Terry Goodkind - The Third Kingdom

He dismissed her suggestion with a wave. “Later.”

She bowed her head. “As you wish, Lord Arc.”

Richard wished he knew where in the world she had come from, and why he didn’t know anything about her.

“Enough of this,” Hannis Arc said, dispensing with the polite tone, falling back on his true nature. “If you want to see your friends again,” he said to Richard, “you will come with me.”

He started away, but then turned back. “By the way, I believe you understand how the power of a Mord-Sith works. Draw your weapon, and Vika will own you.”

“Vika,” Richard said, addressing her directly and ignoring her master. “What are you doing here, with him? Mord-Sith serve the Lord Rahl.”

“Not all of us,” she said with that unique, chilling smile of a Mord-Sith. “Not anymore.”

“What do you mean, not anymore?”

“We used to serve the House of Rahl, as had always been our tradition, but when Darken Rahl sent us on missions to Fajin Province in his name, some of us accepted Lord Arc’s invitation to join with him, instead. We chose to serve him, and remain under his protection from the Lord Rahl.”

Richard nodded. “I understand, Vika. Darken Rahl was an evil man. I know how he treated the Mord-Sith. Believe me, he harmed me as well. In the end, I killed him.”

She smiled again. “Good for you.” The smile vanished. She spun her Agiel up into her fist. “Now do as you were told and come along, or I will make you wish that you had not hesitated.”

Richard knew that there was a time and place for everything, including a time and place to stand and fight. There was even a time and place to try to explain things. This was not either. Especially not in front of Hannis Arc.

He also knew what Mord-Sith were made of. They were universally feared for good reason. It was not a fight he really wanted to have. He looked at the determination in her steely blue eyes, and beyond to the hundreds of Shun-tuk that had appeared from nowhere.

This was not the time and place to stand and fight.

More than that, though, he knew these people were likely responsible for capturing his friends. Going with them was bound to be the quickest and easiest way to find out where Zedd, Nicci, Cara, Ben, and all the rest of them were being held.

Once he knew that, then maybe it would be the time to stand and fight.

Richard bowed his head. “Please, Bishop, Mistress Vika, lead the way.”

CHAPTER

61

In a grim mood, Richard followed behind Hannis Arc as he marched off in the direction of the rock towers in the distance. As he passed the mass of rugged stone spires, yet more of the chalky-looking Shun-tuk emerged from the shadows to close in on both sides of him and from behind.

They were as forbidding a people as he had ever seen. All of them, even the women, were bare-chested. The most they wore above their waists were strings of beads, bones, and teeth, much of those worn around their upper arms.

All of them were smeared with a chalky white substance over every bit of skin not covered with their simple, sparse clothing. In a way, the white pigment was their dress. Most of them, including a number of the women, had shaved their heads. A few of them, including a few of the women, had topknots of hair wound with strings of bones and teeth to make the hair stand up in a plume. He didn’t know if it was a mark of rank, another method of adornment, or meant to make them look more intimidating.

Smeared in the chalky white coloring, they were an unpleasant, savage-looking lot. They looked human, but in a way they looked less than that.

They all peered at him with hungry, grim expressions. The eyes of all the Shun-tuk looked haunted, surrounded as they were with rough circles of dark, greasy soot. Some of their faces had a skull’s death grin painted over their lips and cheeks with the same dark grease, so that they looked like skulls rather than living people with flesh on their bones. It was as if they wanted to celebrate the part of them that was dead.

That made sense in view of the fact that these weren’t really living people. They were half people, part of the third kingdom that existed somewhere between life and death. These people had no souls, no connection to the Grace, no spark from Creation that would follow them through their lives and into the underworld.

For now, they existed in neither the world of life nor the world of death. They were of a third kingdom.

Richard was unhappy to know that he, too, was of that kingdom and he had the shadow of that netherworld haunting him.

It was more than unsettling to be among such a gathering of half people. These were beings who, given the chance, would fall on him, rip him apart, and devour him to try to steal his soul.

As they went deeper into the endless expanse of spiked rock sticking up from the ground everywhere, the air grew darker overhead with a hazy layer of smoke. It smelled like sulfur. It was so thick in places that Richard couldn’t see the tops of the taller rock projections.

The endless march felt like walking through a stone forest, with drifting smoke for a forest canopy. He began to spot places where that smoke was rising from cracks in the ground. The farther they went, the more prevalent the fissures became until he sometimes had to step over them and through the choking gray smoke. Green light shone up through many of those cracks, as if they were walking on rock that floated on the surface of the underworld itself.

To the sides, Richard saw openings in the craggy stone walls. Some looked shallow, but others went back into blackness. Acrid smoke rose from the cracked ground around them to add to the hazy layer overhead.

Deeper into the canyons among the stone columns, the spires began to take on the look of massive bundles of reeds that had turned to stone. Many of the individual stone rods that were bundled into the rock spires were broken off at different lengths, giving each column a jagged top. The ground was littered with those broken rodlike pieces of stone. In some places towers had fallen apart and had collapsed across the ground to leave a deep detritus that was difficult to walk through. In the distance off to the sides the columns merged together to become immense stone buttes.

As they made their way along a winding course among the network of deep, dark canyons created by the spires, Richard saw more of the Shun-tuk back in the dark recesses, peering out with those haunting, hungry, painted-on black eye sockets.

Farther into the confusing landscape, the rock changed and in among the spires was rock that looked to have once been liquid that flooded the place and then froze to stone. It was darker and full of holes. Richard saw more frequent openings in the rock. The larger masses of rock were riddled with every size of jagged hole. In places the flow of stone closed in overhead to make bridges and arches. Those, too, grew in number, creating a network of covered chasms. In places, the rock covering them thickened so that for brief spans it was like going through caves.

It felt as if the rugged landscape was bit by bit swallowing them up.

The Shun-tuk seemed to grow in number by the moment, coming out of openings in the rock to either watch, or join the procession. As they moved deeper into the snarled mass of rock, it seemed as if they began making their way through a cave system that over time had become partially exposed to the world above. The farther they went, the more the stone closed in overhead, until after a while, they were in a network of passages that were almost entirely underground. From time to time he saw gray overcast, but then they would again move into dark underground passageways.

As those passages, those holes riddling the rock, grew dark enough, torches were finally used to light the way. Eventually, as they moved deeper, the rock completely closed in overhead so that they were totally underground. Many of the grim, chalky half people brought torches with them as they emerged from holes, tunnels, and gaps everywhere in the rock.