Wizard's First Rule

The doll just smiled. Rachel smiled back.

She thought about the new little boy she had seen the Queen having locked up. He talked funny, and looked funny, but his presence still had reminded her of her brother. That was because he seemed so afraid. Her brother was always getting afraid, too. Rachel could always tell when her brother was getting afraid because he would fidget and squirm. She felt so sorry for the new boy; she wished she was important so she could help him.

Rachel put her hands toward the fire to warm them for a minute, then stuck one in her pocket. She was hungry. A few berries were all she had been able to find to eat. She held a big one out, offering it to her doll. The doll didn't seem hungry, so she ate it herself, then a handful more, until they were gone. She was still hungry, but she didn't want to look for more. The place where they grew wasn't close, and it was getting dark. She didn't want to be out in the woods when it was dark. She wanted to be in her wayward pine with her doll. By the warm fire; by the light.

"Maybe the Queen will be nicer when she gets her alliance, whatever that is. That's all she talks about, how she wants her alliance. Maybe she'll be happier then, and won't say to chop off people's heads. The Princess makes me go with her, you know, but I don't like to watch, I close my eyes. Now even Princess Violet says to chop off people's heads. She gets meaner every day. Now I'm afraid that she'll say to chop off my head. I wish I could run away." She looked over at her doll. "I wish I could run away and never come back. And I'd take you with me."

The doll smiled. "I love you, Rachel."

She picked up the doll and gave it a long hug, then kissed it on its head.

"But if we run away, Princess Violet would send the guards to find me, and then she would throw you in the fire. I don't want her to throw you in the fire. I love you."

"I love you, Rachel."

Rachel hugged her doll tight, and crawled into the hay, with the doll next to her. Tomorrow she had to go back, and the Princess would be mean to her some more. She had to leave her doll when she went back, she knew, or it would get thrown in the fire.

"You're the bestest friend I ever had. You and Giller."

"I love you, Rachel."

She started to worry, to worry what would happen to her doll, all alone here in the wayward pine. The doll would be lonely. What if the Princess never sent her out again; what if she somehow found out that she wanted to be sent out, and kept her in the castle just to be mean?

"Do you know what I should do?" she asked the doll as she looked up at the firelight flickering on the dark branches inside the tree.

"Help Giller," the doll said

She rolled over on one elbow and looked at the doll. "Help Giller?"

The doll nodded. "Help Giller."

–+-

Rays from the setting sun ahead reflected off the layer of leaves, making the path bright and shiny between the dark mass of woods to each side. Richard could hear Kahlan's boots scuffing across rocks hidden under the colorful mat. A light scent of rot was in the air: fallen leaves beginning to decompose in the low damp places and the thick piles in the laps of rocks, where the wind had collected them.

Even though it was getting cold, neither Richard nor Kahlan wore their cloaks, being warm from the exertion. of the pace Old John was setting. Richard kept trying to think about Zedd, but his train of thought was constantly being interrupted by having to lope to keep up. The realization that he was getting winded finally made him push Zedd from his mind. But one thought wouldn't leave him: something didn't feel right.

At last, he allowed that caution to blossom in his mind. How could an old man be out walking him like this, yet look fresh and relaxed? Richard felt his forehead, wondering if he was sick, or had a fever. He did feel hot. Maybe he wasn't well; maybe there was something wrong with him. They had been pushing hard for days, but not this hard. No, he felt fine, simply winded.

For a while, he watched Kahlan walking ahead of him. She, too, was having difficulty keeping up. She pulled another spiderweb off her face, then trotted to keep up. He could see that, like him, she was breathing hard. For some reason, Richard's caution was igniting into foreboding.

He caught a brief glimpse of something off to the left, in the woods, keeping pace. Just a small animal, he thought. But it looked like something with long arms, skittering along the ground; then it was gone. His mouth felt dry. It must just be his imagination, he told himself.

He turned his attention back to Old John. The path was wide in some places, narrow in others with branches that reached in tight. When Kahlan and Richard went past, they both sometimes brushed against them, or simply pushed them out of the way. Not the old man. He stayed to the center of the trail, avoiding any errant limb, his arms clutching his cloak tightly to him.