shimmer, to fade

"Wait! I must have the answers to my questions! Please, don't leave me!"

"We're sorry, it is not our choice, we are called back behind the veil."

"Why is Rahl after Richard? Please help me."

His father's voice was weak and distant. "We don't know. You must search for the answers
yourself. We have trained you well. You are more talented than we ever were. Use what you were
taught and what you feel. We love you, son. Until this is settled, one way or the other, we cannot
come to you again. With Orden in play, coming again could tear the veil."

His mother kissed her hand and held it out to him as he did the same in return, and then they were
gone.

Zeddicus Zu'1 Zorander, the great and honorable wizard, stood alone on the wizard's rock his father
had given him, and stared out into the night, thinking wizard's thoughts.

"Nothing is ever easy," he whispered

CHAPTER 8


RICHARD CAME AWAKE WITH a start. Warm midday light filled the room, and the wonderful,
tangy aroma of spice soup filled his lungs. He was in his room at Zedd's house. He looked up at the
familiar knots in the wood walls, and the faces he always made them into in his mind stared back.
The door to the front room stood shut. A chair waited next to the bed, empty. He sat up, pushing the
covers down, and saw that he still wore his dirty clothes. He felt for the tooth under his shirt and
sighed in relief when he found it still there, safe. A short stick held the window open a few inches,
letting in fresh air and the sound of Kahlan's laughter. Zedd must be telling stories, he thought.
Richard looked at his left hand. It was wrapped but no longer sore when he flexed his fingers. His
head didn't hurt anymore, either. In fact, he felt wonderful. Hungry, but wonderful. He amended
that to dirty, in filthy clothes, and hungry, but wonderful.

A tub of bathwater, soap, and clean towels sat in the center of the small room. A clean outfit of his
forest garb was folded and stacked neatly on the chair. The bathwater looked deliciously inviting.
He dipped his hand in and found the water warm. Zedd must have known when he would wake.
Knowing Zedd as well as he did, that didn't surprise him.

Richard undressed and slipped into the welcoming water. The soap smelled almost as good to him
as the soup. He liked to stay in the tub for a good long soak, but he felt too wide awake for soaking,
and was eager to be outside with the other two. Unwrapping the hand, he was surprised to find how
much it had healed overnight.

When he came out, Kahlan and Zedd were sitting at the table waiting for him. Kahlan's dress was
freshly washed, he noticed, and she looked bathed, too. Her hair was clean and glistened in the
sunlight. Green eyes sparkled up at him. A big bowl of soup waited for him next to her at the table,
along with cheese and fresh bread.

"I wouldn't have expected to have slept until noon," he said, swinging his leg over the bench. They
both laughed. Richard eyed them suspiciously.

Kahlan straightened her face. "This is the second noon you have slept to, Richard."

"Yes," Zedd added, "you slept right through the first. How do you feel? How is your hand?"

"I'm fine. Thank you, Zedd, for helping me. Thank you both." He opened and closed his fingers to
show them the improvement. "The hand feels much better, except it itches."

"My mother always said that if it itched, that meant it was getting better."

Richard grinned at her. "Mine too." He fished a piece of potato and a mushroom into his spoon and
tasted it. "It's as good as mine," he said to her earnestly.

She sat crosswise on the bench, facing toward him, her elbow resting on the table with the side of
her jaw nestled in the heel of her hand. She gave him a knowing smile. "Zedd tells it differently."

Richard cast a reproachful eye at Zedd, who looked up at the sky in an exaggerated manner. "Does
he now? I will have to remind him of that the next time he is begging me to make it for him."

"Frankly," she said in a low voice, but not low enough that Zedd couldn't hear, "from what I've
seen, I think he would eat dirt if someone else dished it up for him."

Richard laughed. "I see you've gotten to know him well."

"I tell you, Richard," the old man said, pointing a bony finger, not about to let them get the best of
him, "she could make dirt taste good. You would do well to take lessons from her."

Richard broke off a piece of bread and dunked it in the soup. He knew the joking was a release for
the tension he sensed, a way to pass the time while they both waited for him to finish. Kahlan had
given Richard her word that she would wait for him to ask Zedd's help; it was apparent that she had
kept her word. And Zedd's way was to play ignorant and innocent, and wait for you to ask
something first so he could better judge what you already knew. This day, Richard could not allow
any of his games. This day, things were different.

"There is one thing I don't trust about her, though." Zedd's tone was dark, menacing.

Richard froze in mid-chew. He swallowed and waited, not daring to look at either of them, while
the other paused.

"She doesn't like cheese! I don't think I could ever trust anyone who doesn't like cheese. It's not
natural."

Richard relaxed. Zedd was just twiddling with his mind, as he always called it. His old friend
seemed to have a knack for catching him off guard, and he delighted in it. Richard stole a glance at
Zedd to see him sitting there with an innocent smile on his face. Richard smiled, too, in spite of
himself. While he relished the bowl of soup, Zedd nibbled on a piece of cheese to make his point.
Kahlan nibbled on a piece of bread to make hers. The bread tasted delicious. Kahlan was pleased
when he pointed it out.

As Richard neared the end of his meal he decided it was time to change the tone of things back to
business. "The next quad? Has there been any sign?"

"No. I was worried, but Zedd did a cloud reading for me and said it appeared they must have run
into trouble of some kind, since they were nowhere to be found."

He gave Zedd a sideways glance. "Is that true?"

"True as toasted toads." Zedd had used the` expression since Richard was young, to win him over
with humor and let him know he could always trust the old man to be truthful with him above all
else. Richard wondered what sort of trouble a quad could "run into."

For better or worse, he had succeeded in changing the mood at the table. He felt Kahlan's
impatience for him to get on with it, and he 'sensed impatience irk Zedd, too. Kahlan turned back to
the table and put both hands in her lap, waiting. Richard feared that if he didn't handle things
properly, she would do whatever it was she was here to do, and he would have no control over it.

Richard finished his meal and pushed the bowl away with his thumbs, at the same time meeting
Zedd's eyes. His friend's humor was gone, but otherwise he showed nothing of what he was
thinking. He simply waited. It was Richard's turn now, and once he began there could be no going
back.

"Zedd, my friend, we need your help to stop Darken Rahl. "

"I know. You want me to find the wizard for you."

"No, that won't be necessary. I have already found him." Richard felt Kahlan's questioning eyes on
him, but he continued to fix his gaze on Zedd. "You are the great wizard."

Kahlan began to rise from the bench. Without taking his eyes from Zedd, Richard 'reached under
the table and clutched her forearm, forcing her to sit back down. Still Zedd showed no emotion. His
voice came even and soft.

"And what makes you think this, Richard?"

Richard took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he put his hands on the table, intertwining his
fingers. He watched his hands as he spoke. "When Kahlan first told me about the history of the
three lands, she said the council had taken actions that made the death of the wizard's wife and
daughter at the hands of a quad stand for nothing, and as punishment the wizard did the worst thing
possible to them: he left them to suffer the consequences of their own actions.

"That sounded like the very thing you would do, but I couldn't be sure then; I had to find a way to
know. When you first saw Kahlan, and were angry that she had come here from the Midlands, I
told you she had been attacked by a quad. I watched your eyes. They told me I was right. Only
someone who had suffered a loss like yours would have had that look in his eyes. And, you
changed your attitude toward her after I told you

Completely. Only someone who had known the terror personally would have that kind of empathy.
But still I didn't trust my instinct. I waited."

He looked up at Zedd and held the other's gaze while he spoke. "Your biggest mistake was when
you told Kahlan she was safe here. You would not lie, especially about something like that. And
you know what a quad is. How could an old man make it safe here, against a quad, without magic?
He couldn't, but one old wizard could. The next quad is nowhere to be found, you said so yourself;
they ran into some trouble. I think they ran into some wizard trouble. You were as good as your
word. You always are."

Richard's voice turned gentler. "I have always known, in a thousand little ways, that you were more
than you claimed to be, that you were a special person. I have always been honored to have you as
my friend. And I know that as my friend, you would do anything, anything you must, to help me if
my life were in danger, just as I would do anything for you. I trust you with my life, and it is now in
your hands." Richard hated closing the trap in this fashion, but all their lives were at risk. There
could be no games.

Zedd put his hands on the table and leaned forward. "I have never before been this proud of you,
Richard." His eyes told that he meant it. "You got it all right." He stood and came around the table.
When Richard stood, they hugged. "I have also never been this sad for you." Zedd held Richard in a
tight embrace for a moment longer. "Sit. I will be right back. I have something for you. Both of you
sit and wait a moment."

Zedd cleared the table; then, holding the plates in the crook of his arm, he strode to the house.
Kahlan looked worried as she watched him go. Richard had thought that she would be happy to
have found the wizard, but now she looked more frightened than anything else. Things were going
differently from what he had expected.

When Zedd reappeared, he was carrying something long. Kahlan came to her feet. Richard realized
Zedd's fist clutched the scabbard of a sword. Kahlan put herself in front of him before he reached
the table, grabbing fistfuls of his robes.

"Don't do this, Zedd." Her voice was desperate.

"It is not my choice."

"Zedd, please no, choose someone else, not Richard . . . ."

Zedd cut her off. "Kahlan! I warned you about this. I told you; he picks himself. If I choose
someone other than the true one, we all die. If you have a better way . . . put words to it!"

He swept her aside, came to the side of the table opposite Richard, and slammed the sword down in
front of him. Richard jumped. He looked from the sword up into Zedd's fierce eyes as the other
leaned over the table.

"This belongs to you," the wizard said. Kahlan turned her back to them.

Richard's gaze fell upon the sword. The silver scabbard gleamed with gold flourishes that
embellished it in sweeps and waves. Steel crossguards swept out and down aggressively. Finely
twisted silver wire covered the grip, and interwoven along the side of the braided silver, gold wire
formed the word Truth. This, Richard thought, was the sword of a king. It was the finest weapon he
had ever seen.

Slowly, he rose to his feet. Zedd picked up the scabbard by the point and held the hilt of the sword
to Richard. "Draw it."

As if in a trance, Richard closed his fingers around the hilt and pulled the sword free, the blade
making a ringing, metallic sound that hung in the air. Richard had never heard a sword make a
sound quite like it. His hand closed tightly around the grip, and in his palm and on his fingers
opposite he could feel the bumps of the gold wire that spelled out the word Truth on each side of
the hilt pressing almost painfully into his flesh. Inexplicably, it felt precisely correct. The weight fit
him exactly. He felt as if a part of him was now complete.

From deep within, he felt his anger stir, brought to life, searching direction. He was suddenly aware
of the tooth against his chest.

As his rage rose, he felt an awakening power rushing into him from the sword: the twin to his own
anger. His own feelings had always seemed independent, whole. This was like having an image in a
mirror come to life. It was a terrifying specter. His anger fed on the force from the sword, and in
return, the wrath from the sword fed on his anger. Together the twin storms spiraled through him.
He felt like a helpless bystander, being dragged along. It was a frightening and at the same time
seductive sensation that bordered on violation. Fearful perceptions of his own anger twisted with
tantalizing promise. The bewitching emotions rushed headlong through him, seizing his anger,
soaring with it. Richard struggled to control the rage. He was on the brink of panic. On the brink of
abandon.

Zeddicus Zu'l Zorander threw his head back and spread his arms. To the sky, he called out, "Fair
warning to those living and those dead! The Seeker is named!"

Thunder from the blue sky shook the ground and rolled off toward the boundary.

Kahlan fell to her knees in front of Richard, head bowed, hands held behind her back. "I pledge my
life in the defense of the Seeker."

Zedd knelt beside her, his head bowed. "I pledge my life in the defense of the Seeker." '

Richard stood gripping the Sword of Truth in his hand, eyes wide in breathless bewilderment.

"Zedd," he whispered, "what in the name of everything good is a Seeker?"

CHAPTER 9


WITH THE AID OF a hand to his knee, Zedd rose to his feet, rearranged his robes around his bony
body, and held his hand out to Kahlan, who was staring at the ground. Noticing the hand, she took
it, coming to her feet as well. Her face bore a distressed expression. Zedd considered her for a
moment, and she nodded that she was all right.

Zedd turned to Richard. "What is a Seeker? A wise first question in your new capacity, but not one
swiftly answered."

Richard gazed down at the gleaming sword in his hand, not at all sure he wanted anything to do
with it. He slid it back into its scabbard, glad to be free of the feelings it invoked, and held it in both
hands before him. "Zedd, I've never seen this before. Where have you kept it?"

Zedd smiled proudly. "In the cabinet, in the house."

Richard eyed him skeptically. "There's nothing in the cabinet but dishes and pans and your
powders."

"Not that cabinet," he said, lowering his voice as if to thwart anyone who might be listening, "in my
wizard's cabinet!" Richard straightened with a frown. "I've never seen any other cabinet."

"Bags, Richard! You're not supposed to see it! It's a wizard's cabinet; it's invisible!"

Richard felt more than a little stupid. "And how long have you had this?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe a dozen years or so." Zedd swept his slender hand in the air as if trying to
brush the question away.

"And how did you come to have it?"

Zedd's tone hardened. "The naming of the Seeker is a wizard's task. The High Council wrongly
took it upon itself to name the person. They didn't care anything about finding the right person.
They gave the post to whoever suited them at the time. Or whoever offered the most. The sword
belongs to the Seeker as long as he is alive, or as long as he chooses to be Seeker. In between,
while a new Seeker is sought, the Sword of Truth belongs to the wizards. Or more precisely, it
belongs to me, as naming Seekers is my responsibility. The last fellow who had it became . . ." His
eyes turned up, as if searching the sky for the right word. ". . . entangled, with a witch woman.-So,
while he was distracted, I went into the Midlands and retrieved what is mine. Now it is yours."

Richard felt himself being drawn into something not of his own choosing. He looked to Kahlan.
She seemed to have shed her anguish and was unreadable again. "This is what you came here for?
This is what you wanted the wizard to do?"

"Richard, I wanted the wizard to name a Seeker. I did not know it would be you."

He was beginning to feel trapped as he looked from one to the other. "You two think I can
somehow save us. That's what you both are thinking: that somehow I'm to stop Darken Rahl. A
wizard can't do it, but I'm to try?" Terror rose with his heart into his throat.

Zedd came and put a reassuring arm around his shoulder. "Richard, look up in the sky. Tell me
what you see." Richard looked and saw the snakelike cloud. He didn't need to answer the question.
Zedd pressed his strong, bony fingers into Richard's flesh. "Come. Sit, and I will tell you what you
need to know. Then you decide, for yourself, what it is you will do

Come." He put his other arm around Kahlan's shoulder and guided them both to the bench at the
table. He went to his place opposite them and sat. Richard laid the sword on the table between them
to signify that the matter was yet to be decided.

Zedd pushed his sleeves up his arms a little. "There is a magic," he began, "an ancient and
dangerous magic of immense power. It's a magic spawned from the earth, from life itself. It is held
in three vessels called the three boxes of Orden. The magic is dormant until the boxes are put into
play, as it is called. To do so is not easy. It requires a person who has knowledge gained from long
scholarship and who can call upon considerable power on his own. Once a person has at least one
of the boxes, the magic of Orden can be put in play. He then has one year from that time to open a
box, but he must have all three before any will open. They work together; you can't simply have
one and open it. If the person who puts them in play fails to acquire all three, and to open one
within the allotted time, he forfeits his life to the magic. There is no going back. Darken Rahl must
open one of the boxes, or die. On the first day of winter, his year is up."

Zedd's face was tight with hard wrinkles and determination. He leaned forward a little. "Each box
holds a different power, which is released upon its opening. If Rahl opens the correct one, he gains
the magic of Orden, the magic of life itself, power over all things living and dead. He will have
unchallenged power and authority. He will be a master with immutable dominion over all people.
Anyone he doesn't like, he will be able to kill with a thought, in any manner of his choosing,
wherever that person is, no matter how far away."

"Sounds like a terribly evil magic," Richard said.

Zedd leaned back, taking his hands from the table. He shook his head. "No, not really. The magic
of Orden is the power of life. Like all power, it simply exists. It's the user who determines what use
it will be put to. The magic of Orden can just as easily be used to help crops grow, to heal the sick,
to end conflict. It's all in what the user wants. The power is neither evil nor good; it simply exists. It
is up to the mind of man to put it to use. I think we all know which use Darken Rahl would
choose."

Zedd paused, as was his way, to let Richard ponder the meaning of what he had been told. His thin
face fixed in resolve as he waited. Kahlan, too, had a look that told him she was determined to have
him fully understand the ominous nature of what Zedd was saying.

Richard, of course, didn't need to ponder it, since he knew it all from the Book of Counted
Shadows. The book was explicit. From the book, he knew Zedd was barely touching on the full
extent of the cataclysm that would sweep the land if Darken Rahl opened the correct box. He knew,
also, what would happen if one of the other boxes was opened, but he couldn't reveal his
foreknowledge, and so had to ask anyway. "And if he opens one of the others?"

Zedd came forward against the table in a blink. He had expected that this would be the next
question. "Open the wrong box, and the magic claims him. He's dead." Zedd snapped his fingers.
"Just like that. We are all safe; the threat is removed." He leaned closer, his brow furrowed, and
gave Richard a hard look. "Open the other wrong box, and every bug, every blade of grass, every
tree, every man, woman, and child, every living thing, is incinerated into nothingness. It would be
the end of all life. The magic of Orden is twin to the magic of life itself, and death is part of
everything that lives, so the magic of Orden is tied to death, as well as life."

Zedd sat back, seeming to be overwhelmed by the telling of the choices of catastrophe. Though
Richard already knew it all, he still swallowed hard at hearing it out loud. Somehow it seemed
more real to him like this, more real when there was a name put to it. When he had learned the
book, it was all so abstract, so hypothetical, that he had never given any thought to the possibility
that it would come to pass. His only concern had been that the knowledge be preserved so as to be
returned to its keeper. He wished he could tell Zedd what he knew, but his oath to his father
prevented him from saying anything. It also required him to keep up the pretense by asking another
question to which he already knew the answer.

"How will Rahl know which box to open?"

Zedd rearranged the sleeves of his robes and looked down at the table, watching his hands as he
spoke. "Putting the boxes in play imparts to the person certain privileged information. It must be
that this information tells him how he can discover which box is which."

That made sense. No one knew of the book but its keeper, and, it appeared, the person who put the
boxes in play. The book made no reference to this, but it seemed logical. A sudden jolt went
through him: Darken Rahl must be after him for the book. He almost didn't hear Zedd beginning to
speak again.

"Rahl has done something out of the ordinary, though. He has put the boxes in play before he has
all three."

Richard came to attention immediately. "He must be stupid, or very confident."

"Confident," the wizard said. "When I left the Midlands, it was for two main reasons. The first was
because the High Council took the naming of the Seeker upon itself. The second was because they
mishandled the boxes of Orden. People had come to believe that the power of the boxes was just a
legend. They thought me an old fool for telling them it was no legend but the truth. They refused to
heed my warnings."

He pounded his fist down on the table, causing Kahlan to jump. "They laughed at me!" His face
was red with-anger, making it stand out all the more against the mass of his white hair. "I wanted
the boxes kept far apart from each other, and with magic, hidden and locked away so as to never be
found again. The council, instead, wanted them given to important people, like trophies to be
shown off. They used them as payments for favors or promises. This exposed the boxes to covetous
hands. I don't know what happened to them in the intervening years. Rahl has at least one, but not
all three. Not yet anyway." Zedd's eyes flashed with fervor. "Do you see, Richard? We don't have
to go up against Darken Rahl, we have only to find at least one of the boxes before he does."

"And keep it from him, which may prove considerably harder than finding it," Richard pointed out,
letting the words hang in the air a moment. He had a sudden thought. "Zedd, do you think one of
the boxes could be here in Westland?"

"Not likely."

"Why not?"

Zedd hesitated. "Richard, I never told you I was a wizard, but you never asked before, so I didn't
really lie about it. I did tell you one lie, though. I told you I came here before the boundary went up,
in reality I didn't come here before it went up, because I couldn't. You see, in order to create a
Westland free of magic, there could be none here when the boundary went up. Magic could come
here after the boundary was established, but not be here before. Since I have magic, my presence
would have prevented it from happening, so I had to stay in the Midlands until after, and only then
was I able to come through."

"Everyone has their little secrets. I don't begrudge you yours. But what's your point?"

"My point is, we know none of the boxes could have been here before the boundary went up, or
their magic would have prevented it. So if they were all in the Midlands before the boundary,
because of the magic, and I didn't bring one with me, they have to still be in the Midlands."

Richard thought about this awhile, feeling his spark of hope die. He turned his thoughts back to the
matter at hand.

"You still have not told me what a Seeker is. Or my part in this."

Zedd folded his hands together. "A Seeker is a person who answers to no one but himself; he is a
law unto himself. The Sword of Truth is his to wield as he wishes, and within the limits of his own
strength, he can hold anyone to answer for anything." Zedd held up his hand to forestall Richard's
objections and questions. "I realize this is vague. The problem with explaining it is that it is like all
power. As I told you before, it's how the person uses power that makes it what it is. This is the core
of why it is so important to find the right person, a person who will use the power wisely. You see,
Richard, a Seeker does exactly as the name implies; he seeks. He seeks the answers to things.
Things of his own choosing. If he is the right person, he will seek the answers that will help others,
not just himself. The whole purpose of a Seeker is to be free to quest on his own, to go where he
wants, ask what he wants, learn what he wants, find answers to what he wants to know, and if need
be, do whatever it is the answers demand."

Richard straightened, his voice rising. "Are you telling me a Seeker is an assassin?" "I won't lie to
you, Richard; there have been times when it has turned out that way."

Richard's face was crimson. "I will not be an assassin?"

Zedd shrugged. "As I said, a Seeker is whatever he wants. Ideally, a Seeker is the standard-bearer
of Justice. I can't tell you much more, because I've never been one. I don't know what goes on in
their heads; however, I know the proper kind of person."

Zedd pushed his sleeves up again while he watched Richard. "But I don't pick a Seeker, Richard. A
true Seeker picks himself. I only name them. You have been a Seeker for years without knowing it.
I have watched you, and that is what you do. You are always seeking the truth. What do you think
you were doing in the high Ven? You were seeking the answer to the vine, to your father's murder.
You could have left that to others, others more qualified, and as it turned out, perhaps you should
have, but that would have been against your nature, the nature of a Seeker. They don't leave it to
others, because they want to know for themselves. When Kahlan told you she was looking for a
wizard who was lost since before she was born, you had to know who it was, and you found him."

"But that's only because . . ."

Zedd cut him off. "It doesn't matter. It's irrelevant. Only one thing matters: that you did it. I saved
you with the root I found. Does it matter that it was easy for me to find the root? No. Would you be
any more alive if it had been extremely difficult for me to find the root? No. I found the root, you
are well. That is all that matters. Same with the Seeker. It's of no importance how he finds an
answer, only that he does. As I said, there are no rules. Right now there are answers you must find.
I don't know how you will do so, and I don't care, only that you do. If you say, `Oh, that's simple,'
all the better, as we don't have much time."

Richard's guard went up. "What answers?"

Zedd smiled, and his eyes sparkled. "I have a plan, but you must first find a way to get us across the
boundary."

"What!" Richard ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation, muttering his disbelief under his
breath. He looked back to Zedd. "You're a wizard; you had something to do with putting the
boundary there in the first place. You have just said you have been through it to retrieve the sword.
Kahlan has come through the boundary, sent by wizards. I know nothing of the boundary! If you
expect me to find you the answer, well, here it is: Zedd, you are a wizard, send us through the
boundary!"

Zedd shook his head. "No. I said across the boundary, not through it. I know how to go through it,
but we can't do that. Rahl waits for us to do so. If we try to go through, he will kill us. If we are
lucky. We must instead go across it, without going through it. There is a big difference."

"Zedd, I'm sorry, but it's impossible. I don't know anything about how to get us across. I don't see
how it can be done. The boundary is the underworld. If we can't go through it, then we are stuck
here. The whole purpose of the boundary is to prevent anyone from doing just what you are asking
me to do." Richard felt helpless. They were depending on him, and he didn't have any answers.

Zedd's voice was kind and gentle. "Richard, you are too quick to criticize yourself. What is it you
say when I ask how you must solve difficult problems?"

Richard knew what Zedd was talking about, but was reluctant to answer, as he felt answering only
pulled him in deeper. Zedd lifted an eyebrow, waiting. Richard looked down at the table, picking at
the wood with his thumbnail. "Think of the solution, not the problem."

"And right now you are doing it backwards. You are only concentrating on why the problem is
impossible. You are not thinking of the solution."

Richard knew Zedd was right, but there was more to it. "Zedd, I don't think I'm qualified to be
Seeker. I don't know anything about the Midlands."

"Sometimes it is easier to make a decision if you aren't burdened with a knowledge of history," the
wizard said cryptically.

Richard let out a deep breath. "I don't know the place. I'd be lost there."

Kahlan put her hand on his forearm. "No, you wouldn't. I know the Midlands better than almost
anyone. I know where it is safe and where it is not. I'll be your guide. You will not be lost. I
promise you that much."

Richard looked away from her green eyes and down at the table. It hurt to think that he might
disappoint her, but her faith, and Zedd's, didn't seem justified. He didn't know anything about the
Midlands, or the magic, or how to find some boxes, or how to stop Darken Rahl. He didn't know
how to do any of it! And for the first trick, he was supposed to get them across the boundary!

"Richard, I know you think I'm thrusting this responsibility on you unwisely, but it is not me who
chooses you. You are the one who has shown himself to be the. Seeker. I have only recognized the
fact. I have been a wizard a long time. You don't know what that entails, but you have to trust me
when I say that I'm qualified to recognize the one." Zedd reached across the table, across the sword,
and put his hand on Richard's. His eyes were somber. "Darken Rahl hunts you. Personally. The
only reason I can fathom for this is that with the insight he has gained from the magic of Orden, he
too knows you to be the one and so searches you out, to eliminate the threat."

Richard blinked in surprise. Maybe Zedd was right. Maybe this was the reason Rahl hunted him. Or
maybe not. Zedd didn't know about the book. He felt as if his mind would explode with all the
things filling his head, and suddenly he couldn't sit anymore. He stood up and began pacing,
thinking. Zedd folded his arms across his chest. Kahlan leaned an elbow on the table. Both watched
in silence as he paced.

The wisp had said to seek the answer or die. It didn't say it was necessary to become this Seeker.
He could find the answers in his own way, as he always had. He hadn't needed the sword to figure
out who the wizard was, although it hadn't been that hard.

But what was wrong with taking the sword? What could it hurt to have its help? Wouldn't it be
foolish to turn down any assistance? Apparently the sword could be put to any use its owner
wanted, so why not use it in the way he wanted? He didn't have to become an assassin, or anything
else. He could use it to help them, that was all. That was all that was needed, or wanted; no more

But. Richard knew why he didn't want it. He didn't like the way it had felt when he had drawn the
sword. It had felt good, and that bothered him. It had stirred his anger in a way that frightened him,
made him feel like -he had never felt before. The most disconcerting thing was that it felt right. He
didn't want to feel right about anger, didn't want to lose his control of it. Anger was wrong. That's
what his father had taught him. Anger had killed his mother. He kept his anger behind a locked
door he didn't want opened. No, he would do this in his own way, without the sword. He didn't
need it, 'didn't need the worry of it.

Richard turned to Zedd, who still sat with his arms folded across his chest, watching. The sunlight
gave Zedd's wrinkles deep shadows. The lines and sharp angles of his familiar face seemed
somehow different. He looked grim, resolute-somehow more like a wizard. Their eyes met and held
each other. Richard was decided. He would tell his friend no. He would help, and would stand by
them. His life, too, depended on this. But he would not be the Seeker. Before he could say so, Zedd
spoke.

"Kahlan, tell Richard how Darken Rahl questions people." His voice was quiet, calm. He didn't
look at her, instead continuing. to hold Richard's eyes.

Her voice was barely audible. "Zedd, please."

"Tell him." This time his voice was harder, more forceful. "Tell him what he does with the curved
knife he keeps at his belt."

Richard looked away from Zedd's eyes to her pale face. After a moment she held out her hand, and
looked up at him with sad, green eyes, beckoning him to come to her. He stood a moment, wary,
then came and took her hand. She pulled him down toward her. He sat, straddling the bench, facing
her, waiting for what it was she was bidden to say, fearing it.

Kahlan shifted toward him, hooking some hair behind an ear, and looked down at his right hand as
she held it in both of hers, stroking the back of it with her thumbs. Her fingers were gentle, soft,
and warm against his palm. The size of her hands made his seem awkwardly large. She spoke
quietly and didn't look up.

"Darken Rahl is a practitioner of an ancient form of magic called anthropomancy. He divines the
answers to questions by the inspection of living human entrails."

Richard felt his anger ignite.

"It's of limited use; he can at most get a yes or no to a single question, and sometimes, a name.
Nonetheless, he continues to favor its use. I'm sorry, Richard. Please forgive me for telling you
this."

Memories of his father's kindness, his laughter, his love, his friendship, their time together with the
secret book, and a thousand other brief glimpses tore through him in a flood of anguish. The scenes
and sounds converged into dim shadows and hollow echoes in Richard's mind and melted away. In
its pace, memories of the bloodstains on the floor, the white faces of the people there, images of his
father's pain and terror, and the things Chase had told him flashed vividly in snatches through his
mind. He didn't try to stop them, but instead pulled them onward, hungering for them. He washed
himself in the detail of it all, felt the twisting torment. Pain flared up from a pit deep inside him.
Invoked heedlessly, it came screaming forth. In his mind he added the shadowed figure of Darken
Rahl, hands dripping crimson blood, standing over his father's body, holding the red, glinting blade.
He held the vision before him, twisting it, inspecting it, drinking it into his soul. The picture was
complete now. He had his answers. He knew how it had been. How his father had died. Until now
that was all he had ever sought-answers. In his whole life, he had never gone beyond that simple
quest.

In one white-hot instant that changed.

The door that held back his anger, and the wall of reason containing his temper, burned away in a
flash of hot desire. A lifetime of rational thinking evaporated before his searing fury. Lucidity
became dross in a cauldron of molten need.

Richard reached out to the Sword of Truth, curled his fingers around the scabbard, gripping it
tighter and tighter until his knuckles were white. The muscles in his jaw flexed. His breathing came
fast and sharp. He saw nothing else of what was around him. The heat of anger surged forth from
the sword, not of its own volition, but summoned by the Seeker.

Richard's chest heaved with the burning hurt of his grief at knowing now what had happened to his
father, and with that knowledge there was closure, too. Thoughts he had never permitted himself to
have became his only desire. Caution and consequence vanished before a flood of lust for
vengeance.

In that instant, his only want, his only desire, his only need, was to kill Darken Rahl. Nothing else
had any significance.

With his other hand he reached out and seized the hilt of his sword to pull it free. Zedd's hand
clamped down over his. The Seeker's eyes snapped up, livid at the interference.

"Richard." Zedd's voice was gentle. "Calm down."

The Seeker, his muscles flexing powerfully, glowered into the other's tranquil eyes. Some part of
him, deep in the back of his mind, kept warning him, trying to regain control. He ignored the
warming. He bent over the table to the wizard, his teeth gritted.

"I accept the position of Seeker."

"Richard," -Zedd repeated calmly, "it's all right. Relax. Sit down."

The world came rushing back into his mind. He pulled his readiness to kill back a notch, but not his
rage. Not only the door, but also the wall that had contained his anger, was gone. Even though the
world about him had returned, it was a world seen through different eyes-eyes he had always had,
but had been afraid to use: the eyes of a Seeker.

Richard realized that he was standing. He didn't remember getting up. He sat again next to Kahlan,
removing his, hands from the sword. Something inside him regained control of his anger. It wasn't
the same as before, though. It didn't shut it away, didn't lock it behind a door, but pulled it back,
unafraid, to make it ready when needed again.

Some of his old self seeped back into his mind, calming him, slowing his breathing, reasoning
within him. He felt liberated, unafraid, unashamed of his temper for the first time. He allowed
himself to sit there while he uncoiled, feeling his muscles relax.

He looked up into Zedd's calm, undisturbed face. The old man, his thatch of white hair framing an
angular face set in a perceptive cast, studied him, assessed him with the slightest hint of a smile
fixed at the corners of his thin mouth.

"Congratulations," the wizard said. "You have passed my final test to become Seeker." Richard
pulled back in confusion. "What do you mean? You already appointed me Seeker."

Zedd shook his head slowly. "I told you before. Weren't you listening? A Seeker appoints himself.
Before you could become Seeker you had to pass one determinative test. You had to show me you
could use all your mind. For many years, Richard, you have kept part of it locked away. Your
anger. I had to know you could release it, call upon it. I've seen you angry, but you were unable to
admit your anger to yourself. A Seeker who couldn't allow himself to use his anger would be
hopelessly weak. It is the strength of rage that gives the heedless drive to prevail. Without the
anger, you would have turned down the sword, and I would have let you, because you wouldn't
have had what was required. But that is irrelevant now. You have proven you are no longer a
prisoner to your fears. Be cautioned, though. As important as it is to be able to use your rage, it is
equally important to be able to restrain it. You have always had that ability. Don't let yourself lose
it now. You must be wise enough to know which path to choose. Sometimes letting out the anger is
an even more grievous mistake than holding it in."

Richard nodded solemnly. He thought about the way it felt to hold the sword when he was in the
rage, the way he felt its power, the liberating sensation of giving himself over to the primal urge,
from within himself, and from the sword.

"The sword had magic," he said guardedly. "I felt it."

"It does. But Richard, magic is only a tool, like any other. When you use a whetstone to sharpen a
knife, you are simply making the knife work better for its intended purpose. Same way with the
magic. It's just a honing of the intent." Zedd's eyes were clear and sharp. "Some people are more
terrified to die by magic, than, say, by a blade, as if somehow one is less dead if killed by a blow or
cut than if killed by the unseen. But listen well. Dead is dead. The feat of the magic, though, can be
a powerful weapon. Keep that in mind."

Richard nodded. The late-afternoon sun warmed his face and

out of the corner of his eye he could see the cloud: Rahl would be watching it, too. Richard
remembered the man from the quad, on Blunt Cliff, how he had pulled his sword across his arm,
drawing blood before he attacked. He remembered the look in the man's eyes. He hadn't understood
it at the time; he understood it now. Richard hungered for the fight.

The leaves of the nearby trees , fluttered in the light autumn wind, glimmering with their first
touches of gold and red. Winter was coming; the first day of winter would soon be here. He thought
about how he would get them across the boundary. They had to get one of the boxes of Orden, and
when they found it, they would find Rahl.

"Zedd, no more games. I am Seeker now, no more tests. True?"

"True as toasted toads."

"Then we are wasting our time. I am sure Rahl is not wasting his." He turned to Kahlan. "I hold you
to your pledge to be my guide when we reach the Midlands."

She smiled at his impatience and nodded. Richard turned to Zedd.

"Show me how the magic works, wizard."

CHAPTER 1

0
ZEDD'S IMPISH SMILE SPREAD across his face. He handed Richard the baldric. The finely
tooled leather was old and supple. The gold and silver buckle matched the scabbard. It was adjusted
too small, its last user having been smaller than Richard. Zedd helped readjust it as Richard
strapped it across his right shoulder, and fit the Sword of Truth to it.

Zedd led them to the edge of-the grass, amid long shadows stretching from the nearby trees, to
where two small rock maples grew, one as thick as Richard's wrist, the other as thin as Kahlan's.

He turned to Richard. "Draw the sword." The unique ringing, metallic sound filled the lateafternoon air as the sword came free. Zedd leaned closer. "Now, I will show you the most important
thing about the sword, but to do so I need you to briefly abdicate your post as Seeker, and allow me
to name Kahlan Seeker."

Kahlan gave Zedd a suspicious glare. "I don't want to be Seeker." "Just for the purpose of
demonstration, dear one." He motioned for Richard to give her the sword. She hesitated before
taking it in both hands. The weight was uncomfortable; and she allowed the point to lower until it
rested on the grassy ground. Zedd waved his hands over her head with a flourish. "Kahlan Amnell,
I name you Seeker." She continued to give him the same suspicious stare. Zedd put his finger under
her chin, tilting her head up. His eyes had a fierce intensity. He put his face close to hers, speaking
in a low voice.

"When I left the Midlands with this sword, Darken Rahl used his magic to place the larger of these
two trees here, to mark me, to be able to come for me at a time of his choosing. So he could kill me.
The same Darken Rahl who had Dennee killed." Her countenance became darker. "The same
Darken Rahl who hunts you, to kill you like he killed your sister." Hate flared in her eyes. Her teeth
clenched, making the muscles in her strong jaw line stand out. The Sword of Truth rose from the
ground. Zedd stepped behind her. "This tree is his. You must stop him."

The blade flashed through the autumn air with speed and power Richard could scarcely believe.
The arc of its sweep went through the larger tree with a loud crack, like a thousand twigs snapping
at once. Splinters flew everywhere. The tree seemed to hang in the air a moment, then dropped
down next to the ragged stump before toppling over with a crash. Richard knew it would have
taken him at least ten blows with a good axe to have felled the maple.

Zedd slipped the sword from Kahlan's hands as she sank to her knees and rocked back on her heels,
putting her hands over her face with a moan. Instantly, Richard crouched at her side, steadying her.

"Kahlan, what's wrong?"

"I'm all right." She laid a hand on his shoulder as he helped her to her feet. Her face was pale as she
forced a small smile. "But I resign my post as Seeker."

Richard spun to the wizard. "Zedd, what is this nonsense? Darken Rahl didn't put that tree there.
I've seen you water and care for those two trees. If you held a knife to my throat, I'd say you
planted them there as a memorial to your wife and daughter."

Zedd gave only a small smile. "Very good, Richard. Here is your sword. You are Seeker again.
Now, my boy, you cut down the little tree, and then I will explain."

Annoyed, Richard took the sword in both hands, feeling the anger surge through him. He gave a
mighty swing at the remaining tree. The tip of the blade whistled as it sliced through the air. Just
before the blade hit the tree, it simply stopped, as if the very air about it had become too thick to
allow it to pass.

Richard stepped back in surprise. He looked at the sword, and then tried again. Same thing. The
tree was untouched. He glared over at Zedd, who stood with his arms folded and a smirk on his
face.

Richard slid the sword back into its scabbard. "All right, what's going on."

Zedd lifted his eyebrows with an innocent expression. "Did you see how easily Kahlan cut through
the bigger tree?" Richard frowned. Zedd smiled. "It could just as well have been iron. The blade
would have cut through it the same. But you are stronger than she, and you couldn't even scratch
the smaller tree."

"Yes, Zedd, I noticed."

Zedd's brows wrinkled in mock bewilderment. "And why do you think that is?"

Richard's irritation melted. This was the way Zedd often taught lessons, by making him come up
with the answer on his own. "I would say it has something to do with intent. She thought the tree
was evil, I didn't."

Zedd held up a bony finger. "Very good, my boy!"

Kahlan knitted her fingers together. "Zedd, I don't understand I destroyed the tree, but it wasn't evil.
It was innocent."

"That, dear one, is the point of the demonstration. Reality isn't relevant. Perception is everything. If
you think it is the enemy, you can destroy it, whether true or not. The magic interprets only your
perception. It won't allow you to harm someone you think innocent, but it will destroy whoever you
perceive to be the enemy, within limits. Only what you believe, and not the truth of your thoughts,
is the determining factor."

a Richard was a little overwhelmed. "That leaves no room for error. But what if you aren't sure?"

Zedd lifted an eyebrow. "You had better be sure, my boy, or you ate liable to find yourself in a lot
of trouble. The magic could read things in your mind you are not even aware of. It could go either
way. You could kill a friend, or fail to kill a foe."

Richard drummed his fingers on the hilt of the sword, thinking. He watched the setting sun offer
small golden flashes through the trees to the west. Overhead, the snakelike cloud had taken on a
reddish cast on one side, deepening into darker purple on the other. It didn't really matter, he
decided. He knew who he was after, and there was no doubt at all in his mind about him being the
enemy. None Whatsoever.

"There's one more thing. One more important thing," the wizard said. "When you use the sword
against an enemy, there is a price to pay. Is that not true, dear one?" He looked to her. Kahlan
nodded and lowered her eyes to the ground. "The more powerful the enemy, the higher the price. I
am sorry it was necessary to do that to you, Kahlan, but it is the most important lesson Richard
must learn." She gave him a small smile, letting him know that she understood the need. He turned
back to Richard.

"We both know that sometimes, killing is the only choice, that it has to be classified as the right
thing to do. I know you do not need to be told that any time you kill, though, it is a terrible thing.
You live with it always, and once done, it cannot be undone. You pay a price within yourself; it
diminishes you for having done it.",

Richard nodded; it still made him uneasy that he had killed the man on Blunt Cliff. He wasn't sorry
about what he had done; he had had no time or other choice, but in his mind he still saw the man's
face as he went over the edge.

Zedd's eyes became intense. "It is different when you kill with the Sword of Truth, because of the
magic. The magic has done your bidding, and it extracts a price. There is no such thing as pure
good or pure evil, least of all in people. In the best of us there are thoughts or deeds that are wicked,
and in the worst of us, at least some virtue. An adversary is not one who does loathsome acts for
their own sake. He always has a reason that to him is justification. My cat eats mice. Does that
make him bad? I don't think so, and the cat doesn't think so, but I would bet the mice have a
different opinion. Every murderer thinks the victim needed killing.

"I know you don't want to believe this, Richard, but you must listen. Darken Rahl does the things
he does, because he thinks them right, just as you do the things you do because you think them
right. The two of you are more the same in that than you think. You want revenge on him for
killing your father, and he wants revenge on me for killing his. In your eyes he is evil, but to his
eyes, you are the one who is evil. It is all just perception. Whoever wins thinks he was in the right.
The loser will always believe himself wronged. It is the same as with the magic of Orden: the
power is simply there; one use wins over the other."

"The same? Have you lost your mind? How could you think we are the same in any way! He craves
power! He would chance destroying the world to get it! I don't want power, I just wanted to be left
alone! He murdered my father! He ripped his guts out! He's trying to kill us all! How can you saw
we are alike? You make it sound like he isn't even dangerous!"

"Haven't you been paying attention to what I have just been teaching you? I said you are the same
in that you both think you are right. And that makes him more dangerous than you can imagine
because in every other way you are different. Darken Rahl savors bleeding the life from people. He
hungers for their pain. Your sense of right has bounds; his has none. His is twisted into an allconsuming lust to torture all opposition into submission, and he considers any who don't rush to
bow before him as opposition. His conscience was clear when he used his bare hands to calmly
extract your father's guts while he was still breathing. He found pleasure in the, doing because his
distorted sense of right gives him license. That is how he is very different from you. That is how
dangerous he is." He pointed back at Kahlan. "Weren't you paying attention? Didn't you see what
she was able to do with the sword? And how did she do what you could not? Hmm?"

"Perception," Richard said, in a much quieter voice. "She was able to do it because she thought she
was right."

Zedd thrust a finger in the air. "Aha! Perception is what makes the threat even more dangerous."
The wizard's finger came down and jabbed Richard's chest with each word. "Just . . . like . . . the
sword."

Richard hooked a thumb under the baldric and let out a deep breath. He felt as if he were standing
in quicksand, but he had lived with Zedd too long to dismiss the things he said simply because they
were hard to fathom. He longed for simplicity, though. "You mean that it's not only what he does
that makes him dangerous, but also what he feels justified in doing?"

Zedd shrugged. "Let me put it another way. Who would you be more afraid of; a two-hundredpound man who wants to steal a loaf of bread from you, and knows he is doing wrong, or a one
hundred-pound woman who believes, wrongly, but believes with all her heart, that you stole her
baby?"

Richard folded his arms across his chest. "I would run from the woman. She wouldn't give up. She
wouldn't listen to reason. She would be capable of anything."

Zedd's eyes were fierce. "So is Darken Rahl. Because he thinks he is right, he is that much more
dangerous."

Richard returned the fierce expression. "I am in the right."

Zedd's expression softened. "The mice think they are in the right, too, but my cat eats them just .the
same. I am trying to teach you something, Richard. I don't want you to get caught in his claws."

Richard unfolded his arms and sighed. "I don't like it, but I understand. As I have heard you say,
nothing is ever easy. While all of this in interesting, it isn't going to frighten me away from doing
what it is I must, what I believe to be right. So what is this business about a price to using the
Sword of Truth?"

Zedd held a thin finger to Richard's chest. "The payment is that you suffer the pain of seeing in
yourself all your own evil, all your own shortcomings, all the things we don't like to see in
ourselves, or admit are there. And you see the good in the one you have killed, suffer the guilt for
having done so." Zedd shook his head sadly. "Please believe me, Richard, the pain comes not only
from yourself, but more importantly, from the magic, a very powerful magic, a very powerful pain.
Do not underestimate it. It is real, and it punishes your body, as well as your soul. You saw it in
Kahlan, and that was from killing a tree. If it had been a man, it would have been profound. This is
why anger is so-important. Rage is the only armor you have against the pain; it gives' a measure of
protection. The stronger the enemy, the stronger the pain. But the stronger the rage, the stronger the
shield. It makes you care less about the truth of what you have done. In some cases enough to not
feel the pain. This is why I said the terrible things I did to Kahlan, things that hurt, and filled her
with rage. It was to protect her when she used the sword. You see why I wouldn't have allowed you
to take the sword, if you weren't able to use your anger? You would be naked before the magic; it
would tear you apart."

Richard was a little frightened by this, by the look in Kahlan's eyes after she had used the sword,
but it didn't dissuade him. He glanced up at the mountains of the boundary. They stood out, pale
pink in the light of the setting sun. Behind them, from the east, darkness was coming. Darkness
coming for them. He had to find a way across the boundary, into that darkness. The sword would
help him, that was what mattered. There was much at stake. There was a cost to everything in life;
he would pay this one.

His old friend placed his hands on Richard's shoulders and looked hard into his eyes. Zedd's
features were set in grim warning.

"Now I have to tell you something you are not going to like." His fingers tightened, almost
painfully. "You cannot use the Sword of Truth on Darken Rahl."

"What!"

Zedd gave him a shake. "He is too powerful. The magic of Orden protects him during the year of
search. If you try to use the sword, you will be dead before it reaches him."

"This is crazy! First you want me to be the Seeker and take the sword, now you tell me I can't use
it!" Richard was furious. He felt cheated.

"Just against Rahl, it won't work against him! Richard, I didn't make the magic, I only know how it
works. Darken Rahl knows how it works too. He may try to make you use the sword against him.
He knows it would kill you. If you give in to the rage and use the sword against him, he will win.
You will be dead and he will have the boxes."

Kahlan's brow wrinkled in frustration. "Zedd, I agree with Richard. This makes it impossible. If he
cannot use his most important weapon, then . . ."

Zedd cut her off. "No! This"-he rapped Richard on the head with his knuckles-"this is a Seeker's
most important weapon." He jabbed his long finger at the center of Richard's chest. "And this."

Everyone stood in silence for a moment.

"The Seeker is the weapon," Zedd said with emphasis. "The sword is just a tool. You can find
another way. You must."

Richard thought he should be upset, that he should feel angry, frustrated, overwhelmed, but he
didn't. His first view of his options lifted from him, letting him see beyond. He felt strangely calm
and determined.

"I'm sorry, my boy. I wish I could change the magic, but I ..."

Richard put his hand on Zedd's shoulder. "It's all right, my friend. You're right. We must stop Rahl.
That's all that matters. I have to know the truth to succeed, and you have given me the truth. Now
it's up to me to use it. If we gain one of the boxes, justice will have Rahl. I don't need to see it. I
need only know it is done. I said I wouldn't be an assassin, and so I shall not be. The sword will be
invaluable, I'm sure, but as you said, it's only a tool, and that's the purpose I will put it to. The
magic of the sword isn't an end in itself. I can't allow myself to make that mistake, or I will be only
a pretend Seeker."

In the gathering gloom, Zedd patted Richard affectionately on the shoulder. "You have gotten it all
right, my boy. All of it." He broke into a broad grin. "I have chosen the Seeker well. I am proud of
myself." Richard and Kahlan laughed at Zedd's self-congratulation.

Kahlan's smiled faded. "Zedd, I cut down the tree you planted in memory of your wife. That
bothers me. I'm deeply sorry for doing it."

"Don't be, dear one, her memory has aided us. She has helped show the Seeker the truth, there
could be no more fitting tribute to her."

Richard didn't hear them talking. Already he was looking to the east, to the massive wall of
mountains, trying to think of solutions. Cross the boundary, he thought, cross the boundary without
going through it. How? What if it was impossible? What if there was no way across the boundary?
Would they be stuck here while Darken Rahl searched for the boxes? Were they to die without a
chance? He wished there were more time and fewer limitations. Richard reprimanded himself for
wasting time wishing.

If only he knew it could be done, then he could find out how. Something in the back of his mind
nagged at him, insisting that it could be done, insisting he knew the truth of it. There was a way,
there had to be. If he only knew that it was possible.

All around them, the night was coming alive with sounds. Frogs called from the ponds and streams,
night birds from the trees, and insects from the grass. From the distant hills came the cry of wolves,
mournful and plaintive- against the dark wall of mountains. Somehow they had to cross those
mountains, cross the unknown.

The mountains were like the boundary, he thought. You couldn't go through them, but you could
cross them. You had only to find a pass. A pass. Was it possible? Could there be one?

Then it struck him like a bolt of lightning.

The book.

Richard spun on his heels, excited. To his surprise Zedd and Kahlan were both standing quietly,
watching him, as if waiting for a pronouncement.

"Zedd, have you ever helped anyone other than yourself go through the boundary?"

"Like who?"

"Anyone! Yes or no!"

"No. No one."

"Can anyone other than a wizard send a person through the boundary?"

Zedd shook his head emphatically. "None but a wizard. And Darken Rahl, of course."

Richard frowned at him. "Our lives depend on this, Zedd. Swear. You have never, ever, sent
anyone other than yourself through the boundary. True?"

"True as a boiling bog full of toasted toads. Why? What have you thought of? Do you have a way?"

Richard ignored the question, too deep in his own stream of thought to answer, and instead turned
back to the mountains. It was true; there was a pass across the boundary! His father had found it,
and used it! That was the only way the Book of Counted Shadows could have been in Westland. He
couldn't have brought it with him when he moved here, before the boundary, and he couldn't have
found it in Westland; the book had magic. The boundary wouldn't have worked if magic had been
here then. Magic could only be brought, into Westland after the boundary was up.

His father had found a pass, gone into the Midlands, and brought the book back. Richard was
shocked and excited at the same time. His father had done it! He had gone across the boundary.
Richard was elated. Now he knew there Was a way across; it could be done. He still had to find the
pass, but that didn't matter for now. There was a pass; that was what mattered.

Richard turned back to the other two. "We will go have supper."

"I put a stew on, just before you awoke, and there is fresh bread," Kahlan offered.

"Bags!" Zedd threw his scarecrow arms up into the air. "It's about time someone remembered
supper!"

Richard gave a little smile in the dark. "After we've eaten, we'll make preparations, decide what we
need to take, what we, can carry, get our provisions together and packed tonight. We'll need to get a
good night's sleep. We leave at first light." He turned and headed for the house. The faint glow of
the fire coming from the windows offered warmth and light.

Zedd held up an arm. "Where are we headed, my boy?"

"The Midlands," Richard called back over his shoulder.

-+---
Zedd was halfway through his second bowl of stew before he could bring himself to stop eating
long enough to talk. "So, what have you Figured out? Is there truly a way to cross the boundary?"

"There is."

"Are you sure? How can it be? How can we cross without going through?"

Richard smiled as he stirred his stew. "You don't have to get wet to cross -a river." The lamp light
flickered on their faces as Kahlan and Zedd frowned in puzzlement. Kahlan turned and threw a
small piece of meat to the cat, who was sitting on his haunches, waiting for any handout. Zedd ate
another slab of bread before he was able to ask his next question.

"And how do- you know there is a way across?"

"There is. That's all that matters."

Zedd had an innocent look on his face. "Richard." He ate two more spoonfuls of stew. "We are
your friends. There are no secrets among us. You can tell us."

Richard looked from one big pair of eyes to the other, and laughed out loud. "I've had strangers tell
me more of themselves."

Zedd and Kahlan both backed away a little at the rebuff and looked at each other, but neither dared
repeat the question.

They talked on as they ate, of what they had at hand to take with them, how much they could do to
prepare in such a short time, and what their priorities should be. They listed everything they could
think of, each offering items to be taken. There was much to do and little time. Richard asked
Kahlan if she traveled the Midlands often. She said that was almost all she ever did.

"And you wear that dress when you travel'

"I do." She hesitated. "People recognize me by it. I don't stay in the woods. Wherever I go, I am
always provided with food and a place to stay, and anything else I might require."

Richard wondered why. He didn't press, but he knew the dress she wore was more than something
she bought in a shop. "Well, with the three of us being hunted, I don't think we want people to
recognize you. I think we need to stay away from people as much as possible, keep to the woods
when we can." She and Zedd both nodded their agreement. "We will need to find you some
traveling clothes, forest garb, but there is nothing here that will fit you. We'll have to find
something on the way. I have a hooded cloak here. It will keep you warm for now."

"Good," she said smiling, "I'm tired of being cold, and I can tell you, a dress is not right for the
woods."

Kahlan finished before the men and put her half-full bowl on the floor for the cat. The cat seemed
to have the same appetite as Zedd and was eating out of the bowl before she could set it down.

They discussed each item they would take, and planned how they would do without others. There
was no telling how. long they would be gone, -but Westland was a big place, and the Midlands
bigger. Richard wished they could go to his house, since he often went on long treks and had the
right kinds of provisions, but it was too big a risk. He would rather find the things they needed
elsewhere, or go without, than go back to what waited there. He didn't know yet where they were
going to cross the boundary, but he wasn't worried. He still had until morning to think about it. He
was just relieved to know there was a way.

The cat's head came up. He crossed half the distance to the door and stopped, back and fur rising.
Everyone noticed and fell silent. There was firelight in the front window, but it wasn't reflecting
from the hearth. It was coming from outside.

"I smell burning pitch," Kahlan said.

In an instant the three were on their feet. Richard grabbed the sword from the back of his chair and
had it on almost before he was to his feet. He went to look out the window, but Zedd didn't waste
the time and went through the door in a rush with Kahlan in tow. Richard got only a glimpse of
torches before he hurried out after the other two.

Spread out in the long grass in front of the house was a mob of about fifty men, some carrying
torches, but most carrying crude weapons, axes, pitchforks, scythes, or axe handles. They were
dressed in their work clothes. ,Richard recognized many of the faces, good men, honest,
hardworking family men. They didn't look like good men this night, though. They looked to be in a
foul mood, their faces grim and angry. Zedd stood in the center of the porch, hands on his skinny
hips, smiling out at them, the red light from the torches making his white hair pink.

"What's this then, boys?" Zedd asked.

They mumbled among themselves, and several men in front took a step or two forward. Richard
knew the one, John, who spoke for the rest.

"There's trouble about. Trouble caused by magic! And you're at the bottom of it, old man! You're a
witch!"

"A witch?" Zedd asked in bewilderment. "A witch?" "That's what I said, a witch!" John's dark eyes
shifted to Richard and Kahlan. "This doesn't concern you two. Our business is with the old man.
Leave now or you'll get the same as him." Richard couldn't believe the men he knew were saying
this.

Kahlan came forward, stepping in front of Zedd, the folds of her dress swirling around her legs
when she stopped. She held her fists at her sides. "Leave now," she warned menacingly, "before
you come to regret what you have chosen to do."

The mob of men looked around at each other, some smirking, some making crude comments under
their breath, some laughing. Kahlan stood her ground and stared them down. The laughter died out.

"So," John said with a sneer, "two witches to take care of." The men cheered and hollered,
brandishing their weapons. John's round, heavyset face smiled defiantly.

Richard stepped slowly and deliberately in front of Kahlan, putting a hand behind as he did so,
forcing her and Zedd to step back. He kept his voice calm, friendly. "John. How's Sara? I haven't
seen you two for a while." John didn't answer. Richard surveyed the other faces. "I know many of
you, know you to be good men. This isn't something you want to do." He looked back at John.
"Take your men and go home to your families. Please, John?"

John pointed an axe handle at Zedd. "That old man's a witch! We're going to put an end to him." He
pointed at Kahlan. "And her! Unless you want the same, Richard, be on your way!" The mob yelled
their agreement. The torches sizzled and popped as they burned, and the air smelled of burning
pitch and sweat. When they realized that Richard wasn't leaving, the rabble started to push forward.

The sword was free in a blink. The men took a step back as the metallic ringing filled the night air.
John stood in red-faced anger. The ringing died out, and the only sound was from the burning
torches. Grumbling broke out about Richard being in with the witches.

John charged, swinging the axe handle at. Richard as he came. The sword flashed through the air,
splintering John's weapon with a loud crack. Only two ragged inches of the axe handle were left
above his fist. The severed piece of wood spun off into the darkness, landing somewhere with a
hollow thud.

John stood frozen, one foot on the ground, one on the porch, and the point of the Sword of Truth
pressed to the underside of his ample chin. The polished blade glinted in the torchlight. Richard, his
muscles hard with restrained need, slowly bent forward and with the sword point tilted John's face
up to his own. In a voice barely more than a whisper, but so deadly cold it make John stop
breathing, he said, "Another step, John, and your head follows." John didn't move, didn't breathe.
"Back away," Richard hissed.

The man did as he was ordered, but when back with his fellows, regained his nerve. "You can't stop
us, Richard, we're here to save our families."

"From what!" Richard yelled. He pointed the sword at one of the other men. "Frank! When your
wife was sick, wasn't it Zedd who brought her a potion that made her well?" He pointed the sword
to another. "And Bill, didn't you come and ask Zedd about the rains, when they would come so you
fellows could harvest your crops?" He whipped the sword's point back to his attacker. "And John,
when your little girl was lost in the woods, was it not Zedd who read the clouds all night and then
went out himself and found her and brought her back, safe, to you and Sara?" John and a few others
cast their eyes downward. Richard angrily drove the sword back into its scabbard. "Zedd has helped
most of the men here. He has helped heal your fevers, find lost loved ones, and freely shared
anything he has with you."

From the back someone yelled out, "Only a witch could do all those things!"

"He has done nothing to harm a single one of you!" Richard paced back and forth across the porch,
facing the men down. "He has never harmed one of you! He's helped most of you! Why would you
want to harm a friend!"

There was some confused grumbling for a few minutes, before they regained their conviction.
"Most of the things he's done are magic!" John shouted. "A witch's magic! None of our families are
safe with him around!"

Before Richard could answer, Zedd was pulling him back by his arm. He turned to the old man's
smiling face. Zedd didn't seem to be bothered in the least. If anything, he seemed to be enjoying
himself.

"Very impressive," he whispered, "both of you, very impressive. If you would, though, let me
handle it from here?" He lifted an eyebrow, then turned to the men. "Gentlemen, good evening.
How nice to see you all." Some of the men gave a greeting in return. A few lifted their hats selfconsciously. "If you would be so kind, before you dispatch me, let me talk a moment with my two
friends here?" There were nods all around. Zedd pulled Kahlan and Richard back a little toward the
house, away from the crowd, and bent close.

"A lesson in power, my friends." He put a sticklike finger on Kahlan's nose. "Too little." Next he
put the finger on Richard's nose. "Too much." He put the finger to his own nose, and with a twinkle
in his eyes said, "Just right." He cupped Kahlan's chin in his hand. "If I were to let you do this, dear
one, there would be graves to be dug this night. Our three would be among them. But very noble
nonetheless. Thank you for your concern for me." He put his hand on Richard's shoulder. "If I were
to let you do this, there would be a great many graves to be dug, and the three of us would be the
only ones left to do the digging. I am too old to dig that many holes in the ground, and we have
more important things to do. But you were very noble too; you handled yourself honorably." He
patted Richard's shoulder and then put a finger under each of their chins.

"Now, I want you two to let me handle this matter. The problem is not what you are telling these
men. The problem is they aren't listening. You have to get their attention before they will hear
you." He lifted an eyebrow and looked to each in turn. "Watch and learn what you can. Listen to
my words, but they will have no effect on you." He removed his finger and shuffled past them,
smiling and waving to the men.

"Gentlemen. Oh, John, how is your little girl?"

"She's fine," he grumbled, "but one of my cows had a two headed calf."

"Really? And how do you think that happened?"

"I think it happened because you're a witch!"

"There, you said it again." Zedd shook his head in confusion. "I don't understand. Do you
gentlemen want to do away with me because you think I have magic, or is it simply your intention
to demean me by calling me a woman?"

There was some confusion. "We don't know what you're talking about," someone said.

"Well, it's simple. Girls are witches. Boys are called warlocks. Do you see my point? If you call me
a witch, you seem to be calling me a girl. If what you mean is that you think me a warlock, well,
that is an altogether different insult. So, which is it? Girl or warlock:"

There was more confused discussion, then John spoke up, angry. "We mean to say you're a
warlock, and we intend to have your hide for it!"

"My, my, my," Zedd said, tapping his lower lip thoughtfully with the tip of his finger. "Why, I had
no idea you men were so brave. So very brave indeed."

"How's that?" John asked.

Zedd shrugged. "Well, what is it you think a warlock capable of?"

There was more talk among themselves. They started shouting out suggestions. He could make
two-headed cows, make the rains come, find people who were lost, make children be stillborn,
make strong men weak and make their women leave them. Somehow this didn't seem to be
sufficient, so more ideas were shouted out. Make water burn, turn people into cripples, change a
man into a toad, kill with a look, call upon demons, and in general, everything else.

Zedd waited until they were done, and then held his arms out to them. "There you have it. Just as I
said, you men are the bravest fellows I have ever seen! To think, armed only with pitchforks and
axe handles, you come to do battle with a warlock who has these kinds of powers. My, my, how
brave." His voice trailed off. Zedd shook his head in wonderment. Worry started to break out in the
crowd.

Zedd went on, in a drawn-out, monotonous tone, suggesting the things a warlock could do,
describing in great detail a variety of deeds from the frivolous to the terrifying. The men stood,
transfixed, listening in rapt attention. He went on and on for a good half hour. Richard and Kahlan
listened, shifting their weight as they became bored and tired. The eyes of the mob were wide,
unblinking. They stood like statues, the dancing flames from their torches the only motion among
the men.

The mood had changed. There was no longer anger. Now there was fear. The wizard's voice
changed, too; no longer kind and gentle, or even dull, it was harsh and threatening.

"And so, men, what do you think it is we should do now?"

"We think you should let us go home, unharmed," came the weak reply. The others nodded with
agreement.

The wizard waggled a long finger in the air in front of them. "No, I don't think so. You see, you
men came here to kill me. My life is the most precious thing I have, and you intended to take it
from me. I can't let that go unpunished." Quaking and fear swept through the crowd. Zedd stepped
to the edge of the porch. The men took a step back. "As punishment for trying to take my life, I take
from you, not your life, but that which is most precious, most dear, most valuable!" With a flourish,
he swept his hand dramatically over their heads. They gasped. "There. It is done," he declared.
Richard and Kahlan, who had been leaning against the house, stood up straight.

For a moment no one. moved; then a fellow in the midst of the mob thrust his hand into his pocket
and felt around. "My gold. It's gone."

Zedd rolled his eyes. "No, no, no. I said the most precious, the most dear. That which you pride
above all else."

Everyone stood a moment, confused. Then a few eyebrows went up in alarm. Another man
suddenly thrust .his hand into his pocket and felt around, eyes wide in fright. He moaned and then
fainted. The ones near by drew back from him. Soon others were putting their hands in their
pockets, cautiously feeling around. There were more moans and wails, and soon all the men were
grabbing at their crotches in a panic. Zedd smiled in satisfaction. Pandemonium broke out among
the mob. Men were jumping up and down, crying, grabbing at themselves, running around in little
circles, asking for help, falling on the ground, and sobbing.

"Now, you men get out of here! Leave!" Zedd yelled. He turned to Richard and Kahlan; an impish
grin on his face wrinkled his nose. He winked at them both.

"Please, Zedd!" a few men called out. "Please don't leave us like this! Please help us!" There were
pleas all around. Zedd waited a few moments and turned back to them.

"What's this? Do you men think I have been too harsh?" He asked with mock wonder and sincerity.
There was quick agreement that he had been. "And why do you think this? Have you learned
something?"

"Yes!" John yelled. "We realize now that Richard was right. You have been our friend. You have
never done anything to harm any of us." Everyone shouted their agreement. "You have only helped
us, and we acted stupidly. We want to ask your forgiveness. We know, just like Richard said, that
we were wrong, that using magic doesn't make you bad. Please, Zedd, don't stop being our friend
now. Please don't leave us like this." There were more pleas shouted out.

Zedd tapped a finger on his bottom lip. "Well-" He looked up, thinking. "-I guess I could put things
back to the way they were." The men moved closer. "But only if you all agree to my terms. I think
them quite fair, though." They were ready to agree to anything. "All right, then, if you agree to tell
anyone who speaks up, from now on, that magic doesn't make a person bad; that their actions are
what count; and if you go home to your families and tell them you almost made a terrible mistake
tonight, and why you were wrong, then you will all be restored. Fair?"

There was nodding from everyone. "More than fair," John said "Thank you, Zedd." The men turned
and began to leave, quickly. Zedd stood and watched.

"Oh, gentlemen, one more thing." They froze. "Please pick up your tools from the ground. I'm an
old man. I could easily trip and hurt myself." They kept a cautious eye to him as they reached out
and snatched up their weapons; then turned and walked a ways before breaking into a run:

Richard came and waited to one side of Zedd, Kahlan to the other. Zedd stood with his hands on his
bony hips, watching the men go. "Idiots," he muttered under his breath. It was dark. The, only light
came from the front window of the house behind them, and Richard could barely see Zedd's face,
but he could see it well enough to see he wasn't smiling. "My friends," the old man said, "that was a
stew stirred by a hidden hand." "Zedd," Kahlan asked, diverting her eyes from his face, "did you
really make . . . well, you know, make their manhood vanish?"

Zedd chuckled. "That would be quite the magic! Beyond me, I'm afraid. No, dear one, I only
tricked them into thinking I had. Simply convinced them of the truth of it, let their own minds do
the work."

Richard turned to the wizard. "A trick? It was just a trick? I thought you had done real magic." He
seemed somehow disappointed.

Zedd shrugged. "Sometimes if a trick is done properly, it can work better than magic. In fact, I
would go so far as to say a good trick is real magic."

"But still, it was just a trick."

The wizard held up a finger. "Results, Richard. That's what counts. Your way, those men would
have all lost their heads."

Richard grinned. "Zedd, I think some of them would have preferred that over what you did to
them." Zedd chuckled. "So is that what you wanted us to watch and learn? That a trick can work as
well as magic?"

"Yes, but also something more important. As I said, this was a stew stirred by a hidden hand, the
hand of Darken Rahl. But he has made a mistake tonight; it is a mistake to use insufficient force to
finish the job. In so doing, you give your enemy a second chance. That is the lesson I want you to
learn. Learn it well; you may not get a second chance when your time comes."

Richard frowned. "I wonder why he did it then?"

Zedd shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe because he doesn't have enough power in this land yet, but
then it also was a mistake to try, because it only served to warn us."

They started toward the door. There was a lot of work to do before they could sleep. Richard began
going through the list in his head but was distracted by an odd feeling.

Suddenly, realization washed over him like cold water. Richard inhaled in a gasp. He spun around,
eyes wide, and grabbed a fistful of Zedd's robes.

"We have to get out of here! Right now!"

"What?"

"Zedd! Darken Rahl-isn't stupid! He wants us to feel safe, to feel confident! He knew we were
smart enough to beat those men, one way or another. In fact he wanted us to, so we would sit
around congratulating ourselves while he comes for us himself. He doesn't fear you-you said he's
stronger than a wizard-he doesn't fear the sword, and he doesn't fear Kahlan. He's on his way here
right now! His plan is to get us all at the same time, right now, this very night! He hasn't made a
mistake, this was his plan. You said it yourself, sometimes a trick is better than magic. That's what
he's doing; this was all a trick to distract us!"

Kahlan's face went white. "Zedd, Richard is right. This is how Rahl thinks, the mark of his way. He
likes to do things in a manner you do not expect. We have to get out of here this very minute."

"Bags! I have been an old fool! You are right. We must leave now, but I can't leave without my
rock." He started off around the house.

"Zedd, there's no time!"

The old man was already running up the hill, robes and hair flying, off into the darkness. Kahlan
followed Richard into the house. They had been lulled into laziness. He couldn't believe how
foolish he had been to underestimate Rahl. Snatching up his pack from the corner by the hearth, he
ran into his room, checking under his shirt for the tooth. Finding it safe, he came back with his
forest cloak. Richard threw it around Kahlan's shoulders and took a quick glance around to see if
there was anything else he could grab, but there was no time to think, nothing worth their lives, so
he took her by the aim and headed for the door. Outside, in the grass in front of the house, Zedd
was already back, breathing hard.

"What about the rock?" Richard asked. There was no way Zedd could lift it, much less carry it.

"In my pocket," the wizard said with a smile. Richard couldn't spare the time to wonder at this. The
cat was suddenly there, somehow aware of their urgency, rubbing up against their legs. Zedd
picked it up. "Can't leave you here, Cat. There's trouble coming." Zedd lifted the flap of Richard's
pack and tucked 'the cat inside.

Richard had an uneasy feeling. He looked about, scanning the darkness, seeking something out of
place, something hidden. He saw nothing, but felt eyes watching.

Kahlan noticed his searching. "What's wrong?"

Even though he could see nothing, he felt the eyes. It must be his fear, he decided. "Nothing. Let's
go."

Richard led them through a sparsely wooded area he knew well enough to walk blindfolded, to the
trail he wanted, and turned south. They moved along quickly in silence, with the exception of Zedd
muttering occasionally about how stupid he had been. After a while, Kahlan told him he was too
reproachful of himself. They had all been fooled, and each felt the sting of blame, but they had
made good their escape, and that was all that mattered.

It was an easy trail, almost a road, and the company of three walked side by side, Richard in the
middle, Zedd to his left, Kahlan to his right. The cat poked his head up from Richard's backpack
and looked about as they walked. It was a mode of travel he had enjoyed since he was a kitten. The
moonlight was enough to light their way. Richard saw a few wayward pines looming against the
sky, but he knew there could be no stopping. They had to get away from here. The night was cold
but he was warm enough with the effort of their rapid pace. Kahlan wrapped his cloak tightly
around herself.

After about a half hour Zedd brought them to a halt. He reached into his robes and pulled out a
small handful of powder. He threw it back down the path, the way they had come. Silver sparkles
shot from his hand and followed their trail back into the darkness. The sparkles tinkled as they
went, disappearing around a bend.

Richard started back up the trail. "What was that?"

"Just a little magic dust. It will cover our trail, so Rahl won't know where we went."

"He still has the cloud to follow us with."

"Yes, but that will only give him a general area. If we keep moving, it will be of little use to him.
It's only when you stop, like you did at my house, that he can hunt you."

They continued on to the south, the trail taking them through sweet-smelling pines and higher into
the hill country. At the top of a rise they all turned suddenly at a roaring sound behind. Off beyond
the dark expanse of the forest, in the distance, they saw an immense column of flame shooting
skyward, yellows and reds reaching up into the blackness.

"It's my house. Darken Rahl is there." Zedd smiled. "He looks 1 to be angry."

Kahlan touched his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Zedd."

"Don't be, dear one. It's just an old house. It could have been us."

Kahlan turned to Richard as they started out again. "Do you know where we are going?"

Richard, abruptly realized he did. "I do." He smiled to himself, glad to be telling the truth.

The three figures fled into the dark shadows of the trail, into the night.

Overhead, two huge winged beasts watched with hungry, glowing green eyes, and then pitched
themselves into steep, silent dives. Wings tucked back for speed, they plummeted toward the backs
of their prey

CHAPTER 1

1
IT WAS THE CAT that saved him. He yowled and leapt over Richard's head in a fright, causing
him to duck, not enough for the gar to miss him, but enough to deflect the full impact. Still, the
claws raked his back painfully and knocked him sprawling facedown into the dirt, driving the wind
from his lungs in a whoosh. Before he could take a breath the gar pounced on his back, its weight
preventing him from breathing or reaching his sword. Before he went down he had seen Zedd sent
tumbling into the trees by a second gar, and now it went crashing through the brush after him.

Richard braced himself for the claws he knew would come. Before the gar could rip him open,
Kahlan heaved rocks at it from the side of the path. They bounced harmlessly off the blast's head,
but it was distracted momentarily. The gar roared, mouth agape, seeming to split the night air with
the sound, and held him pinned like a mouse beneath a cat's paw. Richard struggled mightily to lift
himself, his lungs burning for air. Blood flies bit his neck. He reached behind, pulling out handfuls
of fur, trying to get the great arm off his back. By its size he knew it had to be a short-tailed gar; it
was much bigger than the long-tailed gar he had seen before. The sword was under him, digging
painfully into his abdomen. He couldn't get to it. It felt as if the veins in his neck would burst.

Richard was beginning to black out. The sounds of yelling and roars from the gar were growing
fainter as he struggled. Kahlan got too close in her flurry of rock throwing. The gar reached out
with frightening quickness and snatched her by the hair. Doing so caused the beast to shift its
weight enough to let Richard gasp desperately for air, but not enough to allow him to move. Kahlan
screamed.

Out of nowhere, the cat, all teeth and claws; sprang to the gar's face. The cat howled, clawing
furiously at the gar's eyes. With one arm holding Kahlan, it lifted the other to swipe at the cat.

When it did, Richard rolled to the side and sprang to his feet, drawing his sword. Kahlan screamed
again. Richard swung in fury, severing the arm that held her. She tumbled back, free. Howling, the
gar backhanding him before he could bring the sword up. The force of the blow sent him flying
through the air, landing on his back.

Richard sat up, the world spinning and tilting. The sword was gone, thrown into the brush
somewhere. The gar was in the center of the trail, wailing in pain and rage as blood gushed from
the stump. Glowing green eyes searched frantically for the object of its hate. They locked on
Richard. Ht didn't see Kahlan anywhere.

Off to his right, in the trees, there was a sudden blinding flash, illuminating everything with intense,
white light. The violent sound of an explosion hammered painfully into his ears as the concussion
from the blast tumbled him against a tree and knocked the gar from its feet. Rolling flames whirled
through gaps in the trees. Giant splinters and other debris hurtled past, streaming trailers of smoke.

Richard began a frantic search for the sword as the gar came to its feet with a howl. Richard felt
around on the ground, desperate, and partially blinded from the flash of the explosion. He had
enough vision, though, to see the gar coming. His anger flared. He could feel it flare in the sword,
too. The sword's magic reached out to him, beckoned by its master. He called it forth, summoned it,
hungered for it. It was there, across the trail. He knew it as surely as if he could see it. He knew
exactly where it lay, as if he were touching it. He scrambled across the trail.

Halfway there the gar kicked him so hard he saw things moving past but couldn't understand what
they were. All he knew for sure was that every breath caused intense pain in his left side. He didn't
know where the trail was or where he was in relation to it. Blood flies were bumping into his face.
He couldn't get his bearings. But he did know where the Sword of Truth was.

He dove for it.

For an instant his fingers touched it. For an instant he thought he saw Zedd. Then the gar had him.
It picked him up by his right arm and wrapped its repulsive, warm wings about him, hugging him
close, his feet dangling in midair. He cried out from the sharp pain in his left ribs. Glowing green
eyes burned into his, and the giant mouth snapped, showing him his fate. The immense maw split
open for him, its fetid breath on his face, its black throat waiting. Wet fangs glistened in the
moonlight.

With all his strength, Richard kicked his boot into the-stump of the gar's arm. It threw its head
back, howled in pain, and dropped him.

Zedd emerged at the edge of the trees a dozen yards behind the gar. Richard, on his knees, grabbed
the sword. Zedd threw his hands out, fingers extended. Fire, wizard's fire, shot from his fingers and
came shrieking through the air. The fire grew and tumbled, illuminating everything it passed,
becoming a blue and yellow ball of liquid flame that wailed and expanded as it came, a thing alive.
It hit the gar's back with a thud, silhouetting the giant beast against the light. Within the space of a
breath the blue-and-yellow flames washed over the gar, enveloping it, surging through it. Blood
flies sparked into nothingness. Fire sizzled and snapped everywhere on the creature, consuming it.
The gar disappeared into the blue heat and was gone. The fire swirled a moment and then it, too,
was gone. The smell of burnt fur, and a hazy smoke, hung in the air. The night was suddenly quiet.

Richard collapsed, exhausted and in pain. The gashes on his back had dirt and gravel ground into
them, and the pain in his left side seared into him with every breath. He wanted only to lie there,
nothing more. The sword was still in his hand. He let the power of it wash through him, sustain
him. He allowed the anger of it to let him ignore the pain.

The cat licked Richard's face with his rough tongue and nuzzled the top of his head against
Richard's cheek. "Thank you, Cat," he managed. Zedd and Kahlan appeared over him. Both bent
down to take his arms and help lift him up.

"No! You'll hurt me if you do that. Let me get up by myself."

"What's wrong?" Zedd asked.

"The gar kicked me in the left side. It hurts."

"Let me look." The old man bent over and ,gently felt Richard's ribs. Richard winced in pain.
"Well, I don't see any bones sticking out. Can't be that bad."

Richard tried not to laugh, as he knew it would hurt. He was right. "Zedd, that was no trick. This
time it was magic."

"This time it was magic," the wizard confirmed. "But Darken Rahl may have seen it too, if he was
looking. We have to get out of here. Lie still, let me see if I can help."

Kahlan knelt on his other side and cupped her hand on his, on the hand that held the sword, held the
magic. When her hand touched his, he felt a surge of power from the sword that startled him and
nearly took his breath away. Somehow, he felt the magic was warning him, and trying to protect
him.

Kahlan smiled down at him. She hadn't felt it.

Zedd put one hand on Richard's ribs and a finger under his chin as he spoke in a soft, calm,
reassuring voice. As he listened to Zedd, Richard dismissed the sword's reaction to Kahlan's touch
on his hand. His old friend told him that three of his ribs were injured and that he was putting
magic around them to strengthen and protect them until they could heal. He continued to talk in his
special way, telling Richard how the pain would be reduced, but not gone, until the ribs were
healed. He spoke more, but the words seemed somehow not to matter. When Zedd finished at last,
Richard felt as if he were waking from sleep.

He sat up. The pain had lessened greatly. He thanked the old man and got to his feet. He put the
sword away and picked up the cat, thanking him again. He handed the cat to Kahlan for her to hold
while he searched for his pack and found it near the side of the trail where it had been thrown in the
fight. The gashes on his back were painful, but he would worry about them when they got to where
they were going. When the other two weren't looking, he slipped the tooth from his neck and put it
in his pocket.

Richard asked the other two if they were hurt. Zedd seemed insulted by the question. He insisted he
wasn't as frail as he looked. Kahlan said she was fine, thanks to him. Richard told her he hoped
never to get in a rock-throwing contest with her. She gave him a big smile as she put Cat in his
backpack. He watched as she picked up the cloak and put it around her shoulders, wondering at the
way the sword's magic had reacted when she had touched his hand.

"We had better be leaving," Zedd reminded them.

After about a mile, several smaller paths intersected theirs. Richard led them down the one he
wanted. The wizard spread more of his magic dust to hide their trail. Their way was narrower now,
so they walked single file, with Richard in the lead, Kahlan in the middle, and Zedd in the rear. The
three of them kept a wary eye to the sky as they walked along. Even though it was uncomfortable to
do so, Richard walked with his hand on the hilt of the sword.

-+---
Shadows in the moonlight swept back and forth across the heavy oak door and its iron strap hinges
as the wind bowed branches close to the house. Kahlan and Zedd didn't want to climb the spiked
fence, so Richard had left them on the other side to wait. He was just starting to reach up to knock
on the door, when a big fist grabbed his hair and a knife pressed against his throat. He froze.

"Chase?" he whispered hopefully.

The hand released his hair. "Richard! What are you doing lurking about in the middle of the night!
You know better than to sneak up to my place."

"I wasn't sneaking. I didn't want to wake the whole house."

"There's blood all over you. How much is yours?"

"Most of it, I'm sorry to say. Chase, go unlock your gate. Kahlan and Zedd are waiting out there.
We need you." Chase, cursing as he stepped on twigs and acorns with his bare feet, unlocked the
gate, and shepherded them alt into the house.

Emma Brandstone, Chase's wife, was a kind, friendly woman, always wearing a smile on her bright
face. She seemed the complete opposite of Chase. Emma would be mortified if she thought she had
intimidated anyone, while Chase's day wouldn't be complete unless he had. Emma was like Chase
in one respect, though. Nothing ever seemed to surprise or fluster her. She was typically unruffled
at this late hour as she stood in her long, white nightdress, her gray-streaked hair tied back, .making
tea as the rest of them sat at the table. She smiled, as if it were normal ,to have blood-streaked
guests come visiting in the middle of the night. But then, with Chase, it sometimes was.

Richard hung his pack over the back of his chair, taking the cat out and handing him to Kahlan. She
put him in her lap, where he immediately began purring as she stroked his back. Zedd sat to his
other side. Chase put a shirt over his big frame and lit several lamps that hung from heavy oak
beams. Chase had felled the trees, hewed the beams out, and placed them by himself. The names of
the children were carved along the side of one. Behind his chair at the table was a fireplace made of
stones he had collected in his travels over the years. Each had a unique shape, color, and texture.
Chase would tell anyone who would listen where each had come from, and what sort of trouble he
had encountered in retrieving it. A simple wooden bowl, full of apples, sat in the center of the stout
pine table.

Emma removed the bowl of apples and replaced it with a pot of tea and a jar of honey, then passed
around mugs. She told Richard to remove his shirt and turn his chair so she could clean his wounds,
a task not unfamiliar to her. With a stiff brush and hot soapy water she scrubbed his back as if she
were cleaning a dirty kettle.

Richard bit his bottom lip, holding his breath at times, and scrunched his eyes closed in pain as she
worked. She apologized for hurting him, but said she had to get all the dirt out or it would be worse
later. When she was finished cleaning the gashes, she patted his back dry with a towel and applied a
cool salve while Chase got him a clean shirt. Richard was glad to put the shirt on, as it provided
him at least a symbol of protection from her further ministering:

Emma smiled to the three guests. "Would anyone like something to eat?"

Zedd lifted a hand. "Well, I wouldn't mind . . ." Richard and Kahlan both shot him a withering
glare. He shrank back into his chair. "No. Nothing for us. Thank you."

Emma stood behind Chase, combing her fingers affectionately through his hair. He sat in
undisguised agony, barely able to tolerate her public display of sentiment. At last he leaned
forward, using the excuse of pouring tea to put a stop to it.

With a frown, Chase pushed the honey across the table. "Richard, for as long as I've known you,
you've had a talent for sidestepping trouble. But lately, you seem to be losing your footing."

Before Richard could answer, Lee, one of their daughters, appeared in the doorway, rubbing her