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"And what was the dark thing?"

"I think it may be a creature from the underworld."

"From the place the shadows came from, before?" Kahlan nodded. "Why would it come now?"

"I'm sorry, Savidlin; I don't have an answer. But if any more come, tell the people to walk away from them. Don't stand still, and don't run. Just walk away, and come get me."

In silence he contemplated what she had said. At last the door squeaked open and a stooped figure flanked by two men with torches entered.

Kahlan sprang up and ran to her, taking her hand. "Nissel, thank you for coming."

Nissel smiled and patted her shoulder. "How is the arm, Mother Confessor?"

"Healed, thanks to you. Nissel, something is wrong with Richard. He has terrible headaches..."

Nissel smiled. "Yes, child. We will have a look at him."

One of the men with Nissel handed her a cloth bag as she knelt beside Richard. The objects in the bag clinked against one other as she set it on the ground. She told the man to bring the torch around. She took off the bloody bandage and, with her thumbs, pressed open the wound. Nissel glanced to Richard's face to see if he felt it. He didn't.

"I will tend to the wound first, while he sleeps."

She cleaned the gash and stitched it while Kahlan and the three men watched in silence. The torches spit and hissed, lighting the inside of the nearly empty spirit house with harsh, flickering light. On the shelf, the skulls of ancestors watched along with the rest of them.

Sometimes talking to herself as she worked, Nissel finished sewing, packed the wound with a poultice that smelled of pine pitch, and wrapped the arm with a clean bandage. Rummaging around in her bag, she told the men they could leave. As he went past, Savidlin touched Kahlan's shoulder sympathetically and told her he would see them in the morning.

After they were gone, Nissel halted her pawing in the bag and looked up at Kahlan. "I hear you are to be mated to this one." Kahlan nodded. "I thought you couldn't have a love, because you are a Confessor, that your power would take him... when you make babies."

Kahlan smiled across Richard to the old woman. "Richard is special. He has magic that protects him from my power." They both had promised Zedd they would never reveal the truth—that it was his love for her that protected him.

Nissel smiled and her weathered hand touched Kahlan's arm. "I am happy for you, child." She bent back to her bag and finally pulled out a handful of little, stoppered, pottery bottles. "Does he get these headaches often?"

"He told me he gets bad headaches sometimes, but that this is different, that it hurts more, like something is trying to get out of his head. He said he has never had any like it before. Do you think you can help him?"

"We will see." Pulling stoppers, she waved the bottles one at a time under his nose. One of them finally brought Richard awake. Nissel smelled the bottle herself to see what it was. She nodded and mumbled and went back into her bag.

"What's going on?" Richard groaned.

Kahlan bent over and kissed his forehead. "Nissel is going to do something for your headaches. Lie still."

Richard's back arched as he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain. He put his shaking fists to the sides of his head.

The healer pressed his chin down with her fingers, forcing his mouth open, and with her other hand shoved in some small leaves. "Tell him to chew. Keep chewing."

"She says to chew the leaves; they will help you."

Richard nodded and rolled to his side in agony as he chewed. Kahlan combed his hair back with her fingers, feeling helpless, wishing she could do more. It terrified her to see him in pain.

Nissel poured a liquid from a skin into a large cup and mixed into it powders from other jars. She and Kahlan helped Richard sit up to drink the concoction. When he finished, he flopped back down, breathing hard, but still chewing the leaves.

Nissel stood. "The drink will help him to sleep." Kahlan came to her feet and Nissel handed her a small bag. "Have him chew more of these leaves when he needs them. They will help the pain."

Kahlan hunched over a little, so as not to tower over the old woman quite so much. "Nissel, do you know what is wrong?"

Nissel pulled the stopper from the little bottle and sniffed it, then held it under Kahlan's nose. It smelled of lilacs and licorice. "Spirit," she said simply.

"Spirit? What do you mean?"

"It is a sickness of his spirit. Not of his blood, not of his balance, not of his air. Spirit."

Kahlan didn't know what any of that meant, but it wasn't really what she wanted to know. "Will he be all right? Will the medicine, and the leaves, will they cure him?"

Nissel smiled and patted Kahlan's arm. "I would like very much to be there when you are wed. I will not give up. If this doesn't work, there are other things to try."

Kahlan took her arm and walked her out the door. "Thank you, Nissel." Kahlan saw Chandalen standing near the short wall. Some of his men stood farther off in the darkness. Prindin was close, against the spirit house. She went to him. "Would you escort Nissel home, please?"

"Of course." He took the healer's arm respectfully and guided her into the night.

Kahlan shared a long look with Chandalen, and then went over to him. "I appreciate you and your men guarding us. Thank you."

He regarded her without emotion. "I am not standing guard for you. I am guarding our people from you. From what you may bring next."

Kahlan smiled and gave a nod. "Either way, if something else comes, don't try to kill it yourself. I don't want any Mud People to die. That includes you. If something comes, you must not stand still, or run. If you do, it will kill you. You must walk. Come and get me. Don't try to fight it by yourselves. Understand? Come and get me."

He still showed no emotion. "And you will call down more lightning?"

She looked at him cooly. "If I have to." She wondered if she could; she had no idea how she had done it. "Richard With The Temper is not well. He may not be able to shoot arrows with you and your men tomorrow."

He looked smug. "I thought he would think of an excuse to back out."

Kahlan took a deep breath through gritted teeth. She didn't want to stand here and trade insults with this fool. She wanted to go back inside to be with Richard. "Good night, Chandalen."

Richard was still on his back, chewing the leaves. She sat beside him, heartened to see that he looked more alert.

"These things are starting to taste better."

Kahlan stroked his forehead. "How do you feel?"

"A little better. The pain comes and goes. I think these leaves are helping. Except they are making my head spin."

"But better to spin than to pound?"

"Yes." He put his hand on her arm and closed his eyes. "Who were you talking to?"

"That fool, Chandalen. He's guarding the spirit house. He thinks we may bring more trouble."

"Maybe he's not such a fool. I don't think that thing would have been here without us. What did you call it?"

"A screeling."

"And what is a screeling?"

"I'm not sure. Nobody I know has ever seen one, but I've heard them described. They're supposed to be from the underworld."

Richard stopped chewing and opened his eyes to look at her. "The underworld? What do you know about this screeling thing?"

"Not much." She frowned. "Have you ever seen Zedd drunk."

"Zedd? Never. He doesn't like wine. Just food. He says that drinking interferes with thinking, and there is nothing more important than thinking." Richard smiled. "He says that the worse a man is at thinking, the better he is at drinking."

"Well, wizards can get pretty scary when they are drunk. One time when I was little, I was in the Keep, studying my languages. They have books of languages there. Anyway, I was studying, and four of the wizards were reading a book of prophecy together. It was a book I had never seen before.

"They were leaning over it, and started getting all worked up. They were talking in hus

hed tones. I could tell they were frightened. At the time it was a lot more fun to watch wizards than to read my languages.

"I looked up and they had all turned white as snow. They all stood up straight at the same time, and flipped the cover shut. I remember it banged and made me jump. They all stood there, quiet for a while, and then one went away and came back with a bottle. Without saying a word, he passed out cups and poured out the drink. They all drank it down in one swallow. He poured more and they did the same thing again. They sat down on stools around the table the big book was on and kept drinking until the bottle was empty. By that time they were pretty happy. And drunk. They were laughing and singing. I thought it was tremendously interesting. I had never seen anything like it.

"They finally saw me watching them, and called me over. I didn't really want to go, but they were wizards, and I knew them pretty well, so I wasn't afraid and I went over to them. One set me up on his knee and asked if I wanted to sing with them. I told them that I didn't know the song they were singing. They looked at each other and then said they would teach me. So we sat there for a long time and they taught me the song."

"So, do you remember it?"

Kahlan nodded. "I've never forgotten that song." She rearranged herself a little and then sang it for him.

The screelings are loose and the Keeper may win.


Tags: Terry Goodkind Sword of Truth Fantasy