Warheart: Sword of Truth: The Conclusion

by Terry Goodkind

  “Are you serious?” Chase asked in a low voice.

  Richard gestured back to the alcove. “That’s most likely why the people back in that time sealed the catacombs. Sulachan could raise most of those dead, or at least the ones still mostly intact. They probably had to seal the catacombs to protect themselves.”

  “The reanimated dead are extremely difficult to stop,” Nicci put in. “You need to be aware that magic is of little use against them.”

  “Because of the occult powers used to bring them back to life?” Rachel guessed.

  Nicci smiled at her quick mind grasping the problem. “That’s right.”

  “Surely a sword would cut them down,” Chase said, his voice echoing as they all followed Richard into a passageway made of granite blocks.

  “If only it were so,” Richard told him. “About the only way to bring them down is with my sword or fire.”

  Chase gestured with a fist. “But surely enough men could–”

  Richard was shaking his head. “Even what you would think would be overwhelming numbers of soldiers of the First File can’t stop them. They aren’t really alive, so regular weapons can’t kill them. They are already dead. It’s the occult power driving these corpses that gives them such great strength. I’ve seen these walking dead with a collection of swords broken off in their chests and it doesn’t even slow them down.”

  Richard cast a meaningful look over at Chase as they turned down a hallway paneled with figured mahogany. “Even the heart hounds were easier to stop.”

  Chase grunted his discontent.

  “Anyway, Sulachan is determined to finish what he started so long ago. The time he spent in the underworld was meaningless to him, except that he used that time to manipulate events and gather underworld minions. He and his army of half people and walking dead are pouring across D’Hara right now on their way to take the People’s Palace. That will only be the beginning.

  “He has with him a powerful wizard, Hannis Arc, who also possesses occult powers. There is no telling how many people they are killing along the way. I have to get to the palace and stop them before they can take it.”

  “Oh,” Chase said in a sarcastic tone, “well, now I see. That doesn’t sound like it should be too awfully difficult.”

  “There is a lot more to it,” Richard told them.

  “Like what?” Verna asked.

  “It involves the power of Orden.” Richard gestured ahead. “The sliph isn’t far. We need to be on our way.”

  Verna spread her arms in frustration. “Even if everything you say is true, how can you hope to stop such powerful men that the wizards back in that time–with all their considerable knowledge and power–weren’t able to handle?”

  Richard cast her a look and waited until her gaze turned to his. “By ending prophecy.”

  Verna harrumphed. “Out of the rain and into the lake.”

  “Ahh,” Chase said, “well then, that sounds simple enough. I’m glad then that you have it all under control.”

  Despite everything, Richard couldn’t help smiling. He brought them all to a stop in a circular area where several hallways branched off. One of them, he remembered, would lead through shields and then directly to the tower room.

  Richard cleared his throat. “Verna, before we go, I have to give you an important message–from Warren.”

  Verna’s scowl melted. She blinked. “What do you mean … from Warren?”

  Richard looked down at the floor as he stuffed his hands in his back pockets. “Warren wants you to know that he loves you, and will love you for all eternity, and that he is at peace.”

  “How would you be able to know such a thing? How could you have such a message from him?” Verna swallowed, her eyes brimming with tears. “Warren is dead.”

  Richard nodded. “I was dead, too…” He flicked a hand uncomfortably. “… for a while. That was when I saw him.”

  Verna’s brow bunched together as she tried to comprehend what he was saying. “You were dead? What are you talking about?”

  “I had been murdered,” Kahlan explained, trying to help him and hurry the explanation along, “and while I was dead–”

  “While you were dead!” Verna asked incredulously.

  “Yes. I was dead. Nicci healed my body here in this world, then she stopped Richard’s heart so that his spirit could cross the veil. He went to the underworld and sent me back to the world of life. We thought we had lost him forever.”

  Verna, a look of horror on her face, rounded on Nicci. “You stopped Richard’s heart? You killed him? For five hundred years before he was born it had been known that he is our only hope, and you stopped his heart? What would possess you to do such a thing?”

  Nicci shrugged. “He told me to do it.”

  Verna blinked. “And so you killed him because he told you to? Knowing that prophecy names him as the pebble in the pond, knowing that he is our only hope?”

  Nicci looked uncomfortable. “Well, yes. He wanted to die, and I knew he would do it by his own hand if I didn’t help him. So I stopped his heart.” Nicci scratched her temple as her gaze fell away under the scrutiny of the woman now looking very much the part of the prelate. “If you would have been there, you would have understood.”

  Verna faltered, trying unsuccessfully several times to start another question. She finally turned back to Richard.

  “How can you be alive, now, if you were dead?”

  “Well, death isn’t what it used to be.” He realized how flippant that sounded, even though he hadn’t intended it to be. “That’s part of the problem we’re working on.”

  “How could you come back to life?” she pressed. “How is such a thing possible?”

  Richard cleared his throat as his gaze descended to the floor. “Cara gave her life as a bridge for me to cross back over and return to my body in the world of life.”

  “But she has a life now with Ben and–”

  “Ben was killed protecting us from the half people.”

  Verna blinked at the tears brimming again in her eyes. “And when you were dead, you saw Warren?”

  Richard nodded, offering her a small smile. “He wanted you to know that he loves you and that he is at peace so you shouldn’t worry for his spirit.”

  Verna looked away as she laid a hand over her heart for a moment. “Dear Creator, I don’t understand. I don’t understand anything anymore. The world seems to be unraveling.”

  Richard gently grasped her shoulder. “It is. That’s why I need to hurry. I have to stop it from unraveling.”

  CHAPTER

  49

  With Kahlan at his side, Richard led Nicci, the two Mord-Sith, Verna, Chase, and Rachel through a wide hallway that would take them to the round tower room. The plastered walls helped brighten the passageway. There were occasional tables holding a small statue or vase placed along the wall. They passed a variety of rooms to the sides, some small libraries or casual reading rooms with comfortable-looking chairs and others that were dark and hid their contents.

  Both Cassia and Vale chewed mouthfuls of cold roast venison as they casually glanced around along the way, taking in the sights, slowing a little when their attention was snagged by a tapestry or painting. They never seemed surprised or astounded by anything they saw, including a shallow display case holding strange, framelike items made out of carved bones that Richard knew to be objects invested with magic. Even though Mord-Sith didn’t especially like anything to do with magic, they did like to look at it all. He supposed that having originally come from the People’s Palace, where Darken Rahl once ruled, they didn’t find Keep nearly as impressive, but there were many strange and unexpected things about the Keep that they apparently liked looking at. They gazed at the art on their way by and noticed the strangely patterned marble floors they walked across.

  Along the short journey they had passed through a number of shields. Chase was apparently used to having someone gifted helping him get through the shields. Richard wasn’t
, because in the past his gift had enabled him to pass through any of them by himself, even ones requiring Subtractive Magic that few others could pass through. Now, with his gift not working, they had to skirt some of the strongest shields protecting dangerous magic and Nicci had to help him get through the rest.

  Kahlan had been able to glide through most of them, as she had been doing since she was little and wandered the halls of the Keep on her own. But this was a place, guarded by powerful shields, that she had never seen when she had been a young Confessor in training. Powerful shields that she couldn’t get through had kept her out. Richard knew that it was by design. There were dangerous objects of magic that could hurt the innocent or the unsuspecting, so the shields protected those areas. Nicci had to help her pass through those shields.

  “Do you want any more?” Verna asked, holding out a wrapped piece of venison to Richard and Kahlan.

  Kahlan put a hand over her stomach. “Thank you, no. I’ve had plenty.”

  “So have I,” Richard said when Verna offered it to him. He’d eaten enough to keep up his strength, but for a variety of reasons he had no appetite. He supposed the headache didn’t help. The poison was growing steadily stronger, but that was only to be expected.

  Like Richard and Kahlan, Nicci had also had enough. Also like Richard and Kahlan, she had a lot more important matters on her mind than eating.

  Cassia and Vale took the meat when it was offered to them. They seemed to have boundless appetites. Despite whatever concerns might have been on their minds, they seemed to have no trouble eating and worrying all at the same time. It reminded Richard of Zedd.

  “Take these, too,” Rachel said to the Mord-Sith. “Eat them when you have time.”

  “What are they?” Cassia asked as she took the small item wrapped in linen from the girl.

  “Honey cakes,” Rachel said with a proud smile.

  As they reached the end of the corridor, Cassia made a delighted groan at the sound of honey cakes.

  “I made them fresh this morning. Emma–she likes me to call her Mother–is teaching me how to cook.”

  “That sounds like a useful skill for a girl,” Cassia said as she chewed a mouthful of venison while scanning a room to the side. It was filled with long tables and benches.

  Rachel pulled one of the knives from a sheath at her belt and twirled it between her fingers, finally walking it across her knuckles, flipping it and catching it by the point. “Chase teaches me to use weapons.”

  Cassia’s face warmed with a conspiratorial smile. “An even more useful skill. You are a girl after my own heart.”

  “She knows how to cut it out for you, if you’d like,” Chase said with obvious pride.

  Cassia held up the last three fingers of the hand holding the venison. “No, I believe you.”

  The corridor ended at a landing partway up the inside of a round tower room at least a hundred feet across. Even though there were slits open to the outside up near the top, the openings weren’t very big, leaving the place rather dark. Rainwater running down the stone walls collected in a pool at the bottom. Stairs wound their way up around the inside of the immense stone tower, and at irregular intervals small landings interrupted the steps for doors at different levels along the way.

  They all descended the stairs in single file to reach the iron rail of the walkway around the outer edge at the base of the tower. From the openings high above, the weak shafts of light pierced the darkness, but it wasn’t enough to banish the gloom from the lower reaches. In the center, at the bottom of the tower, lay the pool of black water fed over time by the rain leaking in. Rocks broke the surface of the water here and there.

  Gripping the railing, Cassia and Vale leaned over to peer down over the edge into the inky waters. The big eye of a salamander resting on one of the rocks swiveled to watch them.

  Richard’s mind was occupied with wondering why there would be a sanctuary for spirits down below the catacombs. He was particularly struck by the cloth hangings covered with wards.

  He pointed across the tower to the hole broken through the stone wall, letting Cassia and Vale know where they were headed. It was the opening into Kolo’s room, as Richard had once called it because after the wall had been blown open for the first time since the great war, he had discovered the remains of a wizard who had once stood watch over the sliph in case an enemy were to try to enter the Keep that way. Sometime during that war the man had been sealed in and eventually died at his post. He had left a number of journals that had been helpful to Richard in understanding some of the things that had happened back in Kolo’s time.

  Unfortunately, the journals had not revealed the true extent of what had been going on. He thought that perhaps Kolo didn’t know. It was likely that very few people did.

  Cassia and Vale swiveled their heads, inspecting the impressive damage as they walked through the broken and partially melted stone of the opening into the large room. Kolo’s chair and small table still sat to the back of the round room. Unlike the room with Lucy’s well, this room was nearly sixty feet across, and even though it was much larger, it also was capped with a high, domed ceiling that was nearly as high as the room was wide.

  The well itself was nearly thirty feet across–considerably larger than Lucy’s. Richard speculated that the sliph had more volume to her, and needed a bigger well, because she traveled to so many more places. Maybe Lucy had been created for a singular purpose, whereas the sliph was at one time in frequent use, taking wizards to a variety of places.

  As Richard walked toward the waist-high stone well, he was surprised to see the quicksilver face of the sliph rise above the edge of her surrounding stone wall. The rising liquid bulge formed into glossy metallic features that reflected the lamplight and the room itself in what seemed like a living mirror.

  The attractive face was smiling with fluid grace. “Master. It pleases me to see you again.” The eerie voice echoed around the room. “Have you come to travel?”

  “Yes,” Richard said, surprised that she was already there and he didn’t have to wake her. “But what are you doing here? Why aren’t you asleep with your soul?”

  The face distorted with concern. “I was with my soul and at peace, but then you came into the spirit world. I saw you. We all saw you. We all saw the dark ones chasing you. You still had life in you. I could tell that you did not belong there. I was worried for you, so I came here, hoping that you would return to this world and come to me again so that I might help you.”

  Richard stepped closer. “I’m glad you’re here. We do need your help. We need to get to the People’s Palace as soon as possible.”

  “I know the place.” A smile widened on her face. “Come, we will travel.” She drifted closer to him. Her voice lowered to an intimate murmur. “You will be pleased.”

  “We came here in Lucy,” Kahlan said, her tone not at all intimate. “We traveled in her to get here. Do you know her?”

  The silver face turned with a cold look back to Richard. “Why did you not come to me? Did she please you more than I do?”

  Richard shook his head, eager to dispel the notion. He needed this strange creature to get them to the palace. The last thing they needed would be for her to vanish down her well.

  Richard gently put his fingers on Kahlan’s arm, urging her to take a step back. “No, it’s not at all like that,” he told the sliph. “We were trapped in Stroyza. Do you know the place?”

  The sliph frowned as she considered. “Stroyza,” she said, carefully pronouncing the name. “No, I have not heard of the Stroyza place. I cannot travel there.”

  With all the other problems he had to worry about, Richard didn’t need to have difficulty with a jealous sliph, so he tried to dismiss the significance of traveling via Lucy. “We were forced to travel in her to get here–get here to you.”

  The silver frown eased. “You wish to travel with me? Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I am. We need to travel to the People’s Palace. We need to
get there quickly. We had to get out of Stroyza and get back here to you so we could travel with you and be pleased. You see? We had to travel in Lucy in order to get back to you.”

  She regarded him coolly. “So that I could please you.”

  “Yes, that’s right.” He waved an arm, gesturing his displeasure. “It was terrible traveling in Lucy. It did not please me at all, but we had to do it to get here to you.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Kahlan folding her arms in annoyance. He didn’t know why she would be getting jealous of the sliph, but he could tell by her green-eyed look that she was.

  The reflective silver face began to distort as the smile returned. “You returned because you would rather travel in me?”

  He tried to make his voice sound more businesslike. “Yes, exactly. We wanted to come back so we could travel in you.”

  The smile brightened. “You will be pleased, Master. Come, we will travel.”

  Richard lifted his sword partway from its scabbard.

  “When I traveled in Lucy I brought this with me. She said I could travel in her with it.”

  The sliph leaned over a little, looking down at the sword he was holding halfway out of the scabbard.

  “I told you before, Master. That object is not compatible with life while it is in me. If you take it you all will die.”

  Richard waved a hand at the notion. “I know, I remember. But things have changed. You remember–you saw me in the world of the dead. Lucy said that because I have death in me, now, I could bring it and it wouldn’t harm us.”

  “This other, this Lucy, she let you take this with you in her?”

  “Yes, but she said it was only because I have a sickness in me. She said I’m already dead–you said that you yourself saw me in the world of the dead. She said this couldn’t kill me again.”

  The sliph looked skeptical as she considered for a moment before extending a glossy silver arm. The end of it formed into a hand with graceful fingers. She sensuously cupped the metallic-looking hand to his face the way a woman might caress a lover.

  The arm withdrew back into the well as concern settled into her reflective expression.