Terry Goodkind - Confessor - Chainfire Trilogy Part 3

“If we have to, we will.”

Kahlan remembered the way Richard fought with a sword—or with a broc, for that matter. But this was different.

“And if we get caught in here do you think that sword of yours is going to be any good against a witch woman who could be lurking anywhere?”

He looked away from her eyes to check the hallway again. “The world is about to end for a great many good people who love life and just want to live it. That includes you, and me. I don’t have any choice. I have to get that book.”

He leaned out to check the other direction down the dimly lit hallway. Kahlan could hear the approaching echo of boots as soldiers patrolled. So far they had been able to evade a number of them. Richard was very good at moving in dark passages and hiding in plain sight.

They pressed back into the shallow shadow of the recessed doorway, trying to make themselves as flat as possible. The four guards, talking about the women in town, rounded the nearby corner and strolled by, too eager to brag about their conquests to notice Richard and Kahlan hiding in the dark doorway. Kahlan, holding her breath, could hardly believe that they hadn’t been spotted. She kept a tight grip on the handle of her knife. As soon as the guards turned the far corner Richard grabbed her hand and pulled her after him into the hallway.

Down another dark corridor he came to an abrupt halt before a heavy door. The hasp had a lock in it.

Richard, his sword already in his hand, slipped the blade through the bar. Pressing his lips tight, he strained to twist the sword. With a muffled metallic pop the lock broke. Pieces of steel bounced across the stone floor. Kahlan winced at the sound, sure that it would bring guards running. They heard nothing.

Richard slipped in through the doorway.

“Zedd!” she heard him call in a loud whisper.

Kahlan stuck her head into the room. There were three people inside the small stone cell: an old man with disheveled white hair, a big blond-headed man, and a woman with her blond hair in the single braid of a Mord-Sith.

“Richard!” the old man shouted. “Dear spirits—you’re alive!”

Richard crossed his lips with a finger as he pulled Kahlan in behind him. He quietly shut the door. The three people looked tired and bedraggled. It looked to have been a harsh confinement.

“Keep your voice down,” Richard whispered. “There are guards all over this place.”

“How in the world did you know we were here?” the old man asked.

“I didn’t,” Richard said.

“Well, I can tell you, my boy, that we have a great many things to—”

“Zedd, be quiet and listen to me.”

The old man’s mouth snapped shut. Then he pointed. “How did you get your sword back?”

“Kahlan gave it back to me.”

Zedd’s bushy brow drew down. “You saw her?”

Richard nodded. He held out his sword. “Put your hand around the hilt.”

Zedd’s frown grew. “Why? Richard, there are a great many more important—”

“Do it!” Richard growled.

Zedd blinked at the command. He straightened and he did as Richard had told him to do.

Zedd’s gaze shot to Kahlan. A light seemed to come on in his hazel eyes as they went wide.

“Dear spirits . . . Kahlan.”

As Zedd stood frozen in shock, Richard held the sword out to the woman. She touched the handle. Recognition dawned in her eyes as she stared at Kahlan, who had just suddenly seemed to magically appear before her. The big man, when he touched the hilt, was no less astonished.

“I know you,” Zedd said to her. “I can see you.”

“Do you remember me?” Kahlan asked.

Zedd shook his head. “No. The sword must interrupt the ongoing nature of the Chainfire event. It can’t restore my lost memory—that’s gone—but it stops the ongoing effect. I can see you. I recognize who you are. I don’t recall you, but I know you. It’s rather like seeing a face you know but not being able to place it.”

“Same with me,” the big man said.

The woman nodded her agreement.

Zedd grabbed Richard’s sleeve. “We have to get out of here. Six will be back. We dare not get caught here and have to tangle with her. She’s more than a handful.”

Richard started across the room. “I have to get something first.”

“The book?” Zedd asked.

Richard stopped and turned back. “You saw it?”

“I should say I did. Where in the world did you ever come across such a thing?”

Richard climbed up on the chair and pulled down a pack stuffed up behind a beam. “First Wizard Baraccus—”

“From the great war? That Baraccus?”

“That’s right.” Richard hopped down from the chair. “He wrote the book and then had it hidden for me to find. He is responsible for me being born with both sides of the gift, so he wanted to help me with my abilities. He had his wife, Magda Searus, hide it after he came back from the Temple of the Winds. It’s a long story, but the book has been waiting for me for three thousand years.”

Zedd appeared dumbfounded. They gathered around the table as Richard dug around in the pack until he found the book and pulled it out. He held up the book for Zedd to see.

“The problem was, at the time I was cut off from my gift, so I couldn’t read it. It just looked like blank pages. I don’t know what Baraccus wanted to tell me about my ability.”

Zedd shared a look with the other two captives. “Richard, I need to talk to you about what Baraccus left for you.”

“Yes, in a moment.”

A frown grew on Richard’s face as he thumbed through the book. “It’s still blank.” He looked up in confusion. “Zedd, it’s still blank. The block on my gift was broken—I know it was. Why would this still appear blank to me?”

Zedd laid a hand on Richard’s shoulder. “Because it is blank.”

“To me. But you can read it.” He held the book open before the old man. “What does it say?”

“It’s blank,” Zedd repeated. “There is no writing at all in the book—only the title on the cover.”

Richard puzzled at the old man. “What do you mean it’s blank? It can’t be blank. It’s supposed to be the Secrets of a War Wizard’s Power !”

“It is,” Zedd said in a grave tone.

Richard looked heartbroken, angry, and puzzled all at once. “I don’t understand.”

“Wizard Baraccus left you a wizard’s rule.”

“What wizard’s rule?”

“The rule of all rules. The rule unwritten. The rule unspoken since the dawn of history.”

Richard ran his fingers back through his hair. “We don’t have time for riddles. What did he want me to know? What is the rule!”

Zedd shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s never been spoken, and has never been written.

“But Baraccus wanted you to know that it’s the secret to using a war wizard’s power. The only way to express it, to make sure that you would grasp what he was intending to tell you, was to give you a book unwritten to signify the rule unwritten.”

“How am I supposed to use it if I don’t know what it is?”

“That’s a question for yourself, Richard. If you are the one Baraccus thought you were, then you will know how to use what he left for you. He obviously thought it was exceptionally important and worth all the trouble he went to, so I would say that it must be what you need.”

Richard took a deep breath to steady himself. Kahlan felt so sorry for him. He looked at his wits’ end. He looked on the verge of tears.

“My, my, my,” came a voice from behind.

They all spun around.

A reed-thin woman in black smiled a sly smile. Her hair was a tangled nest of black. Her bloodless flesh and blanched eyes made her look ca­daverous.

“Six . . .” Zedd said.