The Pillars of Creation (Sword of Truth 7)

His tone turned more impassioned. “Jennsen, we have gifted women like Althea. They’re from a sect, the Sisters of the Light, that used to live at the Palace of the Prophets in the Old World. Richard Rahl, when he invaded the Old World, destroyed their palace. It was said to be a beautiful and special place, but he destroyed it. Now the Sisters are with Emperor Jagang, helping him. Maybe our sorceresses would be able to help you, too.”

She looked up into his caring eyes. “Really? Maybe those with the emperor would know a way to hide me from my murderous half brother’s wizardry?…But he’s always only a half step behind, waiting for me to stumble so he can pounce. Sebastian, I don’t think I could make it that far. Althea helped hide me from Lord Rahl once. I must convince her to help me again. If she won’t, I fear I’ll have no chance before I’m caught.”

He leaned out again, checking, then gave her a confident smile. “We’ll find Althea. Her magic will hide you and then you can get away.”

Feeling better, she returned the smile.

Judging that the Mord-Sith were gone and it was safe, they returned to the hall to search for Friedrich. They each inquired at several places before Jennsen found someone who knew of the gilder. With fresh hope, she and Sebastian moved deeper into the palace, following the directions they were given, to a juncture of grand passageways.

There, in the center of the intersection of two central corridors, she was surprised to see a quiet plaza with a square pool of dark water. Tiles, rather than the usual marble, surrounded the pool. Four columns at the outer edge of the tiles supported the soaring opening to the sky, covered, since it was winter, by leaded glass panels. The beveled glass gave the light cast down across the tiles a shimmering, liquid quality.

In the pool, off center in a way that seemed right without Jennsen understanding exactly why it felt right, stood a dark pitted rock with a bell atop it. It was a remarkably quiet sanctuary in the center of such a busy place.

Seeing the square with the bell sparked her memory of similar places. When the bell tolled, she recalled, the people came to such squares to bow down and chant a devotion to the Lord Rahl. She suspected that such homage was one price paid for the honor of being allowed in his palace.

People sat on the low wall around the edge, talking in hushed tones, watching orange fish gliding through the dark water. Even Sebastian stared for a few minutes before moving on.

Everywhere, there were alert soldiers. Some seemed to be stationed at key spots. Squads of guards moved through the halls, watching everyone, stopping some people to speak with them. What the soldiers asked, Jennsen didn’t know, but it worried her greatly.

“What do we say if they question us?” she asked.

“It’s best not to say anything unless you have to.”

“But if you have to, then what?”

“Tell them that we live on a farm to the south. Farmers are isolated and don’t know much about anything but life on their farm, so it wouldn’t sound suspicious if we say we don’t know about anything else. We came to see the palace and perhaps buy a few small things—herbs and such.”

Jennsen had met farmers, and didn’t think they were as ignorant of things as Sebastian seemed to think. “Farmers grow or collect their own herbs,” she said. “I don’t think they would need to come to the palace to buy them.”

“Well, then…we came to buy some nice cloth so you could make clothes for the baby.”

“Baby? What baby?”

“Your baby. You are my wife and only recently found yourself pregnant. You are with child.”

Jennsen felt her face flush to red. She couldn’t say she was pregnant—that would only lead to more questions.

“All right. We’re farmers, here to buy a few small things—herbs and such. Rare herbs we don’t grow ourselves.”

His only answer was a sideways glance and a smile. His arm returned to her waist, as if to banish her embarrassment.

Beyond another intersection of wide passageways, following the directions they’d been given, they turned down another hall to the right. It, too, was lined with vendors. Jennsen immediately spotted the booth with a gilded star hanging before it. She didn’t know if it was intentional or not, but the gilded star had eight points, like the star in a Grace. She had drawn the Grace often enough to know.

With Sebastian at her side, she rushed over to the booth. Her heart sank when they found the place occupied only by an empty chair, but it was still morning, and she reasoned that maybe he hadn’t come in yet. The closest businesses weren’t yet open, either.

She stopped several stalls down at a place selling leather mugs. “Do you know if the gilder is here today?” she asked the man working behind the bench.

“Sorry, don’t know,” he said without looking up from his work at cutting decorations with a fine gouge. “I just started here.”

She hurried down to the next occupied booth, a place that sold hangings with colorful scenes sewn on them. She turned to say something to Sebastian, but saw him inquiring at another booth not far away.

The woman behind the short counter was sewing a blue brook through mountains stitched on a stretched square of coarsely woven cloth. Some of the scenes were made up into pillows displayed on a rack to the back.

“Mistress, would you know if the gilder is here, today?”

The woman smiled up at her. “Sorry, but far as I know, he won’t be in today.”

“Oh, I see.” Thwarted by the disappointing news, Jennsen hesitated, not knowing what to do next. “Would you know when he will return, at least?”

The woman pushed her needle through, making a blue stitch of water. “No, can’t say as I do. Last time I saw him, over a week ago, he said he may not be back for a while.”

“Why is that? Do you know?”

“Can’t say as I do.” She pulled the long thread of the water out taut. “Sometimes he stays away for a spell, working at his gilding, doing up enough to make it worth his time to travel to the palace.”

“Would you happen to know where he lives?”

The woman glanced up from under a crinkled brow. “Why do you wish to know?”

Jennsen’s mind raced. She said the only thing she could think of—what she had learned from Irma, the sausage lady watching Betty for her. “I wish to go for a telling.”

“Ah,” The woman said, her suspicion fading as she pulled another stitch through. “It’s Althea, then, that yo

u really want to see.”

Jennsen nodded. “My mother took me to Althea when I was young. Since my mother…passed away, I’d like to visit Althea again. I thought it might be a comfort if I went for a telling.”

“Sorry about your mother, dear. I know what you mean. When I lost my mother, it was a hard time for me, too.”

“Could you tell me how to find Althea’s place?”

She set her sewing down and came to the low wall at the front of her booth. “It’s a goodly ways to Althea’s place—to the west, through a desolate land.”

“The Azrith Plains.”

“That’s right. Going west, the land turns rugged, with mountains. Around the other side of the largest snowcapped mountain due west of here, if you turn north, staying just the other side of the cliffs you will find, following the low land down lower yet, you will come into a nasty place. A swampy place. Althea and Friedrich live there.”

“In a swamp? But not in the winter.”

The woman leaned close and lowered her voice. “Yes, even in the winter, people say. Althea’s swamp. A vile place it is, too. Some say it isn’t a natural place, if you know what I mean.”

“Her…magic, you mean?”

She shrugged. “Some say.”

Jennsen nodded in thanks and repeated the directions. “Other side of the largest snowcapped peak west of here, stay below the cliffs and go north. Down in a swampy place.”

“A nasty, dangerous, swampy place.” The woman used a long fingernail to scratch her scalp. “But you don’t want to be going there unless you’re invited.”