She sat much quieter. "Yes. We don't have the power of a wizard, the male Han. The collar amplifies our power, so we may be stronger than the one wearing it. So we can teach them."
His voice was deep with anger. "Then you used it to give me pain, like the pain you did for real, when you were in the spell. Only it was stronger, and went on and on. Can the collar do that, too, Sister?"
She pulled a clump of grass to her side and began cleaning her hands with it, avoiding his glare. "Yes. But that was a vision, Richard. I wasn't really doing it."
"I told you to stop hurting me or I would put a stop to it. You wouldn't stop, so I called the sword's magic and broke the bond of the power holding me. You were furious. You said that I had made my last mistake. You said you were going to kill me for fighting you. You were going to kill me, Sister."
"I'm sorry, Richard," she whispered as she looked up, "that you had to suffer that." Her voice regained some of its strength. "So, what did you do to me... to the vision of me?"
He leaned over and touched the edge of his first finger to the side of her shoulder. "I cut you in half with the sword. Right here."
Her hands stopped; she was stone still. Some of the color had left her face. Finally, she regained her composure.
Richard picked at the clump of grass by his foot again. "I didn't want to do it, but I was positive you were going to kill me."
She tossed the grass aside. "I am sure you were, Richard. But that was only a vision. If it were real, it wouldn't have turned out that way. You would not have been able to do what you did."
"Who are you trying to convince, Sister? Me, or yourself?"
She met his glare. "The things you saw were not as they are in the real world. They were simply illusions."
Richard let it drop. He turned the stick with the rabbit to cook the other side, and slid the iron plate with the bannock to the side of the fire to let it cool.
"Anyway, when I saw you again, I didn't know if you were a vision, or real, but I truly hoped you were alive. I didn't want to kill you." He looked up and smiled. "Besides, I promised you that you would get through the Valley of the Lost."
She nodded. "Yes, you did. More desire than wisdom indeed."
"Sister, I was only doing what I could think of to survive. To help you survive, too."
She sighed and shook her head. "Richard, I know you are trying to do your best, but you must understand that what you think is best is not necessarily right. You are calling your Han without knowing what you are doing, or even realizing you are doing it. In so doing, you tempt danger you can't fathom."
"How was I using my Han?"
"Wizards make promises that their Han strives to keep. You promised me you would help me through the valley—save me. But in so doing, you have invoked prophecy."
Richard frowned. "I have given no prophecy."
"Not only given it, but used your Han without realizing it, used prophecy without knowing its form, to do something in the past to aid you in the future."
"What are you talking about?"
"You destroyed the horses' bits."
"I told you at the time why I did that. They are cruel."
She shook her head. "That is what I'm talking about. You think you did it for one reason, but it served another purpose. Your conscious mind is simply seeking to rationalize what your Han is doing. When we were running from the valley, I didn't believe in what you were doing, and I tried to turn my horse. Because he did not have a bit, I was unable to."
"So what?"
She leaned closer. "Destroying the bits in the past satisfied a need of a promise in the future. That was using prophecy. You are swinging the axe blindly."
Richard gave her a skeptical expression. "That's a stretch, Sister. Even for you."
"I know how the gift works, Richard."
Richard thought about it, and finally decided he didn't believe her, but decided, too, that he didn't want to argue with her about it. There were other things he wanted to know.
"Is your little book full? I haven't seen you writing in it."
"I sent a message yesterday, that we have come through the Valley. I have nothing else to write, that's all. The book is magic. With magic, we erase old messages. I erased all but two pages, but with what I added yesterday, there are now three pages full."
Richard tore off a corner of the hot bannock. "Who is the Prelate?"
"She charges the Sisters of the Light. She is..." Her eyes narrowed. "I have never mentioned her. How do you know of her?"
Richard licked the crumbs from his fingers. "I read it in your book."
Her hand flew to her belt, groping for the book. It was there, where it always was. "You have read my private writing! You have no right! I will..."
"You were dead at the time." Her mouth snapped shut, and he went on. "When I killed you, or the illusion of you, the book fell on the ground. I read it."
The tension left her muscles. "Oh. Well, that is simply part of the illusion. I told you, it is not as things are in life."
Richard tore off another corner of bannock. "There were only two pages with writing, just as the real book. Not until after we were through the Valley did you add the third. Back then, there were only two."
She watched him eating the bannock. "Illusion, Richard."
He looked up. "One page said: 'I am the Sister in charge of this boy. These directives are beyond reason if not absurd. I demand to know the meaning of these instructions. I demand to know upon who's authority they are given. — Yours in the service of the Light, Sister Verna Sauventreen.' The second page said: 'You will do as you are instructed, or suffer the consequences. Do not presume to question the orders of the Palace again. — In my own hand, The Prelate.'"
The Sister's face had drained of color. "You had no business reading something belonging to another."
"As I said, you were dead at the time. What instructions did they give you about me that made you so angry?"
The color came back to her face in a rush. "It has to do with a technically. It is nothing you would understand, and anyway, it is not your business."
Richard lifted an eyebrow. "Not my business? You claim you are only trying to help me, yet you have taken me prisoner, and you say it is not my business? I have this collar around my neck, and with it you can hurt me, perhaps kill me, and you say it is not my business? You tell me I must do the things you say, that I must take them on faith, even though that faith is shaken with every new thing I discover, yet it is not my business? You tell me that the illusion I saw was not as things are in the real world, yet I find
they are, and you tell me it is not my business?"
Sister Verna was silent. She watched him without emotion. Watched him, he thought, as if he was a bug in a box.
"Sister Verna, will you tell me one thing I have been wondering about?"
"If I can."
He pulled his legs up tighter under himself. He tried to keep any hostility out of his tone. "When you first saw me, you were surprised that I was grown. You thought that I would be young."
"That's right. We have ones at the Palace who can sense one born with the gift. But you were hidden from us, so it took us a very long time to find you."
"But you told me just the other day that you had spent over half your life away from the Palace, searching for me. If you have spent twenty odd years looking for me, how could you expect me to be young? You would have expected me to be grown, unless you didn't know I had been born, and started searching for me long before anyone at the Palace sensed me."
Her answer came in a cautious, quiet voice. "It is as you say. It has never happened this way before."
"So why would you come looking for me before any of you sensed one with the gift had been born?"
She chose her words carefully. "We didn't know precisely when you would be born, but we knew you would be, so we were sent in search."
"How did you know I would be born?"
"You are spoken of in prophecy."
Richard nodded. He wanted to know about this prophecy and why they thought he was so important, but he didn't want to stray from the trail he was following at the moment. "So you knew it might be many years before you found me?"
"Yes. We didn't know when you would be born. We were only able to narrow it to a range of decades."
"How are the Sisters who are to be sent chosen?"
"We are selected by the Prelate."
"You have no say in the matter?"
She tensed, as if suspicious she might accidentally be slipping her neck through a noose, yet was unable to keep from voicing her faith. "We work in the service of the Creator. We would have no reason to object. The whole purpose of the Palace is to help those with the gift. To be selected to save one with the gift is one of the greatest honors a Sister may receive."
"So, none of the others sent have ever had to give up so many years of their lives to rescue one with the gift?"