Sorrel was just opening her mouth to yell something else when Kahlan slammed the heavy rock into the side of the woman’s head. It made a loud crack as the thick skull bones shattered.
The witch’s eyes went dead as her skull caved in under the speed of the heavy rock. Her right eye went glassy as it turned up and to the right. Her left eye, equally glassy, turned to point down and to her left. Kahlan imagined it looking to the underworld, where her soul was already sinking into eternity.
Sorrel dropped straight down into a limp, still heap.
As a pool of blood began to spread under Sorrel’s body, the sour-faced bull of a witch—at first surprised, now looking livid at what she had just seen happen—suddenly rushed headlong for Kahlan. Her fat neck was sunken down into her broad shoulders, like a charging bull’s, so much so that she couldn’t easily look down at where she was going. Her angry scowl was fixed on Kahlan.
In a reckless rush, the big woman stumbled over Sorrel’s body. In that instant, Kahlan seized one of her outstretched arms by a fat wrist and used the woman’s falling motion and weight to swing her on around. With a grunt of effort, Kahlan propelled the witch woman’s bulk out into the murky water.
She didn’t fly far, but she flew far enough. Her angry cry was cut short when she hit the water with a massive splash that lifted not just the dark water but strings of water weeds and algae up into the air, some of it flopping out across the trail. The big woman popped back up to the surface, her hair matted to her head, coughing up water between gasps for air.
As she surfaced, splashing and paddling awkwardly to get to the bank, something apparently grabbed her leg, making her cry out. She screamed in pain, reaching for the bank at the same time. Whatever it was that had her abruptly pulled, and in a single big yank dragged her back and down under the water. She was gone in an instant. Bubbles came up from the deep as a blood slick grew at a rapid rate and spread across the rippling surface.
Almost at the same time, the bony witch with the big black eyes, who had seen what had just happened to her sister, charged toward Kahlan, careful to leap over Sorrel’s body, intent on taking revenge. The witch’s sticklike arms flailed as she let out an animalistic cry that was a shriek of anger and lethal intent mixed together in one. It was the first sound Kahlan had heard the woman make, and it was properly bloodcurdling.
Kahlan was just coming up from having dropped to a knee having lost her balance from the effort of tossing the bony witch’s very large sister witch into the water. Without pause, as she stood, Kahlan seized a sticklike arm and spun the witch woman around, this time easily because she didn’t weigh much at all. Kahlan wheeled completely around with her. As she did, the woman’s feet, clear of the ground, sailed out as she flew around through the air like a bony rag doll.
As she came around from a full turn, Kahlan released her with a grunt of effort, letting her sail through the air and into the nest of roots of one of the squat, fat-trunked trees just off the trail.
When the bony woman crashed down in the midst of the roots, they instantly whipped out, knotting and coiling around her body the way a constricting snake would wrap its coils around a victim. Other roots captured her flailing arms and legs. Showers of sparks filled the air above the roots as the witch tried to cast some kind of spell, but it was too little too late.
Almost as soon as she had fallen in, the sparks died out as the witch woman was pulled under the mass of coils and writhing roots. Kahlan couldn’t see it, but she could hear bones snapping and joints popping as the strange tree dragged her under its nest of roots and pulled her limb from limb. Almost as quickly as the roots had grabbed her, she was gone, and it was over.
At the same time, Kahlan heard Nea scream in rage and charge toward her from behind.
Nea was out for blood and revenge.
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Kahlan turned halfway to the threat.
It was clear from the wild look in her eyes that Nea’s rage had taken control of her senses. Surprisingly, she charged in with a knife—Kahlan’s knife—rather than using magic. She apparently wanted to physically rip into Kahlan and take her down. She raced ahead knife-first, intending to slam the blade into Kahlan.
That was the last mistake the witch woman would ever make.
With the death of three witches mere moments before, the spell of coven was broken.
Kahlan’s power was no longer suppressed.
Nea leaped toward Kahlan, throwing herself at her, intending to crash down on her knife-first.
Kahlan lifted her hand, palm out toward the blade, as if warding it off.
It all happened in an instant, but that instant was all the time it took.
The world went still.
Kahlan felt the tip of the knife, as it had just begun to touch her palm. Although it was a razor-sharp blade, to Kahlan it felt like no more than a breath of air on her hand. It was not necessary for her to summon her Confessor power; she merely had to withdraw her restraint of it, and she had already done that.
Time stopped.
The inner violence of Kahlan’s cold, coiled power slipping its bounds was breathtaking. The astonishing magnitude of the force as it was unleashed was like touching the sun. It flared up from the very core of who she was and through every fiber of her being, lighting her soul with white-hot intensity.
Nea hung in the air, stopped dead before Kahlan, her hand with the knife outstretched, her feet clear of the ground, one of her knees parting the hundreds of knotted and beaded strips of her leather skirt. Kahlan could have counted the hundreds of stringy strands of red hair, lifted out in all directions, now frozen motionless in midair. It was like seeing a statue made of flesh and bone.
The rage in Nea’s eyes had only just taken that first tick of transition to alarm. She had just begun to realize by Kahlan’s posture, her resolute stance, her fearless bearing, that something was terribly wrong. Before she had been able to fully realize what was happening, it was already too late.
She was frozen in that instant of time just before the danger had fully registered.
Kahlan knew that behind her, the rest of the witch women were also still as stone, frozen in mid-movement. In the sky, a number of the ravens that had taken to wing at the initiation of the violence were impossibly stopped in midflight, their wings having just flapped, spread, or started to take another bite of the air, the fanned feathers at the back of their wings standing out individually, black, glossy, beautiful.
Something under the water to the side of the path had just disturbed the surface, and the ripples from it were now motionless. The mist drifting over the water had likewise stopped in place. The whole world waited, unmoving.
In the silent stillness of Kahlan’s mind, she had all the time in the world, all the time she would need to do what she had done so many times before.
Nea’s face was set in mid-snarl. Her teeth were bared. Beads of sweat dotted her glowering brow. Her pale blue eyes were wild, frozen in a picture of fury.
Of all the witch women, this one had been the one she had feared most because she always seemed dangerously deranged. Shota had put her in charge of Kahlan for a reason. She was not only Shota’s next-in-command, but she was also ruthless and would not hesitate to take control of any situation, and she had the power to deal with anything.
Except this.
The control of what was about to happen now belonged entirely to Kahlan.
She knew that back behind her somewhere, Shota would be in mid-scream, trying to stop what Kahlan had already done to break the coven. That power was now lost to Shota.
The Confessor’s power was now Kahlan’s again.
She had yet to feel a single heartbeat. Even so, she had taken in the whole scene in excruciating detail. She knew where everything and everyone was, all stopped in space.
Kahlan wondered if this redheaded witch woman yet knew that her mind was about to be gone. It was possible that she didn’t realize that a Confessor’s power also took a person’s min
d, but everything she was, and everything she had been, was about to be wiped away in a lightning instant by the unstoppable force of Kahlan’s power.
The woman’s mind, once emptied, would be replaced with a frantic, burning desire to do what Kahlan, and only Kahlan, as the Confessor who was taking her mind, wanted.
Even with taking control of this one witch before her, Kahlan was well aware that her position was still one of great peril. There were a lot of other witches.
And then there was Shota. She would not take kindly to what Kahlan had done.
Even so, it couldn’t be helped. The way things were going, if Kahlan didn’t act, and soon, it would all end badly. This way, at least, she had broken the coven and changed the balance of power. It didn’t ensure that she would survive, but had she not done it she would have had no chance. This at least gave her an entirely different field of battle, one in which she was not powerless.
As Kahlan gazed again into the eyes of this woman before her, she felt no hatred, no remorse, no anger, no sorrow, no pity. In fact, she felt no emotion at all.
This act was the embodiment of Confessor power, and the Confessor face reflected its cold nature, and in a way part of its purpose. This was reasoned action absent of emotion. It was a calculated act of aggression to change what would have otherwise happened. Emotion had no place in that, and was no longer necessary, so it was no longer a component of what had to be done. It was already decided the instant that knife point touched Kahlan’s palm.
Nea had no chance. None.
In that singular moment, if Kahlan was the absence of emotion, then Nea was the manifestation of it.
In that infinitesimal tick of time, Nea’s mind, who she was, who she had been, was already gone.
Kahlan did not hesitate.
She released the rest of her restraints on her gift to unleash the full, blinding force of her power.
Time slammed back.
Thunder without sound jolted the air—exquisite, violent, and for that pristine instant, sovereign.
The trees all around shook with the force of the concussion. The violent shock of it lifted the leaves, bits of plants, and sticks littering the ground and blew them outward in an ever-expanding ring around Kahlan. The dust and dirt and debris driven before the wall of power knocked the rest of the women from their feet as it stripped vegetation off the nearby shrubs and trees. As the force of that silent thunder ripped across the water to each side of the path, it drove a ring of water and water vapor before it. Trees shook. Small branches were torn off and blown back.
Nea gasped as the full force of Confessor power slammed into her.
Behind Kahlan, all of the women, who had been thrown from their feet and tumbled back away, were now grabbing their elbows, knees, or wrists in pain. She could hear them groaning in agony from having been too close to Kahlan when her Confessor power was unleashed.
Nea dropped to her knees before Kahlan. She looked up through strands of red hair, no longer in hate and rage, but in pleading.
“Mistress … please … command me.”
Kahlan looked down, feeling no sorrow for the woman. Her life as she had known it was now ended. Her memories, her wishes, her hopes were gone. She had forfeited all of that and more when she tried to kill Kahlan.
“Please, Mistress,” Nea begged. “Please, command me.”
“Kill Shota.”
Almost instantly, knife still in her fist, Nea scrambled to her feet and charged past Kahlan, going for Shota.
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As Nea shot past, Kahlan turned to see all the rest of the witch women, including Shota, getting to their feet, most of them groaning in pain from being so close when Kahlan had unleashed her power.
Nea, screaming in single-minded, lethal fury, raced through some and leaped over others as she bolted toward Shota.
Unlike the others, who were slowly struggling up, Shota, who had also been knocked from her feet, swiftly swirled around as she rose with the grace of silk billowing in a breeze. The flaps and folds of her variegated gray dress whirled with her like trails of smoke behind the flames of a torch as she advanced in a blur with otherworldly speed.
Kahlan blinked and there was Shota abruptly standing before the advancing Nea. Nea was still screaming, intent only on carrying out Kahlan’s command.
She lifted her fist with the knife to drive it into her former leader.
Before the knife made it to Shota, Shota calmly tapped Nea’s forehead once with a finger.
Nea instantly stopped dead in her tracks. At the same time, all of her blackened and cracked the way a log in a fire turns black and checkers into pieces before it falls apart. All of those black chunks one moment made a very odd-looking Nea, and the next moment crumbled like coals collapsing in a blaze. In mere seconds, all that was left of a totally committed Nea was a heap of glowing embers.
Kahlan could hardly believe that just that quick, Nea was no more. She supposed she was actually no more the instant Kahlan’s power had taken her mind, but still, this was a disturbing development. One second there was about to be a battle, and then the next second it was over. Of course, Kahlan hadn’t thought that killing Shota would be as easy as simply ordering Nea to kill her, but she had hoped that it would result in a longer battle that would allow her to escape.
That was not to be.
Beyond Shota and the blackened, crumbled remains of Nea spilled all over the ground, Kahlan saw all the rest of the wide-eyed witch women, including Shale, standing close together, shrinking back in horror at having seen both Shota’s power and Kahlan’s used in such horrifying fashion, to say nothing of having also just seen four of their sister witches die violently in a matter of seconds.
The four dead witches had been vicious and seemed to enjoy their roles in Shota’s scheme and as Kahlan’s captors, glad to inflict whatever pain that control required or was commanded by Shota. It was apparent from the way the rest of them in the background stared that they were not nearly so eager for battle. Faced with such savage power unleashed so swiftly, and with such devastating results, they all had to fear that any of them might be next.
Kahlan knew that Shale, at least, was not there by her own wishes, but by Shota’s command. She wondered if it was the same for any of the others.
Shota gracefully stepped around the smoldering remains of her former second-in-command and came to a halt in front of Kahlan.
“Well, well, Mother Confessor, it seems you have managed to break the coven.” She tipped her head close and spoke in a low, deadly voice. “But in so doing, you have lost the ability to use your power again until you recover your strength, and we both know that will take a while. In the meantime, you have left yourself defenseless against my abilities.” She gestured back at the smoldering ashes. “Abilities which, I believe you now realize, need no coven.”
“Wars are rarely won in a single battle, or a single victory,” Kahlan said. “It may take a while before my power recovers, but that power will soon enough return. On the other hand, you have lost the power of coven for good.” Kahlan arched an eyebrow. “Unless you have four more witches hiding in your pocket?”
A slow smile came to Shota’s full lips. “Nea was a very, very good witch, but she made the mistake of underestimating you. I don’t make those kinds of foolish mistakes.”
Kahlan didn’t try to outsmile the witch woman. “Then you had best let me go, before I regain the ability to call on my Confessor power again.”
Shota glared. “That isn’t going to happen.”
Kahlan shrugged. “Then you will have to kill me before my power recovers and I have you on your knees at my feet, begging for me to command you. So go ahead and turn me to a pile of smoldering coals as you did your trusted right-hand witch. I wouldn’t delay long, were I you. I was named Mother Confessor in part because my ability recovers quickly.”
Shota’s smile returned and widened. Kahlan thought it looked almost like a smile of admiration.
“Kill you? I told
you before, my dear, I don’t intend to kill you. You are far too valuable to the world. No, you will come with me down into Agaden Reach, where you will rest in comfort and security until you deliver your two children. After that, you will be allowed to go off on your way.”
“And how do you think you could possibly accomplish such a feat before I am able to use my power again and I kill you?”
Shota dismissed the notion with a gesture. “It took a great deal of time and trouble to assemble the witches needed to form a coven, and you may have broken that gathering, but you make a serious mistake thinking that weakens me to the point of being helpless against you and your power. I have not only my own power, but the power of the witch women behind me that I can link should I need to.”
“Then you best do it soon,” Kahlan warned.
The witch woman’s smile changed from admonishment to amusement. “You are correct, Mother Confessor. Wars aren’t usually won in a single victory, and although you don’t seem yet to grasp it, you are destined to lose this war.”
“I don’t believe in destiny.”
Shota sighed, weary of the game. She ran the tip of her finger along Kahlan’s jaw.
“Maybe you are right, Mother Confessor, but I have made plans enough to predetermine that the outcome will be as I wish it.”
Kahlan felt something abruptly tighten around her ankles. Without looking down, she tried, but couldn’t move her feet. She was too angry to let herself panic.
“Clever trick, Shota. But I will soon end this war with you once and for all.”
Shota arched an eyebrow. “I’m afraid you will never get that chance. You see, before you can recover your ability to use your power, you will be spelled into a deep and peaceful sleep and then taken the rest of the way down to my home, where you will not awaken before you give birth. Once you do, then I will kill those two children, as I have told you I would.
“I have given you enough chances to be reasonable for the greater good. For my own safety, since you have now vowed to kill me with your power once it recovers, after you give birth and your children have been killed, you will have to be put down for good. You will never recover from that peaceful sleep.”
Into Darkness Page 19
