The Pillars of Creation by Terry Goodkind Read Free Book Online Page A

believe. D’Hara is bordered by impassable boundaries. In my lifetime no one has been able to come into, or leave, D’Hara. How is it possible, then, that you have?”
    With his teeth, Sebastian pulled the chunk of herb-coated fish off his knife. He inhaled between his teeth to cool the bite. He gestured around with the blade as he chewed. “How long have you been out here alone in this great wood? Without seeing people? Without news?”
    “Several years.”
    “Oh. Well, then, I guess it makes sense that you wouldn’t know, but since you’ve been out here, the barriers have come down.”
    Jennsen and her mother both took in this staggering, nearly incomprehensible news in silence. In that silence, they both dared to begin to imagine the heady possibilities. For the first time in Jennsen’s life, escape seemed conceivable. The impossible dream of a life of their own suddenly seemed only a journey away. They had been traveling and hiding their whole life. Now it seemed the journey might at last be near the end.
    “Sebastian,” Jennsen’s mother said, “why did you help Jennsen today?”
    “I like to help people. She needed help. I could tell how much that man scared her, even though he was dead.” He smiled at Jennsen. “She looked nice. I wanted to help her. Besides,” he finally admitted, “I don’t much care for D’Haran soldiers.”
    When she gestured by lifting the bowl toward him, he stabbed another piece of fish. “Mrs. Daggett, I’m liable to fall asleep before long. Why don’t you just tell me what’s on your mind?”
    “We are hunted by D’Haran soldiers.”
    “Why?”
    “That’s a story for another night. Depending on the outcome of this night, you may yet learn it, but for now all that really matters is that we are hunted—Jennsen more so than me. If the D’Haran soldiers catch us, she will be murdered.”
    Her mother made it sound simple. He would not let it be so simple. It would be much more grisly than any mere murder. Death would be a reward gained only after inconceivable agony and endless begging.
    Sebastian glanced over at Jennsen. “I’d not like that.”
    “Then we three are of a single mind,” her mother murmured.
    “That’s why the two of you are good friends with those knives you keep at hand,” he said.
    “That’s why,” her mother confirmed.
    “So,” Sebastian said, “you fear the D’Haran soldiers finding you. D’Haran soldiers aren’t exactly a rarity. The one today gave you both a scare. What makes you both fear this one, today, so much?”
    Jennsen added a stout stick to the fire, glad to have her mother to do the talking. Betty bleated for a carrot, or at least attention. The chickens grumbled about the noise and light.
    “Jennsen,” her mother said, “show Sebastian the piece of paper you found on the D’Haran soldier.”
    Taken aback, Jennsen waited until her mother’s eyes turned her way. They shared a look that told Jennsen her mother was determined to take this chance, and if she was to try, then they had to at least tell him some of it.
    Jennsen drew the crumpled piece of paper from her pocket and handed it past her mother to Sebastian. “I found this in that D’Haran soldier’s pocket.” She swallowed at the ghastly memory of seeing a dead person. “Just before you showed up.”
    Sebastian pulled the crumpled paper open, smoothing it between a thumb and finger as he cast them both a suspicious look. He turned the paper toward the firelight so he could see the two words.
    “Jennsen Lindie,” he said, reading it from the piece of paper. “I don’t get it. Who’s Jennsen Lindie?”
    “Me,” Jennsen said. “At least it was for a while.”
    “For a while? I don’t understand.”
    “That was my name,” Jennsen said. “The name I used, anyway, a few years back, when we lived far to the north. We move around often—to keep from being caught. We change our name each time so it will be harder to track us.”
    “Then…Daggett is