Faith of the Fallen (Sword of Truth 6)

“In the language of the street, you could describe him as such.”

“What does that mean?”

“Common people, those who understand little about magic, would describe him as a wizard. Strictly speaking, though, he is not a wizard.”

“Then what is he? Strictly speaking.”

“Actually, he is a sorcerer.”

Richard could only stare at her. He had always assumed that a wizard and a sorcerer were the same thing. When he thought about it, he realized that people who knew about magic spoke exclusively of a male with the gift as a wizard. He had never heard any of those people mention a sorcerer.

“You mean he’s like you, like a sorceress, only male?”

The question stymied her for a moment. “I suppose you could think of it that way, but that’s not really right. If you want to compare it, then you would have to say he has more in common with a wizard, since both are male. The concept of sorceress introduces irrelevant issues.”

Richard swiped water from his face. “Please, Nicci, I’ve been up all last night working, and I’m dead on my feet. Don’t go all abstract and complex on me? Just tell me what it means?”

She set her sewing aside and gestured to his pallet for him to sit near her, in the light. Richard pulled his shirt back on. He yawned as he crossed his legs under himself on his pallet.

“Brother Narev is a sorcerer,” she began. “I’m sorry, but the distinction is just not something simply explained. It’s a very complex matter. I will try to make it as clear as I can, but you must understand that I can’t boil it down too much or it will lose any real flavor of the truth.

“Sorcerers are much the same as wizards, but different—in much the way that water and oil are both liquids, you might say. Both pour and can dissolve things, but they don’t mix and they dissolve different things. Neither do the magic of a wizard and a sorcerer mix, nor do they work on the same things.

“Anything he did against a wizard’s gift, or anything a wizard did against his, would not work. While both are the gift, they are different aspects—they don’t mix. The magic of each nullifies the other, making it just sort of…fizzle.”

“You mean like Additive and Subtractive are opposites?”

“No. While on the surface, that would seem a good way to understand it, it’s entirely the wrong way to think of it.” She lifted her hands as if to begin again, but then let them drop back into her lap. “It’s very hard to explain the difference to one such as you who has little understanding of how his own gift works; you have no basis in which to ground anything I could tell you. There are no words which are both accurate and which you would understand; this is beyond your understanding.”

“Well…do you mean that, much like a wolf and a cougar are both predators, they are not the same sort of creature?”

“That’s a little closer to it.”

“How common are these sorcerers?”

“About as common as dream walkers…” she said as she gave him a meaningful look, “or war wizards.”

Even though he couldn’t understand it and she couldn’t explain it, Richard, for some reason, found that bit of news troubling.

“What is it, though, that he does differently?”

Nicci let out a sigh. “I’m no expert, and I’m not entirely sure, but I believe he does the same basic sort of things a wizard would do, but just does them with a sorcerer’s unique quality of magic—liquor and ale both get you drunk, but they are different kinds of drink made from different things.”

“One of those is stronger.”

“Not so with wizards and sorcerers. Do you see why words and these kinds of comparisons are so inadequate? The strength of a wizard and sorcerer’s gift is dependent on the individual, it is not influenced by the fundamental nature of his magic.”

Richard scratched his stubble as he considered her words. In view of the fact that both could do magic, he couldn’t come up with any distinction that seemed of any practical importance.

“Is there anything that he can do that a wizard can’t?” He waited. She didn’t look like she was thinking about his question, but more like she was considering whether she wanted to answer it at all. “Nicci, you told me when you first captured me that you would tell me the truth about things. You said you had no reason to deceive me.”

She watched his eyes, but finally looked away as she pulled her blond hair back from her face. The gesture unexpectedly, painfully, reminded him of Kahlan.

“Perhaps. I believe he may have learned how to replicate the spell that surrounded the Palace of the Prophets. It took wizards, thousands of years ago, with both sides of the gift to create that particular spell. I believe that one of the ways sorcerers are different is that their power is not divisible into its constituent elements, as it is in wizards. So, while his magic works differently, he may have learned enough of how the wizards—who at that time possessed both sides of the gift, as do you—were able to create the spell around the Palace of the Prophets to be able to replicate it in his own fashion.”

“You mean the spell that slowed aging? You think he can cast such a web?”

“Yes. Jagang intimated as much to me. I knew Brother Narev when I was young. He was a grown man then, a visionary, preaching the doctrine of the Order. He spoke pensively about wishing to live long enough to see his vision of the Order come to fruition. When I was taken to live at the palace in Tanimura, I believe that may have given him the idea as he not long after went there, too.

“The Sisters knew nothing of him. They thought him no more than a humble worker. Since his gift is different than that of a wizard, they didn’t detect his ability. I now believe that he went there for the express purpose of studying the spell around the Palace of the Prophets so that he could re-create such a spell for his own benefit.”

“Why didn’t he storm the palace—take it over—and then he could have the spell for his purpose?”

“It’s possible that in the beginning he thought he might one day take over the palace for his cause—in fact, Emperor Jagang had that exact plan—but it’s also possible that he was from the beginning studying the spell because he wanted not simply to re-create it, but to enhance it.”

Richard rubbed his brow, trying to comfort his aching head. “You mean that now maybe he thinks he can create the spell over the Retreat—the emperor’s new palace—like that one at the Palace of the Prophets, but better, so that aging will be slowed even more, so that he and his chosen will live even longer?”

“Yes. Don’t forget, age is relative. To one who lives to a thousand years, living less than one century would seem all too brief. To a person who lives many thousands of years, though, a lifetime that lasts but a mere one millennium would seem fleeting.

“I suspect that Brother Narev has learned to slow aging to such an extent that it would make him the next best thing to immortal. Jagang had planned on capturing the Palace of the Prophets. It might have been that once they secured the palace, Brother Narev intended to augment its spell to suit his purposes.”

“But I spoiled that plan.”

Nicci nodded. “As are all of us who were once at the palace, Brother Nare

v now grows older just like everyone else. Once away from the spell, it feels like a headlong rush toward the grave. What youth Brother Narev has left, he is no doubt eager to preserve. Remaining relatively young forever has much to be said for it. Remaining old forever would be less attractive. Because you destroyed the Palace of the Prophets, where he could have had ample time to bring his plan to bear, he has been forced to act sooner, rather than later.”

Richard flopped back on his mat. He laid the back of a wrist over his forehead. “He has the blacksmith making a spell-form in iron. The blacksmith has no idea what it is he’s creating. The spell-form is to be covered with gold, eventually.”

“For purity. It’s likely that is merely part of the process. It could even be that the gold-covered spell-form is nothing more than a pattern, from which the true spell-form will be cast in pure gold.”

Richard squinted in thought. “If it is a pattern for casting, that would make it more likely that Narev intends to cast a number of these spell-forms—that they will work together.”

Nicci looked up and frowned. “Yes, that is a possibility.”

“Will making such a thing harm the blacksmith?”

“No. It is propitious conjuring. Disregarding for the moment the purpose for which it is desired, such a spell is meant to be beneficial; it is to slow aging in order to lengthen life.”

“What about Brother Narev’s disciples?”

“Young wizards from the Palace of the Prophets.”

Alarmed, Richard sat up. “I was at the Palace of the Prophets. They will recognize me.”

“No. They were young wizards in training there, but they left to follow Brother Narev before you arrived. If they see you, they will not know you.”

“If they’re wizards, won’t they recognize that I have magic?”

A smile of contempt colored her features. “They are not that talented. They are but bugs to what you are.”

Richard found no comfort in the compliment. “Won’t Brother Narev, or his disciples, recognize you?”

Her face turned serious. “Oh, they would know me.”