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hand as he backed away. Kahlan couldn't make her legs move to go with him.

Richard's eyes were wide. "I killed you. I defeated you. I won. You lost."

The blond head nodded slowly. "You won a small battle, in a timeless war, by using the gift, and the Wizard's First Rule. But in your ignorance, you violated the Wizard's Second Rule, and in so doing, you have lost it all." His slow, wicked smile came back. "Such a shame. Didn't anyone ever tell you? Magic is dangerous. I could have taught you. Could have shared it all with you." He shrugged. "But it doesn't matter. You have helped me win even without being taught. I couldn't be more proud of you."

"What is the Wizard's Second Rule? What did I do!"

Rahl's eyebrows lifted as he took another step closer.

"Why, Richard, don't you know? You should," he whispered. "You have broken it a second time, today. And in violating it a second time, you have torn the veil once more, a second time, and brought me here, so that I might tear it the rest of the way and free the Keeper." His mocking smile returned. "All by yourself." He gave a taunting laugh. "My son. You should never have meddled in things you don't understand."

"What do you want!"

Rahl drifted closer. "You, my son. You." His hand began to rise toward Richard. "You sent me to another world, and now, in turn, I am going to send you there. You are for the Keeper. He wants you. You are his."

Without even realizing it, Kahlan's fist was up, the Con Dar igniting in in the depths of her being. Rage exploded through her, and blue lightning erupted from her fist. The dark void around them was ripped away in a fury of light and sound that shook the ground under her feet. The spirit house was back, lit by the blue bolt as it arced toward Darken Rahl.

Effortlessly, his hand came up, deflecting the strike. The bolt of lightning split. One shaft blasted through the roof, into the black sky, sending a shower of tile fragments raining down. The other fork struck the ground, throwing dirt hurtling everywhere.

Darken Rahl's eyes met hers. His gaze seared her very soul. He smiled the most wicked smile she had ever seen. It seemed to make ever fiber of her being ache. She tried to call forth the power again, but nothing happened. He had done something. Kahlan tried, but she couldn't move a muscle. Richard seemed as paralyzed as she.

Her world was collapsing in a frightening rush. Richard, she wailed in her mind. My Richard. Oh, dear Spirits, don't let this happen.

His eyes burning with rage, Richard managed to take a step forward, but Darken Rahl put his hand to the left side of his chest, above his heart, stopping him stone still.

"I mark you, Richard. For the Keeper. With the Keeper's mark. You are his."

Richard threw his head back. His scream seemed to rend the very fabric of the air, and tear her heart and soul with its despair. Kahlan felt as if she died a thousand deaths in that instant.

As Darken Rahl held his hand to Richard's chest, wisps of smoke curled away. Kahlan's nostrils filled with the stench of burning flesh.

Darken Rahl pulled his hand back. "The price of ignorance, Richard. You are marked. You are the Keeper's, now. Now, and forever. The journey begins."

Richard collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Kahlan didn't know if he was unconscious, or dead. Something held her up, but it wasn't her legs. It was the strings held by Darken Rahl.

He glided closer to her. He loomed over her, crushing her in blinding brilliance. Kahlan wanted to shrink away, to close her eyes, but she could not.

Finally, she regained her voice. "Kill me too," she whispered. "Send me where you have sent him. Please."

His glowing hand reached toward her. The agony in her heart tore her mind senseless. His fingers fanned open. His touch on her flesh sent fire and ice through her in a wave of shock.

The hand pulled back.

"No." Darken Rahl's pitiless smile spread anew. "No. That would be too easy. Better to let him see what happens to you. Better to let him watch, helpless." The smile showed teeth for the first time. "Better to let him suffer it." His eyes had an intensity that seemed to impale her. It was the same frightening glare Richard had inherited.

"You live, for now. Soon enough, you will twist in a different pain, living, and dead," he whispered in a measured, merciless tone. "He will watch. Forever. I will watch. Forever. The Keeper will watch. Forever."

"Please," she cried, "send me with him."

A finger reached out and touched a tear. The pain of the touch made her flinch. "Since you love him so much, I will give you a gift." He turned and drew his arm smoothly through the air in Richard's direction. His frightening blue eyes returned to her. "I will let him live a short time longer. Long enough for you to watch as the Keeper's mark bleeds the life from him. Bleeds his soul from him. Time is nothing. The Keeper will have him. I give you this spark of time in forever to watch the one you love die."

He leaned toward her. She struggled to back away, but couldn't. His lips left a kiss on her cheek. The pain of it sent a silent shriek through her and filled her mind with a vision of being raped. Luminous fingers lifted her hair from her neck. His mouth was by her ear.

"Enjoy my gift," he whispered intimately. "In time, I will have you, too. Forever. Between life and death. Forever. I would like to tell you how much you will suffer, but I am afraid you would not be able to comprehend it. Soon enough, I will show you." He gave a whispering laugh in her ear. "After I have torn the veil the rest of the way, and freed the Keeper."

As she stood helpless, he left another kiss on her neck. The horror of the visions it seared through her mind left her feeling defiled beyond anything she had thought possible. "Just a tiny taste. Good bye, for now, Mother Confessor."

As he turned from her, she was able to move again. She snatched desperately for the power. It wouldn't come. She cried and shook as she watched him glide through the doorway of the spirit house and disappear.

And then she collapsed to the ground with a wail of agony. Convulsing in ragged sobs, she clawed across the dirt to Richard.

He lay on his side, away from her. She pulled him over on his back. His arm flopped to his side, limp. His head rolled toward her. He looked ashen, dead. On his chest was a burned hand-print—the Keeper's mark. The blackened skin was cracked and bleeding. His life, his soul, was bleeding away.

She fell on him, clutched at him, as she wept and shook uncontrollably.

Kahlan gripped her fingers into a fist in his hair and pressed her face against his cold cheek. "Please, Richard," she cried in choking sobs, "please don't leave me. I would do anything for you. I would die in your place. Don't die. Don't leave me. Please, Richard. Don't die."

She crouched against him, her world ending. Dying. She could think of nothing to do, other than cry that she loved him. He was dying, and she could do nothing to stop it. She could feel his breathing slow.

She willed herself to die with him, but death wouldn't come. She lost all sense of time. She didn't know if she had been there a few minutes, or a few hours. She didn't know what was real anymore. It all felt like a nightmare. With trembling fingers, she stroked his face. His skin was dead cold.

"You would be Kahlan."

She spun around, sitting up, at the sound of the woman's voice coming from behind her. The door to the spirit house was closed again. In the darkness, a white, spiritlike glow towered over her. It appeared to be a spirit, a woman, her hands clasped in front of her. She watched with a pleasant smile. Her hair, as best as Kahlan could make of it, was plaited in a single braid.

"Who are you?"

The figure sank down to sit in front of her. The spirit had no clothes Kahlan could make out, but didn't appear to be naked either. The woman looked at Richard. A glaze of both longing and anguish came over her fair features. The spirit turned to Kahlan.

"I am Denna."

The shock of the name, and her proximity to Richard brought Kahlan's fist up in a jerk. Lightning screamed to be released. Before Kahlan could let it go, Denna spoke again.

"He is dying.

He needs us. Both of us."

Kahlan hesitated. "You can help him?"

"We both can, maybe. If you love him enough."

Kahlan's hopes flared. "I would do anything. Anything."

Denna nodded. "I hope so."

Denna looked back to Richard and tenderly stroked his chest. Kahlan was a blink away from releasing the power. She didn't know if Denna was trying to hurt him, or help him. She hoped against hope. This was her only chance to save Richard. Richard took a deep breath. Kahlan's heart leapt.

Denna withdrew her hand and smiled. "He is still with you."

Kahlan lowered her fist a little, and wiped tears from her cheek with the fingers of her other hand. She didn't like the look of longing Denna had as she watched Richard. Not one bit. "How did you get here? Richard couldn't have called you; you are not his ancestor."

Denna turned, her small, dreamy smile fading. "It would be impossible to relate it to you accurately, but perhaps I could explain it enough that it would help you to understand. I was in a place of darkness and peace. It was disturbed as Darken Rahl passed through. His passing through is something that is not supposed to happen. As he neared, I sensed that Richard had somehow called him, and enabled him to pass from where he was, held by a veil, and to come here.

"I know Darken Rahl all too well, and I knew what he would do to Richard. So I followed him. I would never have been able to pass through my own veil, but by latching on to him, I was able to come through, too, to follow in his wake. I came because I knew what Darken Rahl would do to Richard. I don't know how to explain it better."

Kahlan nodded. She wasn't seeing a spirit; she was seeing a woman who had taken Richard as her mate. The power boiled angrily inside her. She struggled to put it down, telling herself that this was to save Richard. She didn't know any other way; she had to let Denna help, if she could. Kahlan had said she would do anything, and she meant it. Even if it was not to try to kill someone who was already dead. Someone she wanted to kill a thousand times and then another thousand.


Tags: Terry Goodkind Sword of Truth Fantasy

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hand as he backed away. Kahlan couldn't make her legs move to go with him.

Richard's eyes were wide. "I killed you. I defeated you. I won. You lost."

The blond head nodded slowly. "You won a small battle, in a timeless war, by using the gift, and the Wizard's First Rule. But in your ignorance, you violated the Wizard's Second Rule, and in so doing, you have lost it all." His slow, wicked smile came back. "Such a shame. Didn't anyone ever tell you? Magic is dangerous. I could have taught you. Could have shared it all with you." He shrugged. "But it doesn't matter. You have helped me win even without being taught. I couldn't be more proud of you."

"What is the Wizard's Second Rule? What did I do!"

Rahl's eyebrows lifted as he took another step closer.

"Why, Richard, don't you know? You should," he whispered. "You have broken it a second time, today. And in violating it a second time, you have torn the veil once more, a second time, and brought me here, so that I might tear it the rest of the way and free the Keeper." His mocking smile returned. "All by yourself." He gave a taunting laugh. "My son. You should never have meddled in things you don't understand."

"What do you want!"

Rahl drifted closer. "You, my son. You." His hand began to rise toward Richard. "You sent me to another world, and now, in turn, I am going to send you there. You are for the Keeper. He wants you. You are his."

Without even realizing it, Kahlan's fist was up, the Con Dar igniting in in the depths of her being. Rage exploded through her, and blue lightning erupted from her fist. The dark void around them was ripped away in a fury of light and sound that shook the ground under her feet. The spirit house was back, lit by the blue bolt as it arced toward Darken Rahl.

Effortlessly, his hand came up, deflecting the strike. The bolt of lightning split. One shaft blasted through the roof, into the black sky, sending a shower of tile fragments raining down. The other fork struck the ground, throwing dirt hurtling everywhere.

Darken Rahl's eyes met hers. His gaze seared her very soul. He smiled the most wicked smile she had ever seen. It seemed to make ever fiber of her being ache. She tried to call forth the power again, but nothing happened. He had done something. Kahlan tried, but she couldn't move a muscle. Richard seemed as paralyzed as she.

Her world was collapsing in a frightening rush. Richard, she wailed in her mind. My Richard. Oh, dear Spirits, don't let this happen.

His eyes burning with rage, Richard managed to take a step forward, but Darken Rahl put his hand to the left side of his chest, above his heart, stopping him stone still.

"I mark you, Richard. For the Keeper. With the Keeper's mark. You are his."

Richard threw his head back. His scream seemed to rend the very fabric of the air, and tear her heart and soul with its despair. Kahlan felt as if she died a thousand deaths in that instant.

As Darken Rahl held his hand to Richard's chest, wisps of smoke curled away. Kahlan's nostrils filled with the stench of burning flesh.

Darken Rahl pulled his hand back. "The price of ignorance, Richard. You are marked. You are the Keeper's, now. Now, and forever. The journey begins."

Richard collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Kahlan didn't know if he was unconscious, or dead. Something held her up, but it wasn't her legs. It was the strings held by Darken Rahl.

He glided closer to her. He loomed over her, crushing her in blinding brilliance. Kahlan wanted to shrink away, to close her eyes, but she could not.

Finally, she regained her voice. "Kill me too," she whispered. "Send me where you have sent him. Please."

His glowing hand reached toward her. The agony in her heart tore her mind senseless. His fingers fanned open. His touch on her flesh sent fire and ice through her in a wave of shock.

The hand pulled back.

"No." Darken Rahl's pitiless smile spread anew. "No. That would be too easy. Better to let him see what happens to you. Better to let him watch, helpless." The smile showed teeth for the first time. "Better to let him suffer it." His eyes had an intensity that seemed to impale her. It was the same frightening glare Richard had inherited.

"You live, for now. Soon enough, you will twist in a different pain, living, and dead," he whispered in a measured, merciless tone. "He will watch. Forever. I will watch. Forever. The Keeper will watch. Forever."

"Please," she cried, "send me with him."

A finger reached out and touched a tear. The pain of the touch made her flinch. "Since you love him so much, I will give you a gift." He turned and drew his arm smoothly through the air in Richard's direction. His frightening blue eyes returned to her. "I will let him live a short time longer. Long enough for you to watch as the Keeper's mark bleeds the life from him. Bleeds his soul from him. Time is nothing. The Keeper will have him. I give you this spark of time in forever to watch the one you love die."

He leaned toward her. She struggled to back away, but couldn't. His lips left a kiss on her cheek. The pain of it sent a silent shriek through her and filled her mind with a vision of being raped. Luminous fingers lifted her hair from her neck. His mouth was by her ear.

"Enjoy my gift," he whispered intimately. "In time, I will have you, too. Forever. Between life and death. Forever. I would like to tell you how much you will suffer, but I am afraid you would not be able to comprehend it. Soon enough, I will show you." He gave a whispering laugh in her ear. "After I have torn the veil the rest of the way, and freed the Keeper."

As she stood helpless, he left another kiss on her neck. The horror of the visions it seared through her mind left her feeling defiled beyond anything she had thought possible. "Just a tiny taste. Good bye, for now, Mother Confessor."

As he turned from her, she was able to move again. She snatched desperately for the power. It wouldn't come. She cried and shook as she watched him glide through the doorway of the spirit house and disappear.

And then she collapsed to the ground with a wail of agony. Convulsing in ragged sobs, she clawed across the dirt to Richard.

He lay on his side, away from her. She pulled him over on his back. His arm flopped to his side, limp. His head rolled toward her. He looked ashen, dead. On his chest was a burned hand-print—the Keeper's mark. The blackened skin was cracked and bleeding. His life, his soul, was bleeding away.

She fell on him, clutched at him, as she wept and shook uncontrollably.

Kahlan gripped her fingers into a fist in his hair and pressed her face against his cold cheek. "Please, Richard," she cried in choking sobs, "please don't leave me. I would do anything for you. I would die in your place. Don't die. Don't leave me. Please, Richard. Don't die."

She crouched against him, her world ending. Dying. She could think of nothing to do, other than cry that she loved him. He was dying, and she could do nothing to stop it. She could feel his breathing slow.

She willed herself to die with him, but death wouldn't come. She lost all sense of time. She didn't know if she had been there a few minutes, or a few hours. She didn't know what was real anymore. It all felt like a nightmare. With trembling fingers, she stroked his face. His skin was dead cold.

"You would be Kahlan."

She spun around, sitting up, at the sound of the woman's voice coming from behind her. The door to the spirit house was closed again. In the darkness, a white, spiritlike glow towered over her. It appeared to be a spirit, a woman, her hands clasped in front of her. She watched with a pleasant smile. Her hair, as best as Kahlan could make of it, was plaited in a single braid.

"Who are you?"

The figure sank down to sit in front of her. The spirit had no clothes Kahlan could make out, but didn't appear to be naked either. The woman looked at Richard. A glaze of both longing and anguish came over her fair features. The spirit turned to Kahlan.

"I am Denna."

The shock of the name, and her proximity to Richard brought Kahlan's fist up in a jerk. Lightning screamed to be released. Before Kahlan could let it go, Denna spoke again.

"He is dying.

He needs us. Both of us."

Kahlan hesitated. "You can help him?"

"We both can, maybe. If you love him enough."

Kahlan's hopes flared. "I would do anything. Anything."

Denna nodded. "I hope so."

Denna looked back to Richard and tenderly stroked his chest. Kahlan was a blink away from releasing the power. She didn't know if Denna was trying to hurt him, or help him. She hoped against hope. This was her only chance to save Richard. Richard took a deep breath. Kahlan's heart leapt.

Denna withdrew her hand and smiled. "He is still with you."

Kahlan lowered her fist a little, and wiped tears from her cheek with the fingers of her other hand. She didn't like the look of longing Denna had as she watched Richard. Not one bit. "How did you get here? Richard couldn't have called you; you are not his ancestor."

Denna turned, her small, dreamy smile fading. "It would be impossible to relate it to you accurately, but perhaps I could explain it enough that it would help you to understand. I was in a place of darkness and peace. It was disturbed as Darken Rahl passed through. His passing through is something that is not supposed to happen. As he neared, I sensed that Richard had somehow called him, and enabled him to pass from where he was, held by a veil, and to come here.

"I know Darken Rahl all too well, and I knew what he would do to Richard. So I followed him. I would never have been able to pass through my own veil, but by latching on to him, I was able to come through, too, to follow in his wake. I came because I knew what Darken Rahl would do to Richard. I don't know how to explain it better."

Kahlan nodded. She wasn't seeing a spirit; she was seeing a woman who had taken Richard as her mate. The power boiled angrily inside her. She struggled to put it down, telling herself that this was to save Richard. She didn't know any other way; she had to let Denna help, if she could. Kahlan had said she would do anything, and she meant it. Even if it was not to try to kill someone who was already dead. Someone she wanted to kill a thousand times and then another thousand.


Tags: Terry Goodkind Sword of Truth Fantasy