Terry Goodkind - Phantom - Chainfire Trilogy Part 2

Zedd squinted at the words in High D’Haran all by themselves on the page. “So you are saying, what . . . that because Darken Rahl turned to the boxes of Orden out of hate, he would have been destroyed by the true Book of Counted Shadows just the same as by a false one?”

“That’s one possibility,” Nicci said.

Zedd shook his head. “I don’t believe that. Some magic works by reading intent. The Sword of Truth works that way. People who hate don’t usually recognize that vile taint within themselves. They spew their hatred as righteous. That corruption is what makes them so evil—and so dangerous. They are able to do the most despicable things and think themselves heroes for having done them.”

“Then you are going to tell me that you believe that it was coincidence, luck, that both those books just happen to be the only true keys? And they just happened to be that close together? You think that the wizards who made the copies, sending them to distant, hidden places, would have put the one true copy right here, right near the only other true key? What would be the purpose of scattering the copies?”

Zedd rubbed his chin with his fingertips as he thought it over. “I see what you mean.”

“With books like this, there has to be a way to confirm the copies—to validate them.”

“There is,” Zedd told her. “In the beginning of The Book of Counted Shadows , it says, ‘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.’

“A copy constitutes ‘spoken by another,’ ” he said. “The person making the copy is, in essence, speaking it; the reader is not actually reading the original. Unless it’s the original key, and that original key is actually being read by the one who put the boxes in play, this forewarning invokes the necessity of verification.”

“Kahlan,” Nicci said.

The other two looked at her, and by the looks on their faces, they understood her meaning.

“Zedd,” Nicci finally asked into the silence, “None of us remembers Kahlan. If we could find her, and if we could somehow fix this Chainfire spell, or something . . . is there a way to make her remember what she right now would not recall?”

Zedd’s gaze wandered to the glowing spell-forms above the table. “No.”

Nicci hadn’t expected such certainty. “Are you sure?”

“About as sure as I can be. The spell destroys memory. It doesn’t cover it over, or block it from access, it destroys it. It doesn’t make people forget, it actually erases the memory. To the person upon whom such a terrible thing was unleashed, their memory is gone.”

“But there must be some way,” Cara insisted, “some magic this-or-that that will restore her mind.”

“Restore it with what? What none of us can recall? Memory is the stuff of life. Magic functions in specific ways, as do all things that exist. Magic is not some super-intelligent consciousness behind a veil that knows what we want to accomplish and can pull a person’s entire memory—their entire life—out of a pocket and hand it back just because we wish it.”

Cara didn’t look convinced. “But can’t—”

“Look at it this way. If I push that book off the table, it will fall to the floor. The invisible force of gravity makes it happen. Gravity functions in a specific way. I can’t wave my arms and by my wish command gravity to go make me dinner.

“Same with magic and memory. The Chainfire spell destroyed her memory. It can’t be brought back. You can’t restore what was and is no longer there. You just can’t. What’s gone is gone.”

Cara drew her hand down her long blond braid. “Then it sounds like we’re in a lot of trouble.”

“Trouble indeed,” the wizard conceded.

Nicci wanted to say that Richard’s heart was in a lot of trouble, but she dared not say such a thing out loud. She felt despondent for him, for what he would one day have to face. But she didn’t want to be the one to point it out.

“Then, if Richard finds her,” Nicci asked in a weak voice, “what is he to do?”

Zedd, hands clasped behind his back, stared at her a moment before looking away.

“There’s another way to confirm the true copy,” Cara said.

Zedd and Nicci both frowned at her, both relieved to have a diversion.

“You just find the other copies,” she said, “and compare them. The one Richard memorized is gone. So, if you find the others you can compare them. The one that’s different has to be the one true copy. The other four that are all the same have to be the false keys.”

Zedd arched an eyebrow. “And what if the people who made the false keys were worried that one day a clever Mord-Sith would think of that and so they made all the copies different from one another, so that they couldn’t be compared?”

Cara made a face. “Oh.”

Nicci threw up her arms. “How would he even go about finding the others, anyway? I mean, they’ve been hidden for three thousand years.”

“Not only that,” Zedd said, “but Nathan told us that there were catacombs under the Palace of the Prophets, and that place was destroyed. I know, I set the light spell myself. There would be nothing left, and even if somehow a pocket of the catacombs survived, the palace was built on an island. After the island was destroyed water would have flooded any underground room that hadn’t already been ruined.

“That one copy, if one of them was there, has already been destroyed. Was it a true or a false key? What if, over all this time, others have been destroyed? The question remains, how to tell if the one Richard knows, and the one I found, are the only two true keys.”

Nicci stared off. “I’m afraid they might be false copies—the one Richard memorized, and the one you found down in the catacombs.”

Zedd began pacing. “I don’t know any way to be sure.”

“There might be two ways,” she said. “The first, I can’t swear to, yet. I’ve only just started translating The Book of Life . But there is material having to do with the mention of using the key. It says that if the person who put the boxes in play fails to use the key properly, the boxes will be destroyed along with the one who put them in play.”

“Use the key properly . . .” Zedd said, deep in thought.

“That seems to me to say that if Darken Rahl would have failed to use the true key properly, such as by leaving off the last part—as you said Richard did when reciting it back to him—he would have been destroyed, but so would the boxes of Orden. As we know, the boxes of Orden weren’t destroyed, so that tells me Richard may very well have read him the false key and Darken Rahl simply opened the wrong box and it destroyed him.

“It doesn’t say that the boxes will be destroyed if a false key is used because at the time this was written there were no false keys yet, so that problem hadn’t been taken into consideration when this material was all created.”

Zedd frowned in thought. “Are you sure of this?”

“No,” Nicci admitted. “It’s complex and I’ve only just started to translate it. I scanned that part because it pertained to using the key to complete the required steps. It also has formulas that have to be taken into account. I’m only giving you my preliminary impression.”

Nicci ran her fingers back into her hair with one hand. She stood before the table with the open book on it, with her other hand on a hip.

“Do you see what I mean, though?” She gestured down at the book. “If Richard had corrupted the true key, making Darken Rahl pick the wrong box, this seems to indicate that the boxes would have been destroyed along with Darken Rahl. That seems to support the idea that Richard memorized a false key.”