The impact staggered him back a step. He felt the heat. Even with his eyes tightly closed, he could
see the light. The wizard's fire wailed in rage as it struck the sword, exploding around him.

And then there was silence. He opened his eyes. The wizard's fire was gone. Zedd wasted no time.
Already he was throwing a handful of magic dust. It sparkled as it came. Richard saw something
coming from behind him, magic dust from the witch woman. It shimmered like ice crystals, taking
the sparkle from Zedd's dust, and slammed into him.

Zedd stood frozen, unmoving, one hand in the air

"Zedd!"

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.

"My hero," she said in a voice that was no longer his mother's, but silky, clear, easy. A sly smile
carne to her full lips. "Totally unnecessary, but it's the thought that counts. I am impressed."

"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.

Her smile widened. "Are those clothes really you?" she teased. "Or are they something you wear
for a time, to serve a purpose?'

"What's the purpose of who you are now?"

Her eyebrow lifted. "Why, to please you, Richard. That's all."

"With some illusion!"

"No." Her voice softened. "This is no illusion, it's the way I appear to myself, most of the time
anyway. This is real."

Richard ignored her answer, pointing up the road with the sword. "What have you done to Zedd?"

She shrugged, looking away with a demure smile. "Merely prevented him from harming me. He is
all right. For the moment anyway." Almond eyes sparkled up from under her eyebrows. "I will kill
him later, after you and I have talked."

His grip on the sword tightened. "And Kahlan?"

Shota redirected her gaze to Kahlan, who stood still, pale, her mouth trembling, her eyes locked on
Shota's every move. Richard knew Kahlan feared this woman more than she feared the snakes.
Shota frowned; then it melted back into her coy smile as she returned her gaze to him.

"She is a very dangerous woman." Her eyes flashed with knowing that went well beyond the years
she appeared to be

"More dangerous than even she knows. I have to protect myself from her." She shrugged again,
deftly catching the corner of a floating wisp of her dress. When she did, the rest of the dress settled
down, as if the breeze had died. "So I did that to keep her still. If she moves, they will bite her. If
she doesn't, they won't," Shota thought a moment. "I will kill her later, too." Her voice seemed too
gentle, too pleasant for the words she spoke.

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.

"And me? Are you not afraid of me?"

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."

Richard could barely contain himself. "Perhaps you should be."

"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.

"Don't flatter yourself. I had my motives." He found her easy manner unnerving, and fiercely
attractive. He knew he had no reason to feel attracted to her. She had just said she was going to kill
his two best friends, and by Kahlan's manner he knew it was no vain boast. Worse, he had the
sword out, the sword's anger out. He realized that even its magic was being bewitched. He felt as if
he were drowning, and to his surprise, was finding the experience pleasant.

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."

Richard struggled to maintain a level of outrage. "I make no alliances with those who would kill
my friends."

"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."

He thought about it, but said nothing. She gave his waist an affectionate squeeze.

"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 started to open his mouth, but Shota put a finger gently to his lips. Her warm body, firm
beneath the thin dress, pressed against him. "Don't spoil my opinion of you by answering too
quickly. You may have anything you want. Don't waste the wish. Think it over carefully before you
ask. It's an important wish, offered for a reason, and perhaps the most important wish you will ever
have. Haste could mean death."

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."

Shota sighed. "I'm afraid that would complicate things."

"Oh? So, your word means nothing?"

She gave him a reproachful glare. Her voice had a hint of harshness to it. "My word means
everything. I simply want you to know it would complicate matters. You came here for the answer
to an important question. You have a wish coming. You have merely to ask the question as your
wish, and I will grant it.

"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."

Richard angrily thrust the sword back into its scabbard to show her he wouldn't change his mind.
He looked back at Zedd, standing frozen in place. He looked over at Kahlan, snakes writhing all
over her. When their eyes met, his heart ached for her. He knew what Kahlan wanted him to do; he
could see it in her eyes; she wanted him to use the wish to find the box. Richard turned away from
her, unable to witness her torment another moment. He regarded Shota with determination.

"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!"

Shota regarded him with ancient eyes. "Dear Richard," she said softly, "a Seeker needs his anger,
but don't let it fill your head to the exclusion of wisdom. Do not judge too quickly actions you do
not fully understand. Not all acts are as they seem. Some are meant to save you."

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.

"Please, Shota," he whispered. "I have made my wish. Grant it."

"Your wish, dear Richard, is granted," she said in a sad whisper.

He turned to Kahlan. The snakes were still on her. "Shota, you made a promise."

"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."

"You said Kahlan would have tried to kill you. That isn't true; she guided me here seeking your
help, the same as me. Even though she intended you no harm, you would have killed her. And now
you do this to 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?"

"What kind of person would try to make me think she was my dead mother?" he asked bitterly.

Shota looked genuinely hurt. "Do you not love your mother?"

"Of course."

"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?"

Richard swallowed hard, but didn't answer. He looked away from her eyes, feeling suddenly,
unexpectedly, ashamed.

"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."

Richard stood speechless at hearing the words of his own beliefs coming back at him.

"Look around," Shota said, sweeping her hand through the air. "Is this a place of ugliness? Evil?"

"It's the most beautiful place I've ever seen," Richard admitted in a soft voice. "But that doesn't
prove anything, and what about the place up there?" He pointed with his chin, toward the dark
wood above

She took a brief glance. "Think of it as my moat." Shota smiled proudly. "It keeps away fools who
would harm me."

Richard saved the hardest question for last. "And what of him?" He glanced toward the shadows,
where Samuel sat, watching, with glowing yellow eyes.

She held Richard's gaze as she spoke, her voice heavy with regret. "Samuel, come here."

The disgusting creature skittered across the grass, to his mistress's side, pushing against her,
making an odd, throaty gurgle. Samuel's eyes locked on the sword, and stayed there. Her hand
reached down, stroking his gray head affectionately. Shota gave Richard a warm, brave smile.

"I guess a formal introduction is in order. Richard, may I introduce Samuel, your predecessor. The
former Seeker."

Richard looked down, wide-eyed, speechless, to the companion.

"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.

"Why does he look like that?" Richard asked cautiously, afraid of the answer.

"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?"

Richard shook his head slowly, unable to form words. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

"Well, I suggest you have a talk with him."

He forced himself to speak, but barely. "You mean, the magic will do this to me?"

"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.

"Samuel was the last Seeker. He came here many years back, desperate for help. But I could do
nothing for him, other than take pity on him. Then the old wizard came, suddenly, one day, and
took the sword." She lifted an eyebrow meaningfully. "It was a very unpleasant experience-for both
of us. I'm afraid I must admit I do not think kindly of the old wizard." Her face softened again. "To
this day, Samuel thinks of the Sword of Truth as his. But I know better. The wizards, for all ages,
are the caretakers of the sword, and therein its magic, and only assign it to mere Seekers for a
time."

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.

"Maybe, it's because he wasn't a real Seeker," Richard managed, trying to reassure himself. His
tongue still felt thick.

Her face was set in a frown of true concern. "Maybe. I just don't know."

"That must be it," he whispered. "It has to be. Zedd would have warned me otherwise. He's my
friend."

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."

Richard looked up at Zedd. How he wanted to talk to him. He needed him so badly right now.
Could that be true, could he have chosen the box over Zedd's life that easily, without a second
thought? "Shota, you promised to let him go."

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."

Richard thought he should feel angry, but he didn't. He felt just a little hurt at the deception, yet sad
that Zedd wasn't here, with him. Then a wave of icy dread washed through him, raising bumps on
his arms again.

"Is that really Kahlan? Or have you already killed her, and presented me with her image, another
trick? Another demonstration?"

Shota's breast rose and fell as she took a deep breath. "I'm afraid," she sighed, "that she is real
enough. And therein lies the problem."

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.

Shota regarded Kahlan for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, as if pondering a dilemma.
Richard just wanted the snakes off her. Despite the witch woman's words of help and friendship,
Kahlan was still terrified, and it wasn't the snakes. It was Shota that her eyes followed, the way the
eyes of an animal in a trap follow the trapper, not the trap.

"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."

Despite the disarming tone of Shota's voice, her words went through him like an ice dagger.
Richard met Kahlan's widening eyes, then looked to the woman beside him. "She is my guide. I
need her," he said simply, offhandedly.

Big almond eyes stared back at him. "That, Seeker, is not the question I asked."

Richard didn't say anything; he tried to betray nothing with his face.

Shota gave a smile of regret. "As I thought. And that is why you made a mistake with your wish."

"I made no mistake," Richard protested. "If I hadn't used it as I did, you would have killed her!"

"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."

"You're mad! First you try to tell me how you're not evil, how I should judge you by your actions,
and now you prove your true self by telling me how I made a mistake by not allowing you to kill
Kahlan! And for what! Some perceived threat? She has done nothing to threaten you, nor would
she. She wishes only to stop Darken Rahl, same as me. Same as 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."

"Kahlan is my friend. That is the only fact that matters."

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.

"Richard. Listen to me. Darken Rahl has put the boxes of Orden in play. If he succeeds, there will
be no one with the power to restrain him. Ever. A great many people will die. You. Me. It's in my
own interest to help you because you are the only one who has a chance to stop him. How, or why,
I don't know, but I can see the flow of power. You are the only one with a chance.

"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."

"I know all this. That's why I said you would answer my question without my having to use the
wish."

"But there are other things I know, Richard, that you do not."

Her beautiful face studied him with a sadness that hurt. Her eyes had the same fire in them that
Kahlan's had; the tire of intelligence. Richard felt the need in her, the need to help him. He feared
suddenly what it was she knew, because he realized that it wasn't meant to hurt him, it was simply
truth. Richard saw Samuel watching the sword and became aware of his own left hand, resting
around the hilt, aware of how tightly he was gripping it, and how the raised letters of the word
Truth were pressing painfully into his palm

"Shota, what are these things you know?"

"The easiest first," she sighed. "You know the way you stopped the wizard's fire with the sword?
Practice the move. I gave you that test for a reason. Zedd will use the wizard's fire against you.
Only the next time, it will be for real. The flow of time does not say who will prevail, only that you
have a chance to beat him."

Richard's eyes widened. "That can't be true . .. ."

"True," she said, clipping off his words, "as a tooth given by a father to show the keeper of the
book, to show the truth of how it was taken."

That rattled him to his bones.

"And no, I don't know who the keeper is." Her eyes burned into him. "You will have to find him
yourself."

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?"

Auburn hair tumbled off her shoulder as Shota looked away from his eyes, to Kahlan, who stood
stone still while the snakes writhed on her. "I know what she is, and how it is she is a threat to me .
. . ." Her voice trailed off. She turned back to him. "It is obvious you do not know what she is, or
perhaps you would not be with her. Kahlan has a power. Magic power."

"That much I know," Richard offered cautiously.

"Richard," Shota said, trying to find the words for something she found difficult, "I am a witch
woman. As I said, one of my powers is that I can see things as they will come to pass. It is one
reason fools' fear me." Her face drew closer to his, uncomfortably close. Her breath smelled of
roses. "Please, Richard, don't be one of these fools; don't fear me because of things I have no
control over. I'm able to see the truth of events that will come to be; I do not dictate or control
them. And just because I see them, that does not mean I'm at all happy about them. It is only by
action in the present that we can change what otherwise will come to pass. Have the wisdom to use
the truth to your advantage, don't simply rail against it."

"And what truth do you see, Shota?" he whispered.

Her eyes had an intensity that halted his breath, her voice the sharp edge of a blade

".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."

Richard felt the stab of her words, as if they cut through his heart.

"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."

Tears ran down her cheeks. Shota stepped close to her and reached through the snakes, touching her
face tenderly, to comfort her.

"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."

Kahlan's eyes snapped to Richard. He looked into the depths of her green eyes and remembered the
three times she had touched him when he had been holding the sword, and how that touch made the
magic jump in warning. The last time, with the Mud People when the shadow things had come, the
magic's reaction had been so strong that he almost put the sword through her before he realized
who it was. Kahlan's eyebrows wrinkled together, her eyes shrinking from his gaze. She bit her
bottom lip as a little moan escaped her throat.

"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?"

Kahlan's face drained of color. She let out a loud, painful moan. She closed her eyes and cried in a
long, agonizing wail, "Please, Shota. Kill me. You must. I am sworn to protect Richard, to stop
Rahl. Please," she cried in choking sobs. "It's the only way. You must kill me."

"I cannot," Shota whispered. "I have granted a wish. A very foolish one."

Richard could hardly stand the pain of seeing Kahlan like this, asking to die. The lump in his throat
threatened to choke him

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.

"I'm sorry, Kahlan. If I were to let them bite you, it would break the wish I granted."

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."

"Kahlan . . . I could never . . ." He couldn't make any more words come.

"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."

"No!" he shrieked.

Kahlan wailed again in anguish and pulled her knife. As she brought it up to plunge it into herself,
Richard grabbed her wrist.

"Please, Richard," she cried, falling against him, "you don't understand. I have to. If I live I will be
responsible for what Rahl will do. For everything that will happen."

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.

He relaxed his pressure on Kahlan's arm when he realized by the way she cried that he was hurting
her. He wondered numbly if he should let her kill herself. His hand shook.

"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."

"The truth as you see it, Shota! But maybe not the truth as it will be. I will not kill Kahlan on your
word." Shota nodded sadly, looking at him through wet eyes.

"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."

Richard saw a tear run down her cheek as she turned without looking at him and began walking up
the road. She stopped in midstride and stood a moment; her beautiful auburn hair lay upon her
shoulders and partway down the back of the wispy dress. Her head came up, but didn't turn back to
him.

"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."

She walked on, toward her palace.

"Shots," he whispered hoarsely, "I'm sorry."

She did not stop or turn, but continued on

CHAPTER 3

2
WHEN SHE CAME AROUND the corner, she almost bumped into his legs, he was walking so
quietly. She looked up the long silver robes to his face, far up in the air.

"Giller! You scared me!"

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'?"

"Errands," she told him, letting out a deep breath. "Princess Violet says I'm to go yell at the cooks
for her, and then I'm to go to the washwomen and tell them that she found a gravy stain on one of
her dresses, and that she would never get gravy on one of her dresses, and that they must have done
it, and if she ever finds they do that again, she'll have their heads chopped off. I don't want to say
that to them, they're nice." She touched the pretty silver braiding on the sleeve of Giller's robes.
"But she said that if I don't say it, I'll be in a lot of trouble."

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."

Giller laughed a quiet laugh. "You're right, I've seen her do it myself. But it brings no fortune to
pull the tail of a sleeping badger." She didn't understand, and made a face. "That means you will get
in trouble if you point it out to her, so it's best to keep still."

Rachel nodded; she knew that that was true. Giller looked up and down the hall again, but there
was no one. else there.

He leaned closer and whispered, "I'm sorry I haven't been able to talk to you, to check. Did you find
your trouble doll?"

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'm glad, child." He smiled.

"I named her Sara. A doll's got to have a name, you know."

"Is that so?" He lifted an eyebrow. "I never knew that. Well, Sara is a fine name for her then."

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."

His big hand patted her back when she hugged him. "Soon, child. But there are things we must
prepare first, so we aren't found out. We wouldn't want anyone to follow us, to find us and bring us
back, now, would we?"

Rachel shook her head against his shoulder; then she heard footsteps. Giller stood up, looking down
the hall.

"Rachel, it would be very bad if we were seen talking. Someone might . . . find out about the doll.
About Sara."

"I better go," she said in a hurry.

"No time. Stand against the wall, show me how brave, and quiet you can be."

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.

"Your Majesty," Giller said as he stood back up.

"Giller!" she said in her mean voice. "What are you doing lurking about up here?"

"Lurking, Your Majesty? It was my understanding I was in your employ to see to it there was no
lurking going on. I was merely checking the magic seal on the jewel room to make sure it hadn't
been tampered with." Rachel heard the little dog sniffing around the bottom of Giller's robes. "If it
is your wish, Your Majesty, I will leave matters to the fates, and not investigate where I feel a
worry." The little dog came around the side of the robes, close to her; she could hear the sniff, sniff,
sniff. Rachel wished he would leave, before she got found out. "We will all just go to bed at night
with a simple prayer to the good spirits that when Father Rahl arrives, all will be well. And if
anything is amiss, well, we can simply tell him we didn't want to have any lurking about, so we
didn't check. Perhaps he will be understanding."

The little dog started to growl. Rachel was getting tears in her eyes.

"Don't get your feathers ruffled, Giller, I was simply asking." Rachel could see the little black nose
sticking under the robes. "Precious, what have you found there? What is it, my little Precious?"

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.

"What is it, Precious? What do you smell?"

"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.

"The stables?" Her mean voice wasn't quite gone. "What could there possibly be for you to
investigate in the stables?" Rachel could hear her voice getting louder; the Queen was bending
over, to get her dog. "What are you doing there, Precious?"

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.

"There, there, my little Precious. It's all right now. Poor little thing." Rachel could hear her kissing
the dog's nose the way she liked to do all the time; then she sneezed, too. "As you were saying,
Giller? What business does a wizard have in the stables?"

"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."

"Well . . . I . . . but, are there, do you think . . . have you found something . . . .

"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."

"Wizard Giller"-her voice got real nice, like when she talked to the dog-"please forgive me. I have
been on edge lately, what with Father Rahl coming soon. I just want everything to go well; then we
will all have what we want. I know you only have my best interest at heart. Please, do carry on, and
forget the momentary foolishness of a lady."

"As you wish, Your Majesty." He bowed again.

The Queen started hurrying away, down the hall, sneezing; then Rachel heard her thumping
footsteps and the clinking armor stop

"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's leg jerked so hard it almost knocked Rachel over. "Of course, Your Majesty." lie bowed
again.

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.

"Tomorrow!" he muttered to himself. "Curse the spirits, I'm not ready."

"What's wrong, Giller?"

"Rachel," he whispered, his big hook nose close to hers, "is the Princess in her room right now?"

"No," Rachel whispered back. "She went to pick out fabric for a new dress, for when Father Rahl
comes to visit."

"Do you know where the Princess keeps her key to the jewel room`"

"Yes. If she doesn't have it with her, she keeps it in the desk. In the drawer on the side by the
window."

He started off down the hall, toward Princess Violet's room. His feet were so quiet on the carpets
that she couldn't even hear his footsteps as he carried her. "Change of plans, child. Can you be
brave for me? And Sara?"

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.

"All right," he whispered, "you go in and get the key. I'll stay out here and stand guard."

He set her down on the floor. "Hurry now." He closed the door behind her.

The curtains were pulled back, letting in the sunlight, so she could see right away that the room was
empty. None of the servants were cleaning or anything. The fire was burned out, and the servants
hadn't yet come and made another for tonight. The Princess's big canopy bed was already made up.
Rachel liked the bedcover with all the pretty flowers. It matched the gathered canopy and curtains.
She always wondered why the Princess needed such a big bed. It was big enough for ten people.
Where she came from, six girls slept together in a bed half the size of this one, and the bedcover
was plain. She wondered what the Princess's bed felt like. She had never once even sat on it.

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.

As she started for the door, she looked at the comer where her sleeping box was. She knew Giller
wanted her to hurry, but she ran over to the box anyway-she had to check. She crawled inside, into
the dark, and went to the back corner where the blanket was pushed up in a pile. Carefully, she
pulled the blanket back.

Sara looked back at her. The doll was right where she had left her.

"I have to go quick," she whispered. "I'll be back later."

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.

Finished, she ran to the door, pulled it open a crack, and looked up at Giller's face. He nodded to
her and motioned with his hand that it was all right to come out.

"The key?"

She pulled it out of the pocket where she kept her magic fire stick, to show him. He smiled and
called her a good girl. No one had ever called her a good girl before, at least not for a long time. He
picked her up again and walked fast down the hall and then down the dark, narrow servants' stairs.
She could hardly ever hear his footsteps on the stone. His whiskers tickled her face. At the bottom
he set her down again.

"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."

She started to get tears in her eyes. "Giller, I'm afraid to get my head chopped off, people say it
hurts terrible bad."

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?"

Her tears started to go away. "That would be wonderful, Giller."

"But you must be brave, and do just as I tell you. Some of it will be hard."

"I will, I promise."

"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."

Her eyes got wide. "Oh, I would like that, Giller. I hate it when people get their heads chopped off.
It scares me fierce."

"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."

"Off with you then."

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.

She was trying to think of a way she could get a big loaf of bread without stealing it, when she saw
Princess Violet coming across the room to the grand stairs. The royal seamstress and two of her
helpers were following behind, carrying bolts of pretty, pink cloth. Rachel looked quick for a place
to hide, but the Princess had already seen her.

"Oh good, Rachel," the Princess said. "Come here."

Rachel went and curtsied. "Yes, Princess Violet?"

"What are you doing?"

"I was doing my errands. I was just going to the kitchen now."

"Well . . . don't bother."

"But Princess Violet, I have to!"

The Princess frowned. "Why? I just said you didn't."

Rachel bit her lip; the Princess's frown scared her. She tried to think of how Giller would answer.
"Well, if you don't want me to, I won't," she said. "But your lunch was simply dreadful, and I
would hate to see you eating another dreadful meal. You must be starving for something good. But
if you don't want me to go tell them, I won'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!"

"Yes, Princess Violet." She curtsied. She turned and started to leave.

"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."

Rachel's mouth felt as if it were stuck together. "But Princess, wouldn't you rather wait until
tomorrow, when the dress is finished, to see how pretty the jewelry will look with the dress?"

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."

Rachel let out a breath, then headed off to the servants' stairs. The Princess called down to her.

"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, Princess .. .

"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."

The Princess went up the grand stairs and disappeared.

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?

She was going to do as Giller said, that's what. She was going to be brave. So those people didn't
get their heads chopped off. She stopped herself from crying and went down the steps to the
kitchen. She wondered what Giller wanted a big loaf of bread for.

-+---
"Well, what do you think?" he whispered. "Any ideas?"

Kahlan was lying close, next to him on the ground, frowning while she looked over the edge to the
scene below.

"I can't even imagine," she whispered back. "I have never seen so many short-tailed gars together in
one place."

"What could they be burning?"

"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."

"Well, look there, near the back where the hill rises up, where the biggest vent is. There's
something on top of it, something egg-shaped, with steam coming out around it. They keep going
up to look at it, to touch it."

She shook her head. "Your eyes are better than mine. I can't tell what it is, or even that it's round."

Richard could hear and feel rumbles from the ground, some followed by great belches of steam
roaring from the vents. The awful suffocating smell of sulfur wafted up to where they hid in the
stunted trees of the high ridge.

"Maybe we should go have a closer look," he whispered, half to himself, as he watched the gars
moving about below.

"That would be beyond foolhardy," she whispered harshly. "It would be just plain stupid. One gar
would be trouble enough, or have you forgotten so quickly. There must be dozens down there."

"I guess," he complained. "What's that behind them, just above, on the side of the hill? A cave?"

Her eyes went to the dark maw. "Yes. It's called the Shadrin's Cave. Some say it goes all the way
through the mountain, to the valley on the other side. But I don't know of anyone who knows for
sure, or who would want to find out."

He watched the gars tearing an animal apart, fighting over it. "What's a Shadrin?"

"The Shadrin is a beast that is supposed to live in the caves. Some say it's just a myth, others swear
it is real, but nobody wants to go find out for sure."

He looked over at her as she watched the gars. "And what do you think?"

Kahlan shrugged. "I don't know. There are many places in the Midlands where there are supposed
to be beasts. I have been to many, and found no beasts. Most of these stories are just that, stories.
But not all."

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.

Once away from the gars, they started down the road again, to Tamarang, the border land of the
Wilds, the land ruled by Queen Milena. Before they had gone far, they came to a divide in the road.
Richard assumed they would go to the right, as Kahlan had said that Tamarang lay to the east. The
gars and Fire Spring had been off to their left. Kahlan went down the left road.

"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.

She looked back at him with the same blank expression she had worn for days. "This is called an
inverted fork. Up ahead, where it's hard to see because of the lay of the land and the heavy woods,
the roads cross over each other and switch directions. Because of the thick trees, it's hard to tell
where the sun is, which direction you are going. If we take the right fork here, we will end up with
the gars. This one, to the left, goes to Tamarang."

He frowned. "Why would anyone go to the trouble to build a road like that?"

"It's just one little way the old rulers of Tamarang used to help confuse invaders from the Wilds.
Sometimes it slowed them down a little, gave the defenders time to retreat and regroup if they
needed to, then to fall on the attackers again."

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.

"You're the guide," he said at last. "Lead on."

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.

She had reduced herself to a prisoner on a forced march; had reduced him to a reluctant jailer. He
kept her knife in his belt. He knew what would happen if he gave it back to her. With every step,
she was drifting farther and farther from him. He knew he was losing her, but didn't have the
slightest idea what to do about it.

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.

He wished they had never gone to. Shota. The idea that Zedd would turn on him was unthinkable;
the idea that Kahlan would was unbearable.

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."

She didn't laugh at his joke. "No, thank you. I'm not hungry."

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."

"I said I don't want any."

"Come on, for me?" he coaxed.

"What are you going to do next? Hold me down and force it in my mouth?"

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."

She spun at him, her chest heaving. "Richard, please! Just let me go? I don't want to be with you!
Just let me go!" It was the first emotion she had shown since leaving Agaden Reach.

It was his turn to hide his emotions. "No."

She glared at him with fire in her green eyes. "You can't watch me every minute. Sooner or later . .
." "Every minute . . . if I have to."

They stood glaring angrily at each other; then the emotion on her face was gone, and she turned
back to the road, walking on.

They had only stopped for a few minutes, but it had been enough for the thing that followed them
to make another mistake, a rare one. It had let its guard down briefly, and let itself get too closeclose enough for Richard to see its fierce yellow eyes again, if only for an instant.

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.

He knew it wasn't Samuel; the yellow was different, darker, and the eyes were closer together-and
it was smarter. It couldn't be a heart hound; they would have been attacked long before now.
Whatever it was, it only watched.

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.

So he didn't turn and look, to show it that he suspected, didn't backtrack, and didn't snap a circle, as
he and the other guides had called the maneuver, but rather, he let his eyes catch the glimpses when
they did, without forcing a glance. He was reasonably sure the thing that followed didn't know he
was aware of it. For now, that's the way he wanted to keep it. It left the advantage with him.

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.

-+---
Rachel sat on the short footstool in front of the tall chair that was covered with red velvet and
buttons and gold carving, waiting, knocking her knees together. Hurry, Giller, she kept saying to
herself, hurry, before the Princess comes. She looked up at the Queen's box. She hoped that when
Princess Violet came to try on jewelry, she didn't touch the box again. Rachel hated it when she did
that; it scared her.

The door opened a-little. Giller poked his head in.

"Hurry, Giller," she whispered loudly.

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.

"Did you get the bread?"

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."

"Good girl." He smiled as he turned around, away from her.

She smiled up at him, then frowned. "I had to steal it. I never stole anything before."

"I assure you, Rachel, it's for a good cause." He was looking at the box.

"Giller, Princess Violet is coming here."

He turned back, his eyes big. "When?"

"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."

"Curse the spirits," Giller whispered, "nothing is ever easy." He turned around again and snatched
the Queen's box off the marble stand.

"Giller! You mustn't touch that! It's the Queen's!"

He looked a little mad when he looked down at her. "No! It's not! Just wait, and I will explain."

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.

"It looks just the same!"

"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."

She could tell by the way his face looked that he meant it. She nodded. "I will, Giller."

He laid his hand on the box. "This box has magic, and it does not belong to the Queen."

She frowned. "It doesn't? Who does it belong to?"

"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."

"I understand. Like the way the Princess has power, so she can slap me, and chop my hair crooked,
and laugh at me."

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."

"Father Rahl?" She was confused. "Everyone say he's nice. The Princess says he is the nicest man
in the world."

"The Princess also says she doesn't spill gravy on her dresses." He lifted an eyebrow.

"That's a lie."

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?"

She felt sad, and scared. "It means you chop off their head or something, and make them dead."

"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?"

Rachel nodded; she had a lump in her throat. "She doesn't like them to know she's really mean."

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."

"I will, for sure."

"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."

She smiled. "Like Sara. I don't let people know about her so they can't take her away from me. It
keeps her 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."

She nodded again. "I will, Gillen"

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."

Her eyes got real big. "Giller! We mustn't let her give him the box! Or all those people will get their
heads chopped off!"

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."

"We have to hide it, hide the box, like I hide Sara!"

"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."

She looked up at the fake box. It looked just like the real one. "Giller, you're the most clever man I
ever did know." His smile went away a little. "I'm afraid, child, that I am too clever for my own
good." His smile came back. "Here is what we are going to do."

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.

"What do you think?"

She made a face. "It's all cracked. People will know it's been broken."

He shook his head. "Smart. You are really smart. Well, since I'm a wizard, perhaps I could do
something about that. What do you think?"

She nodded. "Maybe."

He put the bread in his lap. and made his hands go all around in the air over it. He took his hands
away and held the bread up in front of her face again. The cracks were gone! It looked just like
new!

"No one will know now for sure." She giggled.

"Let's hope you're right, child. I have put a wizard's web, a magic spell, in the bread, to be sure no
one will be able to see the magic of the box inside it."

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.

"Now, here's the hard part, Rachel. We have to get this box away from here. We can't hide it in the
castle, or it might be found. You remember where I hid your doll, in the garden?"

She smiled proudly, she remembered. "Third urn on the right."

He nodded. "I will hide this there, just like I hid your doll. You must go and get it, just like you did
with your doll, and then take it out of the castle." He leaned a little closer. "You have to do it
tonight." She started twisting her finger in the hem of her dress. She started to get tears in her eyes.
"Giller, I'm scared to touch the Queen's box."

"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?"

"Yes," she whined. "But, couldn't you take it away from the castle?"

"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?"

"No . . ." Then she got real scared. "Giller, you said you were going to run away with me. You
promised."

"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."

"I guess I can. If you say it's important, I'll try."

Giller moved up and sat on the stool. He pulled her up with his hands around her waist, and set her
on his knee.

"Rachel, you listen to me. If you live to be a hundred years old, you will never again do anything as
important as this. You must be brave, braver than you have ever been before. You must not trust
anyone. You must not let anyone get the box. I will come get you in a few days, but if something
goes wrong, and I don't come, you must hide with the box until winter. Then everything will be all
right. If I knew of anyone else to help you, I would get them to do it. But I don't. You are the only
one who can do this."

She watched him with big eyes. "I'm just little," she said.

"That is why you will be safe. Everybody thinks you are a nobody. But that isn't true. You are the
most important person in the world, but you can trick them because they don't know. You must do
this, Rachel. I need your help so much, and so does everyone else. I know you're smart enough, and
brave enough to do it." She could see that his eyes were wet. "I'll try, Giller. I'll be brave and do it.
You're the bestest man in the whole world, and if you say to do it, I will."

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."

He put a finger on each side of her forehead and she felt a safe feeling in her head. She knew she
would be able to do it and she would never have to do as the Princess said again. She would be
free. Giller suddenly pulled his fingers away.

"Someone comes," he whispered. He kissed her head real quick. "Good spirits protect you, Rachel."

He stood up and put his back to the wall, behind the door. He slipped the loaf of bread into his
robes, and put his finger over his lips. The door opened, and Rachel jumped to her feet. It was
Princess Violet. Rachel curtsied: When she came back up, the Princess slapped her, then laughed.
Rachel looked down at the ground, and while she rubbed her cheek, holding back the tears, she saw
a piece of bread between Princess Violet's feet. She took a quick glance at Giller, who stood
pressed against the wall behind the door. His eyes went to the bread. Quieter than a cat, he bent
down and snatched up the bread, put it in his mouth, then slipped out the door behind Princess
Violet's back without her ever seeing him.

-+---
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.

He held the rope taut between his shaking fist, his mind feeling the last of' his hope finally
abandoning him. Nothing was changing, nothing was getting any better, as he had hoped; it was
one long endless battle with her-she wanting to die, he trying constantly to prevent it.

"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."

Her green eyes came up to his; the firelight flickered in them. "Then let me go, Richard. Please, if
you care at all for me, then show it. Let me go."

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.

"You win. Get out of here. Get out of my sight."

"Richard . . .

"I said get out of here!" He pointed back the way they had come. "Go back and let the gars do the
job. You may botch it with that knife! I'd hate to think you slipped and didn't finish it properly. I'd
hate to think that after all this, you might not be dead."

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.

"Richard . . . after all we have been through together, I don't want it to be finished like this."

"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."

Kahlan nodded, and looked down at the ground. Richard leaned over, elbows on his knees, his face
in his shaking hands. He thought he might throw up.

"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.

"I will only remember you for what you are! A traitor! A traitor to all those who have died, all
those who will die!" Her eyes were wide as she tried to back away from him, but he held her with a
vengeance. "A traitor to all the wizards who have given their lives, to Shar, to Siddin and all the
Mud People who were killed! A traitor to your sister!"

"That's not true . . . ."

"A traitor to all those and more! If I fail and Rahl wins, we will all have you to thank, and so will
Darken Rahl. It is you who aids him!"

"I do this to help you! You heard what Shota said!" She was getting angry now, too.

"That won't work. Not for me. Yes, I heard what Shota said. She said that both Zedd and you would
turn against me somehow. She did not say you both would be wrong!"

"What do you mean . . ."

"This is not a quest for me! It's to stop Rahl! How do you know that once we have the box it might
not be me who would deliver it to him? What if it's me who would betray us, and the only chance to
keep the box from Rahl is for you and Zedd to stop me?"

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Does it make any more sense that both you and Zedd would try to kill me? That would require two
to be wrong, this would require only one. It's just the stupid riddle of a witch woman! You're letting
yourself die for a stupid riddle! We can't know how the future will come about. We can't know the
meaning of what she said, how it will be true! Or if. Not until it happens! Only then can we know
what it means, and deal with it."

"I only know I cannot allow myself to live to carry out the prophecy. You are the thread that
weaves this struggle together."

"And thread can't get there without the needle! You're my needle. Without you I wouldn't have
gotten this far. At every turn, 1 needed you. Today, at the inverted fork, I would have chosen wrong
without you. You know the Queen, I don't. Even if I manage to get the box without you, what then?
Where will I go? I don't know the Midlands. Where will I go, Kahlan, tell me? How will I know
where it's safe? I could walk right into Rahl's hands, carry the box right to him."

"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."

"You are a traitor to us," he whispered viciously.

She shook her head slowly. "Despite what you think, Richard, I do this for you."

Richard screamed and threw her backward as hard as he could. She fell to the ground on her back.
He came and stood above her, glaring down, dust rising around his boots.

"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!"

She came to her feet, keeping her eyes on him. "I would give almost anything, Richard, for you not
to remember me in this way. But what I do, I do because I must. For you. For you to have a chance.
I have sworn to protect the Seeker with my life. The payment has come due." Tears ran down her
face, through the dust on her cheeks.

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.

He went to the fire, slid his back down the log until he sat on the ground. He pulled his knees up
with his arms around them, put his face against them, and cried as he had never cried

CHAPTER 3

3
RACHEL SAT ON HER little chair behind the Princess, knocking her knees together, thinking
about how she would get the Princess to put her out so she could take the box away with her and
never come back. She kept thinking about the loaf of bread with the box in it, waiting for her in the
garden. She was afraid, but excited, too. Excited that she was going to be helping all those people
so they wouldn't get their heads chopped off. It was the first time she had ever felt like an important
person. She twisted the hem of her dress. She could hardly wait to get away.

All the lords and ladies were drinking their special drink. They all seemed happy to be doing it.
Giller was standing behind the Queen with her other advisors. He was talking quietly to the court
artist. She didn't like the artist, he scared her, he always smiled funny at her. And he only had one
hand. She had heard the servants talking before, that they were afraid the artist would draw a
picture of them.

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.

They were the biggest men she had ever seen. Their shirts didn't have sleeves but their arms had
metal bands on them, with sharp things sticking out. The men had big muscles all over, and yellow
hair. They looked like the meanest men she had ever seen, meaner even than any of the dungeon
guards. The men looked around the room at the people, then went and stood on each side of the big
archway behind the Queen and folded their arms. The Queen huffed and turned around in her chair
to see what was happening.

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.

"What an unexpected surprise!" she said in her nicest dog voice. "We are honored. But we weren't
expecting you until tomorrow."

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."

The Queen giggled as she held her hand out for him to kiss. She was always having people kiss her
hand. Rachel was surprised at what the nice-looking man had said. She never knew anyone who
thought the Queen was lovely. The Queen took his hand in hers and brought him forward.

"Lords and ladies, may I introduce Father Rahl."

Father Rahl! She looked around to see if anyone had seen her jump, taut no one had; they were all
looking at Father Rahl. She was sure he was going to look at her, and see that she was going to run
away with the box. She looked at Giller, but he didn't look back. His face was white. Father Rahl
was here before she had run away with the box! What was she going to do?

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.

Father Rahl looked around at all the people who were standing up now. The little dog barked. He
turned to the source of the sound and it stopped barking; instead it began to whine softly. He turned
back to the people. It got real quiet.

"Dinner is over. You will excuse us now," he said in a soft voice.

Everyone started whispering. His blue eyes watched. The whispering stopped and they started to
leave, first slow, then faster. Father Rahl looked at some of the royal advisors, and they left,
looking glad to be doing it. A few he didn't look at, including Giller, stayed. Princess Violet stayed,
too, and Rachel tried to stay behind her so she wouldn't be noticed. The Queen smiled and held her
arm out to the table.

"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."

He looked at her with blue eyes that didn't blink. "I don't approve of butchering helpless animals
and then consuming their flesh."

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 . . ."

"Perhaps some other time. I am not here to eat, I am here for your contribution to the alliance."

"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."

"I will be only too happy to sign anything you have ready, and offer my word that I will sign
whatever additional documents you might have drawn up. I trust your honesty to deal with me
fairly." He smiled. "You don't have any intention of tricking me somehow with these agreements,
do you?"

"Well, no, Father Rahl, of course not. Of course not."

"There you have it, then. Why would I need anyone to look over these papers, if you are being fair
with me? You are being fair, you say?"

"Well, of course I am. I guess there is no need . . . but this is most unusual."

"So is our alliance. Let's be on with it, then."

"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."

He bowed. "Of course, Your Majesty." Rachel felt alone and afraid when she saw him go through
the door, his silver robes flying behind him.

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.

The advisor came back with his helpers; they each carried armfuls of papers. They moved plates
aside and laid the papers all over the head table, pointing to where the Queen and Father Rahl
should sign their names. One of the helpers dripped red wax on the papers, and the Queen pressed
her seal into it. Father Rahl said he didn't have a seal, and that his written name would do, that he
was sure he would recognize his own writing in the future. When Giller came back, he stood off to
the side and waited until they finished. The men started gathering up all the papers, arguing with
each other about which order they went in. The Queen motioned Giller forward.

"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.

Father Rahl smiled a little smile as he reached out and carefully lifted the box from Giller's hands.
He turned it around a minute, looking at the pretty jewels. Then he motioned one of the big men
with all the muscles to come forward. When he did, Father Rahl looked him in the eye and handed
him the box.

With one hand, the man squeezed the box. It shattered. The Queen's eyes got real big.

"What is the meaning of this!" she asked.

Father Rahl's face got scary-looking. "That would be my question, Your Majesty. This box is a
counterfeit."

"Why, that's simply not possible ... there is no way ... I know for a fact ..." The Queen turned her
head to Giller. "Giller! What do you know of this?"

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."

Father Rahl's blue eyes stayed on the wizard the whole time he talked. Then they slid to one of his
men. The man came and grabbed the robes at the back of Giller's neck. He lifted Giller off the
ground with that one hand.

"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.

Rachel had a lump in her throat, tears in her eyes. She tried to be brave and not cry. She knew that
if she did, they might notice her.

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."

Father Rahl smiled a small smile to the Queen. "The wizard and I are going to go now, and have a
private conversation." He turned and walked out of the room, white robes flying behind him. The
man holding Giller up in the air followed Father Rahl. The other man stepped in front of the door
and folded his arms. Giller's feet didn't touch the ground as he was carried away.

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.

Run.

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.

Rachel kept remembering the voice in her head, Giller's voice, yelling at her to run. She looked
around; no one was paying any attention to her. She went around the tables, keeping her head
down, below the tabletops, so they wouldn't be able to see her. When she got to the other side of the
room, she poked her head up to see if anyone was looking. They weren't.

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.

Then she ran for the hall. She kept herself from getting tears, to be brave for Giller. Her bare feet
ran down the carpets, past the picture rugs hanging on the walls. Before she got to the guards at the
doors, she slowed down, so they wouldn't see her running. When they saw her coming, they pulled
up the big bolt and didn't say anything as she went through the door. The guards on the outside of
the door just glanced at her as she came through, then looked back out, watching the grounds.

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.

Away from the torches hung on the walls outside the castle it was dark, but she knew her way. The
grass was wet on her bare feet. At the third urn, she knelt down, looking to see that no one was
watching, then reached under the flowers. She felt the cloth around the bread, and pulled it out.
Untying the knots, she laid the four corners back, then reached in her pockets and put the meat, the
three hard rolls, and the cheese on top of the bread and tied the corners of the cloth back up.

Just before she started running for the outer-wall gate, she remembered, and made a little gasp. She
froze stiff, her eyes wide.

She had forgotten Sara Her doll was still in her sleeping box! Princess Violet would find her doll,
she would throw Sara in the fire! Rachel couldn't leave her doll there; she was running away and
not coming back. Sara would be afraid without her. Sara would get burned up.

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.

"I just let you out," he said.

She swallowed hard. "I know. But now I have to go back in for a few minutes."

"Forget something?"

She nodded and managed to make herself say, "Yes."

He shook his head and lifted the little window. "Open the door," he said to the guard inside. She
heard the heavy bolt open.

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.

She turned and went through the little door on the right. That was the servants' passageway. It was a
lot longer, but no one important would be in the servant halls or on the servant stairs. None of the
servants would stop her; they all knew she was the Princess's playmate, and they didn't want the
Princess mad at them. She would have to go down through the place where the servants stayed,
down under the big rooms and under the kitchen.

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.

There were some people in the halls on the bottom floor, servants carrying linens and blankets,
washwomen with buckets of water and mops, and men carrying bundles of firewood for the
fireplaces upstairs. Some of the people stopped and whispered to each other. They seemed excited.
She heard Giller's name and it made her get a lump in her throat.

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.

"Heard it myself, from those two that stand watch over the dining room. You know who I'm talking
about, the young one, Frank and the other, with the limp, Jenkins. Said the D'Haran guards told
them personal that there's going to be a search of the castle, top to bottom."

"What're they lookin' for?" a woman asked.

"Don't know. Least they didn't tell Frank and Jenkins. But I wouldn't want to be the one that had
whatever they're after. Those men from D'Hara could give you nightmares when you were wide
awake."

"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.

Rachel went on, through the big storeroom with all the columns. Barrels were on one side, all piled
up in rows on top of one another; boxes and crates and sacks were stacked up on the other side. The
room smelled damp and musty, and she could always hear mice scratching about. She went down
the middle, past the lamps hung on the side of columns, to the heavy door at the other end. The iron
strap hinges creaked when she strained and pulled on the iron ring and opened the door. Rust from
the ring got on her hands, so she wiped them on the stone. Another big door to the right led to the
dungeon. She went up the stairway. It was dark, with only one torch at the top, and she could hear
water go plink, plink, plink and echo. Through the door at the top that stood open a crack, she went
down the stone block halls like the wind that was always in them. She was too scared to cry. She
wanted Sara to be safe, with her, and away from here

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.

There was a fire in the fireplace, but no lamps were lit. She sneaked across the floor, feeling the fur
rug on her bare feet. She got down on her hands and knees and crept into her sleeping box, and
pulled the blanket back with one hand. She gasped. Sara wasn't there. She felt just as if a cold wind
had blown across her skin.

"Looking for something?" It was Princess Violet's voice.

For a minute, she couldn't move. She started to breathe hard, but she kept the tears from coming.
She couldn't let Princess Violet see her cry. She backed out of the box and saw there was a black
form standing in front of the fire. It was the Princess. She took a step forward, away from the
fireplace, toward Rachel. Her hands were behind her back. Rachel couldn't see what she had.

"I was just coming up to get in my box. To go to sleep."

"Is that so." Rachel could see better in the dark now, could see the smile on Princess Violet's face.
"You wouldn't happen to be looking for this, would you?"

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.

"Princess Violet, please .. ." she whined. Her hands reached out, pleading.

"Come here, and we'll talk about it"

Rachel stepped slowly to the Princess, stopping in front of her, twisting her finger in the hem of her
dress. The Princess suddenly slapped her, harder than she had ever slapped her before. It was so
hard that it made Rachel give out a little scream as she was knocked a step backward. She put her
left hand over the stinging pain. Tears welled up in her eyes. She jammed her fist into her pocket,
determined that she would not cry this time.

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 stepped back to the fireplace. "What did I tell you I would do if you ever had a
doll?"

"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."

The Princess laughed her awful laugh. "No. I'm going to throw it in the fire, just like I told you I
would. To teach you a lesson. What's her name?"

"She doesn't have a name."

"Well, no matter, she'll burn just as well."

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.

"Don't you dare throw my doll in the fire or you'll be sorry!"

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."

Rachel touched the magic fire stick to the doily on a small round marble table next to her. "Light
for me," she whispered.

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.

"Give me my doll, or r 1l burn you up."

"You wouldn't dare. . . : '

"Right now! If you don't, I'll set you on fire, and your skin will burn up."

Princess Violet pushed the doll at her. "Here. Please, Rachel, don't burn me. I'm afraid of fire."

Rachel took the doll with her left hand, hugging it to her, still holding the fire stick against the
Princess. Rachel was starting to feel sorry for her. Then she thought about how much her face hurt.
More than it had ever hurt before

"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.

Rachel knew it was a trick. As soon as there were guards around, she knew the Princess would say
to chop her head off. Then Princess Violet would really laugh at her, and burn Sara up too.

"Get in the box," Rachel said. "Then you can see how you like it."

"What!"

Rachel pushed the fire stick a little harder. "Right now, or I'll burn you up."

Princess Violet walked across the floor slow, with the fire stick at her back. "Rachel, think about
what you're doing, are you really . . .

"Be quiet and get inside. Unless you want me to burn you."

The Princess got down on her knees and crawled inside. Rachel looked in at her.

"Go to the back."

She did as she was told. Rachel shut the door with a clang and went to the drawer and got the key.
She locked the iron door on the iron box, then put the key in her pocket. She got down on her knees
and looked inside through the little window. She could hardly see the Princess's eyes looking back
in the dark.

"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?"

"Yes," came back the weak voice from the dark hole in the door.

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. '

Rachel smiled and tiptoed all the way to the door as she hugged Sara.

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.

"So that's it, a doll you forgot," the guard said.

She just nodded.

She heard the door clang shut behind as she went into the dark, to the garden. There were more
guards than she was used to seeing. The regular guards had new ones with them, dressed different.
The new ones looked at her more than the old ones did, and she could hear the regular ones telling
them who she was. She tried not to let them see her looking back as she walked with her doll,
holding it tight against her, trying to keep her feet from running.

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.

She could hardly breathe, hoping she could get out of the castle before they chased after her. She
remembered Mr. Sanders saying they were going to search the castle. She knew what they were
looking for. They wanted the box. She had promised Giller she would get it away, so they couldn't
have it and hurt all those people.

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.

Before she could decide what to do, they saw her, so she kept going. One of the regular guards
turned to lift the bolt. The new man put his arm up to stop him.

"It's just the Princess's playmate. The Princess puts her out sometimes."

"No one goes out," the new man said to him.

The regular guards stopped opening the door. "Sorry, little one, but you heard him, no one goes
out."

Rachel stood there with her mouth stuck shut. Her eyes stared at the new man while he looked
down at her. She swallowed. Giller was depending on her to get the box out. There was no other
way out. She tried to think what Giller would do.

"Well, all right," she said at last, "it's cold tonight, I'd rather stay in anyway."

"Well, there you go then. You get to stay in tonight," the regular guard said.

"What's you name?" Rachel asked.

He looked a little surprised. "Queen's lancer Reid."

With her doll in her hand, Rachel pointed at the other regular guard. "What's yours?"

"Queen's lancer Walcott."

"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?"

He hooked his thumbs in his belt. "What do you want to know for?"

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."

All -three of them stood back up a little and looked at each other. "That's true enough," Queen's
lancer Reid said to the new man. "The Princess is turning into her mother's daughter. A little
handful, what with the Queen letting her cut her teeth on the axe now." "No one goes out, those are
our orders," the new man repeated.

"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."

The new man looked down at her; he seemed a little mad. He looked back at the other two a
minute, then down at her again. "Well, it's obvious she's no threat. The orders were meant to protect
from threat, so I guess . . ."

Queen's lancer Walcott started lifting up the heavy bolt on the door.

"But I want to know what she's got there," the new man said.

"Just my supper and my doll," Rachel said, trying to make it sound unimportant.

"Let's have a look."

Rachel laid the bundle down on the ground and untied the knots, laying the corners back. She
handed Sara up to him.

He took Sara in his big hand, turning her around, looking. He turned her upside down and lifted her
dress with his big finger. Rachel kicked him in the leg, hard as she could.

"Don't you do that! Don't you have no respect?" she yelled.

The other two guards laughed. "You find anything dangerous under there?" Queen's lancer Reid
asked.

The new man looked over at the other two, handing Sara back down to her. "What else have you
got there?"

"I told you. My supper."

He started to bend over. "Well, a little thing like you has no need for a whole loaf of bread."

"That's mine!" she yelled. "Leave it be!"

"Leave it alone," Queen's lancer Walcott told the new man

"She gets little enough. It look to you like the Princess overfeed her?"

The new man straightened up. "I guess not." He let out a deep breath. "Go on. Get out of here."