It was all he could do to hold Cara down.
At that moment, the Mord-Sith was more of a threat to Kahlan's life
than Nicci was. If Nicci intended to kill Kahlan, he was sure she could have
already done so. Richard might not have understood specifically what Nicci
was doing, but by what he had already seen, he grasped the general nature of
it.
Blood dripped down onto Cara's bare chest, vivid red against the
expanse of her white skin.
"Cara, stop!" His jaw worked, if painfully, so he reasoned it wasn't
broken. "It's me. Stop. You'll kill Kahlan." Cara stilled under him, staring
up in angry confusion. "What you do to Nicci happens to Kahlan, too."
"You had better listen to him," Nicci said from behind him in that
velvety voice of hers.
Cara reached up when Richard released her wrists and touched the side
of his mouth. "I'm sorry," she whispered, realizing what she had done. Her
tone told him she meant it. Richard nodded and then stood, pulling her up by
her hand before rounding on Nicci.
Nicci stood tall, in that proud and proper posture she had. Her
attention and her magic was focused on Kahlan. The calm but violent power
from within him had awakened, waiting to be commanded. Richard didn't know
how to use it to stop Nicci. He held back, fearing that anything he did
would only make Kahlan's peril worse.

Kahlan was on her feet, too, but once again pinned to the wall of the
house by the milky rope of light. Her green eyes were wide with the
trembling torment of whatever it was Nicci was doing.
Nicci's hands lifted. She laid her palms to her heart, over the light.
Her back was to Richard, but he could see the light through her, like fire
eating through the center of a piece of paper, the incandescent hole
expanding outward, appearing to consume her. The twisting flare of light was
doing the same thing to Kahlan, seeming to burn through her, yet Richard
could see that she was not being killed by it. She was still breathing,
still moving, still alive-not reacting at all the way a person would if they
were really having holes burned through them. With magic, he knew better
than to believe his eyes.
At the center of Nicci's chest, under her hands, she began to become
solid again, re-forming where the light had spent itself in glowing rays
working out toward the edges of her.
The light cut off. Kahlan, her own hands pressed to the wall behind
her, sagged in relief as it extinguished, her eyes closing as if it was too
much to endure looking at the woman standing before her.
Richard was restrained fury. His muscles screamed to be released. The
magic within was a coiled viper waiting to strike. He wanted almost more
than anything to cut down this woman. The only thing he wanted more was for
Kahlan to be safe.
Nicci smiled pleasantly at Kahlan before turning to Richard. Her calm
blue eyes momentarily took in his white-knuckled fist on the hilt of his
sword.
"Richard. It's been a long time. You look well."
"What have you done?" He growled through gritted teeth.
She smiled. It was a smile a mother gave a child-a smile of indulgence.
She took a breath, as if recovering from a difficult bit of labor, and
lifted a hand to indicate Kahlan.
"I have spelled your wife, Richard."
Richard could hear Cara's breath close behind his left shoulder. She
was staying out of the way of his sword arm.
"To what end?" he asked.
"Why, to capture you, of course."
"What's going to happen to her? What harm have you done?"
"Harm? Why, none. Any harm that comes to her will only be by your
hand."
Richard frowned, understanding her, but wishing he were wrong. "You
mean, if I hurt you, Kahlan will suffer it, too?"
Nicci smiled with the same discerning, disarming smile she used to have
when she came to give him lessons. He could hardly believe that he used to
imagine that she must look like nothing so much as a good spirit in the
flesh.
Richard could sense the magic crackling around this woman. He had come
to know in most cases, through his own gift, when a person had the gift.
What others couldn't see, he saw. He could see it in their eyes, and
sometimes sense the aura of it around them. He had rarely met gifted women
who made the very air about them sizzle with their power. Worse, though,
Nicci was a Sister of the Dark.
"Yes, and more. Much more. You see, we are now linked by a maternity
spell. Odd name for a spell, yes? The name, in part, is derived from the
spell's nurturing aspects. As in lifegiver-the way a mother nurtures her
child and keeps it alive.
"That light you saw was an umbilical cord of sorts: an umbilical cord
of magic. By bending the nature of this world, it links our lives, no matter
the distance between

us. Just as I am the daughter of my mother and nothing could ever
change that, so neither can this magic be altered by anyone else."
She spoke as an instructor, as she had once spoken to him at the Palace
of the Prophets when she had been one of his teachers. She always spoke with
a quiet economy of words that he had once thought added an air of nobility
to her bearing. Back then, Richard couldn't have imagined coarse words
coming from Nicci's mouth, but the words she spoke now were vile.
She still moved with an unmatched, slow elegance. He had always thought
her movements seductive. He now saw them as the sinuous movements of a
snake.
The magic of his sword thundered through him, screaming to be loosed.
The sword's magic had been created specifically to combat what the sword's
wielder considered evil. At that moment, Nicci fit the requirement to such
an extent that the magic of the sword was close to overpowering him, near to
taking command in order to destroy this threat. With the pain from the Agiel
still throbbing in his head, it was a struggle to maintain his control over
the power of the sword. Richard could feel the raised gold letters of the
word TRUTH on the hilt pressing into his palm.
This was a time, perhaps more than any other, that he knew had to be
faced with truth, and not his raw wishes. Life and death hung in the
balance.
"Richard," Kahlan said in a level voice. She waited until his eyes met
hers. "Kill her." She spoke with a quiet authority that demanded obedience.
In her white Mother Confessor's dress, her words carried the unequivocal
weight of command. "Do it. Don't wait another moment. Kill her. Don't think
about it, do it."
Nicci calmly watched to see what he might do. What he would finally
decide seemed no more than a matter of curiosity to her. Richard had no need
to think or to decide.
"I can't," he said to Kahlan. "That would kill you, too."
Nicci lifted one eyebrow. "Very good, Richard. Very good."
"Do it!" Kahlan shrieked. "Do it now, while you still have the chance!"
"Keep still," he said in a calm voice. He looked back at Nicci. "Let's
hear it."
She clasped her hands in the way the Sisters of the Light were wont to
do. Only she was not a Sister of the Light. There looked to be something
deeply felt behind that blue-eyed gaze, but what those feelings could be, he
didn't know and feared to imagine. It was one of those intense gazes that
held a world of emotion, everything from longing to hatred. One thing he was
sure he saw was a dead serious determination that was more important to her
than life itself.
"It's like this, Richard. You are to come with me. As long as I live,
Kahlan will live. If I die, she dies. It's as simple as that."
"What else?" he demanded.
"What else?" Nicci blinked. "Nothing else."
"What if I decide to kill you?"
"Then I will die. But Kahlan will die with me-our lives are now
finked."
"That's not what I mean. I mean, you must have some purpose. What else
will it mean if I decide to kill you."
Nicci shrugged. "Nothing. It's up to you to decide. Our lives are in
your hands. Should you choose to preserve her life, you will have to come
with me."
"And what do you intend to do with him?" Kahlan asked as she edged her
way over to Richard's side. "Torture a sham confession out of him, so that
Jagang can put him on some kind of show trial followed by a very public
execution?"
If anything, Nicci looked surprised, as if such a thought had never
occurred to

her, and she found it abhorrent. "No, none of that. I intend him no
harm. For now, anyway. Eventually, of course, I will most likely have to
kill him."
Richard glared. "Of course."
When Kahlan made a move forward, he caught her arm and restrained her.
He knew what she intended. He didn't know exactly what would happen if
Kahlan unleased her Confessor's power on Nicci while they were both linked
by the spell, but he had no intention of finding out, since he was sure it
could come to no good end. Kahlan was far too ready, as far as he was
concerned, to forfeit her life to save his.
"Just hold on for now," he whispered to her.
Kahlan threw her arm out, pointing. "She just admitted she intends to
kill you!"
Nicci smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry about that for now. If it comes
to that, it will not likely be for a long time. Perhaps even a lifetime."
"And in the meantime?" Kahlan asked. "What plans do you have for him
before you discard his life as if it were insignificant?"
"Insignificant . . . ?" Nicci opened her hands in an innocent gesture.
"I have no plans. I expect only to take him away."
Richard had thought he understood what was going on, but he was less
and less sure with everything Nicci said. "You mean, you want to take me
away so that 1 can't fight against the Imperial Order?"
Her brow twitched. "If you wish to think of it in those terms, I admit
it is true that your time as the leader of the D'Haran Empire is over. But
that is not the point. The point is that everything about your life up until
now"-Nicci glanced pointedly at Kahlan-"is over."
Her words seemed to chill the air. They surely chilled Richard.
"What's the rest of it?" He knew there had to be more, something that
would make sense of it all. "What other terms are there if I want to keep
Kahlan alive?"
"Well, no one is to follow us, of course."
"And if we do?" Kahlan snapped. "I might follow you and kill you
myself, even if it means the end of my own life." Kahlan's green eyes shone
with icy resolve as she cast a threatening glare on the woman.
Nicci lifted her brows deliberately as she leaned ever so slightly
toward Kahlan, the way a mother would in cautioning a child. "Then that will
be the end of it unless Richard stops you from doing such a thing. That is
all part of what he must decide to do. But you make a miscalculation if you
think I care one way or the other. 1 don't, you see. Not at all."
"What is it you intend me to do?" Richard said, pulling Nicci,' s
unsettlingly calm gaze from Kahlan. "What if I get where you're taking me,
and I don't do as you wish?"
"You misunderstand, Richard, if you believe that I have some
preconceived notion of what it is I wish you to do. I don't. You will do as
you wish, I imagine."
"As I wish?"
"Well, naturally you won't be allowed to return to your people." She
tossed her head, flicking back strands of her long blond hair that the wind
had pulled across in front of her blue eyes. Her gaze never left his. "And I
suppose if you were to be in some way impossibly and defiantly contrary,
then in that case, such would obviously be an answer in and of itself. It
would be a shame, of course, but I would then have no use for you. I would
kill you."
"You would have no further use? You mean Jagang would have no further
use."

"No." Once again, Nicci looked surprised. "I do not act on behalf of
His Excellency." She tapped her lower lip. "You see? I removed the ring he
put through my lip marking me as his slave. I do this on behalf of myself."
A yet more disturbing thought surfaced. "How is it that he can't enter
your mind? That he can't control you?"
"You don't need me to answer that question, Richard Rahl."
It made no sense to him; the bond to the Lord Rahl worked for those
loyal to him. He could see no way that this could be construed as an act of
loyalty. This was unequivocally an act of aggression and against his will;
the bond shouldn't work for her. He reasoned that perhaps Jagang was in her
mind and she unaware of it. The thought occurred to him that maybe Jagang
was in her mind, and it had driven her insane.
"Look," Richard said, feeling like they weren't even speaking the same
language, "I don't know what you think-"
"Enough talk. We are leaving."
Her blue eyes watched him without anger. It almost seemed to Richard
that for Nicci, Kahlan anal Cara were not there.
"This doesn't make any sense. You want me to go with you, but you
aren't acting on behalf of Jagang. If that's true, then-"
"I believe I've made it as clear as possible and quite simple, besides.
If you wish to be free, you may kill me at any opportunity. If you do,
Kahlan will also die. Those are your only two choices. Although I believe I
know what you will do, I am in no way certain. Two paths now lie before you.
You must take one."
Richard could hear Cara's angry breath behind him. She was a coiled
spring ready to strike. Fearing she might do something of irredeemable harm,
he lifted his hand just to be sure she knew he meant for her to stay behind
him.
"Oh, and one additional matter, should you think to resort to some plot
or treachery, or, for that matter, refuse to do the simple things I ask of
you: through the spell that joins us, I can at any time end Kahlan's life. I
have but to will it. It is not necessary for me to die. She lives every day
from now on only by my grace, and thus yours.
"I wish her no harm, and have no feelings one way or the other about
her life. In fact, if anything, I wish it to be long. She has brought you a
measure of happiness, and in return for that, I hope she will not have to
forfeit her life. But then, you have some influence over that by your
behavior."
Nicci cast a deliberate glare over Richard's shoulder, to Cara. She
then reached out and with her fingers gently wiped blood from his mouth. She
finished cleaning his chin with her thumb. "Your MordSith has hurt you. I
can help you if you wish."
"No."
"Very well." She wiped her bloody fingers clean on the skirt of her
black dress. "Unless you want to risk other people causing Kahlan's death
without your intending it, I suggest you insure that others don't act
without your consent. Mord-Sith are resourceful and determined women. I
respect their devotion to duty. However, if your Mord-Sith follows us-and my
magic will tell me if she does-Kahlan will die."
"And just how will I know Kahlan is all right? We could get a mile away
from here, and you could use that magic link to kill her. I would never
know."
Nicci's brow creased together. She looked genuinely puzzled.
"Why would I do that?"

A storm of rage and panic pushed his emotions first one way, and then
the other. "Why are you doing any of this!"
She regarded him in silent curiosity for a moment. "I have my reasons.
I'm sorry, Richard, that you must suffer in this. Making you suffer is not
my purpose. I give you my word that I will not harm Kahlan without informing
you."
"You expect me to believe your word?"
"I've told you the truth. I have no reason to lie to you. In time, you
will come to understand everything better. Kahlan will come to no harm from
me as long as I am safe, and you come with me."
For reasons he couldn't fathom, Richard found himself believing her.
She seemed dead honest and completely sure of herself, as if she had
reasoned it all out a thousand times.
He didn't believe that Nicci was telling him everything. She was making
it simple so that he could grasp the important elements and have an easier
time deciding what to do. Whatever the rest of it was, it couldn't be as
devastating as this much of it. The thought of being taken from Kahlan was
agony, but he would do almost anything to save her life. Nicci knew that.
The enigma resurfaced. It was somehow linked to this.
"The spell that protects a person's mind from the dream walker works
only for those loyal to me. You can't expect to be safe from Jagang if you
do this. It's an act of treachery."
"Jagang does not frighten me. Don't fear for my mind, Richard. I'm
quite safe from His Excellency. In time, perhaps you will come to see how
wrong you have been in so many things."
"You're deceiving yourself, Nicci."
"You only see part of it, Richard." She lifted an eyebrow in a cryptic
manner. "At heart, your cause is the cause of the Order. You are too noble a
person for it to be otherwise."
"I may die at your hands, but I will die hating everything you and the
Order stand for." Richard's fists tightened. "You'll not get what you want,
Nicci. Whatever it is, you'll not get it."
She regarded him with great compassion. "This is all for the best,
Richard."
Nothing he said seemed to hold any sway with her, and he could make no
sense of the things she said. The fury inside boiled up. The magic of the
sword fought him for control. He could barely contain it. "Do you really
expect me to ever come to believe that?"
Nicci's blue eyes seemed to be focused somewhere beyond him.
"Possibly not."
Her gaze fixed on him once more. She put two fingers between her lips
as she turned and whistled. In the distance, a horse whinnied and trotted
out of the woods.
"I have another horse for you, waiting up on the other side of the
pass."
Terror clawed at his bones. Kahlan's fingers tightened on his arm.
Cara's hand touched his back. Memories of being captured before and all it
meant, all the things he had endured, made his pulse race and his breath
come in rapid pulls. He felt trapped. Everything was slipping through his
fingers and there didn't seem to be anything he could do about it.
He wanted more than anything to fight, but he couldn't figure how. He
wished it were as simple as striking down his adversary. He reminded himself
that reason, not

wishing, was his only chance. He seized the calm center within, and
used it to quell the rising storm of panic.
Nicci stood tall, her shoulders square, her chin up. She looked like
someone facing an execution with courage. He realized then that she truly
was prepared for whichever way it was to go.
"I have given you your choice, Richard. You have no other options.
Choose."
"There is no choice to make. I'll not allow Kahlan to die."
"Of course not." Nicci's posture eased almost imperceptibly. A small
smile of reassurance warmed her eyes. "She will be fine."
The horse slowed from its trot as it approached. When the handsome
dappled mare halted beside her, Nicci took ahold of the reins near the bit.
Its gray mane ruffled in the cold breeze. The mare snorted and tossed her
head, uneasy before strangers, and eager to be away.
"But . . . but," Richard stammered as Nicci stepped up into the
stirrup. "But, what am 1 allowed to take?"
Nicci swung her leg over the horse's rump and settled into the saddle.
She squirmed herself into position and adjusted her shoulders, setting them
back. Her black dress and blond hair stood out in stark relief against the
iron sky.
"You may bring anything you like, as long as it isn't a person." She
clicked her tongue, urging her horse around to face him. "I suggest you take
clothes and such. Whatever you wish to have with you. Take all you can
carry, if you want."
Her voice took on an edge. "Leave that sword of yours, though. You
won't be needing it." She leaned down, her expression for the first time
turning cold and threatening. "You are no longer the Seeker, or Lord Rahl,
leader of the D'Haran empire, or for that matter, you are no longer the
husband of the Mother Confessor. From now on, you are nobody but Richard."
Cara stepped out beside him, a thunderhead of dark fury. "I am
Mord-Sith. If you think I'm going to allow you to take Lord Rahl, you're
crazy. The Mother Confessor has already stated her wishes. My duty, above
all else, is to kill you."
Nicci curled three fingers around the reins, her thumbs holding them
tight. "Do as you must. You know the consequences."
Richard held out a restraining arm to prevent Cara from going up after
Nicci and dragging her off the horse. "Take it easy," he whispered. "Time is
on our side. As long as we're all still alive, we have the chance to think
of something."
The strain of Cara's weight against his arm eased. She reluctantly
backed a step.
"I have to get some things," Richard said to Nicci, trying to buy that
time. "Wait, at least, until I can get my pack together."
Nicci laid the reins over and stepped her horse back toward him. She
rested her left wrist across the saddle's pommel.
"I'm leaving." With a long graceful finger of her other hand, she
pointed. "You see that pass up there? You be with me by the time I'm at the
top, and Kahlan will live. If I cross over and you aren't with me, Kahlan
will die. You have my word."
It was all happening too fast. He needed to think of a way to stall.
"Then what good will any of this have done you?"
"It will have told me what means more to you." She sat back up in her
saddle. "When you think about it, that is quite a profound question. It is
yet to be answered. By the time I get to the top of the pass, 1 will have
the answer."
Nicci rocked her hips in the saddle, urging the horse ahead into a
walk. "Don't

forget-top of the pass. You have until then to say your good-byes, pack
what you wish to take, and then catch up with me if you wish Kahlan to live.
Or, if you choose to stay, you have until then to say your good-byes before
she dies. Understand, though, when making your choice, that the first will
be as final as the second."
Kahlan struggled to run toward the horse, but Richard clutched her
around her waist.
"Where are you taking him?" she demanded.
Nicci stopped her horse momentarily and gazed down at Kahlan with a
look of frightening finality.
"Why, into oblivion."

    CHAPTER 22



As she watched Nicci turn her dappled mare toward the pass and the
distant blue mountains beyond, Kahlan was still struggling to overcome her
dizziness from what the woman had done to her. Off near the distant trees, a
doe and her nearly grown fawn, two of the small herd of deer that frequented
the meadow, stood at alert, their ears perked, watching Nicci, waiting to
see if she might be a threat, Spooked by what they saw when Nicci turned
their way, both deer flicked their tails straight up and bounded for the
trees.
Kahlan refused to allow herself to give in to the disorientation. But
for Richard's iron arms around her waist, she would have thrown herself at
the Sister of the Dark. Kahlan had desperately wanted to unleash her
Confessor's power. No one had ever deserved it more.
Had her senses not still been floundering in a daze, she might have
been able to invoke her power through the Con Dar, the Blood Rage of an
ancient ability she possessed. Such rare magic would have bridged the
relatively small distance, but, reeling from the lingering force of Nicci's
conjuring, the attempt had been futile. It was all Kahlan could do to keep
her feet under her and her last meal in her stomach.
It was frustrating, infuriating, and humiliating, but Nicci had
surprised her and with magic as swift as Kahlan's Confessor's power had
taken her before she could react. Once Nicci's talons clutched her, Kahlan
had been powerless.
She had grown up being trained not to be taken by surprise. Confessors
were always targets; she knew better. Any number of times in similar
situations she had prevailed. Lulled by months of tranquillity, Kahlan had
lost her edge. She vowed never to let it happen again . . , but that would
do her no good now.
She could still feel Nicci's vital magic sizzling through her, as if
her soul itself had been scorched in the heat of the ordeal. Her insides
roiled as waves of the onslaught had yet to settle down. The cold air
rushing across the meadow, bending the brown grass, swept up to chill her
burning face. The wind carried an unfamiliar scent into the valley,
something that her jumbled senses perceived as vaguely portentous. The big
pines behind the house bowed and twisted but stood tall as the wind broke
against them with a sound not unlike waves rushing against stone cliffs.
Whatever sort of magic had been unleashed in her, Kahlan was convinced
Nicci had told the truth about its consequence. Despite how much she hated
the woman, because of the maternity spell Kahlan felt a connection to her, a
connection that she could only interpret as . . . affection. It was a
bewildering sensation. While positively disturbing, it was also, in a way, a
comforting connection to the woman beyond her vile magic and twisted
purpose. There seemed to be something deep within Nicci worth loving.
Regardless of Kahlan's far-fetched feelings, her perception and
reasoning told

her the truth of the matter: such impressions were illusion. If she got
the opportunity, she would not again hesitate for an instant to kill Nicci.
"Cara," Richard said, glaring at Nicci's back as she walked her horse
across the meadow, "I don't want you even thinking about trying to stop
her."
"I'm not going to allow-"
"I mean it. I mean it more than any order I've ever given you. If you
ever brought Kahlan to harm in such a way . . . well, 1 trust you'd never do
such an evil thing to me. Why don't you go get dressed."
Cara growled a curse under her breath. Richard turned to Kahlan as the
Mord Sith marched off into the house. Kahlan only then really noticed that
Cara was naked. She must have been interrupted in her bath. The magic Nicci
used had fogged Kahlan's mind, blurring her memory of recent events.
Kahlan did recall quite clearly, though, the feel of the Agiel. The
shattering torture of the MordSith's weapon had spiked through Nicci's magic
like a lance through straw. Even though Cara had used her Agiel on Nicci,
Kahlan felt it as if it had been used directly against the side of her own
neck.
Kahlan gently touched Richard's jaw in sympathy, then took hold of his
upper arms instead when he gave her a look that suggested no need for
sympathy. His big hands closed on her waist. She stepped into his embrace
and rested her forehead against his cheek.
"This can't be," she whispered. "It just can't."
"But it is."
"I'm so sorry."
"Sorry?"
"That I let her take me by surprise." Kahlan trembled with anger at
herself. "I should have been alert. If I'd done as I should have, and killed
her first, it would never have come to this."
Richard ran a hand gently down the back of her head, holding her to his
shoulder.
"Remember how you killed me in a sword fight the other day?" She nodded
against him. "We all make mistakes, get caught off guard. Don't blame
yourself. No one is perfect. It could even be that she cast a web of magic
to dull your awareness so she could slip up to you like . . . like some
silent unseen mosquito."
Kahlan had never considered that. Caught off guard or not, though, it
made her furious with herself. If only she had not been paying attention to
the stupid chipmunk. If only she had looked up sooner. If only she had acted
without waiting a split second to analyze the true nature of the threat to
decide if it warranted the unleashing of her devastating magic.
Almost from birth, Kahlan had been instructed in the use of her power,
with the mandate of unleashing it only upon being certain of the need. Much
like killing, a Confessor's power was the destruction of who a person was.
Afterward, the person acted exclusively on behalf of the Confessor, and at
the direction of the Confessor. It was as final as death.
Kahlan looked up into Richard's gray eyes. They looked all the more
gray with the gray sky behind him.
"My life is a precious and sacred thing to me," she said. "Yours is no
less to you. Don't throw yours away to be a slave to mine. I couldn't stand
it."
"It's not come to that yet. I'll figure something out. But for now, I
have to go with her."

"We'll follow, but stay well back." He was already shaking his head.
"But, she won't even be aware-"
"No. For all we know, she could have others with her. They could be
waiting to catch you if you follow. I couldn't bear the thought of knowing
that at any moment she could use magic or somehow find out you were
following. If that happened, you would die for nothing."
"You mean you think she could . . . hurt you to make you tell her I
planned to follow."
"Let's not let our imaginations get the better of us."
"But I should be close, for when you make a move-for when you figure a
way to stop her."
Richard cupped her face tenderly in his hands. He had a strange look in
his eyes, a look she didn't like.
"Listen to me. I don't know what's going on, but you mustn't die just
to free me."
Tears of desperation stung her eyes. She blinked them away. She fought
to keep her voice from becoming a wail.
"Don't go, Richard. I don't care what it means for me, as long as you
can be free. I would die happy if doing so would keep you from the enemy's
cruel hands. I can't allow the Order to have you. I can't allow you to
endure the slow grinding death of a slave in exchange for my life. I can't
allow them to-"
She bit off the words of what she feared most; she couldn't bear the
thought of him being tortured. It made her even more dizzy and sick to think
of him being maimed and mutilated, of him suffering all alone and forgotten
in some distant stinking dungeon with no hope of help.
But Nicci said they wouldn't. Kahlan told herself that, for her own
sanity, she had to believe Nicci's word.
Kahlan realized Richard was smiling to himself, as if trying to commit
to memory every detail of her face while at the same time running a thousand
other things through his thoughts.
"There's no choice," he whispered. "I must do this."
She clutched his shirt in her fist. "You're doing just as Nicci
wants-she knows you'll want to save me. I can't allow you to make that
sacrifice!"
Richard looked up briefly, gazing out at the trees and mountains behind
their house, taking it all in, like a condemned man savoring his last meal.
His gaze, more earnest, settled once more on hers.
"Don't you see? I am making no sacrifice. I am making a fair trade. The
reality that you exist is my basis for joy and happiness.
"I make no sacrifice," he repeated, stressing each word. "To be a
slave, even if that is what happens to me, and yet know you're alive, is my
choice over being free in a world in which you don't exist. I can live with
the first. I can't, with the second. The first is painful, the second
unbearable."
Kahlan beat a fist against his chest. "But you will be a slave or worse
and I can't bear that!"
"Kahlan, listen to me. I will always have freedom in my heart because I
understand what it is. Because I do, I can work toward it. I will find a way
to be free.
"I cannot find a way to bring you back to life.
"The spirits know that in the past I've been willing to forfeit my life
for a just

cause and if my life would truly make a difference. In the past, I have
knowingly imperiled both our lives, been willing to sacrifice both our
lives-but not in return for nothing. Don't you see? This would be a fool's
bargain. I'll not do it."
Kahlan pulled her breaths in small gasps, trying to told back the tears
as well as her rising sense of panic. "You're the Seeker. You must find a
way to freedom. Of course you will. You will, 1 know." She forced a swallow
past the constriction in her throat as she tried to reassure Richard, or
perhaps herself. "You'll find a way. I know you will. You'll find a way and
you'll come back. You did before. You will this time."
The shadows of Richard's features seemed dark and severe, cast as they
were in a mask of resignation.
"Kahlan, you must be prepared to go on."
"What do you mean?"
"You must find joy in the fact that I, too, live. You must be prepared
to go on with that knowledge and nothing else."
"What do you mean, nothing else?"
He had a terrible look in his eyes-some kind of sad, grim, tragic
acceptance. She didn't want to look into his eyes, but, standing there with
her hand against his chest, feeling the warmth of him, the life within him,
she couldn't make herself look away as he spoke.
"I think it's different this time."
Kahlan pulled her hair back when the wind dragged it over her eyes.
"Different?"
"There's something very different about the feel of this. It doesn't
make sense in the way things in the past have made sense. There's something
deadly serious about Nicci. Something singular. She's planned this out and
she's prepared to die for it. I can't lie to you to deceive you. Something
tells me that, this time, I may never be able to find a way to come back."
"Don't say that." In weak fingers trembling with dread, Kahlan gathered
his dark shirt into a wrinkled knot. "Please don't say that, Richard. You
must try. You must find a way to come back to me."
"Don't ever think I won't be doing my best." His voice was impassioned,
almost to the point of sounding angry. "I swear to you, Kahlan, that as long
as there is a breath in my lungs, I'll never give up; I'll always try to
find a way. But we can't ignore the possibility just because it's painful to
contemplate: I may never be back.
"You must face the fact that it looks like you must go on without me,
but with the knowledge that I'm alive, just as I will have that awareness of
you in my heart where no one can touch it. In our hearts, we have each other
and always will. That was the oath we swore when we were married-to love and
honor each other for all time. This can't change it. Distance can't change
it. Time can't change it."
"Richard . . ." She choked back her wail, but she couldn't keep the
tears from coursing down her face. "I can't stand the thought of you being a
slave because of me. Don't you see that? Don't you see what that would do to
me? I'll kill myself if I must so that she can't do this to you. I must."
He shook his head, the wind ruffling his hair. "Then I would have no
reason to escape her. Nothing to escape for."
"You won't need to escape, that's just it she won't be able to hold
you."
"She's a Sister of the Dark." He threw open his hands. "She will simply
use another means I won't know how to counter-and if you're dead, I won't
care to."
"But-"

"Don't you see?" He seized her by her shoulders. "Kahlan, you must live
to give me a reason to try to escape her."
"Your own life is your reason," she said. "To be free to help people
will be your reason."
"The people be cursed." He released her and gestured angrily. "Even
people where I grew up turned against us. They tried to murder us. Remember?
The lands that have surrendered into the union with D'Hara will likely not
remain loyal, either, when they see the reality of the Imperial Order's army
moving up into the Midlands. Eventually, D'Hara will stand alone.
"People don't understand or value freedom. The way it now stands, they
won't fight for it. They've proven it in Anderith, and in Hartland, where I
grew up. What more clear evidence could be seen? I hold out no false hope.
Most of the rest of the Midlands will quail when it comes time to fight
against the Imperial Order. When they see the size of the Order's army and
their brutality with those who resist, they will surrender their freedom."
He looked away from her, as if regretting his flash of anger in their
last moments together. His tall form, so stalwart against the sweep of
mountains and sky, sagged a little, seeming to huddle closer to her as if
seeking comfort.
"The only thing I have to hope for is to get away so I can come back to
you." His voice had lost all traces of heat as he spoke in a near whisper.
"Kahlan, please don't take that hope from me-it's all I have."
In the distance she could see the fox trotting across the meadow. Its
thick, whitetipped tail followed out straight behind as the fox made its
inspection for any rodents that might be about. As Kahlan's gaze tracked its
movement, from the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of Spirit standing
proud and free in the window. How could she lose the man who had carved that
for her when she needed it most?
She could, she knew, because now he needed what only she could give
him. Looking back up into his intense gray eyes, she realized she could not
hope to deny him his earnest plea and only request, not at a time like this.
"All right, Richard. I won't do anything rash to free you. I'll wait
for you. I'll endure it.
"I know you. I know you won't ever give up. You know I expect no less
from you. When you get away-and you will-I'll be waiting for you, and then
we'll be together again. We'll never be apart in our hearts. As you said,
our oath of love is timeless."
Richard closed his eyes with relief. He tenderly kissed her brow. He
lifted her hand from his chest and pressed soft kisses to her knuckles. She
saw then how much her pledge meant to him.
Kahlan pulled her hand back and quickly removed her necklace, the one
Shota had given her as a wedding gift. It was meant to prevent her from
getting pregnant. She turned Richard's hand over and pushed the necklace
into his palm. He frowned in confusion at the small, dark stone hanging from
the gold chain draped over his fingers.
"What's this about?"
"I want you to take it." Kahlan cleared her throat to keep her voice.
She could only manage a whisper. "I know what she wants of you-what she will
make you do."
"No, that's not what . . ." He shook his head. He said, "I'm not taking
this," as if turning it away would somehow deny the possibility.

Kahlan put her hand to the side of his face. His face wavered before
her in a watery blur.
"Please, Richard. Please take it. For me. I couldn't bear the thought
of another woman having your child." Or even the thought of the attempt at
its creation-but she didn't say that part of it. "Especially not after mine
. . . "
He looked away from her eyes. "Kahlan . . ." Words failed him.
"Just do it for me. Take it. Please, Richard. I'm doing as you ask and
will endure your captivity; please honor my request in return. I couldn't
stand the thought of that bewitching blond beast having your child-the child
that should be mine. Don"you see? How could I ever love something I hated?
And how could I ever hate
something that was part of you? Please, Richard, don't let it come to
that."
The cold wind lifted and twisted her hair. Her whole life, it seemed,
was twisting out of her control. She could hardly believe that this place of
such joy, peace, and redemption, a place where she had come to live again,
could be a place where it would all be taken away.
Richard held the necklace out to her, as if it were a thing that might
bite him. The dark stone swung under his fingers, gleaming in the gloom.
"Kahlan, I don't think that's what this is about. I really don't. But
anyway, she could simply refuse to wear it and threaten your life if I
didn't . . ."
Kahlan pulled the gold chain from his fingers and laid it all in a
small neat mound in his palm. The dark stone glimmered from its imprisonment
behind the veil of tiny gold links. She closed his fingers around the
necklace and held his fist shut with both of her hands.
"You're the one who demands we not ignore those things that are painful
to contemplate."
"But if she refuses . . ."
Kahlan gripped his fist tighter in her trembling fingers. "If it comes
to a time when she makes that demand of you, you must convince her to wear
the necklace. You must. For me. It's bad enough for me to think she might
take my love, my husband, from me like that, but to also fear . . ."
His big hand felt so warm and familiar and comforting to her. Her words
came choked with desperate tears. She could do no more than beg. "Please,
Richard."
He pressed his lips tight, then nodded and stuffed the necklace in a
pocket. "I don't believe those are her intentions, but if it should turn out
to be so, you have my word: she will wear the necklace."
Kahlan sagged against him with a sob.
He took her by the arm. "Come on. Hurry. I have to get whatever I need
to take. I've only got a few minutes, or all this will be for nothing. I can
take the shorter trail and still catch up with her at the top of the pass,
but I don't have much time."


    CHAPTER 23



Kahlan was aware of Cara, wearing her bloodred leather, standing in the
doorway to their bedroom watching Richard cram his things into his pack.
Kahlan nodded as she and Richard exchanged brief, stilted instructions. They
had already come to terms with the life-and-death issues. It seemed they
both feared to say anything of consequence for fear of disturbing the
delicate, desperate, difficult agreements they had reached.
The meager light coming in the small window did little to brighten the
gloom. Cara, over in the doorway, blocked some of the light. The room had
the feel of a dungeon. Richard, dressed in dark clothes, looked like a
shadow. So many times, as she lay in bed recovering, Kahlan had thought of
it that way-as her dungeon. Now it had the palpable sense of a dungeon, but
with the clean aroma of pine walls instead of the stench of a stone cell
from where trembling, sweating prisoners were taken to their death.
Cara looked forlorn one moment and the next like lightning seeking
ground. Kahlan knew that the Mord-Sith's emotions had to be as torn as her
own, balancing on a knife's edge with despair and grief on one side and rage
on the other. MordSith were not used to being in such a position, but then,
Cara was now more than simply Mord-Sith.
Kahlan watched Richard pack the black trousers, black undershirt, black
and gold tunic, silver wristbands, over-belt with its pouches, and golden
cloak into his pack, where they took up a good portion of the available
space. He was wearing his dark forest garb; he didn't have time to change.
Kahlan hoped a time would soon come when he would escape and again wear the
clothes of a war wizard to toad them against the Order. They all needed him
to lead the D'Haran Empire against the invading horde from the Old World.
For reasons that weren't always entirely clear, Richard had become the
linchpin of their struggle. Kahlan knew his feelings about that-that people
must be willing to fight for themselves and not only for him-were valid. If
an idea was sound, it had to have a life beyond a leader, or the leader had
failed.
As he threw other clothes and small items into his pack, Richard told
Kahlan that maybe she could find Zedd, that he might have some ideas. She
nodded and said she would, knowing Zedd wouldn't be able to do anything.
This terrible triangle was not liable to be susceptible to influence by
outsidersNicci had seen to that. It was just a hope Richard was giving her,
the only bouquet he could offer in the desolate void of reality.
Kahlan didn't know what to do with her hands. She stood twining her
fingers together as tears dripped off her chin. There must be something to
say, something important, some last words while she had the chance, but she
couldn't think of them.

She supposed he knew what she felt, what was in her heart, and words
couldn't add anything to that. She pressed her fist against the aching knot
of anxiety in the pit of her stomach.
A sense of doom crowded in the room like a fourth person, a grim guard
waiting to take Richard away. This was the heart of terror, being controlled
by what you couldn't see, couldn't reason with, couldn't persuade or battle.
The doom waited, implacable, immune, indifferent.
As Cara vanished from the doorway, Richard pulled a fistful of gold and
silver from an inside pocket in his leather pack. He hastily dropped roughly
half back in the pack and then held out the rest.
"Take this. You might need it."
"I'm the Mother Confessor. I don't need gold."
He tossed it on the bed for her anyway, apparently not wanting to argue