“Then how is it answering Lord Rahl’s questions?” Cara asked. They all turned and looked at her. She flicked a hand out at the machine. “How is it managing to tell us what we want to know, to fill in some of the blanks as we go along?”
“We might merely be reading more into it than is warranted,” Zedd told her.
Cara looked unconvinced. “It says what it says. We are not making up or imagining the things it says.”
Zedd smoothed back his unruly mass of wavy white hair. “There is a children’s game called Ask the Oracle. It’s a small box with a round hole in the top. On the side are painted scenes of the oracle with mysterious mist curling around her as she communes with the spirit world. The box holds a number of answers already written out on small discs. A child will ask a question— like will I marry someone I love when I grow up, or does so-and-so really like me— and then reach into the box and pull out a disc with an answer printed on it. They then replace the disc and the box is shaken for the next player’s turn to select an answer to their question.”
“Really?” Cara looked skeptical. “And it actually works?”
“Pretty well, actually. The answers are things like ‘Most assuredly,’ or ‘Not unless something changes,’ or ‘The spirits say yes,’ or ‘The answer is in doubt,’ or ‘It seems likely,’ or ‘It won’t be,’ or ‘Ask again later when the spirits are willing to answer.’ You see, no matter what disc the child pulls out of the box, it seems to them like the box is directly answering the question they asked.
“But it’s just a trick of the human mind to think that the answers fit the question, that the oracle of the box hears their question and can answer it. We’re all gullible to some extent. The answers are general in nature, but because they often seem to be so accurate people think the oracle of the box really can reveal the answers.
“Some people believe wholeheartedly in the oracle in the box. Some people actually believe that they really do have some magical power, or some connection to the spirit world which guides their hand to select the correct disc. But there is no magic involved. It is a simple trick that the human mind plays on itself.”
Cara folded her arms. “So you think that this machine is simply a big elaborate trick?”
“I don’t know.” Zedd clasped his hand. “I’m just saying that we need to be cautious and not jump to conclusions. It’s often easy to believe in readymade answers.”
Richard didn’t think the explanation was that simple. “I don’t know, Zedd. There seems to be more to it.”
“Like what?”
“Well, the way the machinery starts up when it’s about to give terrible prophecies is distinctive. It starts abruptly, all at once. And another thing, the metal strips come out burning hot. But when it seems to be … I don’t know, communicating I guess you could say, then it starts gradually and the strips come out cool to the touch.
“We’ve been assuming that the strips that come out are the responsibility of the machine. I think that maybe two very different things are going on.”
“I agree,” Nicci said. “It could be that someone is using it, giving it something to say, possibly even forcing it to say certain things. When they force it to speak, the strips come out hot. When it speaks on its own the strips are cool.”
“You think the machine is being exploited?” Frowning, Zedd scratched his scalp. “Let’s assume for the moment that it’s true. Who do you think would be doing such a thing? And why?”
Richard leaned a hip on the machine. “What is our problem?”
Zedd shrugged. “Our problem?”
“Our problem,” he explained, “our reason for being down in this long-buried room with this exiled device, is prophecy. What does the machine do? Give prophecy. What has been central in all the recent deaths? Prophecy. What have all the representatives decided they must have? Prophecy. What has us running around in circles, always one step behind events? Prophecy from this machine.”
“We know all that.” Zedd arched an eyebrow. “Is there a point?”
Richard nodded. “Look at the way everyone’s interest in prophecy has escalated. The prophecies that this machine puts forth have been conveniently repeated through others all over the palace. That insures that everyone knows them, which gets everyone stirred up about the importance of prophecy. Rumor and then gossip about the existence of an ‘omen machine’ have been on every tongue. People think we’re keeping prophecy from them, that we don’t want them to be safe from harm.”
Zedd was paying closer attention. “What’s your theory?”
“It seems to me that someone is planting these seeds.” Richard leaned in a bit toward his grandfather. “What has made people believe all the more in prophecy?” With a finger, he tapped the machine. “The prophecies that have come from the machine which shortly all come true, happening exactly as they are foretold in the prophecy. That’s where it all started. It has become a ghoulish game— like that children’s game you describe but with bloody consequences.
“The prophecies always come true, so people believe in their importance all the more and they’re even more eager to know the next one. Because this machine fits their belief that prophecy knows their future, they demand from us to know what prophecy says. And as you told us, back in Aydindril, and I would bet everywhere else, prophecy is on everyone’s mind. You said that there is a brisk trade in the prophecy business. Doesn’t that strike you as rather strange?”
“It has from the first,” Zedd confirmed.
“Back here, the machine’s prophecies have convinced the representatives of all those people preoccupied with prophecy that we’re wrong, that prophecy really is as easy to understand as it sounds. They therefore can’t understand why we wouldn’t want to reveal the danger to their lives that is so easy to see in the prophecies they’ve heard. The prophecies from this machine have helped whip everyone into a frenzy of belief.”
“What would you expect? They’ve come true,” Zedd said.
“Have they? Have you ever known prophecy to be so clear-cut and easy to understand, so plainspoken and straightforward? Or to turn out just the way it says, and soon after it says it?”
Zedd looked away as he considered the question. “Actually, I can’t say that I have. Prophecy, in all my experience, is ambiguous at best. What’s more, it can often take centuries to come to pass. But these all happen soon after they are given.”
“That’s another reason why I’m so worried about the prophecy that says ‘The hounds will take her from you.’ The only thing I don’t understand is that the strip that said it wasn’t like the other dire predictions— it came on a cool strip of metal, not a hot one.”
Zedd met his gaze. “Perhaps that means it isn’t like the others. Perhaps this is a real prophecy that has a hidden meaning.”
Richard cast a sidelong glance at the machine. “Or it was a warning the machine wanted me to have. On top of that, it just said that darkness had found it, and it will find me as well, like it was warning me. The machine seems to have some kind of connection with me.”
Zedd nodded. “That part is certainly clear enough.”
“For the prophecies that come out on the hot strips, at least, we know there is no balance. They are all dire.”
Zedd frowned back at Richard. “So you’re saying that you don’t believe that those are legitimate prophecy?”
“You tell me. Now that everyone is caught up in this prophecy frenzy, who have they all turned to for what they want? Who have they sworn loyalty to in exchange for prophecy?”
“Hannis Arc,” Cara said.
Richard nodded. “And it just happens to be Abbot Dreier, from Fajin Province, who has told us and everyone else how Hannis Arc believes in using prophecy to help guide his rule, the same as all the representatives want to do. I think Hannis Arc, not real prophecy, could somehow be at the center of this.”
“Like you say, though, he’s off in Fajin Province.” Cara gestured at the machine. “How could he be
doing all of these things?”
“I don’t know,” Richard admitted. “But Abbot Dreier is here. Maybe he’s involved, somehow.”
Cara circled a finger skyward. “I thought that this place around the machine, the Garden of Life lying protectively over us, was a containment field. The whole point of a containment field is to prevent outside tampering with the dangerous magic inside. On top of that, the whole palace is made in the shape of a spell-form that weakens the gift of all gifted people in here except a Rahl.”
Zedd planted his fists on his hips and turned a look on Cara. “Now Mord-Sith have become experts in magic. What next?”
“A talking machine,” Nicci said.
Richard picked up a stack of metal strips from the tens of thousands piled against the wall and loaded it into the machine.
“So let’s let it talk.”
CHAPTER 72
When Richard had finished filling the bin with metal strips, he moved around to the other side, to where they came out. He didn’t think that it was necessary, but placed his hands on the machine anyway, just in case. Already internal shafts were spinning up to speed, levers clicking into place, and gears engaging. The machine’s emblem, rotating on the ceiling, brightened in lines of glowing orange light.
“Do you know who is responsible for the darkness that you say has come into you?” Richard said down at the machine. “Can you name the darkness?”
A strip pulled off the stack and made its way through the machine, passing over the focused beam of light that burned symbols in the language of Creation onto it. When Richard picked it out, all the symbol said was “Darkness.”
“That’s a big help,” Zedd muttered.
Richard ignored his grandfather and turned back to the machine. “Is darkness in you at the moment?”
Again the machine pulled a strip through.
“‘Darkness is not my purpose,’” Richard read from the strip.
Cara folded her arms. “It’s starting to sound like that oracle in a box giving us printed discs for answers.”
Richard ignored her as well. “Why are you doing this? Why are you speaking through these strips?”
When a strip came out, Richard read it aloud. “‘I am fulfilling my purpose, doing as I must.’”
“What is your purpose?” Richard asked immediately.
After the strip had passed through the machine and dropped in the bin, Richard noted that it was still cool. He looked at the symbols and then read the message aloud. “‘To fulfill my purpose.’”
Cara rolled her eyes. “No doubt about it, we have printed discs on our hands. Ask it if Ben really likes me. I’d like to hear what the spirits have to say.”
Richard ignored her taunt and tried a different line of questioning. “Who created you?”
The strip took a bit longer to pass under the light as the language of Creation burned a longer, more complex message into it. Finally, it dropped into the slot.
Richard held it up in the light to read it. “‘I was created by others. I had no choice in it.’”
Richard put a hand on the machine and leaned in toward it. “Why did these others create you?”
When the strip came out, Richard read it silently, then sighed in frustration before translating it for the others. “‘I was created to fulfill my purpose.’”
He tossed the strip on top of the machine. “Why does your purpose need to be fulfilled? Why is it important?”
The machine slowed to a stop.
In the silence, they all shared looks.
Richard thought that the conversation had ended, but then the gears started turning again, slowly at first, until it eventually built up to full speed. A tab on the wheel under the strips popped up and pushed out one from the stack of blanks, where it was grabbed by pincers on another wheel and pulled through the mechanism. Richard looked in through the window and saw the strip moving over the light to be inscribed. When it dropped into the slot he pulled the cool strip out and held it up in the light of the proximity spheres.
“‘Because prophecy cannot always be trusted.’”
“That’s true enough,” Zedd muttered unhappily.
Richard glanced at Zedd, then asked another question. “What do you mean, prophecy can’t be trusted? Why not?”
The machine pulled another strip from the stack. When it made its way through and dropped into the slot, Richard was waiting for it. He read it to the others.
“‘Prophecy grows old and corrupted over time.’”
Richard’s arm lowered. “But you are the one giving prophecy.”
Another strip ran through the machine and dropped into the slot.
“‘I am fulfilling my purpose, doing as I must. You must fulfill your purpose.’” Richard frowned at the machine. “My purpose? What is my purpose in all this?”
Everyone gathered closer as they waited for the next strip. Richard snatched it up when it finally dropped in the slot.
“It says, ‘To fulfill my purpose.’” Richard raked his fingers back through his hair as he walked a short distance away. “My purpose is to fulfill your purpose, which is to fulfill your purpose? That makes no sense. This is pointless. We’re just going around in circles.”
The machine slowly spun down.
“Tell me something I can use!” Richard yelled as he turned back to Regula. “Tell me how to protect Kahlan from the hounds that you said will take her from me!”
The machine did not answer.
After a long, dragging silence, Nicci laid a comforting hand on the back of his shoulder. “We all need to get some rest, Richard. This is getting us nowhere. We can revisit it later. You should get back up to Kahlan. That’s the best way to make sure that the prophecy doesn’t come true.”
Richard heaved a sigh of frustration. “You’re right.”
He didn’t know if the machine’s real purpose was to give prophecy, or if it had been created to do something else. They still had no idea who had created it, why it had been buried and forgotten, or even why it had so abruptly awakened from its dreams. He wasn’t even sure if he was convinced that someone could actually direct it. As confusing as the things it said were, he was beginning to wonder if darkness had really taken it over in the first place. He was beginning to think that it was just the machine being perverse. No wonder they had buried it. It was useless.
Zedd patted Richard on the back. “You’re the Seeker. I’m sure you will think of something, my boy.”
Richard turned away from the machine. “We’re not going to find the answers we need tonight. Like Nicci says, we all need to get some rest.”
Richard wasn’t through asking questions of the machine, but it was late, and he wanted to get back to Kahlan. He knew that after he’d slept on it, he would have more questions. Maybe if he could ask them in the right way he would be able to begin to understand why the machine had been created in the first place and what its real purpose was. But those questions would have to wait.
As they all headed for the stairs, the machine began to rumble into activity again. As they turned back and stared, it gradually came up to full speed. A strip was pulled off the bottom of the stack and through the inner workings.
Richard watched it drop into the slot. He was reluctant to bother to pick this one up and read it. He was tired of the game. He didn’t want to play along anymore. He thought that maybe he should leave the strip sitting in the machine until morning.
Before Richard could leave, Zedd pulled the metal strip out, glanced at the symbols, and then handed it to Richard. “It’s cool. What does it say?”
Richard reluctantly took the strip from Zedd and held it up in the light to read the circular symbols.
“‘Your only chance is to let the truth escape.’”
“What in the world could that mean?” Cara asked.
Richard clenched the strip in his fist. “It’s some kind of riddle. I hate riddles.”
CHAPTER 73
Kahlan woke, confused at feeling
herself rocking. She winced as she pressed a hand over the stunning pain at the top of her head. Her hair felt wet. She pulled her hand away to look at it, but it was too dark to see much other than wetness glistening in the moonlight.
She suspected that she knew all too well what it was. As she struggled up onto her knees she touched her tongue to her hand.
She was right; it was blood.
When she swallowed, her throat was so sore that it made her wince. She ached all over and was shivering with chills even though she was sweating profusely.
Her mind raced, trying to put the fragments of memories together, trying to recall exactly what had happened. Images and impressions flashed in sickening snatches. At the same time the whole world felt like it was moving.
When she was jolted and then bounced, she lost her balance and fell forward. She had to put a hand down to keep from falling over on her face. She felt rough wood. Looking around she realized that she was in a small open space in the back of a wagon. Both the pain throbbing inside her head and the sharp stinging pain at the top of her head made her woozy. She fought back the urge to be sick.
Suddenly, a big dog bounded up out of the darkness, slamming into the side of the wagon, startling her. It dropped back, unable to make it all the way into the wagon, but it hooked its front legs over the side and held on. The dog scrambled, stretching its neck to get its massive head inside, trying to get enough of its weight into the wagon to have the leverage to get all the way in.
Strings of frothy drool whipped from side to side as the animal, even while trying to climb into the wagon, growled and snapped at her.
Kahlan immediately kicked one of the dog’s legs off the edge of the wagon. The dog struggled but couldn’t hold on with one paw and fell off into the darkness.
The whole nightmare of what had happened up in the bedroom was starting to come back to her— fragments of it, anyway. She remembered, too, what had happened to Queen Catherine, what a pack of dogs had done to her. Kahlan also remembered the prophecy given by the woman Kahlan had taken with her power, the woman who had killed her own children to supposedly spare them a worse death. That woman had told Kahlan that she would suffer a grim fate. When Kahlan had asked what she was talking about, the woman had said, “Dark things stalking you, running you down. You won’t be able to escape them.”