Stone of Tears

Warren cleared his throat and then wet his lips with his tongue. He leaned in a little. “Richard, I’m sorry. I thought you knew, or I would have told you myself a long time ago. I would have.”

“Told me what!”

“The magic. The magic of the Palace of the Prophets. It has Additive and Subtractive elements to it that are tied to the other worlds. That makes time move differently here.”

“Warren,” Richard said hoarsely, “do you mean it affects all of us? All those wearing the collar?”

“No… everyone at the palace. The Sisters, too. This place is spelled. As long as the Sisters live at the palace, they age the same as we do. The spell makes us age more slowly; makes time seem different to us.”

“What do you mean, “different’?”

The spell slows our aging process. For every year we age, those outside age between ten and fifteen years.”

Richard’s head was spinning. “Warren, that can’t be true. It can’t.” He tried desperately to think of proof. “Pasha. Pasha could only be…”

“Richard, I’ve known Pasha for over a hundred years.”

Richard slid the chair back and stood. He raked his fingers through his hair. That doesn’t make any sense. It has to be some kind of… Why would it work like that?”

Warren took Richard’s arm and sat him down. He pulled his own chair close. He spoke in a soft, concerned voice, as one would when breaking calamitous news to a someone.

“It takes a long time to train a wizard. Outside, in the rest of the world, over twenty years had gone by before I was even able to touch my Han. But because I live here, I had aged less than two years. Twenty years had passed here, too, but I aged only two. If the palace did not slow our aging, we would all die of old age before we could even light a lamp with our Han.

“I have never heard of it taking less than two hundred years to train a wizard. Commonly, it takes near to three hundred, and sometimes even as much as four hundred.

“The wizards who created this place knew that, and so they tied the magic here to the worlds beyond, where time is meaningless. I don’t know how it works, just that it does.”

Richard’s hands shook. “But… I have to get this collar off. I have to get to Kahlan. I can’t wait that long. Warren, help me. I can’t wait that long.”

Warren glanced to the floor. “I’m sorry, Richard. I don’t know how to get our collars off, and I don’t know how to get by the barrier that keeps us here. I know how you feel, though. It drove me into the vaults for the last fifty years. Some of the others don’t seem to care, and say that it just gives them more time with women.”

Richard slowly rose. “I can’t believe it.”

Warren turned his face up. “Richard, please forgive me for telling you. I’m sorry I was the one to hurt you. You’ve always been…”

Richard put a hand to Warren’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t do it. You simply told me the truth.” His voice felt as if it were coming from the bottom of a well. Thank you for the truth, my friend.”

All he could think, as his feet shuffled toward the door, was that his dreams were all dying. If he couldn’t get the collar off, everything would be lost.

Sisters Ulicia and Finella both stood in warning as he came through the doors. They backed away, the same as the guards had, when they saw the look on his face. A sparkling shield went up before the door. He went through it without slowing. The door beyond burst open for him, without him touching it, part of the frame splintering. It somehow never occurred to him to use the knob.

The Prelate was sitting with her hands folded on the heavy walnut table. Her solemn eyes watched him come. Richard pressed up against the table, towering over her.

“I must admit, Richard,” she said in a somber tone, “that I have not been looking forward to this visit.”

His straining voice broke. “Why didn’t Sister Verna tell me?”

“I ordered her not to.”

And why did you not tell me?”

“Because I wanted you first to learn some significant things about yourself, so you would be better able to understand your importance. The burden of a wizard, and of a Prelate, too.”

Richard sank to his knees before her desk. Ann,” he whispered, “please, help me. I must have the Rada’Han off. I love Kahlan. I need her. I need to get back to her. I’ve been gone a long time. Please, Ann, help me. Take the collar off.”

She closed her eyes for a long moment. When they opened, they were heavy with regret.

“I spoke the truth, Richard. We cannot get the Rada’Han off until you learn enough to help us. That will take time.”

“Please, Ann, help me. Isn’t there any other way?”

Slowly, her eyes staying on his, she shook her head. “No, Richard. Over time, you will come to accept it. They all do. It is easier for the rest, because they come here as boys, not understanding, and grasp it only over time. We have never had to tell one grown, like you, who could understand the significance.”