Stone of Tears

He grunted and then smiled. “Kill me? I don’t think so. She likes me. I saved her life. Indirectly at least.”

Kahlan bristled. Shota had once tried to bewitch him, and she didn’t like that one bit. Other than the Sisters of the Light, the witch woman was just about the last person Kahlan ever wanted to see again. “I don’t like it.”

Richard stole a quick glance at her. “If you have a better idea, put words to it.”

Kahlan let out an angry breath. “I guess we have no choice. But you just keep her hands off you.”

Richard gave her a startled look, then turned to the witch woman’s companion. “You take the lead, Samuel, and don’t forget who’s carrying the sword. And remember what I told you the last time. I might still have some Samuel stew if you try doing anything to harm us.”

Samuel eyed the blade a moment. Without another word he turned and started off, glancing over his shoulder to make sure they followed. Richard kept the sword out, slung his bow over his shoulder, and put himself between Kahlan and Samuel. The anger of the sword’s magic blazed in his eyes. Samuel loped through the grass ahead of them, turning back occasionally to hiss at them.

Kahlan stayed close on Richard’s heels. “she’d better not put snakes on me again. No snakes!” she said emphatically. “And I mean it.”

“As if we have a choice,” Richard muttered.

It was near dark by the time they reached the village. They came in from the east, and noticed immediately that the entire population of the village was clustered at the south end of the common field, shielded by armed hunters standing shoulder to shoulder. Kahlan knew the Mud People were deathly afraid of the witch woman. They wouldn’t even speak her name aloud.

For that matter, everyone she ever knew was deathly afraid of the witch woman—including her. Shota would have killed her the last time if Richard hadn’t used a wish Shota had granted him, to save her. She didn’t think Shota would be granting Richard any more wishes.

Samuel led them through the narrow passageways, toward the spirit house, walking as if he had lived here all his life. He gurgled his odd laugh as he bounded along, giving them an occasional glance. He grinned with bloodless lips, as if he knew something they didn’t. When his grin showed too many teeth and Richard prodded him with the sword, Samuel growled and hissed, his yellow eyes glowing in the fading light.

Samuel laid his long-fingered hand on the latch to the spirit house. “Pretty lady waits here. With me. Mistress wants only Seeker.”

“Richard, I’m going in too,” Kahlan said firmly.

He gave her a sidelong glance and then looked at Samuel. “Open the door.”

One powerful arm drew the door back, as shining yellow eyes glowered at him. Richard held his sword out, indicating that he wanted her to go in. The door squeaked closed behind them, with a sour-faced Samuel on the other side.

In the center of the room sat a tall, elegant throne. Torchlight danced and flared on the carved, gold-leaf vines, snakes, cats, and other beasts that covered every inch of the stately structure. A canopy draped with heavy red brocade and trimmed with gold tassels jutted out overhead. The throne itself sat atop three square, white marble platforms that served as steps. The whole thing was massive and imposing. Tufted red velvet covered the seat, the back, and the tops of the arms. Kahlan couldn’t imagine how it could have possibly fit through the door. Or how many men it must have taken to carry it.

Shota sat regally, her impassive almond eyes watching Richard. She reclined slightly, against the red velvet, one leg crossed over the other, her arms resting on the chair’s high, wide-spaced arms, with hands draped haughtily over gold gargoyles. The gargoyles licked her wrists while she clicked one long, lacquered fingernail against a thumbnail. Luxuriant auburn hair cascaded over her shoulders.

Shota redirected her ageless eyes to Kahlan. The long, rock-solid gaze felt as if it paralyzed her, penetrated her. A red, white, and black banded snake slumped down, hanging from the canopy. It flicked its tongue at Kahlan, hissing, and then dropped into Shota’s lap, coiling up like a contented cat.

It was a message to say that she had not been invited, and was now warned of what would happen if Shota became displeased. Kahlan swallowed, trying not to let it show. After what seemed an eternity, and after the witch woman seemed satisfied that the message was understood, she turned her unblinking eyes back to Richard.

“Put your sword away, Richard.” Shota’s voice was like smooth velvet rubbed the right way. Kahlan didn’t think it was fair that anyone that beautiful should also be graced with a voice that could melt butter, or a man’s heart.

“From the impression you left when we parted, I fear you might try to kill me.” His voice, also, was annoyingly smooth.