Wizard's First Rule

With her other hand she smoothly unbuttoned her shirt and pulled out the tails.

She put her hand behind his strong neck, still holding herself up, away from him, with the other on his chest. Her fingers slid into his damp hair, tightened into a fist, held his head to the ground.

A big, powerful hand slipped under her shirt, to the small of her back, stroking in little circles, then slowly slid up the line of her spine, sending shivers through her, before coming to a stop between her shoulder blades. Her eyes half closed as she flexed her back against his hand, wanting him to draw her against him. Her breathing was so fast, she was almost panting.

She drew her knee up his leg until it wouldn't go any father. Little sounds escaped with some of her breaths. His chest heaved against her hand. As he lay under her, she thought he had never seemed so big to her before.

"I want you," she panted in a breathless whisper.

Her head lowered. Her lips brushed against his.

A look of pain seemed to cross his eyes. "Only if you first tell me what you are."

The words cut through her, bringing her eyes open wide. Her head moved back a little. But she was touching him; he could not stop her, she thought. she didn't want him to stop her. She barely had a grasp on the power as it was, and it was slipping from her hold. She could feel it. She brought her lips back to his, another small sound escaping with her breath.

The hand on her back moved up under her shirt, took a fistful of her hair, gently pulling her head away.

"Kahlan, I mean it. Only if you tell me first."

Reason flooded back into her mind, washing coldly through her, drowning her passion. She had never cared for anyone like this. How could she touch him with her power? How could she do this to him? She pushed back. What was she doing? What was she thinking?

She sat back on her heels, taking her hand from his chest, putting it over her mouth. The world crashed in around her. How could she tell him'? He would hate her; she would lose him. Her head spun sickeningly.

Richard sat up, put his hand gently on her shoulder. "Kahlan," he said softly, drawing her panicked eyes to his, "you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. Only if you want to do this."

Her eyebrows wrinkled together as she tried to keep from crying. "Please." She could hardly get the words out. "Just hold me?"

He drew her tenderly to him, held her head to his shoulder. Pain, pain of who she was, reached its icy fingers back into her. His other arm wrapped protectively around her, holding her tight against him as he rocked her.

"That's what friends are for," he whispered in her ear.

She was too drained even to cry.

"I promise, Richard, I will tell you. But not tonight? Tonight, just hold me. Please?"

He slowly lay back down, embracing her tightly against him with his strong arms as she bit one of her knuckles and clutched him with her other hand.

"When you want to. Not before," he promised.

The horror of what she was wrapped her in its cold embrace, too. She shook with the chill of it. Her eyes refused to close for a long time, until at last she went to sleep, her last thoughts of him

CHAPTER 28

TRY ONCE MORE, " THE Bird Man said. "And stop thinking of the bird you want"-he tapped Richard's head with his knuckles — "from here. " He jabbed a finger in Richard's abdomen. "Think of it here!"

Richard nodded at Kahlan's translation and put the whistle to his lips. His cheeks puffed out as he blew. As usual, there was no sound. The Bird Man, Richard, and Kahlan looked around the flat country. The hunters who had escorted them out onto the plain, their heads swiveling nervously, leaned against spears planted point up in the grassy ground.

Seemingly from nowhere, starlings, sparrows, and small field birds, thousands of them, descended, diving and swooping, on the small company. The. hunters ducked, laughing, as they had all day, The air was filled with small birds flying wildly about in a frenzy. The sky was black with them. The hunters fell to the ground, covering their heads, laughing hysterically. Richard rolled his eyes. Kahlan turned her face from him as she laughed. The Bird Man frantically put his own whistle to his lips and blew over and over again, his silver hair flying, trying desperately to send the birds back. At last they heeded his calls and vanished once more. Quiet returned to the grassland except, of course, for the hunters, who still rolled on the ground in laughter.

The Bird Man took a deep breath and put his hands on his hips. "I give up. We have been trying all day, and it is the same now as when we started. Richard With The Temper," he announced. "You are the worst bird caller I have ever seen. A child could learn it in three tries, but there is not enough breath in you for the rest of your life to learn. It is hopeless. The only thing your whistle says is, `Came, there is food here. »

"But I was thinking `hawk, I really was. Every kind of bird you named, I thought it hard as I could, honest."