rd's gift. "Just make it quick," he told Nathan. Nathan smiled that Rahl smile of his. "Come on, then. We'll have your gift back to right in no time at all." "Thank you, Nathan," Richard mumbled as he let the big man help him through a nearby doorway. CHAPTER 60 Richard sat cross-legged on the wood floor facing Nathan. The barren room had no furniture. Nathan said none was needed, that the floor was fine with him. Ann, not far away, sat on the floor as well. Richard was a little surprised that Nathan was allowing her to observe, but didn't question it. There was the possibility that he might want to have her help for some part of it. Everyone else waited outside. Cara wasn't happy about allowing Richard out of her sight, but Richard calmed her concern by telling her that he would feel more comfortable and able to concentrate on correcting the problem with his gift if he knew she was outside keeping an eye on everything for him. The two windows had been shuttered, allowing in only dim light and keeping out most of the noise. With his hands on his knees, the prophet pushed his back straighter and, drawing a deep breath, seemed to pull an aura of authority around himself. Nathan was the one who had first taught Richard about his gift, telling him how war wizards, like Richard, weren't like other wizards. Instead of tapping the core of power within themselves, they directed their intent through their feelings. It had been a difficult concept to grasp. Nathan had told Richard that his power worked through anger. "Lose yourself in my eyes," Nathan said in a quiet voice. Richard knew he had to try to put his worry for Kahlan aside. Trying to keep his breathing steady so as not to cough, he stared into Nathan's hooded, deep, dark, azure eyes. Nathan's gaze drew him in. Richard felt as if he were falling up into the clear blue sky. His breath came in ragged pulls, and not of his own doing. He felt Nathan's commanding words more than heard them. "Call forth the anger, Richard. Call forth the rage. Call forth the hate and fury." Richard's head was swimming. He concentrated on calling his anger. He thought about Nicholas having Kahlan and he had no trouble summoning rage. He could feel another force within his own, as if he were drowning and someone were trying to hold his head above water. He drifted, alone, in a dark and still place. Time seemed to mean nothing. Time. He had to get to Kahlan in time. He was her only chance. Richard opened his eyes. "Nathan, I'm sorry, but..." Nathan was drenched in sweat. Ann was sitting beside him, holding Richard's left hand, Nathan his right. Richard wondered what had happened. Richard looked from one face to the other. "What's wrong?" They both looked grim. "We tried," Nathan whispered. "I'm sorry, but we tried." Richard frowned. They had only just begun. "What do you mean? Why are you giving up so soon?" Nathan cast a sidelong glance at Ann. "We've been at it for two hours. Richard." "Two hours?" "I'm afraid there is nothing I can do, my boy." By the sound of his voice, he meant it. Richard ran his fingers back through his hair. "What are you talking about? You're the one who told me the last time, when I had this problem, joining with a wizard would set it straight. You said it was a simple matter for a wizard to fix such a disharmony with the gift." "That's the way it should be. But your gift is somehow tangled up into a knot that's strangling you." "But you're a prophet, a wizard. Ann, you're a sorceress. Together you both probably know more about magic than anyone who has lived in thousands of years." "Richard, there has not been another born like you in the last three thousand years. We don't know that much about how your particular gift works." Ann paused to push stray strands of gray hair back into the bun at the back of her head. "We tried, Richard. I swear to you, we both tried our best. Your gift is beyond Nathan's help, even with my ability enhancing his power. We tried everything we know, and even a few things we thought up. None of it had any effect. We cannot help you." "So, what must I do?" Nathan's azure eyes turned away. "Your gift is killing you, Richard. I don't know the cause, but I'm afraid that it has spiraled into a phase that is out of control and fatal." Ann's eyes were wet. "Richard ... I'm so sorry." Richard looked from one distraught face to the other. "I guess it doesn't really matter," Richard said. Nathan frowned. "What do you mean it doesn't matter?" Richard rose up, groping for the wall to keep his balance. "I've been poisoned. The antidote is gone.... There is no cure. I'm afraid that I'm running out of time. I guess the joke is on my gift--something else is going to get me first." Ann stood and gripped his upper arms. "Richard, we can't help you right now, but you can at least rest while we try to figure out--" "No." Richard waved off her concern. "No. I can't waste what little time I have left. I have to get to Kahlan." Ann cleared her throat. "Richard, at the Palace of the Prophets, Nathan and I waited for your birth for a very long time. We worked to clear those obstacles that Prophecy showed us lay in your path. The prophecies name you as central to the course of the future of the world. In fact, they say you are the only one with a chance; we need you to lead us in this battle. "We don't know what is wrong with your gift, but we can work on You must be here so that if we come up with a solution, we can set your power right." "I'll not live for you to cure me. Don't you see? The poison is killing me. It has three states. I'm already entering the third state: blindness. I'm going to die. I must use what time I have left to find Kahlan. You aren't going to have me to lead you, but if I can get her away from Nicholas, you will have her to lead the struggle in my place." "You know where she is, then?" Nathan asked. Richard realized that in the state of focused, concentrated thought, as he was adrift in that quiet place while Nathan was trying to help him, it had come to him where Nicholas most likely had taken Kahlan. He had to get there while Nicholas was still there with her. "Yes, I believe I do." Richard pulled open the door. Cara, sitting right outside, shot to her feet. Her expectant expression quickly withered when he shook his head, signaling that it hadn't worked. "We have to get going. Right away. I think I know where Nicholas took Kahlan. We have to hurry." "You know?" Jennsen asked, holding Betty close by the rope. "Yes. We need to leave at once." "Where is she, then?" Jennsen asked. Richard gestured. "Owen, remember how you told us about a fortified encampment the Imperial Order built when they first came to Ban-dakar and they were worried about their safety?" "Back near my town," Owen said. Richard nodded. "That's right. I think Nicholas took Kahlan there. It's a secure place they built to hold some of the women captive. There would be plenty of soldiers to protect him and it's the kind of place built specifically to be defensible, so it would be much more difficult to approach than his place, here, in the city." "Then how will we approach it?" Jennsen asked. "We'll have to figure that out once we get there and see the place." Nathan joined Richard at the door. "Ann and I will go with you. We might be able to help rescue Kahlan from the Slide. While we travel the two of us can work on a solution for untangling your gift." Richard gripped Nathan's shoulder. "There are no horses in this land. If you can run and keep up with us, you're welcome, but I can't afford to slow for you. I don't have much time, and neither does Kahlan. Nicholas will not likely hold her there long. After he pauses for rest and supplies and then leaves this land, it will be even more difficult to find him. We have no time to lose. We're going to have to travel as swiftly as possible." Nathan's eyes turned down in disappointment. Ann drew Richard into a brief hug. "We're far too old to keep up the speed afoot that you and these young people can. When you get her away from the Slide, come back and we'll do our best to help you. We'll work on the problem while you're getting her out of his clutches. Come back then, and we'll have a solution." Richard knew that he would never live that long, but there was no point in saying it. "All right. What can you tell me about a Slide?" Nathan drew his thumb along his jaw as he considered the question. "Slides are soul stealers. There is no defense against them. Even I would be powerless to stop them." Richard didn't suppose that needed any explanation. "Cara, Jennsen, Tom, you can come with me." "What about us?" Owen asked. Anson stood close by, looking eager to be included, and nodded at Owen's suggestion. There were others as well, who had stood vigil outside the place where Nathan had tried to help Richard. They were all men who had fought hard. If he was to get Kahlan back, he would likely need some men, at least. "Your help would be welcome. I think most of the men should stay here with Nathan and Ann. The people here in Hawton need to have you men explain everything to them--help them to understand all that you've learned. They will need to make some changes to adjust to interacting with the world out there now open to them." As Richard started away, Nathan grabbed ahold of his sleeve. "Richard, as far as I know, you have no defense against a soul stealer, but there is one thing I recall from an old tome in the vaults in the Palace of the Prophets." "I'm listening." "They somehow travel outside their body ... send their own spirit out." Richard rubbed his fingertips across his brow as he thought about Nathan's words. "That has to be how he was watching me, tracking me. I believe he watched me through the eyes of huge birds that live here, called black-tipped races. If what you're saying is right, then maybe he leaves his body in order to do this." Richard looked up at Nathan. "How does this help me?" Nathan leaned closer, cocking his head to peer with one azure eye. "That is when they are vulnerable--when they are out of their body." Richard lifted his sword a few inches in the scabbard to be sure it was clear. "Any idea how to catch him outside of his body?" He let the sword drop back. Nathan straightened. "Afraid not." Richard nodded his thanks anyway and stepped down out of the doorway. "Owen, how far is this fortified encampment?" "Back close to where the path used to go out through the boundary." That was why Richard hadn't seen it; they had come on the ancient route used by Kaja-Rang. Ordinarily, it would be a journey of well over a week. They didn't have nearly that long. He took in all the faces watching him. "Nicholas has quite a head start on us and he will be in a hurry to escape with his prize. If we travel swiftly and don't stop long to rest, there's a good chance we can still catch up with him by the time he reaches their encampment. We need to be on our way at once." "We're only waiting for you, Lord Rahl," Cara said. So was Kahlan. CHAPTER 61 Each day of hard travel, Richard's condition worsened, but his fear for Kahlan drove him relentlessly onward. Most of the time, hour after hour, through sunlight, darkness, and occasional rain, they ran at a steady lope. Richard used a staff he'd cut himself to help keep his balance. When he thought he would be unable to go on, Richard deliberately picked up the pace to remind himself that he could not give up. They stopped at night only long enough to get a few hours' sleep. The men had trouble keeping up with him. Cara and Jennsen didn't; they were both used to strenuous exertion in the course of difficult journeys. All of them, though, were so exhausted from the unrelenting pace that they talked only when necessary. Richard drove himself doggedly, trying not to think about his own hopeless condition. It didn't matter. He reminded himself that with every step they ran, if it was fast enough, they were gaining on Nicholas and just that much closer to Kahlan. In moments of despair, Richard told himself that Kahlan had to be alive, that Nicholas could have killed her long ago if that was his intention. He wouldn't have run if she were dead. Kahlan would be much more valuable to him alive. In a way, he felt an odd kind of relief. He could push as hard as he needed. He didn't have to worry about his health. There was no antidote to the poison. Given the time, it would kill him. There was no solution to the problem of his gift being out of control; that, too, would kill him. There was nothing Richard could do about either. He was going to die. The wooded hills were easy enough traveling. They were open, with broad, green meadows sprinkled with wildflowers and a patchwork of grassland. Wildlife was abundant. Were he not dying, in pain, and sick with worry for Kahlan, Richard might have enjoyed the beauty of the land. Now it was just an obstacle. The sun in his eyes was slipping down behind the towering mountains. Soon darkness would be upon them. A little earlier, Richard had used his bow to take a buck when the opportunity presented itself. Tom had made quick work of butchering it. The rest of them needed to eat, or they would not be able to keep up the pace. Richard supposed that they would have to stop for a while to cook the meat and get some sleep. Owen came up beside Richard as they trotted through a sea of grass rolling beneath the breeze. Owen pointed ahead. "There, Lord Rahl. That stream coming out of the hills is getting close to the Order's encampment. Just a little farther, over that line of hills and toward the mountains." He pointed to the right. "Off that way, not far, is my town of Witherton." Richard changed his course a little to the left, heading for the woods that started at the foot of a gentle rise. They made the trees just as the orange disc of the sun slipped behind the snowcapped mountains. "All right," Richard said, coming to a breathless halt as they entered a small clearing. "Let's set up camp here. Jennsen, Tom, why don't you two and the men stay here--get some meat cooking while I go with Owen and Cara to scout this fortification and see if I can figure out how we're going to get in." When Richard started out, using his staff to help balance, Betty started following him. Jennsen snatched Betty's rope. "Oh, no you don't," Jennsen said. "You're staying here. Richard doesn't need you tagging along to attract attention at the worst possible time." "What should we make for you to eat, Lord Rahl?" Tom asked. Richard couldn't stand the thought of eating meat. After all the bloody fighting, he needed to balance his gift more than ever. His gift was killing him, but if he did the wrong thing it might hasten the end and then he might not last long enough to get Kahlan away from Nicholas. "Whatever we have that isn't meat. You have time before we come back, so you can cook some bannock, some rice, maybe some beans." Tom agreed to take care of it and Richard followed after Owen. Cara, looking more unhappy than he could ever remember seeing her, put a hand on his shoulder. "How are you holding up, Lord Rahl?" He dared not tell her how much pain he was in from the gift, or that he had started to cough up blood. "I'm all right for now." By the time they dragged back into their camp, almost two hours later, the meat on the spit was finished cooking and some of the men had already eaten. They were just curling up in blankets to get some sleep. Richard was beyond being tired. He was certain that they had been close to Kahlan. It had been agonizing to have to return, to leave the place where Nicholas held her, but he had to use his head. Wild, irrational action would bring only failure. It would not get Kahlan out of there. Richard was being driven by needs beyond food or sleep, but as he watched Owen sit heavily near the fire, he knew that Owen and Cara were exhausted and he imagined that they had to be hungry. Rather than sit, Cara waited at his side. She would not allow him to get far from her watchful protection. Nor would she voice any concern for herself or her needs. He could never have imagined, back in the beginning, ever feeling this close to a Mord-Sith. Jennsen stood and rushed to meet him. "Richard--here, let me help you. Come and sit." Richard flopped down on the grass near the fire. Betty came over and begged a place beside him. He let her lie down. "Well?" Tom asked. "What do you think of the place?" "I don't know. It has well-made timber walls with trenches dug before them. There are snares and traps all around the place. It has a gate--a real gate." Richard sighed as he rubbed his eyes. His sight was getting blurry. It was getting more difficult all the time to see things. "I haven't quite figured it out, yet." It was hard to think with the smell of the cooking meat. It was making him sick. Richard took a piece of bannock and the bowl of rice and beans Jennsen handed him. He couldn't eat while watching them eat the meat or, worse, smelling it. Richard stood. "I'm going to go for a walk." He didn't want to make them feel bad about their dinner, or feel guilty for eating meat in front of him. "I need some time alone to think it out." Richard gestured for Cara to sit back down and stay where she was. "Get some dinner," he told her. "I need you to stay strong." Richard walked off through the trees, listening to the chirp of crickets, watching the stars through the canopy of leaves. It was a relief to be alone, not to have people asking him anything. It was tiring to have people always depending on him. Richard found a quiet place where an old oak had fallen. He sat and leaned back against the trunk. He wished he never had to get up. If not for Kahlan, he wouldn't. Betty showed up. She stood before him, looking at him intently as if to ask what they were going to do next. When Richard said nothing, Betty lay down in front of him. It occurred to him that maybe Betty just wanted to offer him some comfort. Richard felt a tear run down his cheek. Everything was falling to pieces. He couldn't hold those pieces together any longer. He could hardly breathe past the lump in his throat. He lay down and put an arm over Betty. "What am I going to do?" He sniffled. He wiped the back of his hand across his nose. "Kahlan, what am I going to do?" he whispered in forlorn misery. "I need you so much. What am I going to do?" He was at the end of all hope. He had thought, when he'd seen Nathan unexpectedly arrive, that help was at hand. The bright ember of that last hope had been extinguished. Not even a powerful wizard could help him. Powerful wizard. Kaja-Rang. Richard froze. The words sent to him by Kaja-Rang, those two words emblazoned across the granite base of that statue, echoed through his mind. Those two words were meant for Richard. Taiga Vassternich. Deserve Victory. "Dear spirits ..." Richard whispered. He understood. CHAPTER 62 Nicholas watched as Lord Rahl made his way back into the camp among his men after his despairing whispered last prayer to the dear spirits. So sad. So very sad hat the man was going to die. He would soon be with his dear spirits ... in the Keeper's realm of the underworld. Nicholas relished the game. The poor Lord Rahl was so lost and confused. Nicholas wished the game could continue for a good long time, but Lord Rahl had little time left. So sad. But it would be much more fun after Lord Rahl died, after that last detail was finally finished. Jagang thought this pathetic man was resourceful. Don't underestimate him, Jagang had warned. Perhaps Jagang was no match for the great Richard Rahl, but Nicholas the Slide was. His spirit swelled with delight at the expectant thought of Lord Rani's death. That was going to be something to watch. It would be a grand finale of the play of life. Nicholas intended to see it all, to see every sad moment of the last act. He imagined that Lord Rahl's friends would gather to weep and wail as they stood by, helpless, watching him slip into the welcoming embrace of death, eternity's shepherd, come to help him begin the magnificent, never-ending spiritual journey away from the bitter interlude that had been life.The final curtain was about to draw closed. Nicholas so loved sad endings. He could hardly wait to watch it played out. Hate to live, live to hate. Nicholas wondered, too, as did Lord Rahl, what would get him first, the poison or his gift. It seemed to tug first toward one, and then toward the other. For a time the headaches inflicted by his gift nearly put him down; then the poison would tighten its pain and make him gasp in agony. It was a fascinating question, one that, as in any good play, would not be answered until the very end. The tension was delicious. Nicholas was rooting for the gift to win the fatal contest. Poison was all well and good, but what a vastly more intriguing twist of fate it would be to see a wizard of Lord Rahl's ability and potential, a wizard unlike any to be born since an era long buried in the dunghill of mankind's history, succumb to his birthright--to his own vast but vain power .. . another victim of men reaching too high in life. That would be a fascinating and fitting end. Not long to wait. Not long at all. Nicholas watched, not wanting to miss a single delectable detail. With the spirit of Richard Rahl's lovely bride beside him, as it were, Nicholas felt almost a part of the family as he attended the approach of such a great man's tragic end. Nicholas felt it only fair that the Mother Confessor should get to see it all played out, see the sad end to her beloved. As she watched along with Nicholas, she was suffering seeing the agony of it as Richard Rahl walked back into his camp. Nicholas savored her distress. He had not yet begun to make her suffer. He would soon have a very long time with her to explore her capacity for suffering. The people there in the woods around the campfire looked up, curious as their master returned among them. They all waited, with Nicholas, watching, with Nicholas, as their Lord Rahl stood over them. His figure wavered in the fire, as it did in Nicholas's vision. It was almost as if he were already but a spirit, about to drift away into the glorious oblivion of the dead. "I've figured it out," Lord Rahl told them. "I know how to attack the fortification." Nicholas's ears pricked up. What was this? "At first light we go in," Lord Rahl said. "Just as the sun breaks over the mountains. Right then, on the east side, we'll come in over the wall. The guards won't be able to see well because the sun will be in their eyes when they look in that direction. Men don't look where it's troublesome to look." "I like it," one of the other men said. "So we will sneak in, then, rather than try to attack," another said. "Oh, no, there will be an attack," Lord Rahl said. "A big attack. An attack that will set their heads to spinning." What was this? What was this? Nicholas watched, watched, watched. This was most curious. First Lord Rahl was going to sneak over the wall, and then he would have his men attack? How was he going to set their heads to spinning? Nicholas was fascinated. He moved in a little closer, fearing to miss a precious word. "The attack will involve all the rest of you men," Lord Rahl said. "You will all come in toward the gate at first light. While you're attacking through the gate and drawing their attention, I will be slipping over the wall. While you will be there to distract them, in part, you will play an even more vital role that they will never expect." The game was afoot. Nicholas was in rapture as he listened, as he watched. He so liked the game--especially when he knew all the rules, and could bend them to his wishes. It was going to be a glorious day, tomorrow. "But, Lord Rahl," the big man, Tom, asked, "how are we going to be able to attack through the gate if it's as formidable as you say?" Nicholas hadn't thought of that. How curious. A key part of Lord Rahl's plan seemed to be faulty. "That's the real trick," Lord Rahl said. "I've already figured it out and you'll be amazed to hear how you're going to do it." He had already figured it out? How curious. Nicholas wanted to hear what possible solution could solve such a major hitch in Lord Rahl's plan. Lord Rahl stretched and yawned. "Look," he said, "I'm exhausted. I can't stand up anymore. I need to get some rest before I lay it all out for you. It's complicated, so I'd better wait until just before we leave. "Wake me up two hours before dawn, and I'll explain the whole thing, then." "Two hours before dawn," Tom repeated in confirmation of the orders. Nicholas was furious. He wanted to hear it now. He wanted to know the wonderful, fabulous, complicated plan. Lord Rahl gestured to his delicious companion, the one named Cara, and then to several of the young men. "Why don't you come with me and get some sleep while the rest finish their meal." As they started away, Lord Rahl turned back. "Jennsen, I want you to keep Betty here, with you. Make sure she stays here. I need some sleep; I don't need the smell of goat to wake me up." "Am I going with you in the morning, Richard?" the one called Jennsen asked. "Yes. You play an important part in the plan." Lord Rahl yawned again. "I'll explain after I've slept. Don't forget, Tom. Two hours before dawn." Tom nodded. "I will wake you myself, Lord Rahl." Nicholas would be there as well, to watch, to hear the final piece of Lord Rahl's plan. Nicholas could hardly stand to wait that long. He would be there early. He would hear every word of it. And then, Nicholas would have a surprise waiting for Richard Rahl when he and his men came for a visit. Maybe neither the poison nor his gift would take Lord Rahl. Maybe Nicholas would do it himself. Her spirit a helpless prisoner of the Slide, Kahlan could do nothing but watch along with him. She was unable to answer Richard's forlorn pleas, unable to cry in sorrow for him, unable to do anything. She ached to be able to hold him in her arms again, to comfort his pain, his heartache. He was near the end. She knew that. It broke her heart to see his precious life slipping away. To see his tears. To hear him cry her name in longing. To hear him say how much he needed her. She felt so cold and alone. She loathed the feeling of being adrift. She desperately wanted to be back in her body. It waited somewhere back in a lonely room in the fortified encampment. Nicholas's body waited there, too. If only she could get back there. Most of all, she wished there were some way she could warn Richard that Nicholas knew his plan. CHAPTER 63 Nicholas lay in wait in the camp, sniffing, listening, watching, eager for the game to continue. He had come early, fearing to miss anything. He was sure it had to be two hours before dawn--time for the last act of the play. It was time for the man, Tom, to wake Lord Rahl. It was time. Watch, watch, watch. Where was he? Somewhere, somewhere. Look, look, look. Men off through the trees stood guard over the camp. Where was Tom? There he was. Nicholas saw that Tom was one of the men standing vigil as others slept. Didn't want to be late. Lord Rahl's orders. He wasn't sleeping, he was awake, so he should know it was time. What was the man waiting for? His master had given him a command. Why wasn't he doing as he had been told? The woman, Jennsen, woke and rubbed her eyes. She looked up and took appraisal of the stars and moon. It was time--she knew it was. She threw off her blanket. Nicholas followed behind as she rushed past the low glow of the smoldering embers, rushed through the stand of young trees, rushed to the big man leaning against a stump. "Tom, isn't it time to wake Richard?" Somewhere back in a distant room in the fortification, where his body waited, Nicholas heard an insistent noise. He was absorbed in the task at hand, in the game, so he ignored the sound. Probably Najari. The man was eager to have a chance to get at the Mother Confessor, a chance to enjoy her more feminine charms. Nicholas had told Najari that he would have his chance, but he had to wait until Nicholas returned. Nicholas didn't want the man tampering with her body while they were gone. Najari sometimes didn't know his own strength. The Mother Confessor was valuable property and Nicholas didn't want that property damaged. Najari had proven to be a loyal man and deserved a small reward, but not until later. He would not disobey Nicholas's orders. He would be sorry if he did. Maybe it was just-- Wait, wait. What was this? Watch, watch, watch. The man stood and put a hand reassuringly on the young woman's shoulder. How very touching. "Yes, I guess it is about time. Let's go wake Lord Rahl." Again the noise. Stealthy, sharp yet soft. Most odd. But it would have to wait. Through the woods. Hurry. Watch, watch, watch. Hurry. Couldn't they move faster? Didn't they grasp the importance of the occasion? Hurry, hurry, hurry. "Betty," the Jennsen woman growled, "stop bumping my legs." Again there was a skulking sound back somewhere with his body. And then, another, more urgent sound. This time, the sound ran a sharp shiver through Nicholas's very soul. It was as deadly a sound as he had ever heard. As the Sword of Truth cleared its scabbard, the distinctive ring of steel filled the dimly lit room. With the sword came ancient magic, unhindered, unrestrained, unleashed. The sword's power instantly inundated Richard with its boundless fury, a fury that answered only to him. The force of that power flooded into every fiber of his being. It had been so long since he had truly felt it, truly felt the full magnitude of it, that for an instant Richard paused in the exaltation of the profound experience of simply holding such a singular weapon. His own righteous wrath had already slipped its bounds. Joined now with the pure rage of the Sword of Truth, both spiraled through him like twin storms rampaging unchecked. Richard gloried that they could, and at being the ultimate master of both. The Seeker of Truth willed both storms ever onward even as the sword began its fearsome journey, the merciless lightning of those thun-derheads about to strike. The tip of the blade whistled though the night air, still two hours before dawn. Hesitant and uncertain, Nicholas watched as the man, Tom, and the Jennsen woman moved through the woods to awaken their dying Lord Rahl. Somewhere back in a distant room in the fortification, where his body waited, Nicholas heard a scream. It was not a scream of fear, but a riotous cry of unbridled rage. It sent a shiver through his soul. With sudden alarm, knowing that it could not be ignored, Nicholas slammed back into his body where it sat on the floor, waiting for him. Unsteady from the abrupt return, Nicholas blinked as he opened his eyes. Lord Rahl himself stood before him, feet spread, both hands gripping his sword. It was a picture of sheer muscular force focused by terrifying resolve. Nicholas's eyes went wide at seeing the gleaming blade arcing through the still air. Lord Rahl was in the midst of a scream of startling power and rage. Every bit of his might was committed to the swing of his sword. Nicholas had a sudden and completely unexpected realization: he didn't want to die. He very much wanted to live. As much as he hated life, he realized, now, that he wanted to hold on to it. He had to act. He summoned his power, rallied his will. He had to stop this avenging soul before him. He reached out with his power to seize this other's spirit. He felt the horrifying shock of a staggering blow against the side of his neck. Richard was still screaming as his sword, with every ounce of power and speed he could put behind it, swept around, just clearing the top of Nicholas's left shoulder. Richard saw every detail as the blade tore through flesh and bone, turning muscle, tendon, arteries, and windpipe inside out, following with precision the path to which the Seeker had justly committed it. Richard had dedicated everything to the swift journey of his sword. Now, he watched as that journey reached its destination, as the blade cleared the neck of Nicholas the Slide, as the man's head, its mouth still opened in the beginning of shock not fully comprehended, his beady eyes still trying to grasp the totality of what they were seeing, lifted into the air, beginning to turn ever so slowly as the sword below it passed along its deadly arc, as curved ropes of the man's blood began tracing a long wet line across the wall behind him. Richard's scream ended as the sword's swing reached its limit. The world came crashing back around him. The head hit the floor with a loud, bone-cracking thunk. It was ended. Richard recalled the rage. He had to get it under control immediately. He had something yet more important to accomplish. In one fluid motion, Richard slid the bloody blade home into its scabbard as he turned to the second body leaned up against the wall to the right. The sight of her almost overcame him. To see her there, alive, breathing, seemingly unhurt, brought a wild rush of joy. His worst fears, fears he would not even allow into his conscious mind, evaporated in an instant. But then he realized that she was not all right. She could not have slept through such an attack. Richard fell to his knees and took her up in his arms. She felt so light, so limp. Her face was ashen and beaded with sweat. Her eyelids were half closed, her eyes rolled back in her head. Richard sank back within himself, seeking strength to bring back the one he loved more than life itself. He opened his soul to her. All he wanted, all he needed, as he held her to him, was for her to live, to be whole. Instinctively, in a way he did not fully understand, he let his power well up from a place deep inside his mind. He released himself into the torrent as it rushed onward. He let his love of her, his need of her, flood through their connection as he hugged her to his breast. "Come home to where you belong," he whispered to her. He let the core of his power course through her, intending it to be like a beacon to light her way. It felt as if he were searching through the dark, using the light of ability from deep within to help him. Even though he couldn't define the precise mechanism, he could consciously focus his purpose, his need, and what he wanted to accomplish. "Come home to me, Kahlan. I'm here." Kahlan gasped. Even though she hung limp, he felt the intensity of the life in his arms. She gasped again, as if she had nearly drowned and needed air. At last, she stirred in his arms, her limbs moving,' groping. She opened her eyes, blinking, and looked up. Astonished, she sank back into his arms. "Richard ... I heard you. I was so alone. Dear spirits, I was so alone. I didn't know what to do.... I heard Nicholas scream. I was lost and alone. I didn't know how to get back. And then I felt you." She embraced him tightly, as if she never wanted to let go. "You led me back through the darkness." Richard smiled down at her. "I'm a guide, remember?" She puzzled at him. "How could you do that?" Her beautiful green eyes opened expectantly. "Richard, your gift..." "I figured out the problem with my gift. Kaja-Rang had given me the solution. I'd had the solution long before that, but I never realized it. My gift is fine, now, and the sword's power works again. I was being so blind that I will be ashamed to tell it all to you." Richard's breath caught, and he coughed, then, unable to hold it back any longer. Nor could he hold back grimacing at the pain. Kahlan gripped his arms. "The antidote--what happened to the antidote! I sent it back with Owen. Didn't you get it?" Richard shook his head as he coughed again, the pain feeling as though it ripped him deep inside. He finally regained his breath. "Well, now, that is a problem. It wasn't the antidote. It was just water with a bit of cinnamon in it." Kahlan's face went ashen. "But. .." She looked over at Nicholas's body, at his head lying upended at the end of a bloody trail across the floor. "Richard, if Nicholas is dead, how are we going to get the antidote?" "There isn't any antidote. Nicholas wanted me dead. He would have destroyed the antidote long ago. He gave you a fake to be able to capture you." Her face had gone from joy to horror. "But, without the antidote ..." CHAPTER 64 There's no time to worry about the poison just now," Richard told her as he helped her to her feet. No time? She watched his step falter as he made his way across the room. He groped for the window ledge. At the small window opening in the outer wall of the fortification he signaled with the high, clear whistle of the common wood pewee-- the whistle Cara thought was that of the mythical short-tailed pine hawk. "I used a ladder pole," he explained. "Cara is on her way." Kahlan tried to make her way over to him, but her body felt alarmingly unfamiliar to her. She staggered a couple of steps, her legs moving woodenly. She had the urge to get down on her hands and feet to walk. She felt like a stranger inside her own skin. It seemed foreign to have to breathe on her own, to have to look through her own eyes, to have to listen through her own ears. It was a strange, haunting sensation to feel her clothes against her skin. Richard held out his hand to help steady her. Kahlan thought that as wobbly as she was, she might still be more steady on her feet than Richard. "We're going to have to fight our way out," he said, "but we'll have some help. I'll get you the first sword I can." " Richard blew out the flame of the single candle before a tin reflector on a small shelf. "Richard, I'm not yet used to being . . . back inside myself. I don't think I'm ready to go out there. I can hardly walk." "We don't have a lot of choice. We have to get out. Learn as you go. I'll help you." "You can hardly walk yourself." Cara, at the top of a pole ladder Richard had cut, leaned forward and wriggled in through the small window. Halfway in, Cara gaped in delighted wonder. "Mother Confessor-- Lord Rahl did it." "You don't need to sound so surprised," Richard griped as he helped the Mord-Sith the rest of the way in. Cara only briefly took note of the dead man sprawled across the floor before Kahlan threw her arms around the woman. "You can't imagine how glad I am to see you," Cara said. "Well, you can't imagine how glad I am to see you through my own eyes." "If only the trade you made had w