The Pillars of Creation (Sword of Truth 7)

He was still peering about as the flames grew, now licking at the ceiling. “I guess you could be right.”

Surrender.

“Sebastian, we have to get out of here, now, or we’ll be next.” Jennsen clutched the cloak at his shoulder, pulling him away. “They may be near—right now.”

“But, how could they know?”

“Dear spirits, Lord Rahl is a wizard! How does he do anything he does? How did he find my house?”

Sebastian was still looking, prodding at the rubble with his sword. Jennsen tugged again at his cloak, urging him toward the open door.

“Your house…” he said, frowning. “Yes, I see what you mean.”

“We have to get out of here before they catch us!”

He nodded, reassuring her. “Where do you want to go?”

They both watched the dark doorway over their shoulders as well as the growing conflagration to their other side.

“We’ve no choice, now,” Jennsen said. “Lathea was our only hope to find an answer. We have to go to the People’s Palace, now. Find her sister, Althea. She’s the only one with any answers. She’s a sorceress, too, and the only one who can see the holes in the world—whatever that means.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

She thought about the voice. It sounded so cold and lifeless in her head. It had surprised her. She hadn’t heard it since her mother’s murder.

“What other choice do we have, now? If I’m ever to know why Lord Rahl wants to kill me, why he murdered my mother, why I’m hunted, and maybe how to escape his clutches for good, then I have to go find this woman, Althea. I have to!”

He hurried with her through the door and out into the bitter night. “We better go back and get our things together. We can get an early start.”

“With them this close, I fear to be trapped in the inn while we sleep. I have the money from my mother. You have what you took from the men. We can buy horses. We have to leave tonight and hope that no one saw us come here earlier, or again, now.”

Sebastian sheathed his sword. His breath streamed out into the night as he considered their options.

He glanced back through the door. “With the fire, at least there won’t be any evidence of what happened here. We have that much going for us. No one saw us come here earlier, so no one will have cause to ask us questions. No one will know we were here again. They won’t have any reason to tell soldiers about us.”

“As long as we get out of here before it’s discovered and everyone gets suspicious,” Jennsen said. “Before soldiers start asking about strangers in town.”

He took her arm. “All right. Let’s be quick, then.”

Chapter 12

Well, wasn’t this just something. Stranger and stranger. This night was full of new things, one right after another.

From his hiding place just around the corner of the house, Oba had been able to hear much of the conversation between the two. At first, he had been sure they would run off to get help. Oba didn’t think the fire could be extinguished, but for a time he had been concerned, fearing that the man and woman might pull Lathea out of the house—rescue her from the blaze so that people could have a look. It would be just like the troublesome sorceress to find a way to come back to torment him, and after all his work.

But both the man and the woman wanted to leave Lathea to the fire. They, too, hoped the fire would cover the evidence of the sorceress’s true end. They almost sounded like thieves, the woman talking about taking money from her mother and him taking money from men. That sounded suspicious.

If they had found gold and silver there, they might have taken it. Had they worked and slaved their whole lives, as he had, to finally recover money that was their due? Or had they been forced to suffer the abuse of swallowing Lathea’s cursed cures their whole life? Oba didn’t think so. It had been different for him. He had simply recovered money that was rightfully his all along. He felt a little indignant to be almost in the company of common thieves.

This night was just one startling thing after another. It seemed amazing to him how his life had gone along, day after day, month after month, year after year, always the same, same chores, same work, same everything. Now, in one night, all that seemed to have changed.

First, he had become invincible and in so doing unleashed his righteous inner self, only to discover that Rahl blood coursed through his veins, and now this odd pair showed up to help him conceal Lathea’s true end. Stranger and stranger.

The startling news that he was in fact the son of Darken Rahl still had him in a state of astonished shock. He, Oba Schalk, as it turned out, was someone quite important, someone of noble blood, someone of noble birth.

He wondered whether or not he should now properly think of himself as Oba Rahl. He wondered if he was, in fact, a prince.

That was an intriguing notion. Unfortunately, his mother had raised him simply, so he didn’t know much about such matters, what station or title was rightfully his.

He also realized that his mother was a liar. She had hidden his true identity from her own son, her flesh and blood. Darken Rahl’s flesh and blood. She was probably resentful and envious and didn’t want Oba to know of his greatness. That would be just like her. She was always trying to beat him down. The bitch.

The smoke coming through the open door no longer smelled of lamp oil. It now carried the aroma of roasting meat. Oba grinned as he peeked through the doorway to see Lathea’s hand sticking above the cabinet, blackening in the flames, waving to him from the world of the dead.

Sneaking across the snow to hide behind the fat trunk of an oak, Oba watched as the couple hurried down the path, through the trees, toward the road. When they had passed out of sight, he followed in their tracks, staying hidden. He was a pretty big man to hide behind a tree, but in the darkness it wasn’t difficult.

He was puzzled, and troubled, by certain aspects of the encounter. He had been surprised that the couple wouldn’t want to call for help, and instead ran away. The woman, especially, was eager to escape, thinking that because of Lathea’s death, someone was after them. A quad, she had said. That was part of what troubled him.

Oba had vaguely heard of quads before. Assassins of some sort. Assassins sent by the Lord Rahl himself. Assassins sent after important people. Or people who were especially dangerous. Maybe that was it, they were dangerous people and not common thieves, after all.

Oba had heard her name—Jennsen.

But the thing that had really perked up his ears was that Lathea had a sister named Althea—yet another cursed sorceress—and Althea was the only one who could see the holes in the world. That was most troubling of all, because that was the very same thing that Lathea had said to him. At the time, he had thought the old sorceress was already conversing with the spirits in the world of the dead, or maybe with the Keeper of the underworld himself, but as it turned out, she was speaking the truth.

Somehow, this Jennsen woman and Oba were both what Lathea called holes in the world. That sounded important. This Jennsen was somehow like him. They were somehow connected. That fascinated him.

He wished he had gotten a better look at her. The first meeting had been in darkness. The second time he saw her, just now, the fire had provided only enough light for a dim and shadowed view. As she had turned away, he only had time for a quick glimpse. From that fleeting look, he’d seen that she was a remarkably beautiful young woman.

He paused behind a tree before making his way across the open snow toward the concealment of a more distant tree. These people, like Jennsen, like Oba, who were holes in the world, were important. Quads were sent after important people—people who were especially dangerous to the Lord Rahl. Lathea had said that if he knew of Oba, the Lord Rahl would want to exterminate him.

Oba didn’t know if he believed Lathea. She would be jealous of anyone more important than herself. Still, he might be in some kind of danger without even knowing it—hunted because he was an impor

tant man. That seemed pretty far-fetched, but in view of all the other new things he had learned this night, he didn’t think it was entirely out of the question. An important man, a man interested in learning new things, didn’t just dismiss such new information without giving it due consideration.

Oba was still trying to connect together all the things he had learned. It was all very complicated—that much he did know. He had to take everything into account if he was to put it all together.