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Verna pushed the book away, unable to read more of the words. Her head fell to her folded arms as she sobbed. Though she didn’t recall the nature of the injustice of which the Prelate spoke, she remembered the sting of it, and her anger. Mostly, she remembered the Prelate’s smile, and how it made the world right again.
“Oh, dear Creator,” Verna wept aloud, “you truly have a fool for a servant.”
If she had felt heartache before, for thinking the Prelate had used her, she now felt agony over the anguish the Prelate had had to endure. When she was finally able to bring her tears to a halt, she pulled the little book back before her and read on.
But the past is past, and we must now go on with what must be done. The prophecies say that the greatest danger now lies before us. The tests that have come before would have ended the world of life in a final, terrible flash. In an instant, all would be irrecoverably lost. Richard passed those tests, and kept us from that fate.
Now a greater trial is upon us. It is not from other worlds, but from our own. This is a battle for the future of our world, the future of mankind, and the future of magic. In this, in the struggle for the minds and hearts of men, there is no final flash, no instant end, but the inexorable, grinding struggle of war, as the shadow of enslavement slowly creeps across the world, and darkens the spark of magic, through which comes the Creator’s light.
The ancient war, started thousands of years ago, is again aflame. We, in protecting this world from others, have unavoidably brought it to pass. This time, there will be no cessation of war because of the efforts of hundreds of wizards. This time, we have only one war wizard to lead us. Richard.
I cannot tell you all of it now. Some, I simply do not know, and as much as it pains me to have to leave you in the dark about some things I do know, understand that because of forks in prophecies that must be correctly taken, it is necessary that some of the people involved act instinctively, and not by instruction. To do otherwise would make the correct forks impassable. Part of our job is to hope to teach people to act in the right way, so that when the test comes, they will do what must be done. Forgive me, Verna, but I must once again trust some things to the fates.
I hope that you are learning, as Prelate, that you cannot always explain everything to others, but that you must sometimes simply give them a task, and expect them to do it.
Verna sighed. She knew the truth of that. She, herself, had given up on trying to explain everything all the time, and had started to simply ask that instructions be carried out as spoken.
Some things, though, I can and must tell you so you can help us. Nathan and I have gone on a mission of vital importance. For now, only he and I can know its nature.
Should I live, I intend to return to the palace. Before then, you must find out who are loyal Sisters of the light, novices, and young men. You must also identify all who have given their souls to the Keeper.
“What!” Verna heard herself say aloud. “How can I do that!”
I leave it up to you to find a way. You don’t have a lot of time. This is important, Verna; it must be before Emperor Jagang arrives.
Nathan and I believe Jagang is what was called in the ancient war, a “dream walker.”
Verna felt the sweat between her shoulder blades trickle down her spine. She recalled her talk with Sister Simona, and how the woman had screamed uncontrollably a the mere mention of Jagang’s name. Sister Simona said that Jagang came to her in her dreams. Everyone thought Sister Simona was crazy.
Warren, too, had spoken of the dream walker, and that in the old war they were a form of weapon. Their visit to Sister Simona had confirmed what he believed.
Above all else, remember this: No matter what happens, your only salvation is to remain loyal to Richard. A dream walker can take just about anyone’s mind and enslave them to his will—those with the gift more so than others. There is only one protection—Richard. An ancestor of his created a magic that protects them and any loyal to them, bonded in cause to them, from the power of the dream walkers. This magic is passed down to any Rahl born with the gift. Nathan, of course, has this same protective element to his gift, but he is not the one who can lead us. He is a prophet, and not a war wizard.
Verna could read between the lines that being a loyal follower of Nathan would be madness. The man was lightning itself in a collar.
By going against palace law of your own free will and helping Richard escape, you became bonded to him. This bond protects you from the power of the dream walker, but not from his waking force of arms and minions. This is part of the reason I had to deceive you that day in my office. It made you, of your own free will, choose to help Richard over your training and orders.
Goose bumps ran up Verna’s arms. Had she convinced the Prelate to reveal her plans, telling Verna to help Richard escape, then she would have been as vulnerable as Sister Simona to the dream walker.
Nathan is protected, of course, and I have been bonded to Richard for a good long time. I pledged myself to him when I first saw him. In my own way, I have been letting him set his own rules as to how he fights for our side. At times, I must tell you, it is difficult. Though he does as is needed to protect the innocent, free people who need his help, he has a mind of his own, and does things that, if I had my way, he would not do. At times, he can be as much of a trial as Nathan. Such is life.
I am finished telling you what I had to reveal. I am sitting here in a room in a cozy inn, waiting for you to read this. When you have read this message over as many times as you wish, I’ll be waiting here should you wish to ask me anything. You must understand that I have had hundreds of years working at events and prophecies, and there is no way I can impart all that knowledge to you in one night, much less in a journey book, but I will tell you what I can of what you wish to know.
Also, you must understand that there are certain things I cannot tell you for fear of tainting prophecy and events. Every word I tell you carries a danger o
f that, though some more than others, but it is necessary that you know some of it.
With these things in mind, I await your questions. Ask.
Verna sat up straight at the end of the writing. Ask? It would take a hundred years to ask all she wanted to know. Where was she to start? Dear Creator, what were the important questions?
She read the entire message again, to be sure she hadn’t missed anything, and then sat, staring at the blank page beyond. Finally, she picked up the stylus.
My dearest Mother, I beg you forgive me the things I thought of you. I am humbled by your strength, and shamed by my foolish pride. Please don’t get yourself killed. I am not worthy to be Prelate. I am an ox that you are asking to soar like a bird.
Verna sat, watching the book for the return message to appear if the Prelate really was waiting.
Thank you, child. You have lightened my heart. Ask what you need to know, and if I can, I will answer your questions. I will sit here all night, if I can help you with your burden.
Verna smiled for the first time in days. This time, the tears were sweet, and not bitter.
Prelate, are you truly safe? Is everything well with you and Nathan?
Verna, perhaps you enjoy having your friends calling you Prelate, but I do not. Please call me by my name, as all my true friends do.
Verna laughed out loud. She, too, was frustrated that people insisted on calling her “Prelate.” Words continued to appear as Ann’s message went on.
And yes, I am fine, as is Nathan, who is presently occupied. Today he bought himself a sword, and is now having a sword fight with invisible enemies in our room. He thinks a sword will make him look “dashing.” He is a thousand-year-old child, and, at this moment, is grinning like a child as he lops the heads off his invisible foes.
