They answered with another useless flight of arrows.
"This way," Richard said. "Between the buildings, where it's dark."
"Richard, that thing can see better in the dark than we can see in the light. It's from the underworld."
He kept his eyes on the screeling standing in the open, in the moonlight. "I'm listening. What else can we do?"
She shook her head. "I don't know. But don't run, and don't stand still. That attracts its attention. I think the only way to kill it may be to hack it apart."
He looked over to her, his eyes angry in the moonlight. "What do you think I've been trying to do?"
Kahlan looked around at the small passageway they were entering. "Maybe we should go through here after all. Maybe it will stay there and we can get away. If not, at least we can lead it away from the others."
The screeling watched them backing away, and then started loping after them, panting a wicked laugh.
"Nothing is ever easy," Richard muttered.
They backed through the narrow passageway of smooth, plastered walls, the screeling following. Kahlan could see the dark knot of hunters following it in; could feel the pounding of her heart.
"I wanted you to stay in the spirit house. Why didn't you stay there where you were safe?"
She recognized the tone of rage from the sword's magic. Her hand holding his shirtsleeve felt wet and warm. She looked over and saw blood running down his arm, over her hand. "Because I love you, you big ox. And don't you dare do anything like that again."
"If we get out of this alive, I'm going to put you over my knee."
They kept backing down the twisting passageway. "If we get out of this alive, I will let you. What happened to your headache?"
Richard shook his head. "I don't know. One second I could hardly breathe, and the next, it was gone. As soon as it was gone, I could feel that thing on the other side of the door, and I heard it make that awful laugh."
"Maybe you just thought you could sense it because you heard it."
"I don't know. That could be. But it was the strangest feeling."
She pulled him by his shirtsleeve down a side passage. It was darker. Moonlight fell high up on a wall to their left. With a start, she saw the dark shape of the screeling skittering across the moonlit wall, like some huge, black bug. Kahlan had to force herself to draw a breath.
"How can it do that?" Richard whispered.
She had no answer. Behind them, torches appeared. Hunters were closing in around them, trying to bottle up the attacker.
Richard looked around. "If these people try to get this thing, its going to kill the lot of them." They stepped into a moonlit intersection of passageways. "Kahlan, I can't let that happen." He looked to his right, down toward a group of hunters coming with torches. "Go to those men. Get behind them."
"Richard, I'm not leaving..."
He shoved her. "Do as I say! Now!"
His tone made her jump. Involuntarily, she backed away. Richard stood still in the moonlight, holding the sword in both hands, the tip resting on the ground. He looked up at the screeling hanging on the wall. It howled a laugh, as if suddenly recognizing the figure standing before it.
The screeling let go with its claws, dropping straight down, landing in the darkness with a thud.
Kahlan could see the angry set of Richard's jaw as he watched the blur racing toward him, kicking up a cloud of dust. The sword's tip stayed on the ground.
This can't be happening, she thought, it just can't. Not when everything is finally right. This thing could kill him. It could really kill him. It could be the end of everything. The thought stopped her breath. Her Confessor's blood-rage roared to the surface. Her flesh tingled.
The screeling sprang into the air toward Richard. The sword tip snapped upward, impaling the dark, flailing form. She could see a good foot and a half of steel sticking from its back, glinting in the moonlight. The screeling again howled its terrible laughter. It clawed at the sword, pulling itself up by the blade toward Richard. It severed some of its own clawed fingers as it clutched at the blade, thrashing ahead. Richard gave the sword a mighty swing. The screeling slid off, slamming against the wall.
Without pause it sprang for him again. Already Richard was swinging the sword. Kahlan felt a rush of panicked anger. Without even realizing what she was doing, she had her arm up, her fist toward the thing trying to kill Richard, the man she loved; the only man she would ever love.
The screeling was nearly upon him, the sword completing its swing. Kahlan felt the power surge through her in a choking rush. She released it. Eerie blue light exploded from her fist, rending the night with a blinding flash of blue daylight.
The sword and the bolt of blue lightning hit the screeling at the same time. The screeling burst apart in a shower of bloodless, black pieces. Kahlan had seen the Sword of Truth do the same thing to living flesh. She didn't know if it was the sword or the blue lightning that had done it this time.
The crack of thunder from the bolt left her ears ringing in the sudden silence.
She ran to Richard and threw her arms around him as he hunched, panting. "Are you all right?"
He hugged her with his free hand, nodding. She held him for a long minute as shouting hunters with torches circled around them. Richard slid the sword back into its scabbard. In the torchlight, she could see a ragged gash on his upper arm. She tore off a strip of his shirtsleeve and tied it around the bleeding wound.
She looked around at the hunters, all of whom held either nocked arrows or spears. "Is everyone safe?"
Chandalen stepped into the torc
hlight and spoke to Kahlan. "I knew you would bring trouble."
She peered hard at his face, then merely thanked him and his men for trying to help.
"Kahlan, what was that thing? And what in the world did you do?" Richard was slumping.
She slipped her arm around his waist. "I think it's called a screeling. And I'm not entirely sure what I did."
"A screeling? What is a..."
His hands came to the sides of his head as his eyes winced shut. He sank to his knees. Kahlan wasn't able to hold his weight. Savidlin was there and reached for him, but before he could get an arm around him, Richard fell forward on his face. He cried out in the dirt.
"Savidlin, help me get him back to the spirit house, and send someone for Nissel. Please, tell them to hurry."
Savidlin shouted for one of his men to run for the healer. He and some of the others lifted Richard. Leaning on his spear, Chandalen only watched.
A torchlit procession wound its way back to the spirit house. Savidlin and the men carrying Richard went inside with Kahlan. They laid Richard in front of the fire, lowering his head to the blanket. Savidlin sent his men out, but stayed with her.
Kahlan knelt next to Richard. With trembling hands, she felt his forehead. He was ice cold and drenched in sweat. He appeared to be nearly unconscious. She bit her lip and tried not to cry.
"Nissel will make him well," Savidlin said. "You will see. She is a good healer. She will know what to do."
Kahlan could only nod. Richard mumbled incoherently as his head twisted about, as if seeking some position that brought no pain.
They sat in silence until Savidlin asked, "Mother Confessor, what was that you did? How did you make lightning?"
"I'm not sure how I did it. But it is part of the Confessor's magic. It is called the Con Dar."
Savidlin studied her a moment as he squatted on his feet with his sinewy arms wrapped around his knees. "I never knew a Confessor could call down lightning."
She glanced over. "I have known for only a few days myself."