The Pillars of Creation by Terry Goodkind Read Free Book Online

drew a smaller circle that touched the insides of the square.
    As she worked, she murmured prayers under her breath, asking the good spirits to guide her hand. It seemed the right thing to do. She knew that Sebastian could hear her soft singsong, but not make out the words. It occurred unexpectedly to her that it must be something like the voices she heard in her own head. Sometimes, when she drew the outer circle, she heard the whisper of that dead voice call her name.
    Opening her eyes from the prayer, she drew an eight-pointed star, its rays piercing all the way through the inner circle, the square, and then the outer circle. Every other ray bisected a corner of the square.
    The rays were said to represent the gift of the Creator, so as she drew the eight-pointed star, Jennsen always whispered a prayer of thanks for the gift of her mother.
    When she finished and looked up, her mother was standing before her, as if she had risen from the shadows, or materialized from the edge of the drawing itself, to be lit by the leaping flames of the fire behind Jennsen. In the light of those flames, her mother was like a vision of some impossibly beautiful spirit.
    “Do you know what this drawing represents, young man?” Jennsen’s mother asked in a voice hardly more than a whisper.
    Sebastian stared up at her, the way people often stared when they first saw her, and shook his head.
    “It’s called a Grace. They have been drawn by those with the gift of magic for thousands of years—some say since the dawn of Creation itself. The outer circle represents the beginning of the eternity of the underworld, the Keeper’s world of the dead. The inner circle is the extent of the world of life. The square represents the veil that separates both worlds—life from death. It touches both at times. The star is the light of the gift from the Creator Himself—magic—extending through life and crossing over into the world of the dead.”
    The fire crackled and hissed as Jennsen’s mother, like some spectral figure, towered over the two of them. Sebastian said nothing. Her mother had spoken the truth, but it was truth used to convey a specific impression that was not true.
    “My daughter has drawn this Grace as protection for you as you rest this night, and as protection for us. There is another before the door to the house.” She let the silence drag before adding, “It would be unwise to cross either without our consent.”
    “I understand, Mrs. Daggett.” In the firelight, his face showed no emotion.
    His blue eyes turned to Jennsen. A hint of a smile came to his lips, even though his expression remained serious. “You are a surprising woman, Jennsen Daggett. A woman of many mysteries. I will sleep safely, tonight.”
    “And well,” Jennsen’s mother said. “Besides the dinner, I brought some herbs to help you sleep.”
    Her mother, holding the bowl full of fried fish in one hand, collected Jennsen with a hand on her shoulder and guided her around to the back of the fire to sit beside her, on the opposite side of her from Sebastian. By the sober look on his face, their demonstration had had the desired effect.
    Her mother glanced at Jennsen and gave her a smile Sebastian couldn’t see. Jennsen had done well.
    Holding the bowl out, her mother offered Sebastian some fish, saying, “I would like to thank you, young man, for the help you gave Jennsen, today.”
    “Sebastian, please.”
    “So Jennsen has told me.”
    “I was glad to help. It was helping myself, too, really. I’d not like to have D’Haran soldiers chasing me.”
    She pointed. “If you would accept it, this one on top is coated with the herbs that will help you sleep.”
    He used his knife to stab the darker piece of fish coated in the herbs. Jennsen took another on her own knife after first wiping the blade clean on her skirts.
    “Jennsen tells me that you are from outside D’Hara.”
    He glanced up as he chewed. “That’s right.”
    “I find that hard to