Chapter 37

Richard woke when he heard Kahlan come back and toss some wood in the fire. Light was just starting to creep across the tips of distant mountains, casting them in a soft pink glow, dark clouds behind making the snowcapped peaks stand out all the more. Zedd lay on his back, eyes wide open, snoring. Richard rubbed the sleep from his eyes and yawned.

“How about some tava-root porridge?” he whispered, wanting to let Zedd sleep.

“Sounds good,” she whispered back.

Richard pulled the roots from his pack and began peeling them with his knife while Kahlan retrieved a pot.

When he finished cutting them up, he tossed the roots in with the water she had added from a skin. “This is the last of them. We’ll have to start digging some more roots tonight, but I doubt we’ll find tava. Not in this rocky ground.”

“I picked some berries.”

Together they warmed their hands at the fire. More than a queen, he thought. He tried to imagine a queen in fine robes and a crown, picking berries.

“You see anything while you were on watch?”

She shook her head. Then she seemed to remember something and her face came up. “But one time, I did hear something strange. It was down here, near the camp. It was like a growl, then a yelp. I almost came and woke you, but it was gone as soon as it started, and I didn’t hear it again.”

“Really.” He glanced over each shoulder. “Down here. Wonder what that was about. I guess I was so tired it didn’t wake me.”

Richard mashed the pot of roots when they were done and added a little sugar. Kahlan dished up the porridge and added a big handful of berries on top of each.

“Why don’t you wake him,” she said.

Richard smiled. “Watch this.”

He tapped his spoon a few times against the side of the tin bowl. Zedd made a short snort, and sat bolt upright.

The old man blinked twice. “Breakfast?”

With their backs to him, they both giggled.

“You’re in a good mood this morning,” she said, looking over.

He smiled. “Zedd’s back with us.”

Richard walked over and handed Zedd a bowl of porridge, then sat with his own on the low ledge. Kahlan made herself comfortable on the ground, wrapping a blanket around her legs while she balanced her bowl with one hand. Zedd didn’t bother to unwrap himself from his blanket as he ate. Richard waited, biding his time, eating slowly while Zedd bolted his porridge.

“Good!” Zedd proclaimed as he rose to get himself another bowlful from the pot.

Richard waited until his old friend was spooning from the pot, then said, “Kahlan told me what happened. I mean, she told me about how you made her tell you about Shota.”

Kahlan froze with a look as if she had been struck by lightning.

Zedd flinched up straight and spun to her. “Why did you tell him! I thought you didn’t want him to know you . . .”

“Zedd . . . I never . . .”

Zedd’s face grimaced. He turned slowly to Richard, who hunched over his bowl, methodically spooning porridge into his mouth.

He didn’t bother to look up. “She didn’t tell me. But you just did.”

Richard put the last spoonful in his mouth, and after he swallowed he licked his spoon clean and dropped it in the tin bowl with a clank.

His face, calm and triumphant, came up to the wizard’s squinting eyes. “Wizard’s First Rule,” Richard announced with a wisp of a smile. “The first step to believing something is wanting to believe it is true . . . or being afraid it is.”

“I told you,” Kahlan fumed at Zedd. “I told you he would find out.”

Zedd paid her no attention—his eyes were locked on Richard.

“I thought about it last night,” Richard explained as he set down his bowl. “I decided you were right, that you should know what Shota said. After all, you’re a wizard, maybe there’s something in it you could help us with to stop Darken Rahl. I knew you wouldn’t rest until you knew what had happened. I decided I would tell you today, but then I figured you would get it out of Kahlan first, one way or another.”

Kahlan fell back on the blanket, laughing.

Zedd straightened his back and put his fists on his hips. “Bags! Richard, do you have any idea what you have just done?”

“Magic,” Richard smiled. “A trick, if done properly, is magic.” He shrugged. “Or so I’ve been told.”

Zedd nodded slowly. “Indeed.” He pointed a thin finger skyward, the sparkle returning to his intense hazel eyes. “You have tricked a wizard with his own rule. Not one of my wizards was ever able to do that.” He stepped closer, a grin spreading on his face. “Bags, Richard! You have it! You have the gift, my boy! You can be a wizard of the First Order, like me.”

Richard frowned. “I don’t want to be a wizard.”

Zedd ignored his words. “You have passed the first test.”

“You just said none of the other wizards was able to do it, so how could they be wizards if they couldn’t pass the test?”

Zedd gave him a one-sided smile. “They were wizards of the Third Order. One, Giller, is of the Second Order. None were able to pass the tests to be a wizard of the First Order. They didn’t have the gift. Only the calling.”

Richard made a smirk. “It was just a trick. Don’t make something out of it that it wasn’t.”

“A very special trick.” Zedd’s eyes narrowed again. “I’m impressed. I’m also very proud of you.”

“And how many of these tests are there, if this is the first?”

Zedd shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a few hundred or so. But you have the gift, Richard.” A shadow of worry passed across his eyes, as if he hadn’t expected it. “You must learn to control it, or . . .” His eyes lit up again. “I will teach you. You really could be a wizard of the First Order.”

Richard realized he was starting to listen too closely, and shook his head to clear it. “I told you, I don’t want to be a wizard.” He added under his breath, “I don’t want anything to do with magic ever again when this is over.” He realized that Kahlan was staring at him. He looked from one wide-eyed face to another. “It was just a stupid little trick. Nothing more.”

“Just a stupid little trick if done on someone else. No small trick, if done on a wizard.”

Richard rolled his eyes. “The both of you are . . .”

Zedd leaned forward eagerly, cutting him off. “Can you command the wind?”

Richard leaned back a little. “Of course I can,” he said, playing along. He held both hands up to the sky. “Come to me, brother wind! Gather about! Blow a gale for me!” He spread his arms dramatically.

Kahlan wrapped her cloak around herself expectantly. Zedd looked about. Nothing happened. The two of them seemed a little disappointed.

“What’s the matter with the two of you?” Richard scowled. “Did you eat some bad berries?”

Zedd turned to her. “He must learn that later.”

Kahlan considered what Zedd said, then looked up at Richard. “Richard . . . to be a wizard, it’s not an offer made to many.”

Zedd scrubbed his hands together. “Bags! I wish I had the books here with me now. I’d bet a dragon’s tooth they have something to say about this.” His face darkened. “But then there is the matter of the pain . . . and . . .”

Richard squirmed uncomfortably. “And just what kind of wizard are you anyway? You don’t even have a beard.”

Zedd came out of his own thoughts and frowned. “What?”

“A beard. Where’s your beard? I’ve been wondering about it ever since I found out you were a wizard. Wizards are supposed to have beards, you know.”

“Who told you this?”

“Well . . . I don’t know. Everybody knows it. Wizards are supposed to have beards. It’s common knowledge. I’m surprised you don’t know it.”

Zedd made a face as if he had just sucked on a lemon. “But I hate beards. They itch.”

Richard shrugged. “Seems you don’t know as much as you think you do about being a wizard, if you don’t even know wizards are supposed to have beards.”

Zedd folded his arms. “A beard is it?” He unfolded his arms, and began drawing his fingers and thumb down opposite sides of his chin. As he drew his fingers repeatedly, whiskers began appearing. The more he did this, the longer the whiskers grew. Richard watched, wide-eyed, until a snow white beard reached to the middle of Zedd’s chest.

Zedd cocked his head and gave Richard an intent look. “Will this do, my boy?”

Richard realized his mouth was open. He made it shut, but could only nod.

Zedd scratched his chin and neck. “Good. Now give me your knife, so I can shave this thing off. It itches like ants.”

“My knife? What do you need my knife for? Why don’t you just make it disappear like you made it appear?”

Kahlan gave a little laugh, then made her face straight when he glanced at her.

“It doesn’t work that way. Everyone knows it doesn’t work that way,” Zedd mocked. He turned to Kahlan. “Doesn’t everyone know? You tell him.”

“Magic can only do things that use what is there. It cannot undo things that have happened.”

“I don’t understand.”

Zedd peered at him with sharp eyes. “Your first lesson, should you ever decide to become a wizard. The three of us all have magic. It is all Additive Magic. Additive Magic uses what is there, and adds to it, or uses it somehow. The magic Kahlan has uses the spark of love in a person, no matter how small, and adds to it until it’s changed into something else. The magic of the Sword of Truth uses your anger, and adds to it, takes power from it, until it becomes something else.

“I do the same thing. I can use whatever I need in nature to change things. I can change a bug to a flower, I can change a fear to a monster, I can make a broken bone knit, I can take heat from the air around us and add to it, multiply it into wizard’s fire. I can make my beard grow. But, I can’t make it ungrow.” A rock big as his fist started rising into the air. “I can lift something. I can change it.” The rock crushed to dust.

“Then, you can do anything,” Richard whispered.

“No. I can lift or crush or move the rock, but I can’t make it vanish. Where would it go? That’s called Subtractive Magic: the undoing of things. My magic, Kahlan’s magic, the sword’s magic, is from this world. All magic from this world is Additive Magic. Darken Rahl can do any of it I can.” Zedd’s expression turned dark. “Subtractive Magic is from the underworld. Darken Rahl knows how to use that too. I don’t.”

“Is it as powerful as Additive Magic?”

“Subtractive Magic is the counter to Additive. As night is to day. Yet it is all part of the same thing. The Magic of Orden is the magic of both, Additive and Subtractive. It can add to the world, and it can take the world to nothing. To open the boxes, you must be a master of both magics. People never worried about it ever happening, because no one was ever able to tap Subtractive Magic. But Darken Rahl commands it as easily as I command the Additive.”

“And how do you suppose that came to be?” Richard asked with a frown.

“I have no idea. But it troubles me greatly.”

Richard drew a deep breath. “Well, I still think you are getting worked up over nothing. All I did was a little trick.”

Zedd gave him a serious glare. “If done on a normal person, it would have been as you say. But I’m a wizard. I know how the Wizard’s Rules work. You would not have been able to do this to me, except with magic of your own. I have taught many to be wizards. I have had to teach them to do what you have done. They could not do it without learning it first. Once in a great while, one is born with the gift. I was one such as this. Richard, you have the gift too. Sooner or later you will have to learn to control it.” He put out his hand. “Now, give me the knife so I can rid myself of this ridiculous beard.”

Richard put the knife handle in Zedd’s hand. “The blade is dull. I’ve been digging roots with it. It’s too dull to shave with.”

“Really?” Zedd pinched the edge of the blade between his thumb and forefinger, drawing them along the length of the knife. He turned the knife around and held it delicately between his thumb and two fingers. Richard grimaced at him shaving dry with a light stroke, a swath of beard fell away.

“You just used Subtractive Magic! You made some of the edge go away to sharpen it.”

Zedd arched an eyebrow. “No, I used what was already there, and re-formed the edge, making it sharp again.”

Richard shook his head and went about gathering up their things while Zedd shaved off the beard. Kahlan helped put things away.

“You know, Zedd,” Richard said as he picked up the bowls, “I think you’re getting too obstinate in your ways. I think when this is over, you need someone. Someone to take care of you, help keep your perspectives straight. Put the light of day to your imagination. I think you need a wife.”

“A wife?”

“Sure. I think that’s what you need. Maybe you should go back and take another look at Adie.”

“Adie?”

“Yes, Adie,” Richard scolded. “You remember Adie. The woman with one foot.”

“Oh, I remember Adie quite well.” He gave Richard his most innocent look. “But Adie has two good feet, not one.”

Richard and Kahlan both came to their feet in a rush. “What?”

“Yes,” Zedd smiled, turning away. “Seems it grew back.” He bent, pulling an apple from Richard’s pack. “Quite unexpectedly.”

Richard took Zedd’s sleeve and turned him around. “Zedd, you . . .”

The wizard smiled. “Are you thoroughly sure you wouldn’t like to be a wizard?” He took a bite of the apple, pleased at seeing the astonishment on Richard’s face. Zedd handed him the knife, the blade as sharp as he had ever seen it.

Richard shook his head and turned to his work. “I just want to go home and be a guide. Nothing more.” He thought awhile, then asked, “Zedd, all the time I grew up with you, you were a wizard and I never knew. You didn’t use the magic. How could you stand not to? Why didn’t you?”

“Ah, well, there are dangers to using the magic. Also, pain.”

“Dangers? Like what?”

Zedd regarded him for a moment. “You have used magic with the sword. You tell me.”

“But that’s the sword, that’s different. What dangers are there for a wizard in using the magic? And what pain?”

Zedd gave a small, sly smile. “Only just finished with the first lesson, and already he is eager for the second.”

Richard straightened. “Never mind.” He hoisted the pack onto his back. “All I want to be is a woods guide.”

Apple in hand, Zedd started toward the trail. “So you have told me.” He took a big bite. “Now, I want you two to tell me everything that has happened since I was knocked unconscious. Don’t leave out a thing, no matter how trivial.”

Richard and Kahlan exchanged a crimson look. “I won’t tell if you don’t,” he whispered.

She held him back with a hand on his arm. “I swear, not a word about what happened in the spirit house.”

By the look in her eyes, he knew she meant to keep her word.

For the rest of the day as they trudged along the trails, keeping off the main roads, the two of them told Zedd the stories of everything that had happened since they were attacked that day at the boundary. Zedd made them go back to previous events at the oddest places in a story. Working off each other’s words, Richard and Kahlan managed to weave the story of the Mud People without mention of anything that happened between them in the spirit house.

As they drew nearer to Tamarang, they crisscrossed roads, and began to see refugees carrying their belongings on their backs, or on small carts. Richard saw to it that they didn’t stay long in the sight of people, and placed himself between them and Kahlan whenever he could. He didn’t want anyone recognizing the Mother Confessor. He was relieved each time they were back in the woods. The forest was where he was most comfortable, even though it had proven its dangers to them.

Late in the day, they had to take to the main road in order to cross the Callisidrin River. It was too big and swift to risk fording, so they took the big wooden bridge. Zedd and Richard kept Kahlan protectively between them as they walked among the people crossing the bridge. Kahlan kept the hood of her cloak up so people wouldn’t see her long hair. Most of the people were headed for Tamarang, seeking shelter and safety from the marauding forces, supposedly sweeping in from Westland. Kahlan said that they would reach Tamarang by the middle of the next day. From now on they would have to travel most of the time on the road. Richard knew that they would have to move far from the road at night to be clear of any people. He began watching the sun so as to leave them time to move deep enough into the forest before it became too dark.


“Does that feel good?”

Rachel pretended Sara answered that it did, and tucked a little more grass around her doll to be doubly sure she was warm enough. She nestled the loaf of bread with the cloth tied around it next to Sara.

“You’ll be warm for now. I have to go get some wood before it’s too dark, and then we’ll have a fire. Then we can both be warm.”

She left Sara with the bread in the wayward pine and went outside. The sun was down, but it was still light enough to see. The clouds were a pretty pink. She looked at them once in a while as she picked up sticks, holding them against her body with the other arm. She checked her pocket to be sure the fire stick was still there. She had almost forgotten it last night, and was scared now, unless she checked to make sure she hadn’t forgotten it again.

She looked up again at the pretty clouds. Just as she did, some big dark thing swooped low over the trees a little way up the hill.

It must be some big bird, she thought. Ravens were big, and dark. It must be one of those noisy ravens. She picked up some more sticks. Then she saw a bunch of blueberry bushes, low against the ground in an open place, their leaves starting to turn a flaming red. She threw the sticks down.

She was so hungry, she sat down on the berry bushes and started eating them as fast as she could pick. It was getting late in the year, and the berries were starting to get dry and shriveled, but they were still good. In fact, they tasted wonderful. She started putting one in her pocket for each one she ate. She moved on her hands and knees, picking berries, eating them, and putting them in her pocket. It was getting darker. Once in a while, she looked up at the pretty clouds. They were getting a darker color. Purple.

When her stomach felt better, and her pocket was full, she picked the sticks up and went back to the wayward pine. Once back inside, she untied the cloth that was around the bread and dumped the berries from her pocket onto the cloth. She sat down and ate the berries off the cloth as she chatted with Sara, offering to share her berries as she ate. Sara didn’t eat many. Rachel wished she had a mirror. She wished she could look in a mirror at her hair. Earlier in the day, she had seen herself in a dark pool. Her hair looked so wonderful, all even. Richard was such a nice man to cut it for her.

She missed Richard. She wished he were here now, to run away with her, to hug her. He gave the bestest hugs in the whole world. If Kahlan weren’t so mean, he could give her hugs too. Kahlan would find out then how wonderful his hugs were. For some reason, Rachel missed her, too. Her stories, and her songs, and her fingers on her forehead. Why did she have to be so mean and say she was going to hurt Giller? Giller was one of the nicest men in the world. Giller gave her Sara.

Rachel broke the sticks as best she could, so they would fit in the circle of stones she had made. After stacking them carefully, she pulled out the fire stick.

“Light for me.”

She set the fire stick down on the cloth with the berries and then warmed her hands and ate a few berries while she told Sara some of her troubles, how she wished Richard were hugging her, how she wished Kahlan weren’t mean, how she hoped Kahlan didn’t hurt Giller, how she wished she had something other than berries to eat.

Some bug bit her on the neck. She let out a little squeal and swatted it. There was a little bit of blood on her hand when she took it away. And a fly.

“Look, Sara. Look at how that stupid fly bit me. It made blood.”

Sara seemed sorry for her sting. Rachel ate a few more berries.

Another fly bit her neck. Rachel swatted it, not squealing this time. There was another spot of blood on her hand.

“That hurt!” she told Sara. With a frown, she threw the squished fly in the fire.

The fly that bit her on the arm made her jump. She slapped it flat. Another bit her neck. Rachel flailed at the flies in the air around her face. Two more bit her neck, making blood before she smacked them. Tears welled up in her eyes from the pain of the stings.

“Get away!” she yelled as she waved her hands around.

Some were inside her dress, biting her chest and back. More bit her neck.

Rachel started screaming as she batted at the flies, trying to get them off. Tears streamed down her cheeks. A fly bit the inside of her ear, making her scream even louder. The sound of it buzzing in her ear made her cry and scream as she dug with her finger, trying to get it out. She thrashed her arms as she yelled.

Rachel screamed in a high pitch as she stumbled out of the wayward pine, wiping flies off her eyes. She ran, arms lashing out, trying to get the flies away. The flies followed her as she ran and screamed.

Something in front of her made her stop dead in her tracks.

Her wide eyes worked their way up the giant, fur-covered body of the thing. Its belly was pink, and had flies on it.

Against the fading colors of the sky, it slowly unfolded huge wings, spreading them wide. Not wings covered with feathers, wings covered with skin. Rachel could see big blood veins in them, throbbing.

With all her courage, she put her shaking hand in her pocket. The fire stick wasn’t there. Her legs wouldn’t move. She didn’t even feel the flies that were biting her. She heard a sound like a cat purring, but a lot louder. Her eyes went up further.

Glowing green eyes glared down at her. The purring sound was a low growl.

The mouth opened with a louder growl, lips pulling back, showing its long, curved teeth.

Rachel couldn’t run. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t even scream. She shook as her wide eyes looked up into those mean eyes that glowed green. She forgot how to move her feet.

A big claw reached for her.

She felt something warm running down her legs.

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