tg.stone of tears-第195节

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in　the　underworld；　so　he　can’t　open　the　gateway。　The　same　way　someone　in　this　world　could　not　open　it；　because　we　have　only　Additive　Magic。’
　
　Bumps　were　rising　on　Richard’s　arms。　‘But　someone　in　this　world；　someone　with　both　forms　of　magic；　could　open　the　gateway？’
　
　‘Well；　sure；’　Warren　stammered。　‘If　they　had　the　gateway。　But　it　has　been　lost　for　over　three　thousand　years。　It’s　gone。’　He　gave　Richard　a　self…assured　smile。　‘We’re　safe。’
　
　Richard　wasn’t　smiling。　He　grabbed　Warren’s　robes　in　both　hands　and　yanked　his　face　close。　‘Warren；　tell　me　the　gateway　isn’t　called　the　Magic　of　Orden。　Tell　me　the　gateway　isn’t　the　three　boxes　of　Orden。’
　
　Warren’s　eyes　slowly　expanded　to　the　size　of　gold　pieces。　‘Where　did　you　hear　that　name　for　it？’　he　whispered　in　a　disquieted　tone。　‘I’m　the　only　one　in　the　palace　besides　the　Prelate　and　two　other　Sisters　who　are　permitted　to　read　the　books　that　call　the　gateway　by　its　ancient　name。’
　
　Richard　gritted　his　teeth。　‘What　happens　if　one　of　the　boxes　is　opened？’
　
　They　can’t　be　opened；’　Warren　insisted。　They　can’t。　I　told　you；　it　takes　both　kinds　of　magic；　Additive　and　Subtractive；　to　open　a　box。’
　
　Richard　shook　him。　‘What　happens！’
　
　His　eyes　still　wide；　Warren　swallowed。　Then　the　gateway　between　the　worlds　is　opened。　The　veil　is　breached。　The　seal　is　off　the　Nameless　One。’
　
　And　the　Stone　of　Tears　would　be　in　this　world？’　Warren　nodded　as　Richard　tightened　his　grip　on　the　robes。　‘And　if　the　box　were　to　be　closed；　that　would　close　the　gateway？　Seal　the　breach？’
　
　‘No。　Well；　yes；　but　it　can　only　be　closed　by　one　with　the　gift。　It　takes　the　touch　of　magic　to　close　the　gateway。　But　if　one　with　the　gift　closes　the　box；　the　gateway；　then　it　ruptures　the　balance；　because　he　has　only　Additive　Magic；　and　the　Nameless　One　escapes　the　underworld。　More　correctly；　this　world　would　be　swallowed　into　the　world　of　the　dead。’
　
　Then　how　can　the　box　be　closed　to　keep　the　worlds　separated！’
　
　The　same　way　the　gateway　is　opened。　With　both　Additive　and　Subtractive　Magic。’
　
　And　what　about　the　Stone　of　Tears？’
　
　‘I　don’t　know。　I　would　have　to　study。’
　
　Then　you　better　study　fast。’
　
　‘Please；’　Warren　whined；　‘you　don’t　mean　that　you　know　where　the　boxes　are。　You　haven’t　found　them；　have　you？’
　
　‘Found　them？　The　last　time　I　saw　the　boxes；　one　was　opened；　about　to　suck　my　bastard　father　into　the　underworld。’
　
　Warren　fainted。
　
　
　CHAPTER　57
　
　Under　the　impotent　rays　of　the　late…day　sun；　an　old　woman　was　spreading　wood　ash　on　the　ice　covering　the　vast　expanse　of　stairs。　Kahlan　walked　past；　relieved　that　the　old　woman　didn’t　look　up　to　see　that　the　person　in　the　heavy　clothes；　white　fur　mantle；　and　carrying　a　pack　and　bow　was　the　Mother　Confessor　returned　to　Aydindril。
　
　She　was　in　no　mood　for　starting　a　celebration　tonight。　She　was　exhausted。　Already；　before　ing　home　to　the　palace；　she　had　climbed　up　to　the　Wizard’s　Keep　on　the　mountainside；　but　the　Keep　was　stone　cold　and　dark　as　death。　The　shields　were　in　place；　though　a　Confessor　could　enter；　but　no　one　was　inside。
　
　Zedd　was　not　there。
　
　The　Keep　sat　now　as　the　last　time　she　had　seen　it　so　many　months　ago；　when　she　had　left　to　find　the　missing　great　wizard。　She　had　found　him；　and　helped　stop　the　threat　from　Darken　Rahl；　but　now　she　needed　the　great　wizard　again。
　
　Since　leaving　the　Galean　army　nearly　a　month　before；　she　had　been　struggling　to　reach　Aydindril；　and　Zedd。　Storms　had　raged　for　days　at　a　time。　Passes　had　been　rendered　impassable　by　the　weather　and　snow；　forcing　them　to　backtrack　and　find　alternate　routes。　It　had　been　a　frustrating　and　tiring　journey；　but　the　despair　at　reaching　her　goal　and　not　finding　Zedd　was　withering。
　
　Kahlan　had　made　her　way　through　the　side　streets；　avoiding　Kings　Row。　The　palaces　on　Kings　Row　housed　dignitaries；　staffs；　and　guards　of　the　lands　that　were　represented　in　Aydindril。　The　kings　and　queens　and　rulers　of　those　lands　stayed　in　their　palaces　when　they　came　to　address　the　council。　The　palaces　were　a　matter　of　pride　for　each　land；　and　each　was　magnificent；　although　none　could　begin　to　pare　to　the　Confessors’　Palace。
　
　Kahlan　had　avoided　Kings　Row　because　she　would　be　recognized　there；　and　she　didn’t　want　to　be　recognized　right　now；　she　wanted　only　to　find　Zedd　and；　failing　that；　speak　to　the　council；　so　she　headed　toward　the　service　area　to　the　side；　near　the　kitchens。
　
　Chandalen　was　out　in　the　forest。　He　didn’t　want　to　e　into　Aydindril；　the　size　of　the　city　and　the　multitudes　of　people　made　him　uneasy；　though　he　denied　it；　and　claimed　only　to　be　more　fortable　sleeping　outside。　Kahlan　couldn’t　blame　him；　after　being　alone　in　the　mountains　for　so　long；　she；　too；　was　uneasy　going　into　the　city；　even　though　she　had　grown　up　in　this　place　and　knew　its　streets　and　majestic　buildings　as　well　as　Chandalen　knew　the　plains　around　the　Mud　People　village。　The　people　everywhere　made　her　feel　closed　in　as　never　before。
　
　Chandalen　wanted　to　go　home　to　his　people；　now　that　she　was　delivered　safely　to　Aydindril。　She　could　understand　his　desire　to　be　off；　but　asked　him　to　rest　the　night；　and　say　good…bye　to　her　in　the　morning。
　
　She　had　told　Orsk　to　spend　the　night　with　Chandalen。　His　presence　was　wearing；　his　one　eye　following　her　everywhere；　his　jumping　to　help　her　with　everything；　his　constantly　standing　ready　to　do　her　bidding　at　the　slightest　indication。　It　was　like　having　a　dog　continually　at　heel。　She　needed　a　night　away　from　that。　Chandalen　seemed　to　understand。　She　didn’t　know　what　she　was　going　to　do　about　Orsk。
　
　A　stifling　blast　of　warm　air　hit　her　as　she　went　in　through　the　kitchen　entrance。　At　the　sound　of　the　door；　a　thin　woman　in　a　sparkling　white　apron　spun　to　her。
　
　‘What　are　you　doing　in　here！　Get　out；　you　beggar！’
　
　As　the　woman　lifted　her　wooden　spoon　in　a　threatening。　manner；　Kahlan　pushed　back　the　hood　of　her　mantle。　The　woman　gasped。　Kahlan　smiled。
　
　‘Mistress　Sanderholt。　I’m　so　pleased　to　see　you　again。’
　
　‘Mother　Confessor！’　The　woman　fell　to　her　knees；　clasping　her　hands　together。　‘Oh；　Mother　Confessor；　forgive　me！　I　didn’t　recognize　you。　Oh；　good　spirits　be　praised；　is　it　really　you？’
　
　Kahlan　pulled　the　wiry　woman　to　her　feet。　‘I’ve　missed　you　so；　Mistress　Sanderholt。’　Kahlan　held　out　her　arms。　‘Give　me　a　hug？’
　
　Mistress　Sanderholt　fell　into　Kahlan’s　arms。　‘Oh；　child；　It’s　so　good　to　see　you！’　She　pushed　away；　tears　running　down　her　face。　‘We　didn’t　know　what　had　bee　of　you。　We　were　so　worried。　I　thought　I　might　never　see　you　again。’
　
　‘It　has　been　a　long　and　difficult　time。　I　can’t　tell　you　how　good　it　is　to　see　your　face　again。’
　
　Mistress　Sanderholt　started　pulling　Kahlan　toward　a　side　table。　‘e。　You　need　a　bowl　of　soup。　I　have　some　on　now；　if　these　featherbrains　who　do　what　scarcely　passes　for　cooking　haven’t　ruined　it　with　too　much　pepper。’
　
　The　welter　of　cooks　and　help　caught　the　words　and　kept　their　heads　down；　applying　their　attention　to　their　tasks。　The　sounds　of　whisks　and　spoons　on　bowls　stepped　up。　Men　picked　up　sacks　and　hurried　away。　Brushes　worked　at　pots　with　greater　zeal。　Butter　hissed　in　hot　pans；　and　bread　in　ovens　and　meat　on　spits　suddenly　needed　checking。
　
　‘I　don’t　have　time；　right　now；　Mistress　Sanderholt。’
　
　‘But　I　have　things　I　must　tell　you。　Important　things。’
　
　‘I　know。　I　have　things　to　tell　you；　too。　But　right　now　I　must　see　the　council。　It’s　urgent。　I’ve　been　traveling　a　long　time；　and　I’m　exhausted；　but　I　must　see　the　council　before　I　rest。　We　will　talk　tomorrow。’
　
　Mistress　Sanderholt　couldn’t　resist　another　hug。　‘Of　course；　child。　Rest　well。　We　will　talk　tomorrow。’
　
　Kahlan　took　the　shortest　route；　through　the　immense　hall　used　for　important　ceremonies　and　celebrations。　Fires　in　the　large；　magnificent　fireplaces　set　around　the　room　between　fluted　columns　sent　shadows　of　herself　spiraling　around　her　as　she　crossed　the　green　slate　floor。　The　room　was　empty；　now；　allowing　her　footsteps　to　echo　overhead　from　the　intricate　lierne　vaulting　with　the　wavelike；　sweeping　ribs。　Her　father　used　to　set　thousands　of　walnuts　and　acorns；　representing　troops；　all　over　the　floor　of　this　room；　to　teach　her　battle　tactics。
　
　She　turned　down　the　hall　at　the　far　end；　toward　the　corridor　to　the　council　chambers。　In　the　Confessors’　private　gallery；　groups　of　four　glossy　black　marble　columns　to　each　side　supported　a　progression　of　polychrome　vaults。　At　the　end；　before　the　council　chambers；　was　a　round；　two…story…high　pantheon　dedicated　to　the　memory　of　heroines：　the　founding　Mother　Confessors。　Their　portraits；　in　frescoes　between　the　seven　massive　pillars　ranging　to　the　skylight；　were　twice　life　size。
　
　Kahlan　always　felt　like　a　pretender　to　the　post　in　the　presence　of　the　seven　stern　faces　that　overlooked　the　room。　She　felt　they　were　saying；　‘And　who　are　you；　Kahlan　Amnell；　to　think　you　could　be　the　Mother　Confessor？’　Knowing　the　histories　of　those　heroines　only　made　her　feel　all　the　more　inadequate。
　
　Grabbing　both　brass　levers；　she　threw　the　tall；　mahogany　doors　open