Terry Goodkind - Soul of the Fire

“Caharin, you must come with me. Du Chaillu has sent me.”

Richard shot to his feet. “The baby? The baby is coming? I’ll get Kahlan. Let’s go.”

“No.” Jiaan put a restraining hand against Richard’s shoulder. “Not your child. She sent me to get you, and she said to come alone.”

“She doesn’t want me to get Kahlan?”

“No, Caharin. Please, you must do as our spirit woman, your wife, asks.”

Richard had never seen such a look of concern in Jiaan’s dark eyes. The man was always stone with a sword. Richard held out a hand, inviting Jiaan to lead the way.

To his surprise, it was near dawn. Richard had been working the entire night. He hoped Kahlan was asleep; if she wasn’t, she would scold him for not getting any rest.

Jiaan had two horses saddled and waiting. Richard was startled. The man would run rather than ride unless Du Chaillu told him to ride, and that was just about never.

“What’s going on?” Richard gestured off toward Du Chaillu’s tent. “I thought Du Chaillu wanted me.”

Jiaan swung into his saddle. “She is in the city.”

“What is she doing in Fairfield? I’m not sure it’s safe there for her, not after they’ve been turning everyone against us.”

“Please, Caharin. I beg you, come with me, and hurry.”

Richard sprang up onto his horse. “Of course. I’m sorry, Jiaan. Let’s go.”

Richard was beginning to worry that Du Chaillu had already come to trouble from people in Fairfield. They knew she was with Richard and Kahlan. For that matter, they knew she was Richard’s wife.

He urged his horse into a run. Anxiety twisted in his gut.

The door to a house set back among trees opened. Edwin peered out. Richard, by now in a state of deep concern, relaxed a bit. The person they saved was probably not making it, and they wanted him to see them before death came, since he had breathed the breath of life back into them.

Richard didn’t understand what Du Chaillu was doing there, but he surmised that she had a common bond with the person, having been brought back to life in the same way herself.

Edwin, looking concerned and frightened, led them back through hallways and through well-kept rooms in the large house. It had an empty, quiet, sad feel to it. With Edwin’s wife murdered, Richard thought it was to be expected.

They reached a room at the end of a short, dimly lit hall. The door was closed. Jiaan knocked softly, and then escorted the despondent Edwin away.

Edwin caught Richard’s sleeve. “Anything you need, Richard, I’m here.”

Richard nodded and Edwin let Jiaan take him away. The door eased open. Du Chaillu peered out. When she saw it was Richard, she came out, putting a hand to his chest, backing him away. She pulled the door closed behind herself.

She kept the restraining hand on his chest. “Richard, you must listen to me. You must listen very carefully, and not become crazy.”

“Crazy? Crazy about what?”

“Richard, please, this is important. You must listen, and do as I say. Promise me.”

Richard could feel the blood draining out of his face. He nodded. “I promise, Du Chaillu. What is it?”

She stepped closer. Keeping the hand on his chest, she added the other to his arm.

“Richard, the person you found . . . it was Kahlan.”

“That’s not possible. I’d know Kahlan.”

Du Chaillu’s eyes were brimming with tears. “Richard, please, I don’t know if she will live. You brought her back, but I don’t know if . . . I wanted you to come.”

He was having trouble getting his breath. “But . . .” He couldn’t think. “But, I would have known. Du Chaillu, you must be wrong. I would have known if it was Kahlan.”

Du Chaillu squeezed his arm. “I did not know myself until we cleaned some . . .”

Richard made for the door. Du Chaillu pushed him back. “You promised. You promised to listen.”

Richard was hardly hearing her. He couldn’t think. He could only see that bloody broken body lying there in the field. He couldn’t make himself believe it was Kahlan.

Richard pushed his fingers back into his hair. He struggled to find his voice. “Du Chaillu, please, don’t do this to me. Please don’t you do this to me.”

She shook the arm. “You must have strength, or she has no chance. Please, do not go crazy on me.”

“What do you need? Name it. Name it, Du Chaillu.” Tears were running down his face. “Please, tell me what you need.”

“I need you to listen to me. Are you listening?”

Richard nodded. He wasn’t sure what she was asking, but he nodded as his mind was racing. He could cure her. He had magic.

Healing was Additive.

The chimes took all the Additive Magic.

She shook him again. “Richard.”

“I’m sorry. What. I’m listening.”

Du Chaillu finally could no longer hold his gaze. “She lost her child.”

Richard blinked. “Then you are wrong. It can’t be Kahlan.”

Du Chaillu stared at the floor and took a deep breath.

“Kahlan was pregnant. She told me when we were at the place where you read the things of the Ander man.”

“Westbrook?”

Du Chaillu nodded. “There, before you went with her riding alone up to the mountain lake, she told me. She made me promise not to tell you. She said only it was a long story. I think now you have the right to my broken promise.

“She has lost her child.”

Richard sank to the floor. Du Chaillu hugged him as he wept uncontrollably.

“Richard, I understand your pain, but this will not help her.”

Richard, somehow, forced himself to stop. He leaned back against the wall, numb and dazed, waiting for Du Chaillu to tell him what he could do. “You must stop the chimes.”

He rushed to his feet. “What?”

“You could heal her if you had your magic.”

It all fell into place. He had to stop the chimes. That was all. Just stop the chimes, and then heal Kahlan.

“Richard, when we were at that place where Kahlan told me she was with child . . .” The words “with child” jolted him anew, as he realized that Kahlan was going to have a child, and he never knew, and now it had already died. “. . . Westbrook . . . Richard, listen to me. When we were there, the people said there was terrible wind, and rain, and fire that destroyed almost everything of that man.”

“Yes, I believe it was the chimes.”

“They hated him. You must have that same hate in your heart for the chimes so that you may vanquish them. Then you can have your magic back and heal Kahlan.”

Richard’s mind was racing. The chimes hated Joseph Ander. Why? Not because the man had sent them back—he didn’t do that. He had instead enslaved the chimes to serve him. The Dominie Dirtch were somehow connected to what he did.

When Richard and Kahlan freed the chimes, they took their vengeance on certain of his possessions. But why the things at Westbrook, and not those in the library at the Minister’s estate?

Joseph Ander’s words rang in his head.

In the end, I have concluded I must reject the Creator and the Keeper both. I instead create my own solution, my own rebirth and death, and in so doing will always protect my people. And so farewell, for I shall lay my soul on troubled waters, and thus watch over for all time that which I have so carefully wrought, and which is now safeguarded and inviolate.

Troubled waters.

Richard finally understood what Joseph Ander had done.

“I have to go. Du Chaillu, I have to go.” Richard seized her by the shoulders. “Please, keep her alive until I get back. You must!”

“Richard, we will do our best. You have my word as your wife.”

“Edwin!”

The man came shuffling down the hall. “Yes, Richard. What can I do? Name it.”