Wizard's First Rule

Chapter 43

Denna didn’t train him the next morning, but instead took him for a walk. Master Rahl had said he wanted to see Richard after the second devotion. After it was over and they were starting to leave, Constance stopped them.

“You look surprisingly well today, Sister Denna.”

Denna looked at her without emotion. Richard was furious at Constance for talking to Master Rahl about Denna, for getting her punished, and had to concentrate on Denna’s braid.

Constance turned to Richard. “Well, I hear you are to be granted an audience with Master Rahl today. If you are still alive afterward, you will be seeing more of me. Alone. I want a piece of you, as it were, when he’s finished with you.”

He spoke before he thought. “The year they chose you, Mistress Constance, must have been a year of desperate need—otherwise, one of such limited intelligence would never have been selected to be Mord-Sith. Only the most ignorant would put their own petty ambitions above the value of a friend. Especially a friend who has sacrificed much for you. You are not worthy to kiss Mistress Denna’s Agiel.” Richard smiled smoothly, confidently, as she stood startled. “You had better hope Master Rahl kills me, Mistress Constance, because if he doesn’t, then the next time I see you, I’m going to kill you for what you’ve done to Mistress Denna.”

Constance stared in shock, then suddenly drove her Agiel toward him. Denna’s longer arm came up. She slammed her own Agiel against Constance’s throat, holding her back. Constance’s eyes bulged in surprise. She coughed blood, and dropped to her knees, clutching her hands to her throat.

Denna stared down at her a moment before starting off without a word. Richard followed, attached by the chain. He sped up to walk beside her.

Denna kept her eyes ahead, showing no emotion. “Just try and guess how many hours that has earned you.”

Richard smiled. “Mistress Denna, if there is a Mord-Sith who could raise a scream from a dead man, it would be you.”

“And if Master Rahl doesn’t kill you, how many hours?”

“Mistress Denna, there are not enough hours in a lifetime to dim my pleasure at what I have done.”

She smiled a little, but didn’t look over. “I’m glad, then, that it was worth it for you.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “I still don’t understand you. As you said, we can be no more, no less, than who we are. I regret I can be no more than I am, and I fear you can be no less. Were we not warriors fighting on opposite sides in this war, I would keep you as a mate for life, and work to see you die of old age.”

Richard was warmed by her gentle tone. “I would try my best to live a long life for you, Mistress Denna.”

They walked on through the halls, past the devotion squares, past the statues, past the people. She took him upstairs, through vast rooms of exquisite decorations. She stopped in front of a pair of doors covered in carvings of rolling hills and forests, all sheathed in gold.

Denna turned to him. “Are you prepared to die this day, my love?”

“The day is not over yet, Mistress Denna.”

She slipped her arms around his neck, kissing him tenderly. She pulled her face away a few inches, stroked the back of his head. “I’m sorry, Richard, that I do these things to you, but I have been trained to do them, and can do nothing less—I live only to hurt you. Know that it is not by choice, but by training. I can be no more than what I am: Mord-Sith. If you are to die this day, my love, then make me proud, and die well.”

He was mate to a madwoman, he thought sadly. And one not of her own making.

She pushed the doors open and entered a grand garden. Richard would have been impressed, had his mind not been on other things. They went down a path between flowers and shrubs, past short, vine covered stone walls, and small trees, to an expanse of lawn. A glass roof let in the light, keeping the plants healthy and in flower.

In the distance were two identically huge men. Their folded arms had metal bands with sharp projections just above their elbows. Guards of some sort, Richard thought. To their side stood another man. Imposing muscles flexed on his smooth chest. His short-cropped blond hair stood up in spikes, with a single black streak running through it.

Near the center of the lawn, near a circle of white sand, in a warm shaft of late-afternoon sunlight, stood a man with his back to them. The sunlight made his white robes and shoulder-length blond hair glow. Sparks of the sunlight glinted off the gold belt and curved dagger at his waist.

As Richard and Denna approached him, Denna dropped to her knees, putting her forehead to the ground. Richard had been instructed and did the same as he pushed his sword out of the way.

Together, they chanted. “Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.”

They chanted only once, then waited, Richard trembling slightly. He remembered that he was never to get near Master Rahl, to stay away from him, but couldn’t remember who told him so, only that it was important. He had to concentrate on Denna’s braid, to control the anger at what Master Rahl had done to her.

“Rise, my children.”

Richard stood with his shoulder close against Mistress Denna while intense blue eyes studied him. That the Master’s face looked kind, intelligent, pleasant, did not calm Richard’s churning fears, and the thoughts that boiled just below the surface of his mind. The blue eyes glided to Denna.

“You look surprisingly well this morning, my pet.”

“Mistress Denna is as good at taking pain as giving it, Master Rahl,” Richard heard himself say.

The blue eyes returned to his. The calmness, the peace, in Rahl’s face made Richard quiver. “My pet has told me you are nothing but trouble. I am pleased to see she has not lied to me. But not pleased to find it true.” He clasped his hands in a relaxed manner. “Well, no matter. How good to meet you at last, Richard Cypher.”

Denna drove the Agiel into his back with a sharp jab to remind him of what it was he was supposed to say. “It is my honor to be here, Master Rahl. I live only to serve. I am humbled in your presence.”

A small smile came to Rahl’s lips. “Yes, I am sure you are.” He studied Richard’s face for an uncomfortable moment. “I have some questions. You are going to give me the answers.”

Richard felt himself shaking slightly. “Yes, Master Rahl.”

“Kneel,” he said softly.

Richard went to his knees with the aid of the Agiel on his shoulder. Denna stepped behind and put a boot to each side of him. She pressed her thighs against his shoulders, bracing against them for leverage as she held his hair in her fist. She pulled his head back a little, making him look up into the Master’s blue eyes. Richard swallowed in terror.

Darken Rahl looked down without emotion. “You have seen the Book of Counted Shadows before?”

Something powerful in the back of his mind told Richard he shouldn’t answer. When he said nothing, Denna tightened her grip on his hair, and pushed the Agiel against the base of his skull.

There was a stunning explosion of pain in his head. Denna’s grip on his hair was all that kept him upright. It was as if she had compressed the pain of an entire training session into that one touch. He couldn’t move, breathe, or even cry out. He was beyond being in pain—the shock took everything from him, and in its place left an all-consuming agony of fire and ice. She took away the Agiel. He didn’t know where he was, who he was, or who was holding him, only that this was more pain than he had ever known before, and that there was a man in front of him, dressed in a white robe.

Blue eyes looked down at him. “You have seen the Book of Counted Shadows before?”

“Yes,” he heard himself say.

“Where is it now?”

Richard hesitated. He didn’t know how to answer—he didn’t know what the voice wanted. The pain exploded in his head again. When it stopped, he felt tears running down his cheeks.

“Where is it now?” the voice repeated.

“Please, don’t hurt me anymore,” he cried. “I don’t understand the question.”

“What is there not to understand? Simply tell me where the book is now.”

“The book, or the knowledge of the book?” Richard asked fearfully.

The blue eyes frowned. “The book.”

“I burned it in a fire. Years ago.”

Richard thought the eyes were going to tear him apart. “And where is the knowledge?”

Richard hesitated too long. When he was aware again, Denna yanked his head up to look into the blue eyes again. Richard had never felt so alone, so helpless, so afraid.

“Where is the knowledge that was in the book?”

“In my head. Before I burned the book, I learned the words, the knowledge.”

The man stood staring, unmoving. Richard cried softly.

“Recite the words of the book.”

Richard desperately didn’t want the Agiel in the back of his head again. He shook with the fear of it. “Verification of the truth of the words of the Book of Counted Shadows, if spoken by another, rather than read by the one who commands the boxes, can only be insured by the use of a Confessor . . .” Confessor.

Kahlan.

The name Kahlan went through Richard’s mind like a bolt of lightning. The power roared to life, blasting away the fog with the burning, white-hot glare of his memories. The door to the locked room in his mind was flung open. It all came back to him, brought back by the power as it rose in him. Richard was one with the power, at the thought of Darken Rahl having Kahlan—hurting her.

Darken Rahl turned to the other men. The one with the black stripe came forward.

“You see, my friend? The fates work for me. She is already on her way here with the Old One. Find her. See to it she is brought to me. Take two quads, but I want her alive, do you understand?” The man gave a nod. “You and your men will have the protection of my spell. The Old One is with her, but he will have no weapon against an underworld spell, if he is even alive by then.” Rahl’s voice became harder. “And Demmin, I don’t care what your men do to her, but she had better be alive when she gets here, and able to use her power.”

A little of the color left the man’s face. “I understand. It will be done as you wish, Lord Rahl.” He bowed deep.

He turned and left after meeting Richard’s eyes and giving a knowing smile.

Darken Rahl returned his blue eyes to Richard. “Continue.”

Richard had gone as far as he was going to go. He remembered everything.

It was time to die.

“I will not. There is nothing you can do to make me tell you. I welcome the pain. I welcome death.”

Before the Agiel could come, Rahl’s eyes snapped up to Denna. Richard felt her fist loosen on his hair. One of the guards marched forward, grabbed her by the throat with his big hand, squeezing, until Richard could hear her struggling to breathe.

Rahl glared at her. “You told me he was broken.”

“He was, Master Rahl.” She struggled to speak as she was being choked. “I swear.”

“I am very disappointed in you, Denna.”

As the man lifted her feet off the ground, Richard could hear her sounds of pain. Again, the power turned white-hot in him. Denna was being hurt. Before anyone knew what was happening, he was on his feet, the power of the magic raging through him.

Richard threw one arm around the man’s thick neck, grasping his opposite shoulder. He grabbed the man’s head with his other arm and in a blink gave a powerful twist. The man’s neck snapped. He went down in a heap.

Richard spun. The other guard was almost on him, his hand reaching out. Richard seized the man’s wrist and used his advancing weight to pull his adversary into the knife. He drove it in up to his fist and gave a mighty pull, cutting all the way up to the man’s heart as his blue eyes went wide in surprise. His insides spilled across the ground when he hit.

Richard stood panting with the power. Everything in his peripheral vision was white. White from the heat of the magic. Denna had her hands to her throat, clutching at the pain.

Darken Rahl stood calmly, licking the tips of his fingers as he watched Richard.

Denna brought on the pain of the magic enough to take Richard to his knees. He folded his arms across his gut.

“Master Rahl,” Denna gasped, “let me take him back for the night. I swear that in the morning, he will answer anything you ask him. If he’s still alive. Allow me to redeem myself.”

“No,” Rahl said, deep in thought, waving his hand a little. “I apologize, my pet. This is not your failing. I had no idea what we were dealing with. Turn off the pain in him.”

Richard recovered and returned to his feet. The fog had cleared from his head. He felt as if he were waking from a dream only to find himself in a nightmare. The rest of him was out of the little locked room in his mind, and he wasn’t putting it away again. He would die with all of his mind, his dignity, intact. He kept the anger choked off, but there was fire in his eyes. Fire in his heart.

“Did the Old One teach you that?” Rahl asked, a curious frown on his face.

“Teach me what?”

“To partition your mind. That was how you kept from being broken.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You put up a partition, to protect the core, sacrificed the rest to what would be done. A Mord-Sith cannot break a partitioned mind. Punish, yes. Break, no.” He turned to Denna. “Once again, I am sorry, my pet. I thought you had failed me. You have not. None but the most talented could have taken him this far. You have done well, but this makes matters altogether different.”

He smiled, licked his fingertips, smoothed them over his eyebrows. “Richard and I are going to have a private conversation now. While he is in this room with me, I wish you to let him speak without the pain of the magic. It interferes with what I may need to do. While he is here, he is to be free of your control. You may return to your quarters. When I am done with him, and if he is still alive, I will send him back to you, as promised.”

Denna bowed deeply. “I live to serve, Master Rahl.”

She turned to Richard, her face crimson, and put a finger under his chin, lifting it a little. “Don’t disappoint me, my love.”

The Seeker smiled. “Never, Mistress Denna.”

He let the anger rage, just to feel it again, as he watched her walk away. Rage at her, and at what had been done to her. Don’t think of the problem, he told himself, think of the solution. Richard turned to face Darken Rahl. The other’s face was calm, and showed nothing. Richard made his do the same.

“You know I want to know what the rest of the book says.”

“Kill me.”

Rahl smiled. “So eager to die, are we?”

“Yes. Kill me. Just like you killed my father.”

Darken Rahl frowned, the smile still on his lips. “Your father? I have not killed your father, Richard.”

“George Cypher! You killed him! Don’t try to deny it! You killed him with that knife at your belt!”

Rahl spread his hands in mock innocence. “Oh, I don’t deny killing George Cypher. But I have not killed your father.”

Richard stood caught off guard. “What are you talking about?”

Darken Rahl strolled around him, watching his eyes as Richard tried to follow him by turning his head. “It’s quite good. It really is. The best I have ever seen. Done by the great one himself.”

“What?”

Darken Rahl licked his fingers and stopped in front of him. “The wizard’s web around you. I’ve never seen one like it. It’s wound around you tight as a cocoon. Been there a good long time. It’s quite intricate—I don’t think even I could untangle it.”

“If you are trying to convince me George Cypher is not my father, you have failed. If you are trying to convince me you are mad, you needn’t bother. That much I already know.”

“My dear boy,” Rahl laughed, “I couldn’t care less who you believe your father to be. Nonetheless, there is a wizard’s web hiding the truth from you.”

“Really? I’ll play along. Who’s my father, if it’s not George Cypher?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Rahl shrugged. “The web hides it. But from what I’ve seen, I have my suspicions.” The smile left. “What does the Book of Counted Shadows say?”

Richard shrugged. “That’s your question? You disappoint me.”

“How so?”

“Well, after what was done to your bastard father, I thought sure you’d want to know the old wizard’s name.”

Darken Rahl glared as he slowly licked his fingertips. “What is the old wizard’s name?”

It was Richard’s turn to smile. He spread his arms wide. “Cut me open. It’s written on my guts. You will have to find it there.”

Richard kept the smirk on his face—he knew he was defenseless and was hoping Rahl would be driven to kill him. If he was dead, the book died with him. No box, no book. Rahl was going to die—Kahlan would be safe then. That was all that mattered.

“In one week, it will be the first day of winter, and I will know the name of the wizard, and have the power to snatch him from wherever he is, and bring his, hide to me.”

“In one week, you will be dead. You have only two boxes.”

Darken Rahl licked his fingers again and smoothed them over his lips. “I have two right now, and the third is on its way here, as we speak.”

Richard tried not to believe him. He let his face show nothing. “A brave boast. But a lie, nonetheless. In one week, you are going to die.”

Rahl raised his eyebrows. “I speak the truth. You have been betrayed. The same one who has betrayed you to me has also betrayed the box to me. It will be here in a few days.”

“I don’t believe you,” Richard said flatly.

Darken Rahl licked his fingertips and turned, walking around the circle of white sand. “No? Let me show you something.”

Richard followed him to a wedge of white stone upon which sat a flat slab of granite held up by two short fluted pedestals. In the center of the slab sat two of the boxes of Orden. One was ornately jeweled like the one Richard had seen before. The other was as black as the night stone, its surface a void in the light of the room: the box itself, its protective covering removed.

“Two of the boxes of Orden,” Rahl announced, holding his hand out to them. “Why would I want the book? The book would be useless to me without the third box. You had the third box. The one who betrayed you told me so. If the box were not on its way, why would I need the book? I would instead cut you open to get the location of the box.”

Richard shook with anger. “Who betrayed me and the box? Tell me the name.”

“Or what? Or you will cut me open and read the name on my guts? I will not betray the name of one who has helped me. You are not the only one with honor.”

Richard didn’t know what to believe. Rahl was right about one thing. He wouldn’t need the book if he didn’t have all three boxes. Someone really had betrayed him. It was impossible, but it must be true.

“Just kill me,” Richard said in a weak voice, turning away. “I’m not going to tell you. You might as well cut me open.”

“First you must convince me you are telling the truth. You could be, deceiving me that you really know the whole book. You may have read just the first page, and burned the rest, or simply be inventing what you have told me of it.”

Richard folded his arms and looked back over his shoulder. “And what possible reason could I have for wanting you to believe me?”

Rahl shrugged. “I thought you cared about this Confessor. Kahlan. I had thought you cared what happened to her. You see, if you can’t convince me that you are telling the truth, then I will have to cut her open, and have a look at her entrails, see if they have anything to say about this.”

Richard glared. “That would be the biggest mistake you could make. You need her to confirm the truth of the book. If you harm her, you destroy your chance.”

Rahl shrugged. “So you say. How would I know you really do know what the book says? It could even be that this is the manner in which she will confirm the truth.”

Richard said nothing, his mind racing in a thousand directions at once. Think of the solution, he told himself, not the problem.

“How did you get the covering off that box, without the book?”

“The Book of Counted Shadows is not the only source of information about the boxes. There are other places that are of aid to me.” He looked down at the dark box. “It took a full day, and every talent I have, to get the covering off.” He looked back up, lifting an eyebrow. “It’s held on with magic, you know. But I did it, and I will be able to do it to the other two.”

It was discouraging that Rahl had managed to get the covering off. To open a box, the covering had to be removed. Richard had hoped that without the book, Rahl wouldn’t be able to figure out how to remove the covers, and not be able to open a box. That hope was now lost.

Richard stared blankly at the jeweled box. “Page twelve of the Book of Counted Shadows. Under the heading Shedding the Covers, it says: The covering on the boxes may be removed by anyone with the knowledge, not only the one who has put them in play.” Richard reached out and lifted the jeweled box off the granite. “Page seventeen, third paragraph down on the page: If not, however, in the hours of darkness, but in the hours of the sun, the covering may be removed from the second box in the following manner. Hold the box where the sun may touch it, and face north. If there be clouds, hold the box where the sun would touch it if they were not present, but face the west.” Richard held the box up in the late-day sunlight. “Turn the box that the small end with the blue stone may face the quadrant with the sun. The yellow stone is to face up.” Richard turned the box. “With the second finger of the right hand on the yellow stone in the center of the top, place the thumb of the right hand on the clear stone in the corner of the bottom.” Richard grasped the box as directed. “Place the first finger of the left hand on the blue stone on the side facing away, the thumb of the left hand on the ruby stone of the side closest.” Richard placed his fingers so. “Clear your mind of all thought, and in its place, put nothing but the image of white with a square of black in its center. Pull the two hands apart, taking the covering away with them.”

As Rahl watched, Richard cleared his mind, pictured white with black in the center, and pulled. The cover made a clicking sound, and came apart. He held the box just over the granite and pulled the cover away as if he were putting an egg in a frying pan. Two equally black boxes sat side by side, seeming as if they would suck the light from the room.

“Remarkable.” Rahl breathed. “And you know every part of the book this well?”

“Every word.” Richard glared. “What I have told you will be of no aid in removing the third cover, however. They each come off differently.”

Rahl gave a little wave of his hand. “No matter. I will get it off.” He held an elbow in one hand and touched a finger of the other to his chin, absorbed in thought. “You are free to go.”

Richard frowned. “What do you mean, I am free to go? Aren’t you going to try to get the book out of me? Kill me?”

Rahl shrugged. “It would do me no good. The ways I have of getting information from you would damage your brain. The information would be disjointed. If it were anything else, I would be able to put the pieces together, and figure it out, but I can see the book is too specific for that. The information would only end up being spoiled, and of no use to me. You, therefore, are of no use to me right now, so you may go.”

Richard was worried. There was something more to this. “Just like that? I may go? You must know I will try to stop you.”

Rahl licked his fingers. His eyes came up. “I’m not worried about anything you could do. But you must be back here in one week, when I open the boxes, if you care at all what happens to everyone.”

Richard narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean, if I care what happens to everyone?”

“In one week, on the first day of winter, I’m going to open one of the boxes. I have been able to learn, from sources other than the Book of Counted Shadows, the same sources that told me how I might remove the cover, how to tell which box it is that would kill me. Beyond that, I will have to guess. If I open the right one, I will rule unchallenged. If I open the other, the world will be destroyed.”

“You would let that happen?”

Darken Rahl’s eyebrows lifted as he leaned toward Richard. “One world, or no world. That is the way it shall be.”

“I don’t believe you. You don’t know which box will destroy you.”

“Even if I were lying, I would still have two chances in three of having my way. You would have only one in three of it working out in your favor. Not good odds, for you. But, I’m not lying. Either the world is destroyed, or I rule it. You must decide which you would rather have happen. If you don’t help me, and I open the wrong box, I will be destroyed, along with everyone else, including those you care for. If you don’t help me, and I open the one I want, then I will turn Kahlan over to Constance, for training. A good long training. You will watch the whole thing before I kill you. Then Kahlan will bear me a son, an heir. A son who will be a Confessor.”

Richard went cold with pain worse than any Denna had given him. “You are trying to make me an offer of some sort?”

Rahl nodded. “If you come back in time, and help me, you will be permitted to go about your life. I will let you be.”

“What about Kahlan?”

“She will live here, in the People’s Palace, and be treated like a queen. She will have every comfort any woman could have—the kind of life a Confessor is used to. Something you could never provide her. She will live a life of peace and safety, and she will bear me the Confessor son I wish. Either way, she will bear me a son. That is my choice. Your choice is how: as Constance’s pet, or as a queen. So you see? I think you will be back. And if I am wrong . . .” He shrugged. “One world, or no world.”

Richard could hardly breathe. “I don’t think you know which box will destroy you.”

“You will have to decide what you will believe. I feel no need to convince you.” His expression darkened. “Choose wisely, my young friend. You may not like the choices I have given you, but you will like the results of not helping me even less. Not all choices in life are ones you would like, but those are all that are presented to you. Sometimes you must choose what is better for the ones you love than yourself.”

“I still don’t think you know which box will kill you,” Richard whispered.

“Think what you will, but ask yourself if you are willing to bet Kahlan’s future with Constance on what you think. Even if you were right, it still gives you only one chance in three.”

Richard felt empty, devastated. “Am I free to go now?”

“Well, there are a few other matters you may want to know about.”

Richard felt himself abruptly paralyzed, as if invisible hands were gripping him. He couldn’t move a muscle. Darken Rahl reached into Richard’s pocket and took out the leather pouch with the night stone. Richard fought against the force that held him, but could not move. Rahl dumped the night stone in his hand. He held it up in his palm, smiling.

Shadow things began to materialize. They gathered around Rahl, their numbers growing. Richard wished he could back away, but he couldn’t move.

“Time to go home, my friends.”

The shadows began swirling around Rahl, faster and faster, until they were a blur of gray. A howl rose as they were sucked into the night stone in a whirl of shadows and shapes. Silence. They were gone. The night stone turned to ash in Rahl’s palm. He blew on it and the ash puffed into the air.

“The Old One has been checking on you, using the night stone to find where you are. The next time he searches, he is going to have a very unpleasant experience. He is going to find himself in the underworld.”

Richard was furious at what Darken Rahl was doing to Zedd, and he was furious that he couldn’t move, that he was helpless and could only watch.

Richard relaxed his mind, shed the effort of trying to move, and replaced it with calm. He let his mind be empty, let himself be soft, limp. The force melted away. He took a step forward, free of the grip that had held him.

Rahl smiled warmly. “Very good, my boy. You know how to break a wizard’s web, at least a little one. But very good nonetheless. The Old One chooses his Seekers well.” He nodded.

“But you are more than a Seeker. You have the gift. I look forward to the day we will be on the same side. I will enjoy having you around. The ones I have to deal with are very limited. After the world is joined, I will teach you more, if you wish.”

“We will never be on the same side. Never.”

“That is your choice, Richard. I bear no ill will toward you. I hope we will become friends.” Rahl studied Richard’s face. “There is one more thing. You may stay in the People’s Palace, or you may leave if you wish. My guards will accommodate you. You will, however, have a wizard’s web around you. Unlike the one you just broke, it will not affect you—but those who see you, and therefore you will not be able to break it. It’s called an enemy web. All will see you as their enemy. That means that when your allies see you, they will see an enemy. Those who honor me will see you as yourself, since you are my enemy, for the time being, and therefore already their enemy. At least for now. But those who are your friends will see you as the person they fear most, their worst enemy. I would like you to see the way people think of me, see the world through my eyes, see how unjustly I am regarded.”

Richard didn’t have to try to hold back the anger—there was none. He felt an odd sort of peace. “Am I free to go now?”

“Of course, my boy.”

“What about Mistress Denna?”

“Once you leave this room, you will be back under her power. She still controls the magic of your sword. Once a Mord-Sith has your magic, it is hers to keep. I cannot take it from her to give it back to you. You must get it back yourself.”

“Then how am I free to leave?”

“Isn’t it obvious? If you want to leave, you must kill her.”

“Kill her!” Richard was stunned. “Don’t you think if I could kill her, I would have done so by now? Do you think I would have endured what she has done to me if I could have killed her?”

Darken Rahl smiled a little smile. “You have always been able to kill her.”

“How?”

“There is nothing that exists that has only one side. Even a piece of paper, thin as it is, has two sides. Magic is not one dimensional either. You have been looking at only one side of it—most people do. Look at the whole.” He pointed at the bodies of his two guards. The guards Richard had killed. “She controls your magic, yet you did this.”

“But that’s different, it won’t work against her.”

Rahl nodded. “Yes, it will. But you must be its master—half measures will get you in a lot of trouble. She controls you with one dimension of your magic, the side you offered her. You must use the other side. It is something all Seekers have been capable of, but none has ever succeeded in mastering. Perhaps you will be the first.”

“And if I’m not? If I don’t succeed at it?” Darken Rahl was sounding altogether too much like Zedd for Richard’s comfort. This was the way Zedd had always taught him—by making him think for himself, find the answers in his own way, with his own mind.

“Then, my young friend, you are going to be in for a very rough week. Denna is not pleased at how you embarrassed her. At the end of the week, she will bring you to me, and you will tell me your decision—to help, or to let all your friends suffer and die.”

“Just tell me how to use the magic of the sword, how to master it.”

“Of course. Right after you tell me the knowledge in the Book of Counted Shadows.” Rahl smiled. “I didn’t think so. Good night, Richard. Don’t forget, one week.”

The sun was fading as Richard left the garden and Darken Rahl. His mind was spinning with all the things he had learned. That Darken Rahl knew which box would kill him was troublesome, but he reasoned that Rahl might be using the Wizard’s First Rule on him. Worse was that one of his own had betrayed him. He liked that not one bit. What he liked less was that he knew who it had to be. Shota had told him that Zedd and Kahlan would use their power against him. It had to be Zedd or Kahlan. He couldn’t make that fit, no matter how he tried, no matter how he reasoned it out. It couldn’t be either, yet it had to be one. He loved them both more than his need to live. Zedd had told him he had to be prepared to kill any of them if they jeopardized winning, even if he thought there was only a chance that they did. He forced the thought out of his mind.

He had to think of a way to get away from Denna. He could be of no help, and none of the rest of it mattered if he couldn’t get away from Denna. It would do him no good to think of the other problems if he couldn’t get away, and if he didn’t figure it out soon, then Denna was going to hurt him, and he wouldn’t be able to think anymore. The things she did to him made it too hard to think, made him forget things. He had to concentrate on that problem first, and worry about the others later.

The sword, he thought Denna controlled the magic of the sword. He didn’t need the sword—maybe he could just get rid of it, get rid of the magic she controlled. He reached for the hilt, but the pain of the magic stopped him before he could even touch it.

He walked on through the halls, toward Denna’s quarters. It was still a long way. Maybe he could simply go another way, leave the People’s Palace. Darken Rahl had told him none of the guards would stop him. When the next intersection of halls came, he started to turn down one. The pain dropped him to his knees. With great effort, he managed to get back to the hall he was supposed to be in. He had to stop and rest, the pain having taken his breath away.

Close, just ahead, the way he was going, the bell for the evening devotion rang. He would go to the devotion—that would give him time to think. He knelt, relieved that the pain of the magic didn’t come on. It was one of the squares with water. He liked them best—they were the most peaceful. Close to the edge of the water, with people all about, Richard put his head to the tile floor and began chanting, clearing his mind, letting himself go empty. He used the chanting to melt his worries, his fears, his concerns. He put his thoughts of all the problems away, let his mind seek peace, let it wander where it would. The devotion was over, it seemed, in no time. He stood—refreshed, renewed, and started off again toward Denna’s quarters.

The halls he passed through, the rooms and stairways, were breathtakingly beautiful, and Richard again marveled at them as he passed. He wondered at how someone as vile as Darken Rahl would care to surround himself with such loveliness.

Nothing was one-dimensional. Two sides to the magic.

Richard thought about the times the strange power had come awake in him. When he had felt sorry for Princess Violet, when the Queen’s guard had tried to harm Denna, when he had felt the pain of what had been done to Denna, when he thought of Rahl hurting Kahlan, when Rahl’s guards had tried to hurt Denna. He remembered that each time it had made part of his vision turn white.

Each time, he knew, it was the magic of the sword. But in the past the magic of the sword had been rage, too. Yet this was a different kind of rage. He thought of how he used to feel when he drew the sword in anger. The wrath, the fury, the want to kill.

The hate.

Richard stopped dead still in the center of the quiet hall. It was late and there were no people around. He was alone. He felt a wave of cold wash through him, prickling his skin.

Two sides. He understood.

The spirits help him, he understood.

He brought it forth, let it cast everything in a white sheen.

Cradled numbly in the white haze of the magic, pearly in a trance, Richard pushed the door to Denna’s quarters closed behind himself. He calmly held the power, held the whiteness of it, held the joy and the sorrow of it. The quiet room was lit by one lamp on the bedside table, giving the softly scented air a warm, flickering glow. Denna sat completely naked in the center of the bed. Her legs were crossed, her braid undone, and her hair brushed out. The Agiel was on a gold chain around her neck, hanging between her breasts. Her hands lay nested in her lap. She watched him with big, wistful eyes.

“You have come to kill me, my love?” she whispered.

He nodded slowly, watching her. “Yes, Mistress.”

She smiled a little. “That is the first time you have ever called me simply ‘Mistress.’ You have always called me Mistress Denna, in the past. It means something?”

“Yes. It means everything, my mate. It means I forgive you everything.”

“I have made myself ready.”

“Why are you naked?”

The lamplight reflected in the wetness of her eyes. “Because everything I have to wear is Mord-Sith. I have nothing else. I did not wish to die in the clothes of a Mord-Sith. I wish to die as I was born. Denna. Nothing more.”

“I understand,” he whispered. “How did you know I was coming to kill you?”

“When Master Rahl chose me to go after you, he said he wouldn’t order me to go, but that I must volunteer. He said the prophecies foretold of a Seeker who would be the first to master the magic of the sword: the white magic. That this one would cause the blade of the sword to turn white. He said that if you turned out to be the one of whom the prophecies spoke, it would mean that I was to die by your hand, if you so chose. I asked to be sent, to be your Mord-Sith. Some of the things I have done to you, I have done to no other, in the hope you would be the one and kill me for it. When you did what you did to the Princess, I suspected. When you killed the two guards today, I knew. You should not have been able to. I was holding you by the sword’s magic at the time.”

Everything was white around the childlike beauty of her face. “I’m so sorry, Denna,” he whispered.

“You will remember me?”

“I will have nightmares the rest of my life.”

Her smile widened. “I’m glad.” She seemed genuinely proud. “You love this woman, Kahlan?”

He frowned a little. “How do you know that?”

“Sometimes, when I hurt men enough, and they don’t know what they’re saying, they cry for their mothers, or their wives. You cried for one named Kahlan. You will choose her for your mate?”

“I cannot,” he said past the lump in his throat. “She is a Confessor. Her power would destroy me.”

“I’m sorry. This hurts you?”

He nodded slowly. “More than anything you have done to me.”

“Good.” Denna smiled sadly. “I’m glad the one you love is able to give you more pain than was I.” Richard knew that in her twisted way, Denna meant this as a comfort to him—that for her to be happy that he would get more pain from another was a giving of her love. He knew that Denna sometimes gave him pain to show that she cared for him. In her eyes, at least, if this other woman could give him more pain, that was a demonstration of love.

A tear ran down his face. What had they done to this poor child?

“It is a different kind of pain. None could be your equal in the things you have done.”

A tear of pride rolled down her cheek. “Thank you, my love,” she breathed. She took the Agiel from her neck and held it up hopefully. “Would you wear this, to remember me by? It will not hurt you around your neck, or if you hold the chain, only if you hold the Agiel itself in your hand.”

Richard held her face in the white glow. “It would be my honor, my mate.” He bent, letting her put it over his head, letting her give his cheek a kiss.

“How will you do it?” she asked.

He knew what she meant. He swallowed back the lump in his throat. His hand went smoothly to the hilt of the sword.

Slowly, he drew the Sword of Truth. It didn’t ring, the way it always had in the past.

It hissed. A white-hot hiss.

Richard didn’t look, but he knew, knew the blade had turned white. He held her wet eyes. The power flooded through him. He was at peace. All anger, all hate, all malice, was gone. Where he had felt these things from the sword before, he now felt only love for this child, this vessel into whom others had poured pain, this receptacle of cruelty, this innocent, tortured soul, who had been trained to do the things she hated above all else: hurting others. His empathy with her made him ache with sorrow for her—with love for her.

“Denna,” he whispered. “You could just let me go—there is no need to do this. Please. Let me go. Don’t make me have to do this.”

She held her chin up. “If you try to leave, I will stop you with the pain of the magic, and make you sorry you have been trouble to me. I am Mord-Sith. I am your mistress. I can be no more than who I am. You can be no less, my mate.”

He nodded sadly, and put the tip of the sword between her breasts, the tears in his eyes and the white glow making it difficult to see.

Denna gently took the tip of the sword and moved it up a few inches. “My heart is here, my love.”

Holding the sword against her, he bent and put his left arm tenderly around her soft shoulders. He held the power with all his strength as he kissed her cheek.

“Richard,” she whispered, “I have never had a mate like you before. I’m glad I will have no other. You are a very rare person. You are the only person since I was chosen who has cared that I was in pain, or done anything to stop it. Thank you for last night, for teaching me what it could be like.”

Tears dripped from his face. He held her close. “Forgive me, my love.”

She smiled. “Everything. Thank you for calling me ‘my love.’ It is good to hear it once in truth before I die. Twist the sword, to be sure it is finished. And Richard, please, take my last breath? As I have taught you? I wish you to have my last breath of life.”

In a daze, he put his mouth over hers, kissing her, and didn’t even feel his right hand moving. There was no resistance. The sword went through her as if she were gossamer. He felt his hand twist the sword, and he took her last breath of life.

He laid her gently back on the bed, lay down next to her, and cried uncontrollably as he stroked her ashen face.

He grieved to undo what he had done.