Stone of Tears by Terry Goodkind

of the Prophecies. The others, though, would not be pleased. This meant years of work.
    Some Prophecies were “if” and “then” prophecies, bifurcating into several possibilities. There were Prophecies that followed each branch, Prophecies to foretell events of each fork, since not even the Prophecies always knew which events would come to pass.
    Once one of these kind of Prophecies came to pass and resolved which fork was to be true, and one of the alternatives took place, a Prophecy had forked, as it was called. All the Prophecies that followed down the path that had been voided, now became false Prophecies. These themselves multiplied, like the branches of a tree, clogging the sacred Prophecies with confusing, contradicting, and false information. Once a fork had occurred, the Prophecies they now knew to be false had to be followed as far as could be traced, and pulled out.
    It was a formidable task. The further the event in question was from the fork, the more difficult it was to know if it was of the false fork, or of the true. Worse, it was difficult to tell if two Prophecies, one following another, belonged together, or if they were to happen a thousand years apart. Sometimes the events themselves helped them to decipher where it was to be placed chronologically, but only sometimes. The further in time from the fork, the more difficult was the task of relating them.
    The effort would take years, and even then, they could be sure only of accomplishing part of it. To this day, they could not know with confidence if they were reading a true Prophecy, or the descendant of a false fork in the past. For this reason, some considered the Prophecies unreliable at best, useless at worst. But if they now knew of a fork, and more importantly, knew the true and the false branches, they would have a valuable guide.
    She sank back into the chair. “How important is the Prophecy that forked?”
    “It is a core Prophecy. There could be none more important.”
    Decades. It wouldn’t take years, it would take decades. A core Prophecy touched almost everything. Her insides fluttered. This was like going blind. Until the tainted fruit of the false fork could be culled, they couldn’t trust anything.
    She looked up into his eyes. “You do know which it was that forked?”
    He smiled proudly. “I know the false fork, and the true. I know what his come to pass.”
    Well, at least there was that. She felt a ripple of excitement. If Nathan could tell her which fork was true, and which was false, and the nature of each branch, it would be valuable information indeed. Since the Prophecies were not in chronological order, there was no way to simply follow a branch, but this would be a very good start: they would know right where to begin. Better yet, they had learned of it as it happened, and not years later.
    “You have done well, Nathan.” He grinned like a child who had pleased his mother. “Bring a chair close, and tell me of the fork.”
    Nathan seemed drawn up in the excitement as he pulled a chair to the side of the desk. He flounced down in it, squirming like a puppy with a stick. She hoped she wouldn’t have to hurt him to get this stick out of his mouth.
    “Nathan, can you tell me the Prophecy that has forked?”
    His eyes twinkled with mischief. “Are you sure you want to know, Sister Margaret? Prophecies are dangerous. The last time I told one to a pretty lady, thousands died. You said so yourself.”
    “Nathan, please. It’s late. This is very important.”
    The mirth left his face. “I don’t remember the words, exactly.”
    She doubted the truth of that; When it came to Prophecies Nathan’s mind saw the words as if they were written on a stone tablet. She put a reassuring hand on his arm. “That is to be understood. I know it is difficult to remember every word. Tell it as best you can.”
    “Well, let’s see.” He looked at the ceiling as he stroked his chin with his thumb and finger tips. “It is the one