Stone of Tears

Richard’s chest heaved with each labored breath. His stare was fixed on the collar. His eyes had a strange, wild, haunted look Kahlan had never seen before. She was frozen at seeing his terror, at her own terror.

Sister Grace held his eyes with a vengeance when he looked up at her. “Your first offer is at hand. Each offer comes from a different sister. The first offer comes from me.

“I, Sister of the Light, Grace Rendall, give the first reason for the Rada’Han, give the first chance to be helped. The first reason for the Rada’Han is to control the headaches and open your mind so you may be taught to use the gift.

“You now have the chance to accept or to refuse. I strongly advise you to accept the first offer of our help. Please believe me, it will only be much more difficult for you to accept the second time, and worse yet the third time.

“Please, Richard, accept the offer now, on the first of the three reasons and offers. Your life depends on this.”

She stood still, waiting. His gaze went back to the dull silver collar. He looked on the verge of panic. The room was dead quiet except for the slow crackle of the fire and the soft hiss of the torches.

He looked up, and his mouth opened, but no words came as he stared unblinking at her intense gaze.

At last he blinked and spoke in a hoarse whisper. “I will not wear a collar. I will never again wear a collar. For anyone. For any reason. Never.”

She straightened a little, lowering the collar, looking genuinely surprised. “You refuse the offer and the Rada’Han?”

“I refuse.”

Sister Grace stood a while, staring with what seemed to be a mix of sadness and worry. Pale, she turned to the two Sisters behind her. “Forgive me, Sisters, I have failed.” She handed the Rada’Han to Sister Elizabeth. “It is upon you now.”

“The Light forgives you,” Sister Elizabeth whispered as she kissed Sister Grace on each white cheek.

“The Light forgives you,” Sister Verna whispered, giving the same kisses.

Sister Grace turned back to Richard, her voice less steady. “May the Light cradle you always with gentle hands. May you someday find the way.”

Holding Richard’s gaze, she brought her hand up, giving it a flick. A knife appeared from her sleeve. But rather than a blade, it had what seemed to be a pointed, round rod coming from the silver handle.

Richard leapt back, drawing the sword in one swift, smooth motion. Its distinctive ring sounded in the air.

Deftly, Sister Grace flipped the knife in her hand so it stopped with the blade pointing not toward Richard, but toward herself. She held it with practiced grace, without taking her eyes from Richard.

And then she plunged the knife between her breasts.

There was a flash of light that seemed to come from within her eyes, and she collapsed to the ground, dead.

Richard and Kahlan both took a step back in wide-eyed shock and horror. Sister Verna bent and pulled the knife from the dead woman. She stood and looked at Richard.

“As we told you: this is no game.” She slipped the silver knife into her cloak. “You must bury her body yourself. If you let another do it for you, you will have nightmares for the rest of your life; nightmares caused by magic. There is no cure for them. Don’t forget, you must bury her yourself.” Both Sisters pulled their hoods up. “You have been offered the first of three chances, and refused. We will return.”

The two Sisters glided to the door and were gone.

The sword’s point slowly settled to the ground. Richard stared at the dead woman, tears running down his face.

“I won’t wear a collar again,” he whispered to no one but himself. “Not for anyone.”

With labored movements, he retrieved a small shovel and a handle from his pack, and hooked them onto his belt. He then rolled Sister Grace onto her back, folded her hands across her, and lifted her lifeless form in his arms. One arm slipped from its place, loose, swinging. Her head hung down, limp. Her dead eyes stared. Black hair dangled. There was a small blossom of blood on the front of her white blouse.

Richard’s pained eyes sought Kahlan. “I’m going to bury her. I would like to go alone.”

Kahlan nodded and watched him shoulder the door open. After it had been pushed shut, she sank to the ground and started crying.

Chapter 10

She was sitting, staring into the fire, when Richard came back. He had been gone a long time. After Kahlan had stopped crying, she had gone to tell Savidlin and Weselan what had happened, and then came back to the spirit house to wait for Richard. They had told her to come get them if she needed anything.

Richard sat down next to her and put his arms around her, his head on her shoulder. She ran her fingers through the back of his hair and held him close. She wanted to say something, but was afraid to say anything, so she just held him.

“I hate magic,” he whispered at last. “It’s going to come between us again.”

“We won’t let it. We just won’t. We will think of something.”

“Why did she have to kill herself?”

“I don’t know,” Kahlan whispered.