Temple of the Winds (62 page)

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Authors: Terry Goodkind

Tags: #Fiction, #Epic, #Fantasy

BOOK: Temple of the Winds
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What would the war wizards of old, who knew their gift well, have been able to do with such unfathomable magic? What terrors would a war among those with that kind of power have been like?

The very thought gave her shivers.

It would have been things like the plague that had been set upon them, now. They could do those kinds of things.

The lamplight fell across Kolo’s bones beside the chair. The pen and inkwell still sat on the dusty table. The round room, nearly sixty feet across, was capped with a high-domed ceiling, itself nearly as tall as the room was wide.

In the center was a round stone wall, like a well, twenty-five or thirty feet across. There dwelled the sliph. Kahlan held the light over the wall of the well, and glanced briefly down the smooth stone walls of the dark shaft that fell away seemingly forever.

The walls of the room were scorched in ragged lines as if lightning had gone wild in the place—another result of the same magic Richard had invoked when he destroyed the towers and when the doorway had been blasted open. Kahlan strode quickly around the room, checking to see if there was anything that might be useful. There was nothing in the room, other than the table, chair, and Kolo, except for a dusty set of shelves.

Kahlan was disappointed to find that there were no books on the shelves. There were three faded blue, glazed, lidded containers, probably once holding water or soup for the wizard on duty guarding the sliph. A white, glazed bowl held a silver spoon. A neatly folded cloth, or embroidery of some sort, sat on one of the shelves. When she touched it, it disintegrated into dust and little flakes where her fingers contacted it.

Kahlan bent lower, seeing that the bottom shelf held only a few spare candles and a lamp.

An abrupt sensation of icy alarm inundated her.

She was being watched.

She froze, holding her breath, telling herself that it was just her imagination. The fine hairs at the back of her neck stiffened. She felt a cold wave of gooseflesh run up her arms.

She strained to hear a telling sound. Her toes cringed inside her boots. She feared to move. Carefully, quietly, she let her lungs draw a needed breath.

Slowly, ever so slowly, so as not to make a sound, she straightened a little. She dared not move her feet lest the stone chips crunch.

Courage, as thin as eggshells, urged her to hide behind the wall of the sliph’s well. From there, she could determine if it was only her imagination spooking her. Perhaps it was just a rat.

She twisted to check the distance to the stone wall.

Kahlan sucked a cry as she flinched back.

CHAPTER 36

The quicksilver face of the sliph had risen above the edge of the stone wall and was watching her.

The glossy metallic female features of the sliph reflected the lamplight and the room in a living mirror. It was obvious why Kolo called the sliph “she.” The sliph was a silver statue. Except it moved with liquid grace.

Kahlan pressed a hand to her hammering heart as she panted, getting her breath. The sliph watched her, as if curious about what Kahlan might do next. Kolo often said in his journal that “she” was watching him.


Sliph …” Kahlan stammered. “What are you doing … awake?”

The face distorted into a puzzled frown. “Do you wish to travel?” The eerie voice echoed around the room. Her lips hadn’t moved as she spoke, but she smiled pleasantly.


Travel? No.” Kahlan took a step toward the well. “Sliph, Richard put you to sleep. I was here.”


Master. He woke me.”


Yes, Richard woke you. He traveled in you. He rescued me, and I traveled back with him … in you.”

Kahlan recalled that strange experience with a certain fondness. To travel in the sliph, you had to breathe her in. It was frightening at first, but with Richard there holding her hand, Kahlan had been able to do it, and had discovered the enthralling sensation of “traveling.”

To breathe the sliph was rapture.


I remember,” the sliph said. “Once you are in me, I remember.”


But don’t you remember Richard putting you to sleep again?”


He woke me from the sleep of ages, but he did not put me back into the long sleep. He put me at rest, until I was needed.”


But we thought—we thought you had gone back to sleep. Why are you not at … rest, now?”


I felt you near. I came to look.”

Kahlan stepped to the stone wall. “Sliph, has someone traveled in you since Richard and I last did?”


Yes. I was used.”

Suddenly realization broke through her surprise. “A man and a woman. They traveled in you, didn’t they?”

The sliph’s smile turned sly, but she didn’t answer.

Kahlan touched her fingers to the stone wall. “Who was it, sliph, who traveled in you?”


You should know that I never betray those I hold within me.”


I should know? How would I know?”


You have traveled in me. I would not reveal you. I never betray my clients. You traveled, so you must understand.”

Kahlan licked her lips patiently. “Sliph, I’m afraid that I don’t know anything about you, really. You are from a time before my time—from another age. I only know that you can travel, and that you helped me before. You were a valuable aid in defeating some very bad people.”


I am glad that you were pleased with me. Perhaps you would like to be pleased again? Would like to travel again?”

A shiver ran up Kahlan’s spine. This had to be why Marlin was trying to get to the Keep. He and Sister Amelia must have come to Aydindril from the Old World in the sliph. Jagang had said he had waited to reveal himself until she returned. How else could she have returned to him so fast, except in the sliph.

Kahlan swept out an imploring arm. “Sliph, some very evil people …”

She halted, sucking a breath through her open mouth. Her eyes widened.


Sliph,” she whispered, “you took me to the Old World before.”


Ah. I know the place. Come, we will travel.”


No, no, not there. Sliph, can you travel other places?”


Of course.”


Where?”


Many places. You must know. You have traveled. Name the place that would pleasure you, and we will travel.”

Kahlan leaned toward the alluring, smiling silver face.


The witch woman. Can you take me to the witch woman?”


I do not know this place.”


It’s not a place. It’s a person. She lives in the Rang’Shada mountains. In a place called Agaden Reach. Can you go there, to Agaden Reach?”


Ah. I have been there. Come, we will travel.”

Kahlan touched her trembling fingers to her lips.


Come, and we will travel,” the sliph said, her haunting voice echoing around the ancient stone walls. The sound died out slowly, letting silence settle once more, covering everything, like the veil of dust in the room.

Kahlan cleared her throat. “I have to go do something, first. Will you still be here when I get back? Will you wait for me?”


If I am at rest, you can let me know of your need, and we will travel. You will be pleased.”


You mean, if you’re not right here, I should call down to you, and you will come to me, and we will travel?”


Yes. We will travel.”

Kahlan rubbed her hands together as she backed away. “I’ll be back. I’ll be back soon, and we will travel.”


Yes,” the sliph said, watching Kahlan retreat, “we will travel.”

Kahlan snatched the lamp from where she had set it on the floor near the shelves. She paused at the door, looking back at the quicksilver face floating in the gloom.


I’ll be back. Soon. We will travel.”


Yes. We will travel,” the sliph said as Kahlan started running.

Kahlan had to struggle to think where she was going as she ran. Her mind spun with arguments. While she grappled with her alternatives, she also tried to pay attention as she turned down halls, raced through rooms, and dashed upstairs.

She seemed to reach Library Hall before she was ready. Huffing, she realized that she couldn’t run in on Cara and Berdine in such a state. They would know something was wrong.

Not far from the library where the two Mord-Sith waited, Kahlan collapsed onto a padded bench, letting the lamp slip to the floor. She leaned back against the wall and stretched out her aching legs. She fanned her face with one hand. She gulped air, and tried to convince her heart to slow down. She knew her face must be red as an apple.

She couldn’t walk in on the other two like this. Kahlan made plans as she rested, waiting for her heart to slow, her lungs to recover, her face to cool.

Shota knew something about the plague. Kahlan was sure of it. Shota had said about Richard, “May the spirits have mercy on his soul.”

Shota had sent Nadine to marry Richard. Kahlan vividly recollected Nadine’s tight dress, her flirtatious smiles at Richard, her accusations, telling Richard that Kahlan was heartless. The look in Nadine’s eyes when she talked to him.

Kahlan thought about what she must do. Shota was a witch woman. Everyone feared the witch woman. Even wizards feared Shota. Kahlan had never done anything against her, but that had never stopped Shota from hurting her.

Shota might kill her.

Not if Kahlan killed her first.

The distraction of making plans had allowed her to regain her composure. She stood, smoothed down her dress, and took a deep, settling breath.

Kahlan put on her Confessor’s face and strode through the doors to the library where the other two waited.

Cara and Berdine popped out from behind a row of bookshelves. The books were gone from the table.

Cara eyed Kahlan suspiciously. “You’ve been gone long enough.”


It took me a while to find a way with shields I could pass.”

Berdine came out from behind the shelves. “Well? Did you find anything?”


Find anything? Like what?”

Berdine spread her hands. “Books. You went to look for books.”


No. Nothing.”

Cara was frowning. “Did you have any problems?”


No. I’m just upset about all this … about everything. The plague and all. I’m upset that I couldn’t find anything to help. What about you two?”

Berdine swiped a stray strand of hair back from her face. “Nothing. Nothing about the Temple of the Winds or the team who sent it away.”


I don’t understand,” Kahlan said, mostly to herself. “If there was a trial, as Kolo said, then there should be a record of it.”


Well,” Berdine said, “we were looking through the other books to see if we missed any of the records of the trials. We didn’t find any. Where else can we look?”

Kahlan sagged in disappointment. She had been sure they would find a record of the trial for Richard.


Nowhere. If it isn’t here, then there must be no record of the trial, or else it was destroyed. From what Kolo said, the Keep was in an uproar at the time; they may have been too busy to keep a record.”

Berdine cocked her head. “But we’re going to keep looking for part of the night, at least.”

Kahlan looked about the library. “No. It would be a waste of time. The time would be better spent if you kept working on Kolo’s journal. If we don’t have the record of the trial, translating the journal would be the best help to Richard. Maybe you can find something important in the journal.”

In the brightness of the library, Kahlan’s resolve was beginning to falter. She began to reconsider her plan.


Well,” Cara said, “I guess we better get back, then. No telling what Nadine will be up to. If she gets into Lord Rahl’s room, she’ll get blisters kissing him while he’s asleep and helpless.”

Berdine pressed her lips tight and smacked Cara’s shoulder. “What’s the matter with you? The Mother Confessor is a sister of the Agiel.”

Cara blinked in surprise. “Forgive me. I was only making a joke.” She touched Kahlan’s arm. “You know that I will kill Nadine if you wish—you have but to ask. Don’t worry, Raina would not let Nadine into his room.”

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