Stone of Tears

“I saw him in an hourglass. He was on his knees in the bottom half, crying in anguish, the sand falling all around him, but not a grain touching him. The gravestones of all those he loved were in the top half, where he couldn’t reach them against the fall of the sand.

“I saw a knife at his heart, a killing knife, held in his own shaking hands. Before I could see what would happen, another vision came—they are not always in order of events. He was in his fine red coat, the one with gold buttons and brocade trim. He was facedown… a knife in his back. He was dead, but at the same time, he wasn’t. His own hands reached down to roll him over, but before I saw his dead face, another vision came.

“It was the worst. The strongest.” The tears welled up again, and she began to sob softly. Zedd squeezed her shoulder to encourage her to go on. “I saw his flesh burning.” She wiped at the tears and rocked back and forth a little as she cried. “He was screaming. I could even smell the burning skin. Then, whatever was burning him—I couldn’t tell what it was—when it pulled back, he was unconscious, and there was a mark upon him. A mark burned into him.”

Zedd worked his tongue in his mouth, trying to wet it. “Could you see what the mark was?”

“No, not what it looked like. But I knew what it was as surely as I know the sun when I see it. It was the mark of the dead, a mark of the Keeper of the underworld. The Keeper had marked him to be his own.”

Zedd worked to steady his breathing, his trembling hands. “Were there more visions?”

“Yes, but not as strong and I didn’t understand them. They rushed by so fast I couldn’t grasp their form, only their pain. Then he was gone.

“While the Mord-Sith were turned, watching him go, I ran back to my room and locked myself in. I lay on the bed for hours, crying uncontrollably with the hurt of what I had seen. The Lady Ordith banged at my door, wanting me, but I called to her that I was sick and she finally went away in a huff. I cried until my insides were jelly. I saw virtue in that man, and I wept in fear of the evil I saw snatching for him.

“Though the visions were all different, they were the same. They all had the same feel: danger. Danger presses in around that man as tightly as water presses around a fish.” She regained some of her composure as Zedd sat silently watching her. That is why I will not work for him. The good spirits protect me, I don’t want anything to do with the danger around that man. With the underworld.”

“Maybe you could help him, with your talent, help him to avoid the danger. That is what I was hoping anyway,” Zedd said in a quiet voice.

Jebra dabbed her cheeks dry with the back of her sleeve. “Not for all the duke’s gold and power would I want to be in Lord Rahl’s wake. I am no coward, but I am no heroine in a song, and no fool either. I did not wish my guts put back to have them ripped out again, and this time my soul with them.”

Zedd quietly watched her sniffling herself back under control, putting the frightening visions away. She took a deep breath and sighed. Her blue eyes finally looked to his.

“Richard is my grandson,” he said simply.

Her eyes winced shut. “Oh, good spirits forgive me.” Her hand covered her mouth for a long moment; then her eyes came open, her eyebrows wrinkled together in horror. “Zedd… I’m so sorry for telling you what I saw. Forgive me. Had I known, I never would have told you.” Her hands trembled. “Forgive me. Oh please, forgive me.”

The truth is the truth. I am not one who would shut a door in your face for seeing it. Jebra, I am a wizard; I already know of the danger he is in. That is why I asked you to help. The veil to the underworld is torn. That thing that ripped you open escaped into the world of the living through the tear. If the veil tears enough, the Keeper will escape. Richard has done things that the prophecies say mark him as maybe the only one able to close the tear.”

He lifted the purse of gold and slowly settled it in her lap, her eyes following it down. He withdrew his empty hand. Her gaze stayed on the purse as if it were a beast that might bite.

“Would it be very dangerous?” she asked at last in a weak voice.

Zedd smiled when her eyes came up. “No more dangerous than going for an afternoon stroll in a fortress palace.”

With a reflex jerk, her hand clutched her abdomen where the wound had been. Her eyes rose to look off down the wide, resplendent halls, as if seeking escape, or maybe fearing an attack. Without looking to him she spoke.

“My grandmother was a Seer, and my only guide. She told me once that the visions would bring me a lifetime of hurt, and there was nothing I would ever be able to do to stop them. She said that if ever I was presented with the opportunity to use the visions for good, to take the chance, and it would make up for some of the burden. That was the day she put her Stone in my hand.”

Jebra lifted the purse and set it back in Zedd’s lap. “I will not do it for all the gold in D’Hara. But I will do it for you.”