Wizard's First Rule

Shar came forward. "Please, Mother Confessor. I feel such pain of aloneness away from the others. I will never share their company again. It hurts so. I pass now. Please. Use your power. Touch me and let me drink in the sweet agony. Let me die with the taste of love. I have forfeited my life to help you. I have asked nothing else of you. Please?"

Shar's light was growing dimmer, fainter. Kahlan, crying, held her left hand over her mouth. At last, she reached out with her right hand, until her trembling fingers touched the wisp.

All about there was thunder but no sound. The violent impact to the air jolted the wayward pine, causing a rain of dead needles, some flaring when they touched the fire. Shar's dim silvery color changed to a pink glow, growing in intensity.

Shar's voice was faint. "Thank you, Kahlan. Good-bye, my love."

The spark of light and life faded and was gone.

–+-

After the thunder without sound, Richard waited for a time before he returned to her. Kahlan sat with her arms around her legs and her chin resting on her knees as she stared into the fire.

"Shar?" he asked.

"She is gone," came the answer in a distant voice.

He nodded and, taking her arm, led her to the mat of dry grass and laid her down. She went without resistance or comment. He put the blanket over her and piled on some of the dry grass to help keep her warm through the night, then burrowed himself into it next to her. Kahlan turned on her side, away from him, and pushed her shoulders back against him the way a child

74 would put its back to a parent when peril approached. He sensed it, too. Something was coming for them. Something deadly.

Already, she was asleep. He knew he should feel cold, but he didn't. His hand throbbed. He felt warm. Richard lay there, thinking about the thunder without sound. He wondered what she would do to make the great wizard do what she wanted. The idea frightened him. Before he could worry more he, too, was asleep

CHAPTER 6

BY NOON THE NEXT day, Richard knew the bite of the vine was bringing on a fever. He had no appetite. At times he was unbearably hot, sweat making his clothes stick to his skin; then he would shiver with chills. His head pounded in a way that made him sick to his stomach. There was nothing he could do about it, except seek Zedd's help, and since they were nearly there he decided not to tell Kahlan. Dreams had troubled his sleep, whether from the fever or the things he had learned, he didn't know. What Shar had told him was the most disturbing: seek the answer or die.

The sky was thinly overcast, the cold gray light foretelling the coming of winter. Trees grown large and close held back the breeze and its chill, making the trail a quiet sanctuary filled with the aromatic fragrance of balsam fir: a refuge from winter's breath above.

Crossing a small brook near a beaver pond, they came upon a patch of late wildflowers, their yellow and pale blue blossoms blanketing the ground in a sparsely wooded hollow. Kahlan stopped to pick some. Finding a scoop-shaped piece of dead wood, she started arranging the flowers within the hollow of the wood. Richard thought she must be hungry. He found an apple tree he knew to be nearby and filled his pack half full while she bent to her task. It was always a good idea to bring food when going to see Zedd.

Richard finished before Kahlan, and waited, leaning against a log, wondering what she was doing. When she was satisfied with the arrangement, she lifted the hem of her dress and knelt beside the pond, floating the wood out onto the water. She sat back on her boots with her hands folded in her lap, watching for a time as the small raft of flowers drifted out onto the quiet water. When she turned and saw him leaning against the log, she stood and joined him.

"An offering to the spirits of our two mothers," she explained. "To ask their protection and help in finding the wizard." Kahlan looked to his face, and concern came over her features. "Richard, what's wrong?"

He held out an apple. "Nothing. Here, eat this."

She slapped his hand away and in a blink had him by the throat with her other hand. Anger flared in her green eyes. "Why would you do this?" she demanded.

Shock raced through his mind. He went rigid. Something told him not to move. "Don't you like apples? I'm sorry, I'll find you something else to eat."

The fury in-her eyes faltered, changing to doubt. "What did you call them?"

"Apples," he said, still not moving. "Don't you know what apples are? They're good to eat, I promise. What did you think they were?"

Her hand loosened its grip a little. "You eat these… apples?"

Richard kept himself still. "Yes. All the time."

Embarrassment replaced her anger. She released his throat and put her fingers over her mouth. Her eyes were wide. "Richard, I'm so sorry. I didn't know you could eat these things. In the Midlands, any red fruit is deadly poison. I thought you meant to poison me."