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Besides, she realized that she needed to know what the man was up to, what his “life’s work” was all about, and what he was doing at the abbey. She could tell that it wouldn’t take a lot to encourage him to reveal such things about himself.
“I’m sorry, Abbot, but falling from a cliff and being caught at the last possible instant before smacking the ground is all new to me. I’m afraid that if you have some purpose in doing it, that purpose is lost on me.”
He dispensed with the smile as he leaned in toward her. “Right there, at the end, right at that last instant before you knew with absolute certainty that you were about to die, did you have any revelations? Any last thoughts? Any memories of the meaning of your life? In rare near-death encounters, many people say that they experience in a single instant the entirety of their life—see it all.
“So, I was wondering what your last thoughts were in that final instant before you knew that you were about to die.”
Kahlan had to look away from his eyes. She stared out the window instead, watching the endless expanse of trees and limbs flash past the coach.
“Well?” he asked. “What last thought did you have?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” she said in a quiet voice without looking at him.
They rode in silence for a moment.
“In that case,” he finally said, “why don’t you explain it to me.”
She knew it was not simple curiosity. It was a request she dared not ignore.
“I experienced the total and complete feelings I have for my husband.”
He held up a finger. “Ah, love.”
She was about to say that he wouldn’t know what love really was, but decided not to waste the effort.
“Well, you see, the thing is,” he went on as he picked at one of his fingernails, “we have learned, through our abilities with occult powers, how to alter that experience.”
Kahlan’s eyes turned to him. “Alter the ‘experience’? The ‘experience’ of death? What do you mean?”
“In that last instant before death—real, certain death, actual death—people experience many different things. They may experience regret, paralyzing fear, love, even the instantaneous memory of the sum of their entire life, as I hear it told. That sort of thing.”
“So?”
“Well, you see, we—by we, I mean I, of course—I have learned through long experimentation and effort how to alter that experience so that those about to pass through the veil and into the world of the dead are able to do something useful for those of us remaining behind in the world of life.”
Kahlan frowned, now sincerely curious.
“Useful? What could you possibly get from people right before they die that is useful to you?”
His smile returned, but this time there was no amusement in it, no gloating. It was as malevolent a look as she had ever seen.
“Prophecy.”
CHAPTER
64
Kahlan was stunned. “Prophecy?”
“Yes. We get prophecy.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, you see,” he said as he leaned back, “when altered through my abilities near the end of life, that life remaining within a person, the life that is draining away, is altered so that in that last, singular instant when they are crossing over through the veil, for that brief flicker of time when they are still holding on to life and at the same time touching death, rather than seeing their life’s experiences, or feeling some sense of loss, or even feelings of love, they instead, because of the changes I’ve made within them, as they touch the timeless world of the dead they are able to tap into that same flow of time that prophets experience.
“In that extraordinary moment, connected to the convergence of life and death, they are able to see the sweep of time, stand in its flow, and thus give forth prophecy, the same as a genuine prophet.”
Kahlan was horrified. “You think that you can somehow use occult powers to get prophecy out of people as they are dying?”
He shot her a condescending look. “It is a process I created and developed, thoroughly understand, and control. There is no speculation involved.”
“And you’ve done this before? You intend to do it again?”
“That is the purpose of the abbey. There I use this process to collect prophecies and then deliver them to Lord Arc. Lord Arc uses prophecy, you see, to guide him.”
Kahlan stared in disbelief. “Are you saying that you take people to the abbey and murder them so that they will cry out prophecy to you as they’re dying? You murder people in the hope that with their last dying breath they will give you a prophecy?”
“Murder? No, not exactly. We are harvesting prophecy from the great abyss of eternity. We are reaping what is there for those who know how to obtain it.”
“Through murder.”
He dismissed the charge with a gesture. “The people chosen to help us in this great work are not murder victims. To the contrary. It is an honor for them that they have been chosen to give their lives to such a noble cause. They may not be able to realize that right then, of course, but they are heroic people sacrificing their lives for the benefit of others.”
“That’s madness,” Kahlan whispered.
“Madness? No, not at all,” he said, prickling at the suggestion. “The sacrifice of these few is all done for the greater good of the many. It is brilliant both in its conception and in its execution.”
“‘Execution’ is the right word,” Kahlan said. “Execution plain and simple for your twisted cause.”
He gave her a testy look. “You do the same thing.”
“We do no such thing and you know it.”
“You who use prophecy. Those at the People’s Palace use it—those like your husband who collect and hoard the life’s work of prophets who have tapped that great flow of time from beyond, as I am doing, only to keep that precious prophecy in secret libraries so as to use it to control the lives of others rather than benefit those lives. Those who give prophecy—prophets—are also giving their lives into such prophecy, no less than those at the abbey, and you suck dry that effort for selfish reasons, not for the common good as it is intended by the Creator.”
Kahlan knew better than to say anything.
He leaned forward and pointed a finger at her. “You and Lord Rahl keep prophecy to yourselves in order use it as a weapon to enslave people.
“We, on the other hand, use the prophecy we gather from those who make such a final sacrifice in order to help guide the lives of our people. We use such prophecy to guide the people of Fajin Province, we don’t hide it from them as you and Lord Rahl do for selfish gain. Prophecy rightly belongs to everyone, not just the few.
“And now others in other lands have asked to join with us and benefit from the insights we gain from prophecy.”
Kahlan didn’t bother to try to argue with such madness. She was sick to death of trying to make people understand how prophecy worked, and how it did not work. She was disheartened with the lands that had left the D’Haran Empire to follow Hannis Arc for promises of prophecy freely given to them.
In the end, people believed what they wanted to believe. The truth had very little to do with it.
“You have been chosen to contribute to this great work,” he said at last as he finally leaned back in his seat. “You will in the end be one of those who gives prophecy to those who need it. Because of your renown, prominence, and birthright as a Confessor, we expect remarkable prophecy from you.”
Kahlan glanced at the Mord-Sith and then back at the abbot. “So you’re going to kill me. Big surprise. Evil men have been killing innocent people since the dawn of time.
“You are going to chop off my head, expecting me to babble prophecy first? Fine, just don’t try to convince yourself that I lay my head on the block willingly. It will be a simple act of murder, nothing more, and certainly not noble.”
He dismissed her words with a wave and a sour expression.
“It’s not that simple,” the Mord-Sith said with a knowing smile.
“Not that simple,” Kahlan repeated. “And why not? You said that you kill people so that they will give prophecy right as they’re dying. That may be lunacy, but it is simple lunacy.”
“No, you misunderstand,” she said. “I meant that the process is not that simple.”
“They must be prepared, first,” Abbot Dreier put in with a kind of twisted zeal.
“Prepared? How do you prepare them to be murdered?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Torture.”
Kahlan stared back. “You torture people at the abbey.”
“That is the function of the facility—to process people on their path to giving their gift of prophecy. It is through torture that people are properly brought to that cusp of life and death and held there at the boundary between worlds until they are finally ready to accept into themselves what we offer them.”
