undulated like the rippling surface of a faraway lake. A thin plume of dust rose behind the lone rider. Their escort of a thousand men restlessly checked their weapons.

"Is it one of your men?" Sebastian asked the wiry leader of the blackrobed figures.

"The ground here plays tricks with your eyes," he said. "He is still far off; the heat only makes him look closer. It will be some time before the rider reaches us and we can tell who it is." He smiled at Jennsen, gesturing encouragement. "Put the clothing on, and you will be covered from the sun.»

Rather than argue, Jennsen threw the gauzy, capelike garment around her shoulders. She wrapped the long scarf over and around her head, as she had seen the men doing, pulling it across her nose and mouth and then tucking the tail under the side. She was immediately surprised at how the black cloth cut the hot glare of the sun. It felt a relief, almost like standing in shade.

The man's eyes smiled at seeing the look on her face. "Good, yes?" he asked through his own thin black mask.

"Yes," Jennsen said. "Thank you for your help. But we must pay you for these things you gave us."

With a twinkle in his eye, he said, "You already have."

The man turned to Sebastian, still pulling his black scarf over his head. "I have told you all I can, all we know. My men and I go, now."

Before Sebastian could answer, the man was already hurrying across the parched ground toward the dark knot of men waiting with their dusty mules. The men started away, pulling their mules after on lead lines, eager to be away from the soldiers.

They were headed south, in the opposite direction of the approaching rider.

"If it might be one of their men," Sebastian said, almost to himself, "then why are they leaving?"

He looked impatiently to the small trail where Sister Perdita had disappeared, and then signaled to his column of men still waiting on horseback. The grim-looking force of men advanced across the hard ground, raising a lazy fog of dust.

"We have to go down there," Sebastian said as he gestured toward the valley that held the Pillars of Creation. "Wait up here until we get back."

The officer at the head of the column folded his wrists across the horn of his saddle. "What do you want us to do about that?" he asked. His greasy strings of hair fell forward over his shoulder as he pointed with his chin toward the yet distant rider.

Sebastian turned and watched the far-off horse galloping toward them. "If he turns out to be suspicious for any reason at all, kill him. This is too important to risk trouble, now."

The officer gave Sebastian a single nod. Jennsen could see in the hungry eyes and humorless grins of the men behind him that they were pleased by the orders.

"Let's go," Sebastian said. "I want to catch up with Sister Perdita before she gets too far ahead of us."

"Don't worry," Jennsen said, "I want Lord Rahl more than Sister Perdita does."

CHAPTER 58

The heat had been withering up on the barren plain, but venturing down the trail felt like descending into a blast furnace. Every breath drew the torrid air into her lungs, making Jennsen feel as if she were being cooked from the inside, too. The air rising before the steep walls wavered like heat shimmering above a fire.

There were places where the trail simply vanished crossing loose rock, or perhaps went under it. In other places, a depression had been worn into the soft sandstone to show the way. In some places, the track went along natural pathways, so it was largely self-evident, with little choice to make a mistake. Occasionally, they had to cross slides of scree that had buried any trace of a trail, and hope they could pick it up farther along. Jermsen knew enough about trails to know that this one was ancient and unused.