Temple of the Winds by Terry Goodkind
“What was your name?” Richard asked.
“Name?” The sliph frowned, as if puzzled. “I am the sliph.”
“Who made you into the sliph?”
“Some of my clients.”
“Why? Why did they make you into the sliph?”
“Because I never reveal my clients.”
“Sliph, could you explain that better?”
“Some of the wizards here, in this place, were my clients. The most powerful of them. I was a very exclusive whore, and very expensive. Many of the wizards contended for power. Others tried to use me to displace some of those who were my clients. Some wished to use me for their pleasure, but not the kind of pleasure I offered. I never reveal my clients.”
“You mean they would have been pleased if you told them the names of the wizards who visited you, and maybe a little more about those visits.”
“Yes. My clients feared these others would use me for this pleasure, and so they made me the sliph.”
Richard turned away. He raked his fingers back through his hair. Even as they fought the enemy, they fought among themselves. When he finally gathered his wits, he turned back to the beautiful silver face.
“Sliph, those men are all dead now. There is no one alive who knows these men. There are no wizards anymore to vie for power. Could you tell me a little more?”
“They made me, and told me that I would be unable to speak their names as long as they lived. They said that their power would prevent it. If it is true that their spirits have passed from this world, then it will no longer matter and I will be able to speak their names.”
“It was this man, Lothain, who was one of your clients, wasn’t it? And this other wizard, Ricker, thought he was a hypocrite.”
“Lothain.” The quicksilver face softened as she seemed to test the name. “Wizard Ricker came to me, and said that this man, Lothain, was the head prosecutor, and that he was a vile beast, who would turn on me. He wanted my help to depose Lothain. I refused to name my clients.”
Richard spoke into the silence. “And Ricker’s words proved true. Lothain turned on you, and made you into the sliph so that you couldn’t speak out against him.”
“Yes. I told Lothain that I did not reveal my clients. I told him that he had no need to fear me speaking. He said that it didn’t matter, that I was only a whore, and the world would never miss me. He twisted my arm and hurt me. He used me for his pleasure without my permission. When he finished, he laughed, and then I saw a flash of light in my mind.
“Ricker came to me after, and told me that he would put an end to Lothain, and wizards like him. He wept at the edge of my well, and said he was sorry for what they did to me. He told me that he would put a stop to the way magic destroyed people.”
“Were you sad?” Berdine asked. “Was it sad to be made into the sliph?”
“They took sadness from me when they made me.”
“Did they take happiness, too?” Kahlan whispered.
“They left me with duty.”
Even in this, they had made a mistake. They left some of who the sliph had been so that they could use her. The part they left would submit to anyone with the price required: magic. They had been tripped up by her nature. They used her, but had to guard her, because she would offer herself to anyone—even the enemy—who had the required price.
“Sliph,” Richard said, “I’m so sorry that we wizards did this to you. They had no right. I’m so sorry.”
The sliph smiled. “Wizard Ricker told me that if any Master said those words to me, I should tell them these words from him: ‘Ward left in. Ward right out. Guard your heart from stone.’”
“What does that mean?”
“He did not explain the words to me.”
Richard felt sick. Were they going to die because of a three-thousand-year-old fight for power? Perhaps Jagang was right; perhaps magic had no place in the world any longer.
Richard turned back to the others.
“Berdine, you need to get some sleep. Raina has to be up early to relieve Cara. She needs to get to bed, too. Set a guard for Kahlan’s rooms and then both of you get some rest. I’ve had enough of this day, too.”
Richard was in a dead sleep when he awakened to a hand pushing at him. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes, trying to gather his senses in a panic.
“What? What is it?” His voice sounded to him like gravel being poured from a bucket.
“Lord Rahl?” came a tearful voice. “Are you awake?”
Richard squinted up at the figure holding a lamp. At first, he couldn’t make out who it was.
“Berdine?” He had never seen her in anything but her leather uniform before. She was standing in his room in a white nightdress. Her hair was down. He had never seen Berdine without her hair in the single braid. It was a disorienting sight.
Richard swung his legs over the edge of the bed and pulled on his pants in a rush. “Berdine, what is it? What’s wrong?”
She wiped at the tears on her face. “Lord Rahl, please, come.” She let out a sob. “Raina is sick.”
53
Verna shut the door as silently as she could after Warren dragged the flailing woman back into the darkness. His hand was clamped just as tightly over her mouth as his web was clamped around her gift. Verna wouldn’t have been able to control the woman’s magic as well as could Warren. The gift of a wizard was stronger than a sorceress’s—even Verna’s—gift.
Verna lit a small flame above her upturned palm. The woman’s eyes widened, and then filled with tears.
“Yes, Janet, it’s me, Verna. If you promise not to cry out and betray us, I will have Warren release you.”
Janet nodded earnestly. Verna gripped her dacra in her other fist, held out of sight, just in case she was wrong. She gave a nod to Warren, signaling him to release the young woman.
When she was free, Janet flung her arms around Verna’s neck. She rejoiced with a soft sob. Warren held up his palm, letting a small flame dance above it so they could see. The tiny room was made of huge blocks of dark stone, as was the rest of the stronghold. Milky water seeped through some of the joints, leaving trails of crusty stains down the walls.
“Oh, Verna,” Janet whispered, “you have no idea what a joy it is to see your face.”
Verna embraced the trembling woman as she wept softly while clutching at Verna’s cloak. Verna still had the dacra in her fist, behind Janet’s back.
Verna eased her away to smile at the tear-stained face. She wiped away some of the tears, and smoothed back Janet’s dark locks.
Janet kissed her ring finger—an ancient gesture beseeching the Creator’s protection. Even though she had been reasonably sure Janet was loyal to the Light, Verna was relieved to see such confirmation.
A Sister of the Dark was sworn to the Keeper of the Underworld, and would never kiss her ring finger. It was an act that represented a Sister’s symbolic betrothal to the Creator.
It was the one thing that a Sister of the Dark could not do. A Sister of the Dark could not hide her loyalty to her true master, the Keeper, by kissing her ring finger, for kissing that finger would invoke her dark master’s wrath.
Verna slipped the dacra back up her sleeve as Janet glanced back at Warren. They exchanged smiles.
Both Verna and Warren took in Janet’s bizarre garb. She was barefoot. The baggy garment, cinched at the waist with a white cord, covered her from ankles to neck to wrists, but was so sheer that the woman might as well have been naked.
Between a thumb and finger, Verna tugged out some of the diaphanous material. “What in the name of Creation are you doing wearing this?”
Janet glanced down at herself. “Jagang makes all his slaves dress like this. After a while, you don’t even notice anymore.”
“I see.” Verna could see that Warren was doing his best to avert his eyes.
“Verna, what are you doing here?” Janet asked in a demure voice.
Verna grinned and pinched Janet’s cheek. “I came to ge
Janet blinked in astonishment. “The Prelate let you come after me?”
Verna lifted her hand, showing the woman the sunburst-patterned ring of the Prelate. “I am the Prelate.”
Janet’s jaw fell open. She dropped to the floor and began kissing the hem of Verna’s dress.
Verna gripped Janet’s shoulder and urged her to her feet. “Stop that. There’s no time for that.”
“But—but, how? What happened? How can this be? What has happened?”
“Verna, those webs won’t hold for long,” Warren cautioned in a thin whisper. “We’ve already overstayed our welcome.”
“Janet, listen to me. We can talk later, after we get you out of here. The things we had to do to get in here only give us a brief time to get back out. It’s dangerous for us to be here.”
“I should say so,” Janet said. “Prelate, you must—”
“Verna. We’re friends. It’s still Verna.”
“Verna, how in Creation did you ever get into Jagang’s stronghold? You must get out at once. If you are found—”
Verna frowned and touched the ring through Janet’s lower lip. “What’s this?”
Janet paled. “It marks me as one of Jagang’s slaves.” She started shivering. “Verna, save yourself. Get out of here. You must get out!” she whispered urgently.
“I agree,” Warren whispered through gritted teeth. “Let’s go!”
Verna pushed her cloak back over her shoulders, out of the way. “I know. Now that we’ve got you, we can go.”
“Dear Creator, you have no idea how much I’d like to go with you, but if I did—you can’t imagine what Jagang would do to me. Oh, dear Creator, you can’t imagine.”
Her eyes flooded with tears at the very thought. Verna embraced her for a moment.
“Janet, listen to me. I’m your friend, you know I wouldn’t lie to you.” She waited until the other nodded. “There is a way to keep the dream walker from your mind.”
Janet clutched Verna’s dress at the shoulders. “Verna, don’t torment me with hope that I know is false. You have no idea how much I’d like to believe you, but I know—”
“It’s true. Listen to me, Janet. I’m the Prelate, now. Don’t you think Jagang would take me if he could? Why do you think he hasn’t taken the others? He can’t, that’s why.”
Janet was shivering again, tears running down her cheeks.
Warren put a hand to her back. “What Verna says is true, Sister Janet. Jagang can’t get into our minds. Come with us, and you will be safe. Hurry.”
“How?” Janet whispered.
Verna leaned close. “You remember Richard?”
“Of course. Trouble and wonder in one person.”
Verna smiled at the truth of that. “He has the gift, that’s why I went after him, but there is more to it. He is born with both sides of it. More than that, though, he is a Rahl.
“Three thousand years ago, in the great war, Richard’s ancestor created a magic to block the dream walkers of that time from his people’s minds. That magic was passed down to his descendants who have the gift.”
Janet’s fists tightened on Verna’s dress. “How? How does it work?”
Verna smiled. “It’s so simple that it’s hard to believe. The most powerful magic is sometimes like that. All that is necessary is to be sworn to him, in your heart, and his magic protects you from the dream walker. As long as Richard is alive and in this world, Jagang will never again be able to enter your mind.”
“I swear allegiance to Richard, and I’m free of Jagang?”
Verna nodded at the woman’s stunned face. “It’s true.”
“What do I have to do?”
Verna held up a finger to forestall Warren’s objections. She went to her knees, pulling Janet down with her.
“Say the words with me, and mean them in your heart. Richard is a war wizard, and leads us in our fight against Jagang. We believe in him, in his heart, with all our hearts. Say the words with me, and believe, and you will be free.”
Janet nodded as she clasped her hands prayerfully. Tears coursed down her cheeks. Verna whispered the devotion, pausing so Janet could repeat the words after her.
“Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.”
Janet’s whispered words echoed Verna’s until she was finished.
Verna kissed Janet’s cheek. “You are free, my friend. Now hurry, let’s get out of here.”
Janet snatched Verna’s sleeve. “What about the others?”
Verna hesitated. “Janet, I would like nothing better than to rescue the rest of our Sisters, too, but I can’t, not now. We will try to get them later. If we try, now, Jagang will have us.
“I came to get you because you are my friend, and I love you. The five of us all swore to always protect each other. Phoebe is with us already. There is only you left.
“As much as I want to rescue the rest of our Sisters, it must be left until later. I promise you, I won’t forget them, or leave them, but we can’t do it all now, all at once.”
Janet’s head lowered, and she stared at the floor. “Jagang killed Christabel. I saw him do it. Her screams still haunt my nightmares. Her screams, and Jagang.”
Verna felt as if she had been punched in the gut. Christabel had been her best friend. She didn’t want to know the details. Christabel had turned to the Keeper.
“That’s why I have to get you out of here, Janet. My fear for you, and for what Jagang has done to you, haunts my nightmares.”
Janet’s head came up. “What about Amelia? She was one of us five. We can’t leave her.”
Verna gave Janet a level look. “Amelia is a Sister of the Dark.”
“Was,” Janet said. “No longer.”
“What?” Verna whispered.
Warren leaned over. “Once you’re sworn to the Keeper, you can’t change your mind. You can’t trust what she says, Sister Janet. Now, let’s get out of here. She’s sworn to the Keeper.”
Janet shook her head. “No longer. Jagang sent her on some sort of mission, involving magic, and in order to accomplish her task, she was forced to betray the Keeper.”
“Impossible,” Verna said.
“True,” Janet insisted. “She’s back. She has re-sworn her oath to the Creator. I’ve talked to her. She sits and weeps, kissing her ring finger half the night, praying to the Creator.”
Verna leaned closer, looking into Janet’s eyes. “Janet, listen to me. Have you seen her kiss her ring finger? Have you seen it with your own eyes? Are you absolutely sure she wasn’t kissing another finger?”
“I’ve sat with her, trying to comfort her. I’ve watched her.” Janet kissed her own finger with a whispered supplication that if she wasn’t telling the truth she would be struck dead.
“Just like that? She kisses her finger just like that?”
“Yes. She kisses her finger and cries and prays that the Creator will kill her for the horror of what she has done.”
“What has she done?”
“I don’t know. When I ask, she practically goes crazy with screaming and weeping. Jagang won’t let her kill herself. He has control of her mind, as he does with the rest of us. He wouldn’t let any of us kill ourselves; we must continue to serve him.
“Verna, we can’t leave Amelia here. We have to take her with us. I won’t leave her here. I’m the only comfort she has in this world. The things Jagang does to her…”
Verna turned away. Her stomach roiled at the thought of leaving Amelia if indeed she had abandoned the Keeper. The five of them had been best friends for close to one hundred fifty years, since they were young novices.
The life of a Sister of the Light was a difficult one. They had sworn oaths always to protect one another.
“Verna, she i
Verna glanced back to Janet’s haunted eyes.
“Verna, we must call him Excellency,” Janet said in a shuddering whisper. “If we displease him for any reason at all, we have to serve a week in the tents.”
Warren spoke Verna’s name with rising inflection. Verna waved him to silence. “The tents? What are you saying?”
Janet’s eyes flooded with tears again. “He gives us to his soldiers for a week. We have gold rings, so they won’t kill us, because those with gold rings belong to Jagang, but they can do whatever else they want. They pass us from tent to tent for a week. Even the old Sisters are sent to the tents. Jagang calls it a lesson in discipline that all must learn.”
Janet fell to her knees, convulsing in sobs as she covered her mouth with both hands. Verna sank down beside her and hugged her.
“You don’t know what Jagang’s men do to us,” Janet cried. “You don’t know, Verna!”
“I understand,” Verna whispered. “Hush now. It’s all right, now. We’ll get you away from here.”
Janet shook her head against Verna’s shoulder. “I won’t leave Amelia here. I’m all she has. I’m a Sister of the Light. The Creator would never forgive me if I abandoned her. If I leave her, I’d be leaving my duty to the Creator. She’s my friend. She came back to the Light. She came back to the Creator.
“Jagang sent her to the tents, again. If I’m not here when she comes back, she’ll go crazy. No one else will tend to her. The Sisters of the Dark won’t go near her, and the Sisters of the Light won’t forgive her. I’m her only friend. I’m the only one who forgave her and accepted her back to the Light.
“She’ll be a bloody mess when she gets back. You don’t know what Jagang’s men are like. Except for broken bones, Jagang won’t allow us to use the gift to heal one another when we come back from the tents. He says it’s part of the lesson, that our souls may belong to the Creator when we die, but in this life, Jagang owns our bodies.
“We can have our broken bones knitted by the gift when we come back, but until then, we have to suffer the agony of that along with everything else. If I’m not here, no one else will heal that much for her, or comfort her.”