Stone of Tears

Zedd smiled, appreciating the boundary warden’s sharp mind. Those two were going to make quite a pair. “I will travel with you, until I reach the route toward Adie. I must do some things in the morning, and then we can be on our way.”

“Good. You look like you could use some rest before we start out.”

“I think you’re right.”

Zedd suddenly realized why he was so tired. He had thought it was because he hadn’t slept in days, but that wasn’t it. It was because they had struggled for months to stop Darken Rahl, and just when he thought it was over, that they had finally won, he now knew it had only begun. And this wasn’t just a dangerous wizard they were fighting; it was the Keeper of the underworld.

With Darken Rahl he had known most of the rules, how the boxes of Orden worked, how much time they’d had. He knew next to nothing now. The Keeper could win in the next five minutes. Zedd felt hopelessly ignorant. He sighed inwardly. He guessed he knew some things; he would just have to build on that knowledge.

“By the way,” Chase said as he straightened the knife at Rachel’s waist, “one of the other healers—Kelley, she said her name was—she gave me a message for you.” He leaned back and fished around in his pocket with two big fingers, bringing out a small piece of paper. He handed it to the wizard.

“What’s this?” The paper said West Rim, North Highland Way, Third Tier.

Chase pointed at the paper as Zedd held it out, reading it. “she said that is where you could find her. She said to tell you that she thought you needed rest, and that if you would come to her, she would make you a stenadine tea, and that she would brew it weak so you would sleep well. Does that make any sense to you?”

Zedd smiled just a little to himself as he crumpled the note in his fist. “A bit.” He tapped his lower lip in thought. “Get yourself some rest. If you think the pain of the wounds will keep you from sleeping, I could have one of the healers brew you up some…”

Chase held a hand up. “No! I’ll sleep fine.”

“Very well.” He patted Rachel’s arm and Chase’s shoulder and started off. A thought came to him and he turned back. “Have you ever seen Richard wearing a red coat? A red coat with gold buttons and brocade?”

Chase gave a snort of a laugh. “Richard? Zedd, you half raised him. You should know better than I that Richard doesn’t have a red coat like that. He has a feast-day coat that’s brown. Richard is a woods guide. He favors earth colors. I’ve never even seen him wear a red shirt. Why?”

Zedd ignored the question. “When you see him, tell him I said not to wear a red coat.” He shook a finger at Chase. “Ever! It’s very important, don’t forget. No red coat.”

Chase nodded. “done.” He knew when not to press the old man.

Zedd gave Rachel a smile and a quick hug before starting off down the hall. He wondered idly if he could remember where a dining hall was. It had to be almost past dinnertime.

A thought occurred to him: he didn’t know where he was going. He hadn’t done anything about finding himself a place to sleep. Well, no matter, he thought, the palace had guest rooms. He had told Chase about them. He could go there, too.

He unfolded the crumpled piece of paper in his hand and looked at it. A distinguished man with a neatly trimmed gray beard and dressed in official gold robes was walking past. Zedd snagged him gently.

“Excuse me, but could you tell me where…” He looked at the paper. “Where “West Rim, North Highland Way, Third Tier” is located?”

The bearded man gave a polite bow of his head. “Of course, sir. Those are the healers” quarters. It is not far. Let me guide you partway there, and give you direction for the rest of it.”

Zedd broke into a smile. He suddenly didn’t feel quite so tired. “Thank you. That is very kind of you.”

Chapter 5

As Sister Margaret turned the corner at the top of the stone steps, an old maidservant carrying a mop and bucket saw her and fell to her knees. The Sister paused momentarily to touch the top of the old woman’s bowed head.

“The Creator’s blessing on His child.”

The woman looked up, her face wrinkling into a warm, toothless smile. Thanks be to you, Sister, and blessings to you in His work.”

Margaret smiled back and watched as the old woman lugged her heavy bucket on down the hall. Poor woman, she thought, having to work in the middle of the night. But then, here she was herself, up and about in the middle of the night.

The shoulder of her dress pulled uncomfortably. She looked down and saw that in her haste she had misaligned the top three buttons. She redid them before pushing open the heavy oak door out into the darkness.

A pacing guard saw her and came at a run. She held the book over her mouth to hide her yawn. He lurched to a halt.

“Sister! Where’s the Prelate? He’s been yelling for her. Runs shivers up my spine, it does. Where is she?”

Sister Margaret scowled at the guard until he remembered his manners and dropped a quick bow. When he came back up she started off down the rampart with the man at her heels.