The pillars of creation

"Jennsen!" Tom jumped up and rushed over. He put his big arm around her shoulders to steady her. "Dear spirits, are you all right?"

She nodded, too exhausted to speak. He didn't see the nod-he was already running for the wagon. Jermsen sank down to sit heavily on the grassy ground, catching her breath, surprised to be there at last, and relieved beyond words to be free of the swamp.

Tom ran back with a blanket. "You're soaking wet," he said as he threw the blanket around her. "What happened?"

"I went for a swim."

He paused at mopping her face with the comer of the blanket to frown at her. "I don't want to tell you your business, but I don't think that was a good idea."

"The snake would agree with you."

His frown tightened as his face drew closer to hers. "Snake? What happened in there? What do you mean, the snake would agree with me?"

Still struggling to get her breath, Jennsen waved a hand, dismissing it. She had been so afraid of being caught down there in the dark that she had virtually been running up the steep hillside for the last hour, on top of the exertion of the rest of it. She was spent.

The fear of it all was catching up with her. Her shoulders began to tremble. She realized then that she was clutching Tom's muscular arm for dear life. He seemed not to notice, or if he did, he didn't comment on it. She drew back, despite how good it felt to feel his strength, his solid reliable form, his sincere concern.

Tom protectively bunched more of the blanket around her. "Did you make it through to Althea's?"

She nodded, and when he handed her a waterskin, drank greedily.

"I swear, I've never heard of anyone ever making it back out of that swarnp-except going in the other side when they were invited. Did you see any of the beasts?"

"I had a snake, bigger round than your leg, wrapped around me. I got a pretty good look at it-more of a look than I wanted, actually."

He let out a low whistle. "Did the sorceress help you, then? Did you get what you needed from her? Is everything all right, then?" He halted abruptly, and seemed to rein in his curiosity. "Sorry. You're all cold and wet. I shouldn't be asking you so many questions."

"Althea and I had a long talk. I can't say that I got what I needed, but just knowing the truth is better than chasing illusions."

Concern showed in his eyes and the way he made sure the warm blanket was covering her. "If you didn't get the help you needed, then what will you do now?"

Jennsen drew her knife, along with a breath to steel herself. Holding the knife by the blade, she held it up before Tom's face, so that the handle was lit by the firelight. The worked metal that made up the ornate letter «R» glimmered as if it were covered in jewels. She held it out before her like a talisman, like an official proclamation cast in silver, like a demand from on high that could not be denied.

"I need to get back to the palace."

Without pause, Tom scooped her up in his massive arms, as if she were no more weight than a lamb, and carried her to the wagon. He lifted her over the side and gently set her in the back, among the nest of blankets.

"Don't worry-I'll get you back there. You did the hard part. Now, you just rest in those warm blankets and let me get you back there."

Jennsen was relieved to have her suspicions confirmed. In a way, though, it made her feel slimy, like falling into the swamp again. She was lying to him, using him. That wasn't right, but she didn't know what else to do.

Before he turned away, she seized his arm. "Tom, aren't you afraid to be helping me, when I'm involved in something so. .»

"Dangerous?" he finished for her. "What I'm doing is nothing much compared to the risk you took in there." He gestured to her matted red hair. "I'm nothing special, like you, but I'm glad you allowed me to do the small part I could do."

"I'm not nearly as special as you think I am." She suddenly felt very small. "I'm just doing as I must."

Tom pulled blankets from the back up toward her. "I see a lot of people. I don't need the gift to tell you're special."

"You know that this is secret business, and I can't tell you what it is I'm doing. I'm sorry, but I can't."

"Of course you can't. Only special people carry such a special weapon. I'd not expect you to say a word and I'd not ask."

"Thank you, Tom." Feeling even more detestable to be using him as she was, and when he was such a sincere man, Jennsen squeezed his arm in gratitude. "I can tell you it's important, and you're a huge help in it all."

He smiled. "You wrap yourself in those blankets and get yourself dry. We'll soon be back out on the Azrith Plains. In case you forgot, it's winter out there. Wet as you are, you'll freeze."

"Thank you, Tom. You're a good man." Jennsen slumped back into the blankets, too exhausted from the ordeal to sit up any longer.

"I'm counting on you to tell Lord Rahl," he said with his easy laugh. Tom quickly doused the fire and then climbed up into the wagon seat.