Confessor (31 page)

“I don’t know. He’s just…Richard. He’s a man who cares deeply for those he loves.”

“From what you told Jagang you seem to know how he feels about a great many things. You seem to be there at his side a lot. It sounds like he cares a great deal for you.”

Nicci dismissed the suggestion with a flick of a hand. She looked over at Kahlan.

“There are regular soldiers outside Jagang’s tent. Do you know why?”

The abrupt change of topic told Kahlan that she was probing into things Nicci didn’t want to talk about. Kahlan wondered why not.

She turned her attention to Nicci’s question. “The soldiers
are there because they can see me. Very few people can. Sister Ulicia told Jagang that she thinks it’s just an anomaly. After I killed two of his guards and Sister Cecilia—”

Her expression intense, Nicci lifted her head a little. “You killed Sister Cecilia?”

“Yes.”

“How did you manage to kill a Sister of the Dark?”

“It was back in Caska, the place where you and Richard saw Jillian.”

“Who told you that?”

“Jillian.”

Nicci’s head sank back down. “Oh.”

“Jillian said she helped Richard find the
Chainfire
book he was hunting for down in the catacombs of Caska. That’s also where Jagang finally captured Sisters Ulicia, Armina, and Cecilia. They thought they were going to meet up with Sister Tovi when they got there. As it turned out, Tovi was already dead and it was Jagang who was there waiting for them. They were pretty surprised.”

“I bet they were,” Nicci said.

“Like just about everyone else, Jagang’s guards couldn’t see me, so while the dream walker was busy with the Sisters, arguing over a book, I pulled the guards’ knives out of their sheaths. Since they couldn’t see me, they had no idea the danger they were in. As they stood silently watching over their emperor I used their own weapons to run them through.

“Before they even hit the floor I pushed Jillian out ahead of me into the maze of tunnels. As everyone came rushing out the doorway behind us I threw a knife. I’d been hoping to get Jagang with the knife but it was Sister Cecilia who came through the doorway first. They caught me after that, but it had been enough to help Jillian escape.”

Kahlan let out a heavy sigh. “In the end it didn’t do any
good. Jagang returned to the encampment with the other two Sisters and me, but he sent men to search for Jillian. They finally found her and brought her back.

“She is Jagang’s way of making me comply with his wishes. He promised me that if I make him angry by not doing as I’m told he will do terrible things to her.”

“He is a ruthless man.”

Kahlan nodded. “After what I did, though, Jagang realized that he needed some guards who could see me, so he searched the camp looking for men who could. He found a number of them. There are thirty-eight left.”

Nicci glanced over at Kahlan. “You mean there were more at first?”

“Yes.”

“Then what happened to the rest?”

Kahlan stared resolutely into Nicci’s eyes. “Whenever I get the chance I kill them.”

Nicci smiled broadly. “Good girl.”

Kahlan smiled with her, but then the smile faded. “Now, if I kill any more, it will mean torture for Jillian.”

Nicci’s expression reflected her concern for Jillian. “Don’t ever doubt him. He will do it without hesitation.”

“I know. Do you have any idea why there are a few people who can see me when almost no one can? Do you know if it’s really an anomaly, as Sister Ulicia says?”

“The Sisters used a Chainfire spell on you. It made everyone forget you. Richard discovered that there is a defect in the spell and it—”

“See what I mean? Richard again, tied up in my life.” She shook her head. “Sometimes I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not.” When Nicci said nothing, she urged her to go on. “So, how did he ever discover the defect?”

“It’s a long story. Basically, we were trying to find a way to undo the Chainfire spell.”

“You were trying to help me? But you said you don’t remember me. Why would you be doing such a thing if no one remembers me?”

When Nicci had to lie back, laboring to breathe, Kahlan said, “Sorry. I know I ask a lot of questions, it’s just that…”

“We’re trying to stop the damage being done to everyone,” Nicci finally managed after enduring a shiver of pain. “The whole problem is broader than people only forgetting you. The Chainfire spell has tangled us all up in it. If it runs free it could even end life itself.”

Kahlan silently reprimanded herself for even fantasizing that Richard Rahl had actually been trying to save her, that maybe he knew her and she meant something to him.

“I was running a verification web,” Nicci said. “Richard saw indications in the spell—unique designs—that told him that it was contaminated. It explained a lot. We need to undo the Chainfire spell because, while it does make everyone forget you, it causes larger problems.”

“What kind of larger problems?”

Nicci paused to draw a few rattling breaths, wincing in pain, before going on. “Since it’s contaminated, the damaging effects of the spell expanded in unexpected ways. We fear that, unchecked, it will destroy the minds of those it has infected. I think that the contamination may be responsible for the spell not working as intended. As a result, there are a few isolated instances of people who apparently aren’t affected.”

“Why am I at the center of all of this?”

In the silence Kahlan could hear an oil lamp hissing softly. The sounds of the camp outside the tent seemed like they were in another world altogether.

“The Sisters used the spell on you so they could send you into the palace, unseen, to steal the boxes of Orden for them. The key to the boxes is a book called
The Book of
Counted Shadows.
They need a Confessor to confirm if the book they are using is the true key to the boxes.”

“I’ve seen the book,” Kahlan said. She knew that Nicci was telling the truth about that much of it, because Jagang had already demanded that Kahlan confirm if the book was a true copy or a fake. She had proclaimed it a false copy.

She knew that there also had to be more to it, but for some reason Nicci was carefully dancing around secrets.

Kahlan pulled at a string on the bedcover. “I wish I could talk to Richard Rahl. I wonder if he might have answers for me.”

“I wish you could meet him. But that now seems unlikely to ever happen.”

Kahlan wanted to ask if it had actually been likely until recent events. She thought that maybe Nicci had just revealed more than she thought she had, or had intended.

“I hate to say it, but I think that you and I are not ever going to be able to see the outcome of this struggle, but do you really think that Richard Rahl is going to be able to stop this madness? For other people, I mean.”

“I don’t know, Kahlan. But I can tell you that he’s the only one who can.”

Kahlan took up Nicci’s hand again. “Well, if he can, I hope he can rescue you. You should be with him. You love him.”

Nicci squeezed her eyes closed. She turned her face away as a tear leaked out, tracing a slow path through the splotches of dried blood.

“I’m sorry,” Kahlan said. “I shouldn’t have said anything. You must miss him beyond endurance.”

“No,” Nicci managed as she rocked her head, “it isn’t that. It’s just that what Jagang did hurts, that’s all. I’m having trouble breathing. I think my ribs are broken.”

“They are,” Kahlan said. “Some of the ones on this side,
anyway. I heard them crack when he punched you there. If I’d had a knife I’d have castrated the bastard.”

Nicci smiled. “I believe you could do it, Kahlan Amnell. It’s too late for me, but if you get the chance, do it before he starts in on you.”

“Nicci, don’t give up hope.”

“There’s not much cause for hope.”

“Yes, there is. As long as there’s life, there’s the potential that we can change things for the better. After all, didn’t you or Richard put the boxes of Orden in play?”

“I did,” Nicci said. “In Richard’s name.”

“What are these boxes, anyway? Why is there a magic power that is just meant to be able to, to, I don’t know, vanquish all opposition and rule the world?”

“That’s not their intended purpose. They were created as a counter to the Chainfire spell.”

Kahlan realized, then, that Richard Rahl must have been trying to help her. Even if he was now trying to save others from the effects of the spell, he hadn’t discovered the defect that was causing that damage to other people until after he was already trying to figure out how he could restore Kahlan’s memory.

Having difficulty breathing, Nicci fell to a fit of coughing that was obviously agonizingly painful. She started gasping for air. Kahlan could hear the rattle of fluid in her lungs. Nicci was beginning to panic with the unsuccessful effort to breathe. She gripped the bedcover in her fists and her back arched as she tried desperately to pull a breath.

Kahlan quickly pulled the bedcover down a ways and placed a hand directly on Nicci’s upper abdomen. “Nicci, listen to me. Breathe to my hand. Slowly.”

Nicci’s confused eyes sought Kahlan’s but she couldn’t speak through her gasping attempts to get a breath. Tears began to flow.

Kahlan gently rubbed her hand around in a small circle, speaking as calmly as she could. “Slow down, Nicci. Focus your mind on my hand. Feel where it is. Pull your breath slowly and evenly toward it. You’re going to be fine. You’re trying to breathe too fast, that’s all.

“You’re not alone. Everything is all right. I promise. Take slow breaths and you’ll be able to breathe just fine. Let them reach down toward where you feel my hand.”

Kahlan could feel Nicci’s heart galloping under her hand. She continued to rub slowly and talk in a reassuring voice.

“Everything is fine. You can get plenty of air if you just let yourself slow down and take it in.”

Nicci watched Kahlan as if hanging on her every word.

“You’re doing good. You’re all right. I won’t let you die. Just think about my hand. Let your breath reach down to my hand. Slower. Slower. That’s it, easy…easy. That’s it. You’re doing good. Just think about my hand and keep breathing slowly.”

Nicci’s breathing slowed. She seemed like she was at last getting the air she so desperately needed. Kahlan continued to gently rub Nicci’s abdomen just below her ribs and to urge her to slow down. The whole time Nicci tightly held Kahlan’s other hand. After a short time the crisis passed and Nicci was more comfortably getting her breath. She needed more help, though, than Kahlan could offer her. She wished that a Sister would arrive.

“Look, Nicci, we may not get a chance to talk again, but don’t give up. There’s a man here who I think is going to do something.”

Nicci swallowed as she regained her equilibrium. “What are you talking about? What sort of man?”

“He’s a Ja’La player. He’s the point man on a team belonging to Commander Karg.”

“Karg,” she said with disgust. “I know him. The things
he does to women are more vile in their invention than Jagang. Karg is a twisted bastard. Stay away from him.”

Kahlan arched an eyebrow. “You’re saying that at the next gala ball if he asks me to dance I should decline the offer?”

Nicci smiled a little. “That would be best.”

“Anyway, there’s something about this point man for Commander Karg’s team. He knows me. I can see it in his eyes. You should see him play Ja’La.”

“I hate Ja’La.”

“That’s not what I mean. This man is different. He’s…dangerous.”

Nicci frowned over at Kahlan. “Dangerous? In what way?”

“I think he’s up to something.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t want anyone in the camp to recognize him.”

“How in the world would you know that?”

“It’s a long story, but he found a way around anyone recognizing him. He painted his face in wild designs—with red paint—along with the faces of all the men on his team.” Kahlan leaned closer. “Maybe he’s an assassin or something. It could be that he’s intending to kill Jagang.”

Nicci closed her eyes again, losing interest. “I wouldn’t get my hopes up about such a thing if I were you.”

“You would if you saw this man’s eyes.”

Kahlan wanted to ask Nicci a thousand questions, but she heard voices beyond the doorway coming closer. Then she heard a woman outside dismiss a slave.

“I think the Sister is coming.” Kahlan squeezed Nicci’s hand. “Be strong.”

“I don’t think—”

“Be strong for Richard.”

Nicci stared, unable to speak.

Kahlan hurriedly scooted away from the bed. The covering over the doorway opened and Sister Armina stepped through, pulling Jillian in behind her.

“Well, what do you expect me to do?” Verna asked as they marched past a smoking torch in an iron bracket. “Pull Nicci out of thin air?”

“I expect you to find out where she and Ann went,” Cara said. “That’s what I expect.”

Despite the Mord-Sith’s innuendo, Verna wanted to find Nicci and Ann as much as Cara did. She just wasn’t as vocal about it.

The red leather outfit Cara wore stood out like blood against the virtuous white of the marble walls. The Mord-Sith’s mood, which seemed to match the color of her outfit, had only gotten worse as the day had worn on and the search had turned up nothing. Several other Mord-Sith followed some distance back, along with a contingent of the First File—the Palace Guard. Adie was not far behind while Nathan was out by himself in the lead.

Verna understood Cara’s feelings, and in an odd way was cheered by them. Nicci was more than Cara’s charge, more than a woman Richard had wanted Cara to protect. Nicci was Cara’s friend. Not that she would openly admit as much, but it was clear enough by her smoldering rage. Nicci, like Cara herself, had long been someone lost to a
dark purpose. They had both come back from that terrible place because Richard had given them not only the chance to change, but a reason to.

It wasn’t so much when a Mord-Sith shouted and yelled that alarmed Verna, it was when their questions became quiet and terse. That was what lifted the hackles on the back of her neck—when it was clear that they meant business, and the business of Mord-Sith was not at all pleasant. It was best not to find yourself in the way of a Mord-Sith when she meant to have answers. Verna only wished that she had them.

She understood Cara’s frustration. She felt no less anxious and bewildered at what could have happened to Nicci and Ann. She knew, though, that repeating the same questions and insisting on answers would not produce those answers any more than it would produce the two missing women. She supposed that Mord-Sith fell back on their training when there seemed no other solution.

Cara stopped, hands on hips, and looked back down the marble hallway. Behind them a few hundred men of the First File slowed to a halt so that they wouldn’t overrun those in the lead. The echo of boots on stone slowly dwindled to a whisper. Several of the soldiers had crossbows with red fletched arrows at the ready. Those arrows made Verna sweat. She almost wished that Nathan had never found them. Almost.

The seemingly endless maze of halls behind the heavily armed soldiers was empty and silent but for the hissing torches. Cara frowned in thought for a moment, then started out once again. This was the fourth time since Ann and Nicci had disappeared the night before that they had been down in the halls that led to the tombs. Verna couldn’t begin to imagine what the Mord-Sith could be trying to figure out. Empty passageways were empty passageways. The two missing women were hardly likely to pop out of the marble walls.

“They had to have gone somewhere else,” Verna finally said, even though no one had seen them.

Cara turned back. “Like where?”

Verna lifted her arms and finally let them flop back down to her sides. “I don’t know.”

“It be a big palace,” Adie said. The torchlight lent the sorceress’s completely white eyes a disturbing, translucent quality.

Verna gestured down the silent passageway. “Cara, we’ve spent hours going up and down these halls and it’s just as obvious now as it was the last time we were down here—or the first time for that matter—that they are empty. Nicci and Ann have to be somewhere up in the palace. We’re wasting our time down here. I agree that we need to find them, but we need to look elsewhere.”

Cara’s eyes looked like blue fire. “They were down here.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’re right. But
were
is the word in what you said that matters. Do you see any trace of them? I don’t. You’re no doubt correct that they were down here. It’s obvious, though, that they’ve since gone elsewhere.” Verna sighed impatiently. “We’re wasting valuable time marching up and down empty halls.”

As everyone waited where they stood, Cara paced up the hallway a short distance. When she returned she again planted her fists on her hips.

“There’s something wrong down here.”

Nathan, out by himself in the lead and keeping his own counsel, stared back at them, for the first time curious. “Wrong? What do you mean…wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Cara admitted. “I can’t put my finger on it but there’s something down here that doesn’t feel right to me.”

Verna spread her hands, searching for understanding. “You mean some kind of…essence of magic, or something?”

“No,” Cara said, waving off the very notion. “I don’t mean anything like that.” She returned the hand to her red-leather-clad hip. “It’s just that it seems like something is wrong—I don’t know what, but something.”

Verna glanced about. “Do you think something is missing?” She gestured ahead, up the empty passageway. “Decorations, furnishings, something of that nature?”

“No. As I recall there never was any decorations down in most of these halls. But I haven’t been down here to the tombs much—no one has.

“Darken Rahl would visit his father’s tomb from time to time, but as far as I know he didn’t have any interest in visiting the others. The area down here with the tombs is private and he made it off-limits. When he went to his father’s tomb he usually took his bodyguards, not Mord-Sith, so I’m just not all that familiar with the place.”

“Maybe that’s all it is,” Verna suggested, “an uneasy feeling brought on by unfamiliarity.”

“I suppose that could be it,” Cara said, her mouth twisting with annoyance at having to admit it was a possibility.

Everyone stood silently, considering what they should do next, if anything. It was always possible, after all, that the two missing women could show up at any moment and wonder what all the fuss was about.

“You said Ann and Nicci had wanted to be alone to have a private conversation,” Adie said. “Perhaps they went off somewhere private.”

“All night?” Verna asked. “I can’t imagine that. The two of them didn’t have much in common. They weren’t friends. Dear Creator, I don’t think they even liked each other all that much. I can’t imagine them chatting the night away.”

“Me neither,” Cara said.

Verna looked up at the prophet. “Do you have any idea what Ann might have wanted to talk to Nicci about?”

Nathan’s long white hair brushed his shoulders when he shook his head. “Ann naturally took a dim view of Nicci, considering that she turned to the Sisters of the Dark. I know that always bothered her—and not without sound reason. It was more than a betrayal of the cause of the Light; it was a personal betrayal and a betrayal of the palace. Ann might have wanted to get Nicci alone so she could counsel her about coming back to the Creator.”

“That would have been a brief conversation,” Cara said.

“I suppose so,” Nathan admitted. He scratched the bridge of his nose as he considered. “Well, knowing Ann, it very well might be something about Richard.”

Cara’s blue eyes narrowed as they turned up toward the prophet. “What about Richard?”

Nathan shrugged. “I don’t know for certain.”

Cara’s brow tightened. “I didn’t say that it had to be for certain.”

Nathan looked somewhat reluctant to speak of it, but he finally did. “Ann sometimes mentioned how she thought that Nicci might be able to guide him.”

Verna joined Cara in frowning. “Guide him? Guide him how?”

“You know Ann.” Nathan smoothed the front of his white shirt. “She always thinks she needs to have a hand in guiding everything. She has often mentioned to me how uneasy it makes her to have so tenuous a connection to Richard.”

“Why does she think she needs a ‘connection’ to Lord Rahl?” Cara asked, ignoring the fact that it was now Nathan who was Lord Rahl and not Richard.

Verna couldn’t say that she was any more comfortable with the thought of Nathan being the Lord Rahl than was Cara.

“She has always thought she needed to control what Richard might do,” Nathan said. “She is always calculating
and planning. She has never liked leaving anything to chance.”

“True enough,” Verna said. “The woman always did have a network of spies to help her insure that the world was revolving properly. She had connections in the most far-flung places in order to exert influence toward what she saw as the cause of her life. She never liked leaving anything important to others, much less to chance.”

Nathan heaved a deep sigh. “Ann is a determined woman. She believes that Nicci—since renouncing the Sisters of the Dark—has no other choice, now, except to return her devotion to the cause of the Sisters of the Light.”

“What cause? Why does she think Nicci has to be devoted to the Sisters of the Light?” Cara asked.

Nathan leaned a little toward the Mord-Sith. “She thinks that us wizards need a Sister of the Light to guide our every thought and action. She has always believed that we should not be allowed to think for ourselves.”

Verna’s gaze wandered off down the empty passageway. “I guess that I used to believe much the same thing. But that was before Richard.”

“Keep in mind, though, that you’ve spent far more time with Richard than Ann ever did.” Nathan shook his head sadly. “While she had to have come to much the same understanding about Richard needing to act on his own as most of us agree he must, she seems lately to be reverting to her old ways, her old beliefs. I’m not sure that the Chainfire spell hasn’t wiped away those changes in Ann, erased the things she had learned.”

Verna had suspected much the same. “We must let Ann speak for herself, but I think that it’s clear that the Chainfire spell is affecting us all. We know that, unchecked, it will likely continue to run rampant through our minds and very possibly destroy our ability to reason. The problem is,
none of us is aware of how we are changing. Each of us feels that we are the same as we’ve always been. I doubt that to be true. There is no telling how much any one of us has changed. Any of us could unwittingly lead our cause astray.”

“You can discuss all that with Ann when we find them,” Cara said, impatient to get back to the issue at hand. “They’re not down here. We need to spread our search.”

“Maybe they’re not done with what ever they had to talk about,” Nathan suggested. “Maybe Ann doesn’t want to be found until after she is finished with trying to convince Nicci of what she must do.”

“That sounds like a possibility,” Verna agreed.

Nathan fussed with the edge of his cape. “I wouldn’t put it past the woman to abscond with Nicci, intent on being alone with her so she can browbeat her into Ann’s way of thinking.”

Cara flicked a hand dismissively. “Nicci is devoted to helping Richard, not Ann. She wouldn’t go along and Ann couldn’t make her—Nicci can wield Subtractive Magic, after all.”

“I agree,” Verna said. “I can’t imagine the two of them just wandering off for this long without letting us know where they are.”

Adie turned to Verna. “Why not ask her where she be?”

Verna frowned at the old sorceress. “You mean use the journey book?”

Adie gave a single, firm nod. “Yes. Ask her.”

Verna was skeptical. “Being here in the palace it’s hardly likely that she would look in her journey book for a message from me.”

“Maybe she not be in the palace,” Adie said. “Perhaps the two of them had to leave for some sudden, important reason and she already sent you a message in the journey book.”

“How in the world could the two of them leave the palace?” Verna asked. “We’re surrounded by the army of the Imperial Order.”

Adie shrugged. “It not be impossible. I can see with my gift, not my eyes. It be dark last night. Maybe in the dark they had to slip away for some reason. Maybe it be important and they didn’t have time to tell us.”

“You could do that?” Cara asked. “You could go out in the dark and make it through the enemy?”

“Of course.”

Verna was already thumbing through her journey book. As she had expected, it was completely blank. “There is no message.” She tucked the small book back behind her belt. “I’ll try your suggestion, though, and write Ann a message. Perhaps she will look in her journey book and reply.”

With a flourish of his cape, Nathan once again started away. “Before we go off to look elsewhere I want to check the tomb again.”

“Post a guard up here,” Cara called back to the soldiers. “The rest of you come with us.”

Already some distance off down the hall, Nathan turned down a stairway. The rest of them all followed behind, their footsteps echoing as they hurried to catch up. Nathan, Cara, Adie, Verna, and the soldiers bringing up the rear all descended down to the next level.

The walls of the lower level were stone block, rather than marble. In places they were stained by centuries of water seeping through. The seepage left behind yellowish formations that made the stone look as if it were melting.

They soon enough arrived at stone that really had melted.

Nathan came to a halt before the opening to Panis Rahl’s tomb. The tall prophet, his face grim and drawn, stared past melted stone into the tomb. It was the fourth time he had returned to look into the tomb and this time it looked no different than on previous visits.

Verna was worried about the man. While he was worried and wanted to find answers, there was a kind of rage simmering just below the surface. She had never seen him like this before. The only person she could think of who had the same quality of quiet, bottled fury that could make her heart race was Richard. Such focused anger had to be, she thought, a Rahl quality.

What ever doors had once guarded the crypt had been replaced with a kind of white stone intended to seal the large tomb. It appeared to have been hastily constructed, but it hadn’t succeeded in halting the strange conditions overcoming Panis Rahl’s tomb.

Inside, fifty-seven cold torches rested in ornate gold brackets. Nathan cast out a hand, using magic to light several of them. As they burst into flame the walls of the crypt came alive with flickering light that reflected off the polished pink granite of the vaulted room. Beneath each of the torches was a vase meant to hold flowers. By the fifty-seven torches and vases, Verna guessed that Panis Rahl must have been fifty-seven when he died.