Terry Goodkind - Wizard's First Rule

“Yes.”

“You would let him kill your descendants? Your living flesh and blood? You aren’t spirit ancestors to our people, you are spirit traitors!”

“Not true.”

“Then tell me!”

“Not allowed.”

“Please! Don’t leave us without your help. Let me ask another question?”

“We are not allowed to disclose where the boxes of Orden are. It is forbidden. Think, and ask another question.”

Richard sat down, pulling his knees up. He rubbed his eyes with the tips of his fingers. The symbols painted all over him made him look like some kind of wild creature. He put his face in his hands, thinking. His head snapped up.

“You can’t tell me where the boxes are. Are there any other restrictions?”

“Yes.”

“How many boxes does Rahl already have?”

“Two.”

He looked at the elders evenly. “You have just disclosed where two of the boxes are. That is forbidden,” he reminded them. “Or maybe it is simply a gray shade of intent?”

Silence.

“That information is not restricted. Your question?”

Richard leaned forward like a dog on scent. “Can you tell me who knows where the last box is?”

Richard already knew the answer to this question, she suspected. She recognized his manner of slicing the loaf the other way.

“We know the name of the person who has the box, and the names of several other people nearby, but we cannot tell you the names because that would be the same as telling you where it is. That is forbidden.”

“Then, can you tell me the name of a person, other than Rahl, who is not in possession of the last box, who is not near it, but who knows where it is?”

“There is one we can name. She knows where the box is. If we tell you her name, that would not lead you to the box, only to her. This is allowed. It will be up to you, not us, to get whatever information you might.”

“That is my question, then: who is it? Name her.”

When they uttered the name, Kahlan froze with a jolt. She didn’t translate. The elders shook at the mere name, spoken aloud.

“Who is it? What’s her name?” Richard demanded of her.

Kahlan looked up at him.

“We are as good as dead,” she whispered.

“Why? Who, is it?”

Kahlan sank back, into herself. “It is the witch woman, Shota.”

“And do you know where she is?”

Kahlan nodded, her brow wrinkled in terror. “In the Agaden Reach.” She whispered the name as if even the words tasted of poison. “Not even a wizard would dare to go into the Reach.”

Richard studied the visage of fear in her face, and looked to the elders as they shook.

“Then we go to Agaden Reach, to this witch woman, Shota,” he said in an even voice, “and find out where the box is.”

“We wish you kind fates,” the spirits said, through the Bird Man. “The lives of our descendants depend upon you.”

“Thank you for your help, honored ancestors,” Richard said. “I will do my best to stop Rahl. To help our people.”

“You must use your head. That is Darken Rahl’s way. Meet him on his terms, and you will lose. It will not be easy. You will have to suffer, as will our people, as will other people, before you have even a chance to succeed. And in all probability, you will still fail. Heed our warning, Richard With The Temper.”

“I will remember the things you say. I pledge to do my best.”

“Then we will test the truth of your pledge. There is something else we would tell you.” They paused for a moment. “Darken Rahl is here. He looks for you.”

Kahlan translated in a rush, jumping to her feet. Richard came up beside her.

“What! He is here now? Where is he, what is he doing’?”

“He is in the center of the village. He is killing people.”

Fear raged through Kahlan.

Richard took a step forward. ‘‘I have to get out of here. I have to get my sword. I have to try to stop him!”

“If you wish. But hear us out first. Sit,” they commanded.

Richard and Kahlan sank back down, looking wide-eyed at each other, clutching each other’s hands. Tears welled up in her eyes. “Hurry, then,” Richard said.

“Darken Rahl wants you. Your sword cannot kill him. Tonight, the balance of power is on his side. If you go out there, he will kill you. You will have no chance. None. In order to win, you must change the balance of power, something you cannot do this night. The people he kills tonight will die whether or not you go out to fight him. If you do go out, more will die in the end. Many more. If you are to succeed, you must have the courage to let these die tonight. You must save yourself to fight at another time. You must suffer this pain. You must heed your head rather than your sword, if you are to have a chance to win.”

“But I have to go out sooner or later!”

“Darken Rahl has loosed many dark terrors. He must balance many things, including his time. He does not have the time to wait all night. He is confident, with good reason, that he can defeat you at any time of his choosing. He has no reason to wait. He will be gone soon, to tend to other dark matters, to look for you another day.

“The symbols painted upon you open our eyes to you, so we may see you. They close his eyes to you—he cannot see you. Unless you draw your sword. That, he will be able to see—then he would have you. As long as the symbols are upon you, and the magic of your sword remains in its scabbard, while you are in Mud People territory he cannot find you.”

“But I can’t stay here!”

“Not if you wish to stop him. When you leave our territory, the power of the symbols will be gone, and he will be able to see you again.”

Richard’s clenched fists shook. Kahlan could see by the look on his face that he was close to disregarding the warning, close to going out to fight.

“The choice is yours,” the spirits said. “Wait in here while he kills some of our people, and when he is gone, go after the box, to kill him. Or go out now, and accomplish nothing.” Richard closed his eyes tight. His chest rose and fell with his labored breathing.

“I will wait,” he said in a voice she could barely hear.

Kahlan threw her arms around his neck, putting her head against his, as they both cried. The circle of elders began spinning around again.

That was the last thing she remembered until she and Richard were shaken awake by the Bird Man. She felt as if she were coming out of a nightmare as she recalled the things the spirits said, about the killing of the Mud People, and that to find the box they had to go into Agaden Reach, to Shota. She recoiled at the thought of the witch woman. The other elders were standing over them, and helping both of them up. All wore grim faces. Tears tried to come to her again. She forced them back.

The Bird Man pushed the door open to the cold night air, to a clear, starlit sky.

The clouds were gone. Even the snakelike cloud.

Dawn was less than an hour away, and already the eastern sky had a hint of color to it. A solemn-faced hunter handed them their clothes, and Richard his sword. Wordlessly, they dressed and went out.

A phalanx of hunters and archers protectively surrounded the spirit house. Many were bloodied. Richard pushed in front of the Bird Man.

“Tell me what happened,” he ordered in a quiet voice.

A man with a spear stepped forward. Kahlan waited next to Richard, to translate. Rage flared in the man’s eyes.

“The red demon came from the sky, carrying a man. He wanted you.” Fire in his eyes, he pushed his spearpoint against Richard’s chest. The Bird Man, stonefaced, put his hand on the spear, raising the point away from Richard. “When he could only find your clothes, he began killing people. Children!” His chest was heaving with anger. “Our arrows would not touch him. Our spears would not touch him. Our hands would not touch him. Many of those who tried were killed by magic fire. Then he became even more angry when he saw that we use fire. He made all the fires go out. Then he climbed back on the red demon and told us that if we use fire again, he will come back and kill every child in the village. With magic, he floated Siddin into the air, and took him under his arm. A gift, he said, for a friend. Then he flew away. And where were you and your sword!”