Zedd stood frozen, unmoving, one hand in the air
There was no reply. Richard spun to the witch woman. She was no longer his mother. Shota wore a
wispy dress with variegated shades of gray across its gauzy surface, its folds and loose points
floating in the light breeze. Her full, thick hair was a wavy auburn, her smooth skin flawless.
Almond eyes shone up at him. She was as beautiful as the palace that stood behind her, the valley
around her. She was so attractive, it almost took his breath away, and would have, were it not for
the rage he was feeling.
"And who is this supposed to be? Another vision from my mind? Or is this the real Shota?" Richard
was enraged. He recognized all too well the anger from the sword, but decided to keep the weapon
out.
"What's the purpose of who you are now?"
"With some illusion!"
Richard ignored her answer, pointing up the road with the sword. "What have you done to Zedd?"
His grip on the sword tightened. "And Kahlan?"
"She is a very dangerous woman." Her eyes flashed with knowing that went well beyond the years
she appeared to be
Richard considered using the sword to take off the witch woman's head. His rage demanded it. He
visualized it powerfully in his mind, hoping Shota could see it, too. Then he put the fury down a
little, but still at the ready.
Shota gave a little laugh, a smile. "A Seeker?" Her fingers went to her lips as if to try to hide her
amusement. "No, I don't think so."
"Perhaps. Perhaps in normal times. But these are not normal times. Otherwise why would you be
here? To kill me'? You have just saved me." She gave him a look that said he should be ashamed of
himself for saying something so stupid, then walked around him, one full turn. He turned with her,
keeping the sword between them, although she seemed unconcerned by it. "These are times that
demand strange alliances, Richard. Only the strong are wise enough to recognize this." She stopped
and folded her arms, appraising him with a thoughtful smile. "My hero. Why, I can't remember the
last time anyone thought to save my life." She leaned toward him. "Very gallant. It truly was." She
slipped an arm around his waist. Richard wanted to stop her, but somehow he didn't.
Her smile widened, making her almond eyes sparkle. "As 1 said, only the strong are wise enough
for the alliances needed. The wizard wasn't wise enough; he tried to kill me. She isn't wise enough;
she would also. She didn't even want to come here. Only you were wise enough to see that these
times demand an alliance such as ours."
"Even if they try to kill me first? Have I no right to defend myself? Am I to lay down and die,
because it's your friends who would do the killing? Richard," she said, shaking her head with a
frown and a smile, "think about what you are saying. Look at it from my eyes."
"But you were very gallant. You, my hero, have done a very rare thing. You have put your life at
risk for me, a witch woman. That kind of thing does not go unrewarded. You have earned a wish.
Anything you want, simply name it, and it will be granted." With her free hand she made gliding
motions in the air. "Anything, on my word."
Richard was seething, in spite of how strangely attracted he was to this woman. "I don't have to
think it over. My wish is for you not to kill my friends. To leave them unharmed, and let them go."
"Oh? So, your word means nothing?"
"Isn't that what you really want? Ask yourself what's more important; how many will die if you fail
in your duty." She squeezed his waist again, her beautiful smile returning. "Richard, the sword is
confusing you. The magic is interfering with your judgment. Put it away, then think again. If you
are wise, you will heed my warning; it is not without reason."
"I've put the sword away, Shota. It changes nothing. You are going to answer my question anyway.
Your life, too, depends upon my knowing the answer. You have as much as admitted it. I'm not
wasting my wish. To use it to get an answer you already intend to give me would be a waste of my
friends' lives. Now, grant my wish!"
Her hand came up slowly to the side of his face, reminding him again of his mother. Her gentleness
made him feel calm, and somehow sad. In that moment, he felt his fear of her wane.
"Your wish, dear Richard, is granted," she said in a sad whisper.
"I promised I would not kill her, and that she could leave. When you go, she may go with you, I
will not kill her. But she is still a danger to me. If she remains still the snakes will not harm her."
"Richard," she touched a finger to her chin, thinking, "you come here thinking me evil, didn't you?
Even though you knew nothing of me, you were ready to bring harm to me, based on what you
invented in your head. You have committed to belief that which you have heard from others."
There was no malice in her voice. "People who are jealous or afraid say these things. People also
say that to use fire is wrong, and that those who use fire are evil. Does that make it true? People say
the old wizard is evil, and that people die because of him. Does that make it true? Some of the Mud
People say you brought death to their village. Does that make it true, because fools say it is so?"
Shota looked genuinely hurt. "Do you not love your mother?"
"What greater gift could anyone give, than the return of a passed loved one? Did it not give you joy
to see your mother again? Did I ask for anything in return? Did I demand payment? For a moment,
I gave you something beautiful, pure, a living memory of your love for your mother, and hers for
you, at a cost to myself you could never fathom, and you see this, too, as evil? And in payment, you
would think to take my head off with your sword?"
"Is your mind that poisoned by the words of others? Their fears? All I ask is to be judged by my
deeds, to be seen for who I am, not what others say of me. Richard, don't be a soldier in this silent
army of fools."
"Look around," Shota said, sweeping her hand through the air. "Is this a place of ugliness? Evil?"
She took a brief glance. "Think of it as my moat." Shota smiled proudly. "It keeps away fools who
would harm me."
She held Richard's gaze as she spoke, her voice heavy with regret. "Samuel, come here."
"I guess a formal introduction is in order. Richard, may I introduce Samuel, your predecessor. The
former Seeker."
"My sword! Gimme!" Samuel started to reach out. Shota spoke his name in caution without taking
her gaze from Richard, and the little creature instantly withdrew his arms, nuzzling back against her
hip. "My sword," he complained to himself in a low voice.
"You really don't know, do you?" Shota lifted an eyebrow as she studied his face. Her sad smile
returned. "The magic. Did the wizard not warn you?"
"Well, I suggest you have a talk with him."
"I'm sorry, Richard, I can't answer that." She gave a heavy sigh. "One of my talents is that I have
vision for the flow of time, the way events flow into the future. But this is a type of magic, wizard's
magic, that I cannot see; I am blind to it. I can't see how it flows forward.
Richard remembered Zedd telling him that while the last pretend Seeker was distracted by a witch
woman, he had gone and taken the sword back. This was the Seeker; this was the witch woman.
Kahlan was wrong. There was at least one wizard who would dare to go into Agaden Reach.
Her face was set in a frown of true concern. "Maybe. I just don't know."
She gave him a grave expression. "Richard, there are more important things at stake than
friendship. Zedd knows this, and so do you; after all, you chose these things over his life when you
had to."
Shota's eyes studied his face a moment. "I'm sorry, Richard." She waved her hand through the air in
the direction of Zedd. Zedd wavered, and then disappeared. "That was only a little deception. A
demonstration. It wasn't really the old wizard."
"Is that really Kahlan? Or have you already killed her, and presented me with her image, another
trick? Another demonstration?"
Shota put her arm through his, taking him to stand in front of Kahlan. Samuel followed and stood
by them. His arms were so long that as he stood erect, his yellow eyes moving warily back and
forth between them, he casually drew lines and circles in the dirt of the road with his fingers.
"Richard," Shota asked, while she held Kahlan's stare, "would you be able to kill her if you had to?
If she was a threat to your success, would you have the courage to kill her? If it meant the lives of
everyone else? The truth, now."
Big almond eyes stared back at him. "That, Seeker, is not the question I asked."
Shota gave a smile of regret. "As I thought. And that is why you made a mistake with your wish."
"Yes," Shota nodded grimly, "I would have. The image of Zedd was a test. You passed the test, and
as a reward, I gave you a wish, not that you might have something you want, but that I might do an
onerous deed for you, because you lack the required courage. That was your second test. That test,
dear boy, you failed. I must honor your wish. That is your mistake; you should have let me kill her
for you."
Shota listened patiently until he finished. The timeless look passed across her eyes again. "Were
you not listening when I said not all acts are as they seem? That some are meant to save you? Once
again you judge too quickly, without knowing all the facts."
Shota took a breath, as if she were trying to remain patient, as if she were trying to teach something
to a child. Her expression made him feel somehow stupid.
"That does not mean you will succeed, only that you have the chance. No matter how small, it is
within you. Know also that there are forces to defeat you before you could bring your chance to
bear. The old wizard does not have the power to stop Rahl. That's why he gave you the sword. I do
not have the power to stop Rahl. But I do have the power to be of aid to you. That's all I wish to do.
In so doing I help myself. I do not want to die. If Rahl wins, I will."
"But there are other things I know, Richard, that you do not."
"Shota, what are these things you know?"
Richard's eyes widened. "That can't be true . .. ."
That rattled him to his bones.
Richard could hardly draw a breath, could hardly make himself ask the next question. "If that was
the easy part, then what is the hard?"
"That much I know," Richard offered cautiously.
"And what truth do you see, Shota?" he whispered.
".Kahlan has a power, and if she isn't killed, she will use that power against you." She watched his
eyes carefully as she spoke. "There can be no doubt of the truth of this. Your sword can protect you
from the wizard's fire, but it will not protect you from her touch."
"No!" Kahlan whispered. They both looked at her, her face wrinkled with pain at Shota's words. "I
wouldn't! Shota, I swear, I couldn't do that to him."
"If you are not killed, child, I am afraid you will." As a tear rolled down, her thumb brushed it back.
"You have already come close, once," Shota said with surprising compassion. "Within a breath."
She nodded slightly to herself. "This is true, is it not? Tell him. Tell him if I am speaking the truth."
"Is this true?" Richard asked in a whisper, his heart in his throat. "Have you come within a breath
of using your power against me, as Shota says?"
"I cannot," Shota whispered. "I have granted a wish. A very foolish one."
Kahlan suddenly cried out and threw up her arms, to make the snakes bite her. Richard lunged for
them, but they were gone. Kahlan held out her arms, looking for snakes that were no longer there.
Kahlan collapsed to her knees, crying with her face against the ground, her fingers digging into the
earth. "I'm so sorry, Richard," she wept. Her fists grabbed at the grass, then his pants legs. "Please,
Richard," she sobbed. "Please. I'm sworn to protect you. So many have already died. Take the
sword and kill me. Do it. Please, Richard, kill me."
"Richard," Shota said, nearly in tears herself, "if she isn't killed, then before Rahl opens the boxes,
she will use her power against you. There is no doubt of this. None. It cannot be changed if she
lives. I granted your wish, I cannot kill her. So you must."
Kahlan wailed again in anguish and pulled her knife. As she brought it up to plunge it into herself,
Richard grabbed her wrist.
Richard pulled her up by her wrist and held her to him with one arm as she cried, keeping her arm
twisted behind her back so she couldn't use the knife on herself. He glared angrily at Shota, who
stood with her hands loose at her sides, watching. Was any of this possible? Could it be true? He
wished he had listened to Kahlan and never come here.
"Please, Richard," Shota said, tears in her own eyes, "hate me for who I am if you will, but do not
hate me for telling you the truth."
"Queen Milena has the last box of Orden." She spoke in a voice barely more than a whisper. "But
heed this warning: she will not have it for long. If, that is, you choose to believe the truth, as T see
it." She turned to her companion, "Samuel," she said gently, "guide them out of the Reach. Do not
take anything that belongs to them. I would be very displeased if you did. That includes the Sword
of Truth."
"When this is over," she said in a voice that broke with emotion, "and if you should happen to win .
. . don't ever come here again. If you do . . . I will kill you."
"Shots," he whispered hoarsely, "I'm sorry."
His hands were each stuck in the other sleeve. "Sorry, Rachel, I didn't mean to frighten you." He
looked both ways down the hall and then lowered himself to the floor. "What are you about'?"
Giller nodded. "Well, just do as she says, I'm sure the washwomen will know they aren't really your
words." Rachel looked in his big dark eyes. "Everyone knows she gets her own gravy on her own
dresses."
Rachel nodded; she knew that that was true. Giller looked up and down the hall again, but there
was no one. else there.
She nodded with a smile. "Thank you so much, Giller. She's wonderful. I've been put out twice
more since you gave her to me. She told me how I mustn't talk to you unless you say it's safe, so I
just waited, like she said. We talked and talked, and she made me feel so much better."
"I named her Sara. A doll's got to have a name, you know."
Rachel grinned; she was happy that Giller liked her doll's name. She put one arm around his neck
and her face by his ear. "Sara's been telling me her troubles too," she whispered. "I promised her I
would help you. I never knew you wanted to run away too. When can we leave, Giller? I'm getting
so afraid of Princess Violet."
Rachel shook her head against his shoulder; then she heard footsteps. Giller stood up, looking down
the hall.
"I better go," she said in a hurry.
She did what he told her and he stood in front of her, hiding her behind his robes. Rachel heard the
clinking of armor. Just some guards, she thought. Then she heard the little barks. The Queen's dog!
It must be the Queen and her guards! They would be in a fine mess if the Queen found her hiding
behind the wizard's robes. She might find out about the doll! She scrunched up tighter in the dark
folds. The robes moved a little when Giller bowed.
"Giller!" she said in her mean voice. "What are you doing lurking about up here?"
The little dog started to growl. Rachel was getting tears in her eyes.
The dog growled and gave out a little bark. Giller backed up a little, pushing her tighter to the wall.
Rachel tried to think about Sara, wishing she were with her right now.
"I'm afraid, Your Majesty, I have also been lurking about in the stables, I'm quite sure that is what
your dog smells." Giller's hand went into his robes right by her head.
Rachel sucked the hem of her dress, to keep from making a noise as she shook. Giller's hand came
out of his robe. She saw a pinch of something between his thumb and finger. The dog pushed his
head under the robe and started harking. Giller opened his fingers, and sparkling dust dropped
down on the dog's head. The dog started sneezing. Then Rachel saw the Queen's hand come and
pull him away.
"As I was saying, Your Majesty"-Giller's voice could get kind of mean, too, but Rachel thought it
was funny when it was the Queen he was sounding mean to= "if you were an assassin, and you
wanted to come into a Queen's castle and put a big fat arrow through her, do you think you would
rather walk right in the main gate, bold as day? Or would you rather ride with your long bow in a
wagon, hiding, maybe under some hay, or behind some sacks? Then come out in the dark of the
stables."
"But, since you don't want me lurking about in the stables either, well, I'll just scratch that off my
list too! But if you don't mind, from now on, when we are in public view I will be standing well
clear of you. I don't want to be in the way if some of your subjects choose to show their love for
their Queen from afar."
"As you wish, Your Majesty." He bowed again.
"By the way, wizard Giller," she called back, "did I tell you? A messenger came. He said Father
Rahl will be here sooner than expected. Much sooner. Tomorrow in fact. He will be expecting the
box, of course, to seal the alliance. Please see to it."
Giller waited until the Queen was gone and then pulled Rachel up with big hands around her waist
and field her against his hip with an arm. His cheeks weren't red, as they usually were; they were
more white. He put his finger against her lips, and she knew he wanted her to keep quiet. He
stretched his neck, looking up and down the hall again.
"What's wrong, Giller?"
"No," Rachel whispered back. "She went to pick out fabric for a new dress, for when Father Rahl
comes to visit."
"Yes. If she doesn't have it with her, she keeps it in the desk. In the drawer on the side by the
window."
She nodded that she could and put her arms around his neck to hold on as he walked fast. He went
past all the dark wooden doors that were pointed at the tops, until he got to the biggest one, a
double door set back in a little hall, with stone carving all around. That was the Princess's room. He
squeezed her tight.
He set her down on the floor. "Hurry now." He closed the door behind her.
She knew Giller wanted her to hurry, so she crossed the room, walking over the fur rug, to the
polished desk with the pretty swirled wood. She put her fingers through the gold handle and slid the
drawer open. It made her nervous to do it, even though she had done it before when the Princess
had sent her to get the key, but she had never done it before without being told to by the Princess.
The big key to the jewel room was lying in the red velvet pocket, right next to the little key to her
sleeping box. She put the key in her pocket and slid the drawer closed again, making sure it was
shut all the way.
Sara looked back at her. The doll was right where she had left her.
Rachel kissed the doll's head and covered her back up with the blanket, hiding her in the corner so
no one would find her. She knew it was trouble to bring Sara to the castle, but she couldn't bear to
leave her in the wayward pine, all alone. She knew how lonely and scary it got in the wayward
pine.
"The key?"
"Rachel," he said, squatting down close to her, "listen carefully, this is very important, this is no
game. We must get out of the castle, or we will both get our heads chopped off, just like Sara told
you. But we must be smart about it, or we will get caught. If we run away too quickly, without
doing the right things first, we will be found out. And if we are too slow, well, we just better not be
too slow."
Giller hugged her tight. "I know, child. I'm afraid too." He put his hands on her shoulders, holding
her up straight while he looked in her eyes. "But if you trust me, and do exactly as I say, and are
brave enough, we will get away from here, and go to where no one ever chops off people's heads,
or locks them in boxes, and where you can have your doll and people will let you, and they will
never take Sara away from you or throw her in the fire. All right?"
"But you must be brave, and do just as I tell you. Some of it will be hard."
"And I promise, Rachel, that I will do whatever I must to protect you. We are in this together, you
and me, but a lot of other people are depending on us too. If we do a good job, we will be able to
fix it so a lot of other people, innocent people, won't get their heads chopped off anymore."
"All right then, the first thing I need you to do is to go scold the cooks, just like you are supposed
to, and while you are down in the kitchen, get a big loaf of bread, the biggest you can find. I don't
care how you get it, steal it if you have to. Just get it. Then bring it up to the jewel room. Use the
key and wait inside for me. I must tend to some other things. I'll tell you more then. Can you do
that?" "Sure," she nodded. "Easy."
She went through the door into the big hall on the first floor while Giller disappeared up the steps
without making a sound. The stairs to the kitchen were at the other end, on the other side of the
grand stairs in the middle that the Queen used. Rachel liked going up the grand stairs with the
Princess because they had carpets, and weren't cold like the stone steps she was supposed to use
when she was on errands. The hall was open in the middle, where the grand stairs came down to a
big room with black and white marble squares on the floor. They were very cold under her feet.
"Oh good, Rachel," the Princess said. "Come here."
"What are you doing?"
"Well . . . don't bother."
The Princess frowned. "Why? I just said you didn't."
The Princess thought this over a minute. "On second thought, go ahead, it was dreadful. Just be
sure to tell them how angry I am, too!"
"I'm going for a fitting." Rachel turned back to her. "Then I want to go to the jewel room, and try
on some things, to go with my new dress. When you're finished with the cooks, go get the key and
wait for me in the jewel room."
Princess Violet looked surprised. "Well, yes, that would be good, to see the jewels with the dress."
She thought another minute, then started up the steps. "I'm glad I thought of that."
"On second thought, Rachel, I need to pick out something for tonight's dinner, so I need to go to the
jewel room anyway. Meet me there in a little while."
"But nothing. After you deliver my message to the cooks, go get the key and wait for me in the
jewel room. I'll be there as soon as I'm done with the fitting."
What was she going to do now? Giller was going to meet her in the jewel room, too. She was
breathing hard, as if she was going to cry. What was she going to do?
-+---
"Well, what do you think?" he whispered. "Any ideas?"
"I can't even imagine," she whispered back. "I have never seen so many short-tailed gars together in
one place."
"They're not burning anything. The smoke is coming from the ground. This place is called Fire
Spring. Those are vents where steam comes up from the ground, and from other openings water
boils up from below, and more over there where other things boil, foul-smelling yellow liquid and
thick mud. The fumes keep people away from this place. I have no idea what gars would be doing
here."
She shook her head. "Your eyes are better than mine. I can't tell what it is, or even that it's round."
"Maybe we should go have a closer look," he whispered, half to himself, as he watched the gars
moving about below.
"I guess," he complained. "What's that behind them, just above, on the side of the hill? A cave?"
He watched the gars tearing an animal apart, fighting over it. "What's a Shadrin?"
He looked over at her as she watched the gars. "And what do you think?"
Richard was glad she was talking. It was the most she had said in days. The odd behavior of the
gars seemed to have over whelmed her with curiosity, and brought her, for the moment, out of her
withdrawal. But they couldn't lie there talking; they were wasting time. Besides, if they stayed too
long, the gars' flies would find them. They both crawled backward, clear of the edge, then crept
farther away, keeping their heads down and their movements quiet. Kahlan withdrew once again
into silence.
"What're you doing?" He had had to watch her like a hawk since leaving Agaden Reach. He
couldn't trust her anymore. All she wanted to do was die, and he knew she would manage it if he
didn't watch her every- move.
He frowned. "Why would anyone go to the trouble to build a road like that?"
He studied her face a moment, trying to judge if she was telling the truth. It infuriated him that he
had to worry about whether Kahlan was telling him the truth.
At his word, she turned without comment and walked on. Richard didn't know how much more of
this he could take. She would only talk when it was required, wouldn't listen when he tried to make
conversation, and backed away whenever he got close. She acted as if his touch would be poison,
but he knew it was really her touch she worried about. He had hoped that the way she was talking
when they had spotted the gars signaled a change, but he was wrong. She had quickly reverted to
her dark mood.
At night, when it was time for her watch, for him to sleep, he had to tie her hands and feet to
prevent her from killing herself when he wasn't watching. When he bound her, she endured it
limply. He endured it with great pain. Even then, he had to sleep with one eye open. He slept by her
feet so if she saw or heard something, she could wake him. He was dead tired from the strain.
Richard took out some food. He kept his voice cheerful, hoping to perk her up. "Here, have some of
this dried fish?" He smiled. "It's really awful."
Richard struggled to keep the smile on his face, struggled to keep his voice from betraying his
anger. His head was pounding. "Kahlan, you've hardly eaten for days. You have to eat."
"Come on, for me?" he coaxed.
The calmness in her voice infuriated him, but he covered it as best he could with his tone, if not his
words. "If I have to."
It was his turn to hide his emotions. "No."
They stood glaring angrily at each other; then the emotion on her face was gone, and she turned
back to the road, walking on.
He had been aware that they were being followed since the second day out of the Reach. Years
spent alone in the woods made him aware when he was being followed, tracked. It was a game he
and the other guides had played sometimes in the Hartland Woods, seeing how far they could
follow each other without being detected. Whatever followed now was good at the game. But not as
good as Richard. Three times now, he had seen the yellow eyes, when no one else would have.
Richard was sure Kahlan hadn't seen it; she was too far lost in her own dark thoughts. Sooner or
later, the thing would make itself known, and Richard would be ready. But with Kahlan the way
she was right now, he had his hands full, and he didn't need more trouble.
He watched Kahlan as she walked with her shoulders slumped, and wondered what he was going to
do in a few days, when they reached Tamarang. Whether he liked it or not, she was winning this
slow battle, simply because things couldn't go on like this. She could fail time and again; she had
only to succeed once. He had to win every time. To slip just once would let her end her life. In the
end, he knew he couldn't win, knew he was going to lose, and could think of nothing to change that.
The door opened a-little. Giller poked his head in.
The rest of him came in. He stuck his head back out, looking up and down the hall, then he shut the
door. He looked down at her.
She nodded. "I got it here." She pulled the bundle out from under the chair and set it on the
footstool. "I took a towel and wrapped it around the bread so no one would see."
She smiled up at him, then frowned. "I had to steal it. I never stole anything before."
"Giller, Princess Violet is coming here."
"She said after she has the fitting for her new dress. She's pretty fussy, so it may take a while, but
maybe not. She likes to try jewelry on and look at herself in the mirror."
"Giller! You mustn't touch that! It's the Queen's!"
He set the box down on the stool next to the bread. His hand reached into his robes and pulled out
another box. "How's it look?" With a smile on one side of his mouth, he held the new box toward
her.
"Good." He put it on the stand where the real one had been, then sat down on the floor next to her
and the footstool. "Now listen to me very carefully, Rachel. We don't have much time, and it is
very important that you understand."
He laid his hand on the box. "This box has magic, and it does not belong to the Queen."
"I don't have time to explain that right now. Maybe after we are away from here. The important
thing is that the Queen is a bad person." Rachel nodded; she knew that was true. "She chops off
people's heads just because she wants to. She doesn't care about anyone but herself. She has power.
Power means she can do whatever she wants. This box has magic and it helps give her power. That
is why she took it."
He nodded. "That's right. Very good, Rachel. Now. There is a man who is even meaner than the
Queen. His name is Darken Rahl."
"The Princess also says she doesn't spill gravy on her dresses." He lifted an eyebrow.
Giller put his hands on her shoulders, real soft. "You listen very carefully.. Darken Rahl, Father
Rahl, is the meanest man that ever was. He hurts more people than the Queen could even think of.
He is so mean that he even kills children. Do you know what that means, to kill someone?"
"Yes. And just as the Princess laughs when she slaps you, Darken Rahl laughs when he kills
people. You know the way when the Princess is at dinner with all the lords and ladies, she is real
nice, and polite? But when she is alone with you, she slaps you?"
Giller held his finger up. "That's right! You're a very bright girl! Well, Father Rahl is the same way.
He doesn't want people to know he is really mean, so he can be very polite, and make it seem like
he is the nicest man in-the world. Whatever you do, Rachel, you stay away from him, if you can."
"But if he talks to you, just be polite right back, don't let him know that you know. You must not let
people know all the things you know. That keeps you safe."
He put his arms around her and gave her a quick hug. "The spirits be praised, you are a smart
child." It made her feel really good that he said that. No one ever told her that she was smart. "Now,
listen close. This is the important part."
He put his hand back on the box. "This box has magic. When the Queen gives it to Father Rahl, he
will be able to use the magic to hurt even more people. He will chop off a lot more people's heads.
The Queen is a mean person, and wants him to do it, so she is going to give him the box."
A big smile spread under his hook nose. He held her chin in his hand. "Rachel, you are the smartest
girl I have ever met. You truly are."
"And that's just what we are going to do." He pointed up at the box he had put on the stand. "That is
a fake. That means it's not the real thing, it's just pretend, so they will be fooled for a while, and we
can get away before they find out the real one is gone."
Giller took the loaf of bread she had stolen from the kitchen and broke it in half. With his big
hands, he scooped out some of the insides. Part of it he stuffed in his mouth; his cheeks puffed out,
there was so much. He stuffed some in her mouth. She chewed as fast as she could. It was good,
still warm. When they finished eating the middle, he took the real box and pushed it into the middle
of the bread and put the two halves back together. He held it up for her to look at.
She made a face. "It's all cracked. People will know it's been broken."
She nodded. "Maybe."
"No one will know now for sure." She giggled.
He spread the cloth out on top of the stool and put the bread on it, then pulled up all four corners
and tied them in the middle on top. He lifted up the bundle by the knots and put it in the palm of his
other hand, in front of her. He looked her in the eyes and he didn't smile; he looked almost sad.
She smiled proudly, she remembered. "Third urn on the right."
"I know you're afraid, child. But remember? It's not the Queen's box. You do want to help keep all
those people from getting their heads chopped off, don't you?"
"If I could, I swear to you, Rachel, I would. But I can't. There are some who watch me, and don't
want me to go out of the castle. If they found me with the box, then Father Rahl would get it, and
we can't have that, now, can we?"
"And I mean to keep that promise, believe me. But it may take a couple of days for me to sneak out
of Tamarang. It's very dangerous for the box to be here another day, and I can't get it out myself.
You must get it away. Take it to your secret place, your wayward pine. You wait there for me, until
I can cover our escape, and I will come get you."
Giller moved up and sat on the stool. He pulled her up with his hands around her waist, and set her
on his knee.
She watched him with big eyes. "I'm just little," she said.
He shook his head. "I have been a very foolish man, Rachel, I have been far from the bestest man in
the world. If only I had been wiser before, and remembered the things I was taught, my true duty,
the reason I became a wizard in the first place, maybe I wouldn't have to ask you to do this. But just
as this is the most important thing you will ever do, it is also the most important thing I will ever
do. We must not fail, Rachel. You must not. No matter what happens, you must not let anyone stop
you. Not anyone."
"Someone comes," he whispered. He kissed her head real quick. "Good spirits protect you, Rachel."
-+---
Kahlan held her arms out to him, hands made into fists, the insides of her wrists pressed together,
waiting for him to bind them with the rope. Her unblinking eyes stared off at nothing. She had said
she wasn't tired, but Richard surely was-his head pounded so hard it made him feel sick-so she was
going to take the first watch. What good her watch was, the way she stared blankly, he didn't know.
"I can't do this anymore," he whispered, looking down at her wrists in the light of the small fire.
"Kahlan, you may be the one who wishes to die, but it is me you are killing."
He lowered the rope and let it drop. With trembling hands, he slowly pulled her knife from his belt,
and looked at it for a minute in the palm of his hand. The glint of the blade was blurred in his
vision. He clenched the handle tightly in his fist and jammed the knife in the sheath at her belt.
"Richard . . .
He turned his back to her and sat on a windfall spruce that lay in front of the fire. She stood
watching him in silence, then moved off a few paces.
"I don't care what you want. You have forfeited that right." He struggled to make the words come
out. "Get out of my sight."
"Richard," she said in a soft voice, "when this is all ended, I hope you can think well of me,
remember me more fondly than you do right now." That was it. He came over the log with a boost
of one boot on top. In a blink he had her shirt in his fists.
"That's not true . . . ."
"I do this to help you! You heard what Shota said!" She was getting angry now, too.
"What do you mean . . ."
"That doesn't make any sense."
"I only know I cannot allow myself to live to carry out the prophecy. You are the thread that
weaves this struggle together."
"Shota said you are the only one with a chance. Without you all is lost. Not me. You. She said that
if I live . . . Richard, I can't allow that. I won't."
She shook her head slowly. "Despite what you think, Richard, I do this for you."
"Don't you dare say that!" he yelled, both hands in fists. "You do this for yourself, because you
haven't got the stomach for what victory entails! Don't you dare to say you do this for me!"
As he watched her turn and vanish into the darkness, Richard felt as if a plug inside him had been
pulled and his whole self was draining away.
The people started getting scared looks on their faces. They were looking at the Queen. They
started to stand up. Rachel looked over at the Queen and saw that the people weren't looking at her,
they were looking at something else, behind her. Her eyes got wide when she saw the two big men.
A man with blue eyes, and long yellow hair and white robes, and a gold-handled knife at his belt,
came through the archway. He was the handsomest-looking man she had ever seen. He smiled at
the Queen. She jumped to her feet.
The man again smiled a pretty smile at her. "I couldn't wait to get here, to see your lovely face
again. Forgive me for being early, Your Majesty."
"Lords and ladies, may I introduce Father Rahl."
She was going to do what Giller had told her to do, that's what. She was going to be brave and save
all those people. She had to think of a way to get out.
"Dinner is over. You will excuse us now," he said in a soft voice.
"Won't you sit, Father Rahl, I'm sure you have had a strenuous journey. Let us bring you something
to eat. We have a lovely roast tonight."
Rachel thought the Queen was going to choke. "Well, then . . . we also have a lovely turnip soup,
and some other things, I'm sure . . . there must be something . . . if there isn't, the cooks, will make
whatever . . ."
"But ... this is sooner than expected, we haven't finished drawing up the agreements, there are many
papers to be signed, and you will want to have them looked over first, surely."
"Well, no, Father Rahl, of course not. Of course not."
"Well, of course I am. I guess there is no need . . . but this is most unusual."
"Yes. Yes, of course." She turned to one of her advisors. "Go get whatever of the alliance treaty
you have ready and bring it. Bring ink and pens. And my seal." He bowed and left. The Queen
turned to Giller. "Wherever you have secreted the box, go and get it."
While they waited, the Queen introduced the Princess to Father Rahl. Rachel stood behind Princess
Violet's chair after she went to have her hand kissed. Father Rahl bowed to her and kissed her hand
and told her how she was as pretty as her mother. The Princess grinned and grinned and held the
hand he had kissed to her breast.
"Father Rahl," Giller said with his finest smile, "may I present you with Queen Milena's box of
Orden." He held the fake box out in both hands, careful, just as if it were the real one. The jewels
all sparkled real pretty.
With one hand, the man squeezed the box. It shattered. The Queen's eyes got real big.
Father Rahl's face got scary-looking. "That would be my question, Your Majesty. This box is a
counterfeit."
He held his hands in the opposite sleeves of his robes. "Your Majesty . . . I don't understand . . . no
one has tampered with the magic seal, I saw to that myself. I assure you, this is the same box I have
guarded ever since you put it in my hands. It must have been a fake from the first. We have been
tricked. That is the only possible explanation."
"What are you doing! Let go of me, you big ox! Have respect for a wizard or you. will regret it. I
can assure you!" His feet were dangling in the air.
Father Rahl licked his fingertips. "Not the only possible explanation, wizard. The real box has
magic, a particular type of magic. The magic of this box is wrong. A Queen would not be able to
see it, to know if it was the real box. But a wizard would."
Rachel wanted to run after Giller, she was so scared for him. She saw his head turn back and look
at the people. His dark eyes were wide, and for a second, they looked right at her, right into her
eyes. When they did, she heard his voice in her head, as clear as if he had yelled to her. The voice
in her head screamed only one word.
Then he was gone. Rachel wanted to cry. Instead, she sucked the hem of her dress. All the people
around the Queen started talking at once. James, the court artist, started picking up some of the
pieces of the fake box, turning them over in his one hand, looking at them, holding them against the
stump of his other. Princess Violet took one of the big pieces from him and looked at the jewels,
running her fingers over them.
She reached up and took some food off the plates: a piece of meat, three bread rolls, and a big piece
of hard cheese. She stuffed them all in her pockets, then checked the people again.
Rachel wiped some tears off her face as she went down the cold stone steps. She had tried to keep
them from coming, but a few got out before she could stop them. The guards on patrol ignored her
as she walked fast over the cobblestones, toward the garden.
Just before she started running for the outer-wall gate, she remembered, and made a little gasp. She
froze stiff, her eyes wide.
She pushed the bundle with the bread back under the flowers, looked around, and ran for the castle.
She had to slow down and walk when she got close, back into the torchlight. One of the guards at
the door looked down at her.
She swallowed hard. "I know. But now I have to go back in for a few minutes."
She nodded and managed to make herself say, "Yes."
Once back inside, she looked down the hall. The big room with the black-and-white floor and the
grand stairs was ahead, a few turns down some long halls and through a couple of big rooms. One
of the big rooms was the dining room. That was the shortest way. But the Queen, or the Princess,
might be there, or even Father Rahl. They might see her. She couldn't let them see her. Princess
Violet might take her up to her room and lock her in the sleeping box; it was late.
The stairs were all stone, worn smooth on the front edges. One window at the top was uncovered
and it let in rain, and the steps always had water leaking from the stone walls, running down them.
Some places it was just a little, some places more, and there was green slime on some of the steps.
She always had to step careful to keep from stepping in the slime. Torches in iron brackets made
the stone and the steps look red and yellow.
When she went past the servants' quarters, all the oil lamps were burning, hung from the big beams
of the low ceilings, and there were bunches of people gathered around, telling each other what they
had seen. Rachel saw one of the men talking loud, with mostly women, but some men, too,
standing around him. It was Mr. Sanders, the man who wore the fancy coat and greeted the fine
ladies and gentlemen when they came to dinner, and announced their names when they came in.
"What're they lookin' for?" a woman asked.
"Wish they'd find whatever it is under Violet's bed," somebody else said. "It'd do her up right to get
a nightmare for a change, 'stead of givin' 'em." Everyone laughed.
On the top floor, at last, she peeked her head around the door, looking up and down the hall that ran
past Princess Violet's room. The hall was empty. Tiptoeing across the carpet with the pictures of the
boats on it, she reached the entryway set back from the hall. She snuck into it, checking the .hall
again. Carefully, she opened the door a sliver. The room was dark. She slipped in and shut the door
tight.
"Looking for something?" It was Princess Violet's voice.
"I was just coming up to get in my box. To go to sleep."
She slowly pulled her hands out from behind her back. She had Sara. Rachel's eyes went wide and
she suddenly felt like she had to go potty.
"Come here, and we'll talk about it"
The Princess stepped to her and hit her across the other cheek with the back of her hand. Her
knuckles hurt more than the first slap. Rachel gritted her teeth and clutched her fist around
something in her pocket to keep from letting the tears come.
"Princess Violet, please don't...:' She was shaking because her face hurt so much, and because she
was so scared. "Please, let me keep her? She's no harm to you."
"She doesn't have a name."
She turned around to the fire. Rachel's fist was still clutched around the thing in her pocket. It was
the magic fire stick Giller had given her. She pulled it out of her pocket and looked at it.
The Princess spun around. "What did you say? How dare you speak to me in that tone of voice.
You're just a nobody. I'm a Princess."
The doily burst into flames. The Princess's face looked surprised. Rachel touched the fire stick to a
book on a short marble table. She looked quickly to the Princess's eyes to make sure she was
watching, then whispered again, and with a roar it, too, burst 'into flames. Princess Violet's eyes
were wide. Rachel picked up the book by a corner and threw it in the fireplace while the Princess
watched her. Rachel spun around, took a step, and put the fire stick against the Princess.
"You wouldn't dare. . . : '
Princess Violet pushed the doll at her. "Here. Please, Rachel, don't burn me. I'm afraid of fire."
"Let's just forget all about this, Rachel. You may keep the doll, all right?" Her voice was getting
real nice now, not mean like before.
"Get in the box," Rachel said. "Then you can see how you like it."
Rachel pushed the fire stick a little harder. "Right now, or I'll burn you up."
"Be quiet and get inside. Unless you want me to burn you."
"Go to the back."
"Good night, Violet. Go to sleep. I'm going to sleep in your bed tonight. I'm sick of your voice. If
you make any noise at all, I'll come over and light your skin on fire. Do you understand?"
Rachel set Sara down while she pulled the fur rug close and turned it over on the box, covering it
all up. She went and bounced on the bed to make it squeak, to make Princess Violet think she was
going to sleep in it. '
After she had gone all the way back the way she had come, through the servants' passageways and
to the door at the end, she looked carefully into the hall, and went down to the big door with the
guards. Rachel didn't say anything. She couldn't think of anything to say; she just stood and waited
for them to open the door.
She just nodded.
The bundle with the bread with the box in it was where she had left it, under the flowers. Rachel
pulled it out, holding it in one hand by the knot, while she held Sara to her chest with her other. As
she walked through the garden, she wondered if Princess Violet still thought she was sleeping in
the big bed, or if she knew it was a trick and was yelling for help. If she yelled for help, and the
guards had come and found her in the box, they might already be looking for her. She had had to go
the long way; it had taken a lot of time for her legs to take her under the whole castle and back up
again. Rachel listened carefully for shouts, to see if they were looking for her yet.
A lot of men were on the walk at the top of the wall. When she got almost to the door through the
wall, she slowed down. Before, there were always two of the Queen's guards there. Now there were
three men. Two she recognized-they wore the red tunics with the black wolf's head, the Queen's
guard-but the other was dressed different, in dark leather, and he was a lot bigger. He was one of
the new men. Rachel didn't know if she should keep going or run away. But run away where? She
had to get through the wall before she could really run away.
"It's just the Princess's playmate. The Princess puts her out sometimes."
The regular guards stopped opening the door. "Sorry, little one, but you heard him, no one goes
out."
"Well, all right," she said at last, "it's cold tonight, I'd rather stay in anyway."
"What's you name?" Rachel asked.
With her doll in her hand, Rachel pointed at the other regular guard. "What's yours?"
"Queen's lancer Reid and Queen's lancer Walcott," she repeated to herself. "All right, I think I can
remember." She pointed at the new man, the doll swinging back and forth by its arm when she did.
"And what's your name?"
She hugged Sara back to her chest. "Well, the Princess yelled at me, to tell me to be put out tonight.
If I don't go out, she'll be spitting mad, and want to chop my head off for not doing as she said, so I
want to tell her who wouldn't let me be put out. I want your names so she won't think I'm making it
up, so she can come and ask you herself. She scares me. She's been starting to say to have people's
heads chopped off."
"Well, the two of us are for doing as the Princess orders." Queen's lancer Reid turned a little and
spat. "Now, if you want her kept in, that's fine by us, so long as it's clear whose neck's on the block.
If it comes down to it, we told you to let her out, just like the Princess said. We're not going to the
block with you." The other guard, Walcott, nodded that he agreed. "Not for the threat from a little
girl, no taller than that." He held his hand out,. level with the top of her head. "I'll not tell them we
three big strong soldiers all agreed we thought she was dangerous. It's your call, but it'll be your
head, not ours, if you go against the Princess. You'll answer to the Queen's axeman, not us."
Queen's lancer Walcott started lifting up the heavy bolt on the door.
"Just my supper and my doll," Rachel said, trying to make it sound unimportant.
Rachel laid the bundle down on the ground and untied the knots, laying the corners back. She
handed Sara up to him.
"Don't you do that! Don't you have no respect?" she yelled.
The new man looked over at the other two, handing Sara back down to her. "What else have you
got there?"
He started to bend over. "Well, a little thing like you has no need for a whole loaf of bread."
"Leave it alone," Queen's lancer Walcott told the new man
The new man straightened up. "I guess not." He let out a deep breath. "Go on. Get out of here."