Wizard's First Rule (75 page)

She could see the outline of the castle against the starry sky, the notched top edge of the wall, the towers with lights in them. She was never going back there again, never. Her and Giller were going to run away to where people were nice and they were never going to come back. While she was panting, she heard a voice.

“Rachel?” It was Sara, she realized.

She laid Sara in her lap, on top of the bundle. “We’re safe now, Sara. We got away.”

Sara smiled. “I’m so glad, Rachel.”

“We’re never going back to that mean place again.”

“Rachel, Giller wants you to know something.”

She had to lean close; she could hardly hear Sara’s voice. “What?”

“That he can’t come with you. You must go on without him.”

Rachel started to get tears. “But I want him to come with me.”

“He would like to, more than anything, child, but he must stay and keep them from finding you, so you can get away. It’s the only way to keep you safe.”

“But I’ll be afraid by myself.”

“You won’t be by yourself, Rachel, you will have me with you. Always.”

“But what am I to do? Where am I to go?”

“You must run away. Giller says not to go to your old wayward pine, they will find you there.” Rachel’s eyes got big when she heard this. “Go to a different wayward pine, then the next day, another, just keep running away and hiding until the winter comes. Then find some nice people who will take good care of you.”

“All right, if Giller says so, that’s what I’ll do.”

“Rachel, Giller wants you to know he loves you.”

“I love Giller too,” Rachel said, “more than anything.”

The doll smiled.

All at once, the woods lit up with blue and yellow light. She looked up. Then came a sudden loud bang that made her jump. Her mouth dropped open; her eyes were wide as they would go.

A giant ball of fire came up from the castle, from behind the walls.

The ball of fire lifted into the air. Sparks dropped from it, and black smoke rolled away. The fire turned to black smoke as it went higher, until it was all dark again.

“Did you see that?” she asked Sara.

Sara didn’t say anything.

“I hope Giller is all right.”

She looked down at the doll, but she didn’t say anything, or even smile back.

Rachel hugged Sara to her and picked up the bundle.

“We better get going, like Giller said.”

When she went past the lake, she threw the key to her sleeping box as far as she could, out into the water, and smiled when she heard it splash.

Sara didn’t say anything as they rushed away from the castle, down the path. Rachel remembered what Giller said, that she shouldn’t go to the same wayward pine. She turned and went down a deer trail, through the bramble, in a new direction.

West.

There was a sound. Small, soft, spitting.

In the fog of half sleep, half wake, it made no sense, no matter how hard he tried to understand it. Slowly at first, then with accelerating urgency, he came awake, aware of the aroma of cooking meat. Immediately, he regretted the experience of being conscious, the memories of what had happened, his longing for Kahlan. His knees were pulled up to his chest with his head resting against them. The bark of the tree at his back dug painfully into his flesh, and his muscles were cramped to near paralysis from sleeping in the same position all night. With his head against his knees he couldn’t see anything, except that it was only just beginning to lighten with dawn.

There was someone, or something, near him.

Continuing to feign sleep, he took assessment of where his hands were in relation to his weapons. The sword was a goodly reach, and then a long pull to draw it. The knife wasn’t. His fingertips were touching the hickory handle. Flexing his fingers slowly, carefully, he worked the handle into his palm, tightening his grip around it. Whatever it was was near to his left side. A spring and a thrust with the knife, he thought.

He took a careful peek. With a shock, he saw that it was Kahlan. She was sitting, leaning against the log, watching him. A rabbit was cooking on the fire. He sat up straight.

“What are you doing here?” he asked cautiously.

“Is it all right if we talk?”

Richard slid the knife back into its sheath, stretched his legs, rubbing the cramps from them. “I thought we did all our talking last night.” He immediately winced at his own words. She gave him an unreadable look. “I’m sorry,” he said, softening his tone. “Of course we can talk. What do you want to talk about?”

She shrugged in the dim light. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.” She had a length of birch branch that he had cut the night before for the fire, and was stripping off pieces of white bark. “Last night, after I left, well, I knew you had a headache…”

“How did you know that?”

She shrugged again. “I can always tell, by the look in your eyes, when you have a headache.” Her voice was soft, gentle. “I knew you hadn’t been getting much sleep lately, and that it was my fault, so I decided that before I… before I left, I would stand watch for you while you slept. So I went over there,” she pointed
with the branch, “in those trees, where I could keep my eye on you.” She looked down at the branch as she peeled off strips of bark. “I wanted to make sure you got some sleep.”

“You were there the whole night?” Richard was afraid to hope at what this meant.

She nodded, but didn’t look up. “While I was watching, I decided to make a snare, like you taught me, to see if I could catch you some breakfast. While I was sitting there, I did a lot of thinking. Mostly, I cried for a long time. I couldn’t stand it that you thought those things about me. It hurt that you thought of me like that. It made me angry too.”

Richard decided it was best not to say anything while she struggled to find the words. He didn’t know what to say, and was afraid if he said anything it might make her leave again. Kahlan pulled off a curl of birch bark and tossed it in the fire, where it sizzled and flared to flame.

“Then I thought about what you said, and I decided there were some things I needed to tell you, about how to conduct yourself when you are with the Queen. And then I remembered some things I needed to tell you about which roads to avoid, and about where you might go. I just keep thinking about things I needed to tell you, things you need to know. Before I knew it, I realized you were right. About everything.”

Richard thought she looked like she was near tears, but she didn’t cry. Instead, she picked at the branch with her fingernail, and avoided his eyes. Still he kept quiet. Then she asked him a question he wasn’t expecting.

“Do you think Shota is pretty?”

He smiled. “Yes. But not as pretty as you.”

Kahlan smiled and pushed some hair back over her shoulder. “Not many would dare to say that to a…” She caught herself again. Her secret stood between them like a third person. She started again. “There is an old women’s proverb, maybe you have heard it before. ‘Never let a beautiful woman pick your path for you when there is a man in her line of sight.’”

Richard laughed a little and stood to stretch his legs. “No, I’ve not heard that before.” He half leaned, half sat against the log, as he folded his arms. He didn’t think Kahlan needed to worry about Shota stealing his heart; Shota had said she would kill him if she ever saw him again. Even without Shota’s vow, Kahlan had no cause for worry.

She tossed the branch aside and stood next to him, leaning her hip against the log. She looked into his eyes at last, her eyebrows wrinkled together. “Richard”—her voice was low, almost a whisper—“last night I figured out I was being very stupid. I had been afraid the witch woman would kill me, and all of a sudden, I realized, she was about to succeed. Only I was doing it for her; letting her pick my path for me.

“You were right about it all. I should have known better than to disregard the things a Seeker says.” She looked back down at the ground before her green eyes came back up to his. “If… if it is not too late, I would like my job back, as your guide.”

Richard couldn’t believe it was over. He had never been this happy, this relieved,
in his life. Instead of answering, he reached out and pulled her into his arms, hugged her tight to him. Her arms slipped around him as she laid her head against his chest for a moment. Then she pushed away.

“Richard, there is one other matter. Before you can say you will take me back, you must hear the rest of it. I can’t go on anymore without telling you about me. About what I am. It’s cleaving my heart, because I’m supposed to be your friend. I should have told you from the beginning. I have never had a friend like you before. I didn’t want it to end.” Her gaze left his. “But now it must,” she added faintly.

“Kahlan, I’ve told you before; you’re my friend, and nothing can change that.”

“This secret can.” Her shoulders were slumped. “This is about magic.”

Richard wasn’t sure anymore that he wanted to hear her secret. He had just gotten her back; he didn’t want to lose her again. He squatted down in front of the fire, picking up the roasting stick with the rabbit. Sparks swirled up into the waning darkness. He felt proud of her, for catching the rabbit on her own, the way he had taught her.

“Kahlan, I don’t care what your secret is. I care about you, that’s all that matters. You don’t have to tell me. Come on, the rabbit is done, come and have some.”

Cutting off a piece with his knife, he handed it to her as she sat on the ground next to him, pulling her hair back off her face. The meat was hot, so she held it lightly with her fingertips, and blew to cool it. Richard cut a piece for himself and sat back.

“Richard, when you first saw Shota, did she really look like your mother?” He looked over to Kahlan’s face, lit by the fire, and nodded before he took a bite.

“Your mother was very pretty. You have her eyes, and her mouth.”

Richard smiled a little at the memory. “But it wasn’t really her.”

“So you felt angry that Shota was pretending to be someone she could not be? That she was deceiving you?” She took a bite of the rabbit, breathing in through her mouth because the meat was still hot. She watched him carefully. Richard shrugged, feeling the sting of sorrow. “I guess. It wasn’t fair.” Kahlan chewed a minute, and then swallowed. “That is why I must tell you who I am, even if you hate me for it, because you have been my friend. Although I have not been the kind of friend you deserve. That is the other reason I came back, because I didn’t want someone else to tell you. I wanted you to hear it from me. After I tell you, if you want me to I will leave.”

Richard looked up at the sky, at the color coming slowly to it. He suddenly wished Kahlan weren’t telling him what she was; he wished things could stay the way they were. “Don’t worry, I’m not sending you away. We have a job to do. Remember what Shota said? The Queen won’t have the box long; that can only mean someone will take it from her. Better us than Darken Rahl.”

Kahlan put her hand on his arm. “I don’t want you to decide until you hear what I have to say, until you hear what I am. Then, if you want me to leave I will understand.” She looked intently into his eyes. “Richard, I just want you to know that I have never cared for anyone the way I care for you, nor will I ever again.
But it is not possible for it to go beyond that. Nothing can ever come of it. Nothing good anyway.”

He refused to believe that. There was a way, there had to be. Richard took a heavy breath, letting it out slowly. “All right then, out with it.”

She nodded. “Remember when I told you that some who lived in the Midlands were creatures of magic? And that they couldn’t give up that magic, because it was part of them?” He nodded to her. “Well, I am one of those creatures. I am more than a woman.”

“So, what are you?”

“I am a Confessor.”

Confessor.

Richard knew that word.

Every muscle in his body went stiff. His breath caught in his throat. The Book of Counted Shadows suddenly flooded through his mind.
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
….

His mind raced, as if flipping the pages in his mind’s eye, scanning the words, trying to remember the whole book, trying to remember if
Confessor
was mentioned again. No, it wasn’t. He knew every word in the book, and Confessor was in it only once, at the beginning. He could remember puzzling over what a Confessor could be. He hadn’t even been sure, before, that it was a person. He felt the weight of the tooth hanging around his neck.

Kahlan frowned at the look on his face. “Do you know what a Confessor is?”

“No,” he managed. “I heard the word before, that’s all… from my father. But I don’t know what it means.” He struggled to regain control of himself. “So, what does it mean, to be a Confessor?”

Kahlan pulled her knees up, hugging her arms around them, withdrawing just a little. “It’s a power, magic power, that is passed from mother to daughter, going back almost as far as there have been the lands, back beyond the dark time.”