Chainfire

by Terry Goodkind

  “Well, I was only successful because I used Subtractive Magic.”

  No one said anything. They all just stared at her.

  “Wait a minute,” Nicci said, looking from one person to the next, “are you suggesting that I again somehow use Subtractive Magic on Richard?”

  “That’s exactly what we’re suggesting,” Zedd told her.

  Ann flicked a hand out toward Zedd and Nathan. “If one of us could do it, we would, but we can’t. We need you to do it.”

  Nicci folded her arms. “Do what, exactly? I don’t understand what it is you expect me to do.”

  Ann laid the hand on Nicci’s arm. “Nicci, listen to us. We don’t know what is causing Richard’s malady. We have no way of trying to cure something when we don’t know what it is. Even if we knew for sure that it was a glamour spell that had tainted that arrow, short the one who cast such a web, or absent the arrow, none of the three of us could eliminate the spell.

  “But we can’t be certain it was such a spell, or an entirely different kind of spell, or if it’s simply delirium brought on by the injury. We don’t know the cause. We may never know.

  “What must be done, now,” she said in a serious manner that no longer tried to be anything but straightforward and honest, “is is to eliminate the obsession—whatever its origin. It doesn’t matter if it was brought about by a spell, a dream, or by some sudden onset of insanity. The memory of this woman, Kahlan, is a false memory that is distorting his thinking and therefore must be eliminated from his mind.”

  Nicci was stupefied by what she was hearing. She looked from the former prelate to Zedd. “Are you seriously suggesting that I use Subtractive Magic on your grandson’s mind? You want me to eliminate a part of his consciousness? A part of who he is?”

  “No, not part of who he is—never. I would never want that.” Zedd licked his thin lips. His voice came out sounding helpless and despairing. “I want you to heal him. I want Richard back, the Richard I know, the Richard we all know—the real Richard, not the Richard with these foreign notions taking over his mind and destroying him.”

  Nicci shook her head. “I can’t do that to the man I—” She closed her mouth before she finished the sentence.

  “I would have back the Richard I love,” Zedd said in soft supplication. “The Richard we all love.”

  Nicci backed away a step, shaking her head, unable to think of what to say to such desperation. There had to be another way to bring Richard to his senses.

  “Show her,” Nathan said to Ann, his voice suddenly sounding very much like the towering prophet he was, the Rahl he was.

  Ann nodded in resignation and pulled something from her pocket. She held it out to Nicci. “Read this.”

  When Ann dropped it into Nicci’s hand, she saw that it was a journey book. She looked up at Nathan, Ann, and finally Zedd.

  “Go on,” the prophet said. “Read the message Ann received from Verna.”

  Journey books were incredibly rare. In fact, Nicci had thought they had all been destroyed at the Palace of the Prophets. She knew that what was written in one of the matched pair of twinned books would appear in the other. The stylus kept in the spine that was used to write in the book was also used to wipe away old messages. In that way the journey books never wore out or became obsolete. Nicci opened the invaluable product of ancient magic and turned to the writing.

  Ann, it began in a clear hand, I fear to report that things are not going well with our forces. Where is Richard? Have you found him yet? I apologize for pressing you yet again for I know you are traveling with all due haste, but the problems with the army grow more serious every day. Men have deserted—not a great many, mind you—but we are in D’Hara now, and the whispers are growing that Lord Rahl will not lead them in a battle that they all believe will be suicide. Richard’s continuing absence only confirms this fear for them. Day by day they grow to feel they have been abandoned by their Lord Rahl. None of the men believe that they have a chance against the enemy if Richard is not with his own troops to lead them.

  General Meiffert and I grow more desperate by the day as to what to tell disheartened men. Even if there was a good reason, it is still difficult enough for men knowing they face death not to have word from the first leader in their lives whom they truly believed in.

  Please, Ann, as soon as you reach Richard, tell him how much all these brave young men, who have borne the brunt of defending our cause for so long and have suffered so much, need him. Please find out how soon he will join us. Ask him to please hurry.

  Urgently awaiting word,

  Yours in the Light,

  Verna.

  The book lowered in Nicci’s hands. Tears stung her eyes.

  Ann lifted the journey book from Nicci’s trembling fingers. “What would you have me tell Verna? What would you have her say to the troops?” Ann asked in a quiet, even gentle, tone.

  Nicci blinked at the tears. “You want me to take away his mind? You want me to betray him?”

  “No, not at all,” Zedd assured her, gripping her shoulder in his powerful fingers. “We want you to help him…to heal him.”

  “We fear to even approach Richard in his present condition,” Ann said. “We fear he may suspect something. I’m afraid I’m partly responsible for that because of my harsh reaction to his delusions. The Creator forgive me, but I have spent my life ruling people’s lives and expecting compliance. Old ways die hard. Now, he thinks I intend to inflexibly force him to follow prophecy. He grows increasingly distrustful of us…but not of you.”

  “He would trust you,” Zedd told her. “You could lay a hand on him and he would not suspect anything.”

  Nicci stared. “Lay a hand on him…?”

  Zedd nodded. “You would have control of him before he ever knew what had happened. He won’t feel a thing. When he wakes up, the memory of Kahlan Amnell will be wiped away and he will be our Richard again.”

  Nicci bit her lower lip, unable to trust her voice.

  Zedd’s hazel eyes brimmed with tears. “I love my grandson dearly. I would do anything for him. I would do this myself, if I could do as good a job of it as you. I want him to be well. We all need him well.”

  He squeezed her shoulder again. “Nicci, if you love him, too, please, do this. Please do what only you can do and heal him one more time.”

  Chapter 56

  “Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us,” Kahlan murmured yet again.

  “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.”

  Her shoulders ached from kneeling on the floor with her forehead against the tiles, saying the devotion over and over. Despite the aching fatigue, she didn’t really mind it.

  “Master Rahl guide us,” Kahlan said as she started in again in harmony with the joined voices that echoed softly through the marble halls.

  “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.”

  In fact, she found it rather pleasant saying the same words over and over. They filled her mind, helping numb the terrible void. The words made her feel not so alone.

  So lost.

  “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.”

  Some of those concepts struck a cord with her and she found them comforting: safe, thriving lives where knowledge and wisdom prevailed. She liked the image of that. Such ideas seemed quite the marvelous dream.

  The others with her had been in a hurry, but when they’d seen the soldiers look their way, they had decided that they’d better go with the rest of the people collecting in a square that was open to the overcast sky. Under that cloudy sky lay white sand raked in concentric lines around a dark, pitted rock. On the
top of the rock sat a bell in a stout frame. This was the bell that had rung and called all the people together.

  Pillars supported arches on all four sides of the opening in the roof of the square. On the tile floor among the columns, all around Kahlan, people were on their knees, bent forward, with their foreheads touching the tile. In unison, everyone chanted the devotion to the Lord Rahl.

  Right near the end of the next repetition, the bell atop the dark, pitted rock rang twice. The voices all around Kahlan trailed off as they all finished together with “Our lives are yours.”

  In the sudden quiet, people rose up on their knees, many of them stretching and yawning before getting to their feet. Conversation welled up again as the people began moving off, going back to their business, to whatever they had been doing before the bell had called them to devotion.

  When the others with her gestured, Kahlan followed the orders and moved off down the passageway, away from the open square. They passed statues and an intersection before they angled their way over to one side of the broad hall. The other three stopped. Kahlan stood silently as she waited and watched people going past.

  The long climb up endless stairs, down miles of corridors, and up random flights of yet more stairs, all after the journey to get there in the first place, had left her dead on her feet. She would have liked to have sat down, but she knew better than to ask. The Sisters didn’t care if she was exhausted. Worse, though, she could tell how tense and edgy they were, especially after the unexpected interruption for the chanting. They would not react sympathetically or kindly to a request to sit down.

  With the mood they were in, if Kahlan even asked, she knew they would not have the slightest compunctions about beating her. She didn’t think that they would do it right there, not with all the people around, but they certainly would later. She stood quietly, trying to be invisible and not draw their ire.

  She guessed that the kneeling would have to be rest enough; it was all she was going to get.

  Soldiers in handsome uniforms, carrying a variety of polished weapons at the ready, patrolled the halls, watching everyone. Each time guards passed, whether in pairs or larger groups, their gazes took careful note of the three women standing with Kahlan. When that happened, the three Sisters pretended to be looking at statues, or some of the rich tapestries of country scenes. One time, to avoid the attention of passing soldiers, they huddled close, pretending to be oblivious of the soldiers as they pointed out a grand statue of a woman holding a sheaf of wheat as she leaned on a spear. They smiled as they spoke softly among themselves as if enjoying a pleasant discussion of the artistic merits of the work until the soldiers had gone on past.

  “Would you two sit down on that bench,” Sister Ulicia growled. “You look like cats being sniffed by a pack of hounds.”

  Sisters Tovi and Cecilia, both older, glanced around and saw the bench a few steps behind them, up against the white marble wall. They scooped their dress under their legs as they sat beside each other. Tovi, as heavy as she was, appeared especially weary. Her wrinkled face was red as a beet from kneeling with her face to the floor. Cecilia, always tidy, used the opportunity provided by sitting on the bench to fuss with her gray hair.

  Kahlan started for the bench, relieved at last have a chance to sit.

  “Not you,” Sister Ulicia snapped. “No one is going to notice you. Just stand there beside them so I will be better able to keep an eye on you.”

  Sister Ulicia lifted an eyebrow in warning.

  “Yes, Sister Ulicia,” Kahlan said.

  Sister Ulicia expected an answer when she spoke.

  Kahlan had learned that lesson the hard way, and would have answered sooner had she not stopped really listening after she’d been told that the offer to sit didn’t include her. She reminded herself that even if she was tired she had better pay more attention or she would earn a slap for now and a lot worse later.

  Sister Ulicia did not look away, or allow Kahlan to, but instead placed the tip of her stout, oak rod under Kahlan’s chin and used it to forcefully tilt her head up.

  “The day is not over, yet. You still have your part to do. You had better not even think of letting me down in any way. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Sister Ulicia.”

  “Good. We’re all just as tired as you, you know.”

  Kahlan wanted to say that they may be tired, but they had ridden horses. Kahlan always had to walk and keep up with their horses. Sometimes she had to trot or even run to keep from falling behind. Sister Ulicia was never pleased if she had to turn her horse and go back to collect her lagging slave.

  Kahlan glanced around the passageway at all the wondrous things displayed. Her curiosity overcame her caution.

  “Sister Ulicia, what is this place?”

  The Sister tapped her rod against her thigh as she briefly took in her surroundings. “The People’s Palace. Quite the beautiful place.” She looked back at Kahlan. “This is the home of the Lord Rahl.”

  She waited, apparently to see if Kahlan would say anything. Kahlan had nothing to say. “Lord Rahl?”

  “You know, the man we’ve been praying to? Richard Rahl, to be precise. He is the Lord Rahl now.” Sister Ulicia’s eyes narrowed. “Have you ever heard of him, my dear?”

  Kahlan thought about it. Lord Rahl. Lord Richard Rahl. Her mind seemed empty. She wanted to think things, to remember, but she couldn’t. She guessed that there was simply nothing for her to remember.

  “No, Sister. I don’t believe I have ever heard of the Lord Rahl.”

  “Well,” Sister Ulicia said with that sly smile she brought out from time to time, “I don’t suppose you would. After all, who are you? Just a nobody. A nothing. A slave.”

  Kahlan swallowed back her urge to protest. How could she? What would she say?

  Sister Ulicia’s smile widened. It seemed her eyes could look right down into Kahlan’s soul. “Isn’t that right, my dear? You are a worthless slave who is fortunate for the charity of a meal.”

  Kahlan wanted to object, to say that she was more, to say that her life had value and was worthwhile, but she knew that such things were only a dream. She was tired to the bone. Now, her heart felt heavy, too.

  “Yes, Sister Ulicia.”

  Whenever she tried to think about herself, there was only an empty void. Her life seemed so barren. She didn’t think it was supposed to be, but it was.

  Sister Ulicia turned when she noticed Kahlan’s gaze going to the returning Sister Armina, a mature woman with a straightforward personality. Sister Armina’s dark blue dress swished as she hurried down the wide corridor in a weaving course to make her way among the people strolling through the palace engaged in conversation and not watching where they were going.

  “Well?” Sister Ulicia asked when Sister Armina reached them.

  “I got caught up in a mass chanting to our Lord Rahl.”

  Sister Ulicia sighed. “Us, too. What did you find?”

  “This is the place—just behind me at the next intersection, then down the hall to the right. We need to be careful, though.”

  “Why?” Sister Ulicia asked as Sisters Tovi and Cecilia hurried close to listen.

  The four Sisters put their heads closer.

  “The doors are right there at the side of the hallway. There isn’t any way to go in there without being seen. At least for us. It’s pretty clear that no one is supposed to even think of going in there.”

  Sister Ulicia glanced up and down the hall to make sure no one was paying them any heed. “What do you mean, it’s pretty clear?”

  “The doors are made specifically to warn people away. They have snakes carved on them.”

  Kahlan shrank back. She hated snakes.

  Sister Ulicia slapped her rod against her leg as she pressed her lips together. Fuming, she finally turned her sour visage on Kahlan.

  “You remember your instructions?”

  “Yes, Sister,” Kahlan answered immediately.

  She wanted to ge
t it over with. The sooner the Sisters were happy the better. It was getting late in the day. The long climb up through the inside of the plateau and then the chanting had taken more time than the Sisters had expected. They had thought they would be finished and on their way by now.

  Kahlan was hoping that when she was done they could make camp and get some sleep. They never let her get enough sleep. Setting up camp meant more work for her, but at least there was sleeping to look forward to—as long as she didn’t earn the Sisters’ displeasure and a beating.

  “All right, this actually makes little practical difference. We will just have to stand off a little farther than we planned, that’s all.” Sister Ulicia scratched her cheek as an excuse to take a careful look, checking for guards, before leaning in again. “Cecilia, you stay here and watch this end of the hall for any sign of trouble. Armina, you go back past the entrance and watch the other side. Start now so that it doesn’t look like we’re together as we near the doors, in case they’re being watched.”

  Sister Armina flashed a crafty grin. “I will saunter down the halls and look like an awed visitor until she’s done.”

  Without further word, she hurried off.

  “Tovi,” Sister Ulicia said, “you come with me. We’ll be two friends, walking and chatting while visiting the Lord Rahl’s grand palace. Meanwhile, Kahlan will be seeing to her tasks.”

  Sister Ulicia snatched Kahlan’s upper arm and spun her around. “Come on.”

  With a shove, Kahlan was pushed on ahead of them. She hiked her pack up as she was hurried along. Together, the two Sisters followed her down the hall. As they reached the intersection where they had to turn right, two big soldiers came around toward them. They gave Sister Tovi only a passing glance, but they smiled at Sister Ulicia’s smile. Sister Ulicia could appear innocently enchanting when she wanted to, and she was attractive enough that men paid her notice.

  No one noticed Kahlan.