The Pillars of Creation (60 page)

“I see you have found my queen,” the nightmare man said.

“What?” Sebastian asked.

“My queen,” the man said, still with that terrible grin. “I am King Oba Rahl. She shall be my queen.”

Jennsen recognized, then, that there was a small resemblance in the eyes to Nathan Rahl, to Richard, to her. He didn’t have the strong likeness that Jennsen saw of herself in Richard’s eyes, but she saw enough to know that he was telling the truth—he, too, was the son of Darken Rahl.

“Here he comes,” he said, turning, holding out an introductory arm, “my brother, the old Lord Rahl.”

Richard strode out of the shadows.

“Don’t be afraid, Jenn,” Sebastian whispered in her ear, “he can’t hurt you. You can get him, now.”

Now was her chance; she would not again waste it.

Off to the side, through the thicket of columns, she caught glimpses of a wagon rolling up. She thought she recognized the horses—both gray with black manes and tails. They were horses as big as any she’d ever seen. From the corner of her eye, she saw that the driver was big and blond-headed.

Jennsen turned, staring in disbelief at the wagon when she heard Betty’s familiar bleat. The goat stood and put its front hooves up on the seat beside the driver. The big blond man gave her ears a quick affectionate rub. It looked like Tom.

“Jennsen,” Richard said, “step away from Kahlan.”

“Don’t do it, sis!” Oba yelled. He roared with laughter.

Knife in hand, Jennsen backed closer to the unconscious woman hanging from the pillar rising up behind. Richard would try to come through her to get at Kahlan; then Jennsen would have him.

“Jennsen,” Richard said, “why would you side with a Sister of the Dark?”

She shot a brief puzzled frown at Sister Perdita. “Sister of the Light,” she corrected.

Richard slowly shook his head as his gaze went beyond to Sister Perdita. “No. She is a Sister of the Dark. Jagang has Sisters of the Light, but he also has the others as well. They are both slaves to the dream walker; that’s why they have that ring through their lower lip.”

Jennsen had heard that name before—dream walker. She frantically tried to remember where. She recalled, too, what the Sisters had invoked that night in the woods. Everything was tumbling through her mind in a frantic rush. It wasn’t helping that the voice was there, incessantly urging her on. She was screaming inside with the need to kill this man, but something was keeping her from moving. She knew it couldn’t be his magic.

“You will have to come through Jennsen if you want to save Kahlan,” Sister Perdita said in her cool, disdainful voice. “You have run out of time, and options, Lord Rahl. You had better at least save your wife, before her time is up, as well.”

Off in the distance to the side, Jennsen caught sight of the brown goat bounding through the forest of stone, outpacing Tom by a wide margin.

“Betty?” Jennsen whispered through choking tears as she unwrapped the black veil from her head so the goat would recognize her.

The goat bleated at the sound of her name, her little upright tail wagging in a blur as she ran. Something else, smaller, was coming from behind, back by Tom. Before the goat could reach her, it reached Oba. Spotting him as it came around the pillar, Betty let out a plaintive cry and sidestepped away. Jennsen knew well Betty’s cry of distress and terror, her plea for help and comfort.

Overhead, the sky went wild with lightning and thunder, further frightening the poor animal.

“Betty?” Jennsen called, hardly able to believe what she was seeing, wondering if it could be an illusion, some cruel deception. But Lord Rahl’s magic couldn’t do that to her.

At the sound of her voice, the goat bounded toward Jennsen, her beloved lifelong friend. Not a dozen strides away, Betty looked up at Jennsen and froze in her tracks. The wagging tail stopped dead. Betty bleated in distress. The bleats turned to terror at what she was seeing.

“Betty,” Jennsen cried, “its all right. Come—it’s me.”

Trembling in fear as it gazed up at her, Betty backed away. The goat was reacting the same way it had to Oba, just now, and the same way it had that first night she saw him.

Betty turned and ran.

Right for Richard.

He crouched down as the goat, clearly in distress, came running, seeking comfort, and found it under a sheltering hand.

Stunned, Jennsen then heard other little bleats. Small little twin white goats came capering into the midst of all the people, into the middle of a deadly confrontation. They spooked at the sight of the man, turned, and at the sight of Jennsen, shrank back, crying out for their mother.

Betty bleated, calling to them. They spun and raced for her protection. With their mother there, they felt safe, and jumped up on Richard, eager for the reassuring touch their mother was getting.

Tom had stopped well back, waiting near a pillar as he watched, obviously intending to stay clear.

Jennsen thought that, surely, the world must have gone mad.

“Betty, what are you doing?” Jennsen asked, unable to reconcile in her mind what was happening.

“Magic,” Sister Perdita whispered from behind, in answer to Jennsen’s puzzled tone. “It’s his doing.”

Could it be that Richard Rahl had bewitched even her goat—turned it against her?

Richard took a step toward her. Betty and her twins romped around his legs, having no conception of the life-and-death events taking place before them.

“Jennsen, use your head,” Richard said. “Think for yourself. You have to help me, now. Step away from Kahlan.”

“Kill him!” Sebastian whispered with vicious determination. “Do it, Jenn! Magic can’t hurt you! Do it!”

Jennsen lifted her knife as Richard calmly watched her. She felt herself stepping toward him. When she killed him, then his magic would die, too, and Betty would know her once again.

Jennsen froze. Something was wrong. She turned to Sebastian.

“How do you know? How do you know that? I never told you that magic can’t harm me.”

“You too?” Oba called. He’d come closer. “We’re both invincible, then! We can rule D’Hara together—but I’ll be the king, of course. King Oba Rahl. I’m not greedy, though. You could be a princess, maybe. Yes, I could let you be a princess, if you’re good.”

Jennsen’s eyes turned back toward Sebastian’s surprised face. “How do you know?”

“Jenn—I just—I thought,” he stammered, trying to find an answer.

“Richard…” It was Kahlan, waking, but groggy. “Richard, where are we?” She winced in pain, and cried out, even though no one touched her.

When Richard took a step toward her, Jennsen stepped back before her, brandishing her knife.

“If you want her, you must come through Jennsen,” Sister Perdita said.

Richard watched her without emotion for a long moment. “No.”

“You must!” the Sister growled. “You will have to kill Jennsen, or Kahlan will die!”

“Are you crazy!” Sebastian yelled at the Sister.

“Get ahold of yourself, Sebastian,” the Sister snapped. “Salvation comes only through sacrifice. All of mankind is corrupt. One individual is unimportant—one life is meaningless. It matters not what happens to her—only her sacrifice matters.”

Sebastian stared at her, unable to answer, unable to find a reason to argue for Jennsen’s life.

“You’ll have to kill Jennsen!” Sister Perdita shrieked as she turned back to Richard. “Or I will kill Kahlan!”

“Richard…” Kahlan moaned, clearly not understanding where she was or what was happening.

“Kahlan,” Richard said in a calm voice, “stay still.”

“Last chance!” Sister Perdita screamed. “Last chance to save the Mother Confessor’s precious life! Last chance before the Keeper has her! Stop him, Jennsen, while I kill his wife!”

Jennsen was staggered that the Sister would be encouraging him to kill her. It made no sense. It was Lord Rahl that the Sister wanted dead. It was Lord Rahl they all wanted dead.

Jennsen knew she had to end it. She couldn’t be hurt by his magic. How Sebastian knew that, she couldn’t fathom, but she had to end it, now, while she had the chance. Why the Sister was doing this, though, was a mystery.

Unless Sister Perdita was trying to anger Richard so that he would lash out with his magic, strike with his power at Jennsen, thus giving her the opening she finally needed.

That had to be it. Jennsen dared not wait.

Unleashing a cry of fury filled with a lifetime of hate, filled with the burning agony of her mother’s murder, filled with the howling rage of the voice in her head, Jennsen launched herself at Richard.

She knew he would hurl his magic at her in order to save himself, unleash magic at her as he had unleashed it at the thousand men. He would be shocked that it didn’t work, shocked as she burst through his deadly conjuring at the last instant to suddenly plunge her knife through his evil heart. He would know too late that she was invincible.

Screaming her rage, Jennsen flew at him.

She expected a horrific blast, expected to fly through the lightning, thunder, smoke, but it never came. He caught her wrist in his fist. Simple as that. He used no magic. He cast no spell. He invoked no wizardly power.

Jennsen had no immunity to muscle, and he had plenty of that.

“Calm down,” Richard said.

She fought him furiously, an angry storm throwing all her hate and pain into her onslaught. He securely held her knife-wielding fist as she raged, her other fist pounding against his chest. He could have snapped her in two with his bare hands, but he instead let her scream and strike out at him, then let her yank herself back away to stand in the center of everyone, panting, knife held up, tears of anger and hate streaming down her cheeks.

“Kill her or Kahlan dies!” Sister Perdita shrieked again.

Sebastian shoved the Sister back. “Have you lost your mind! She can do it! He isn’t even armed!”

Richard pulled a small book from one of the pouches at his belt and held it up.

“Oh, but I am.”

“What do you mean?” Jennsen asked.

His raptor gaze settled on her. “This is an ancient text titled
The Pillars of Creation
. It was written by some of our ancestors, Jennsen—those among the first to be Lord Rahl, among the first who came to understand the full extent of what had been engendered by the first of the line, Alric Rahl, who created the bond, among other things. It’s very interesting reading.”

“I suppose it says that as Lord Rahl you should kill those like me,” Jennsen said.

Richard smiled. “You’re right. It does.”

“What?” She could hardly believe that he would admit it. “It really says that?”

He nodded. “It explains why all the truly ungifted offspring of the Lord Rahl—the Lord Rahl who carries down the gift of the bond to his people—must be killed.”

“I knew it!” Jennsen cried. “You tried to lie! But it’s true! It’s all right there!”

“I didn’t say that I would take the advice. I only said that the
book
says that your kind are to be killed.”

“Why?” Jennsen asked.

“Jenn, it doesn’t matter,” Sebastian whispered. “Don’t listen to him.”

Richard gestured to Sebastian. “He knows why. That’s why he knew you couldn’t be harmed by my magic. He knew because he knows what’s in the book.”

Jennsen spun to Sebastian, her eyes wide with sudden understanding. “Emperor Jagang has that book.”

“Jenn, you’re just talking nonsense, now.”

“I saw it, Sebastian.
The Pillars of Creation
. I saw it in his tent. It’s an ancient book, in his old tongue. It’s one of his prized books. He knew what it says. You are one of his prized strategists. He told you. You knew all along what it said.”

“Jenn…I—”

“It was you,” she whispered.

“How can you doubt me? I love you.”

Then, over the terrible tumult of the voice, the whole thing began unravelling in her mind. The crushing pain of it all came crashing in on her. The true dimensions of the betrayal became horrifyingly clear.

“Dear spirits, it was you all along.”

Sebastian, his face going nearly as white as his white spikes of hair, turned deadly calm. “Jenn, that doesn’t change anything.”

“It was you,” she whispered, wide-eyed. “You took a single mountain fever rose—”

“What! I don’t even have any such thing.”

“I saw them in a tin in your pack. There was twine on top of them, hiding them. They spilled out.”

“Oh, those. I—I got them from the healer—the one we visited.”

“Liar! You had them all along. You took one to give yourself a fever.”

“Jenn, now you’re just acting crazy.”

Trembling, Jennsen pointed at him with her knife. “It was you, all along. That first night, you told me, ‘Where I come from, we believe in using what is closest to an enemy, or what comes from him, as a weapon against him.’ You wanted me to have this knife. You wanted me because I was closest to your enemy. You wanted to use me. How did you get it on that soldier?”

“Jenn—”

“You claim to love me. Prove it! Don’t lie to me! Tell me the truth!”

Sebastian stared a moment before finally holding his head up and answering. “I only wanted to gain your trust. I thought that if I had a fever you would take me in.”

“And the dead soldier I found?”

“He was one of my men. We captured the man who carried that knife. I gave it to one of my men, had him dress in a D’Haran uniform, then, after we saw you pass below, I pushed him over the cliff.”

“You killed your own man?”

“Sacrifice for the greater cause is sometimes necessary. Salvation comes through sacrifice,” he added in defiant defense.

“How did you know where I was?”

“Emperor Jagang is a dream walker. He learned about your kind through the book years ago. He used his ability to search for any who might know of your existence. Over time, he put together evidence in order to track you down.”

“And the note I found?”

“I planted it on him. Jagang found out through his ability that you once used that name.”

“The bond prevents the dream walker from entering a person’s mind,” Richard said. “He must have searched for a long time, looking for those who aren’t bonded to the Lord Rahl.”

Sebastian nodded with satisfaction. “That’s right. And we succeeded, too.”

Jennsen, burning with blinding anger, with the agony of such monumental betrayal, swallowed. “And the rest? My…mother? Was that one of your necessary sacrifices, too?”

Sebastian licked his lips. “Jenn, you don’t understand. I didn’t really know you then—”

“They were your own men. That’s why it was so easy for you to kill them. They weren’t expecting you to attack them—they thought you were there to fight alongside them. And that’s why you were confused when I told you about the quads, about how many more men I thought there were. They weren’t really quads. You had to kill some innocent people along the way in order to make me think it was the other member of a quad. All those times you went out at night to scout and came back saying they were right behind us, and we kept running through the night—you made it all up.”

“To a good cause,” Sebastian said, quietly.

Jennsen gasped in her tears, her fury. “A good cause! You killed my mother! It was you all along! Dear spirits…to think that I…oh, dear spirits, I slept with my mother’s murderer. You filthy—”

“Jenn, get ahold of yourself. It was necessary.” He pointed at Richard. “This is the cause of it all! We have him now! This was all necessary! Salvation only comes through selfless sacrifice. Your sacrifice—your mother’s sacrifice—has captured us Richard Rahl, the man who has hunted you your whole life.”

Tears of rage poured down her face. “I can’t believe you could have done such things to me and claimed to love me.”

“But I do, Jenn. I didn’t know you, then. I told you—I never intended to fall in love with you, but I did. It just happened. You are my life, now. I love you, now.”

She pressed her hands to the voice screaming in her head. “You are evil! I could never love you!”

“Brother Narev teaches that all of mankind is evil. We can have no moral existence because mankind is a taint on the world of life. At least Brother Narev is at last in a better place. He’s with the Creator, now.”

“You mean to say that even Brother Narev is evil, then? Because he is part of mankind? Even your precious, sacred Brother Narev was evil?”

Sebastian glared at her. “The one who is truly evil is standing right there”—he pointed—“Richard Rahl, for killing a great man. Richard Rahl must be put to death for his crimes.”

“If mankind is evil, and if Brother Narev is in a better place—with the Creator—then Richard has done a kindness by killing Brother Narev, by sending him into the Creator’s arms, hasn’t he? And if mankind is evil, then how could Richard Rahl be evil for killing men of the Order?”

Sebastian’s face had gone red. “We are all evil, but some are more evil than others! As least we have the humility before the Creator to recognize our own wickedness, and to glorify only the Creator.” He paused and cooled visibly. “I know it’s a sign of weakness, but I love you.” He gave her a smile. “You have become my only reason for being, Jenn.”

She could only stare at him. “You don’t love me, Sebastian. You don’t have any idea what love really is. You can’t love anyone or anything until you love your own existence, first. Love can only grow out of a respect for your own life. When you love yourself, your own existence, then you love someone who can enhance your existence, share it with you, and make it more pleasurable. When you hate yourself and believe your existence is evil, then you can only hate, you can only experience the shell of love, that longing for something good, but you have nothing to base it in but hatred. You taint the very concept of love, Sebastian, with your corrupted longing for it. You want me only to justify your hatred, to be your partner in self-loathing.

“To truly love someone, Sebastian, you must revel in their existence because they make life all the more wonderful. If you think existence is corrupt, then you are sealed off from the fruition of such a relationship, from what love really is.”

“You’re wrong! You just don’t understand!”

“I understand all too well. I only wish I had sooner.”

“But I do love you, Jenn. You’re wrong. I do love you!”

“You can only wish you did. They are the empty words of a barren shell of a man. There is nothing there for me to love—nothing worth loving. You are so empty of humanity that it’s even difficult for me to hate you, Sebastian, except in the sense of the way one would hate an open sewer.”

Lightning crashed down on the pillars all around. The voice in Jennsen’s head felt as if it would tear her apart.

“Jenn—you don’t mean any of that. You can’t. I can’t live without you.”

Jennsen turned her cold fury on him. “The only thing in the whole world that you could do that would please me, Sebastian, would be to die!”

“I’ve listened to this touching lovers’ spat long enough,” Sister Perdita growled. “Sebastian, be a man and shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you. Your life means just as little as anyone else’s. Richard, you have a choice. Jennsen or the Mother Confessor.”