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Kahlan was incredulous. “What you offer? What could you possibly offer them as you torture them?”
“Release,” the Mord-Sith said.
“Release?” Kahlan asked, still staring at them both in disbelief.
“Release,” Abbot Dreier confirmed. “Only when they willingly embrace the greater good and allow themselves to be the conduit for this gift to mankind, do we release them and allow them the privilege of crossing over into death.”
Kahlan felt sick. She now understood all too well the part that the Mord-Sith played in this scheme.
Erika smiled when she saw that Kahlan finally understood.
“There is transcendent glory in profound agony,” the Mord-Sith said with quiet conviction, as if to justify what they were doing.
“Glory,” Kahlan said, sarcastically, repulsed by the evil of it all.
“Yes, indeed, glory.” The Mord-Sith’s wicked satisfaction in her work surfaced. “We intend to bring you such glory as you cannot yet imagine.”
Ludwig Dreier was staring at Kahlan. “And then you, too, like all the others who have come before you, will willingly give forth prophecy in order to be allowed to cross over into death.”
CHAPTER
65
Richard sat on the stone floor of the cavern, his back leaned up against the wall, half dozing, weary from the inner sickness weighing him down. He looked up when he heard muffled voices. It was not Zedd’s voice, but voices outside of the barrier, out beyond his main prison entrance. Someone was saying something he couldn’t quite make out.
He saw movement on the other side of the undulating green veil and then several figures came to a halt. It was not the kind of movement he was used to seeing from the writhing spirits inside the world of the dead who had been taunting him for days, promising him the peace of eternal nothingness, whispering for him to step through and join them in that eternal peace.
These other figures were instead standing outside his green prison door.
It had been several days since he had seen or heard anyone even passing by beyond that rippling wall of green light. At least, he thought it had been several days. He couldn’t be sure. It was hard to tell time in the timeless twilight of the imprisoning cavern.
He had slept little and paced a lot as the time slowly passed. They had brought him no food. He had found a recess worn down into the rock itself by the steady drip of water. Over time that slow, steady drip had hollowed out a bowl-shaped depression. That at least provided him a source of water, since the bucket was empty.
But without food, he was beginning to think that maybe they had simply left him there to die. With the touch of death always there in the background inside him, he wondered if that poison left by the Hedge Maid might beat them to it.
Richard had gone back a number of times to the place where he had talked to Zedd, but his grandfather never answered. As he had paced, Richard had frequently checked the other openings that were also blocked by the greenish veil to the underworld. No word came back from beyond any of them. He wondered if the guards had moved people away from the cells near his so that no one could talk to him or tell him what was happening. It would make sense for them to want to isolate him.
Richard told himself that it was either that, or Zedd had not returned because it was more likely that prisoners were stuffed into any handy hole, rather than bothering to bring them back to a specific place. After all, the rock was honeycombed with caverns. He tried very hard to convince himself of that. He refused to allow himself to consider the possibility that after Richard had last spoken with him, they had again bled his grandfather and he had finally died. Richard reminded himself that Zedd was stronger than he looked, and that he would hold on now that Richard was there.
But what hope could there be just because Richard was now also a prisoner? He was more likely to die along with the rest of them.
The greenish light abruptly dissipated, twisting as it dissolved like smoke spiraling up and vanishing.
There were a number of Shun-tuk standing outside in the maze of passageways, as well as a few of the walking dead standing farther back in dark openings, watching with glowing red eyes. The half people stared as if trying to see his soul.
The Mord-Sith stood at the entrance. It was her shape he had seen beyond the veil.
Richard stayed seated where he was.
Down in the chamber where they had put him, there was no opening to the outside world, no daylight, so it was impossible for him to tell precisely how many days it had been since he had last seen anyone, or even if it was day or night. Since he had been left in his private prison, not even the Mord-Sith had come to torment him, as Mord-Sith were wont to do.
While he felt weak from lack of food, in contrast Vika looked well rested and fresh. With Mord-Sith, that was generally a bad sign.
Richard, though, wasn’t in the mood for any of their nonsense or games. His time was running out and his patience was well past wearing thin.
Vika stepped into his prison room in a commanding manner that brought back a lot of very unpleasant memories. He tried to remind himself not to impose past situations on this one. This was different. He was different. He had to think of what he faced now, not what he had faced in the past.
The Mord-Sith’s single blond braid looked clean and freshly made up. Her red leather was spotless and cut to stretch tightly over her muscular form.
“It is time,” she said in a silky, cool voice.
“Time?” Richard, resting his forearms over his knees, didn’t make a move to get up. “Time for what?”
“Time for you to come with me,” she said, with a practiced lack of emotion.
Richard sighed and stood up before she came to retrieve him. He brushed the stone grit off his hands. He mentally readied himself for the dance that was about to begin. He took a calming breath. He was not going to let her lead.
“Look, Vika, I know a lot more about Mord-Sith than you can imagine, and I think you know a lot less about the outside world than you realize. You’ve been kept in the Dark Lands and at the same time kept in the dark.
“You need to listen to me. Darken Rahl was an evil man. Don’t mark me with his crimes or sins.
“The world beyond Fajin Province, beyond these backward Dark Lands, has changed for the better. I know how Darken Rahl collected young girls to become Mord-Sith, how they were trained. I can see why any Mord-Sith would have left him … but I’m not him.
“I’m not like he was. I don’t allow the collection of girls to become Mord-Sith, and I don’t treat those women who are already Mord-Sith the way he treated them. The Mord-Sith are my friends.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Like Cara?”
“Cara. Cara is here?” Richard took a step forward. “Is she all right? Is she safe.”
“She is weak.”
“From being bled?”
Vika twitched a frown. “No. She is weak from being your Mord-Sith. She is weak because you are weak and allowed her to grow weak.”
“Cara is a lot stronger than you coul
d ever be because I allowed her to grow,” Richard said through gritted teeth. “She had the strength to grow into the person she wanted to be. You could never be as strong as she is.”
“Please,” Vika scoffed with a roll of her eyes. “Her Agiel doesn’t even work. She is nothing, now.” She smiled. “That is how Lord Arc knew that your gift really had failed. The Agiel of your Mord-Sith do not work because your gift, your bond, has failed them. You have failed them. They are helpless, now. You are helpless now.”
Richard had been wondering exactly how Hannis Arc had known about Richard’s gift not working. It had been a simpler answer than he had considered.
“Did you talk to Cara? Did you try to learn anything about how things are now with—”
“I talked. She listened.”
Richard didn’t like what she was implying.
“You can choose to change, Vika.”
“Change? Like her? Become weak? I was at the People’s Palace with Abbot Dreier. I was there right under your nose, unseen, helping him set things into motion. When I was there I heard talk, and the abbot confirmed it. He said that Cara—a Mord-Sith—had wed.”
“I know,” Richard said in a quiet voice. “I’m the one who married them.”
Vika, looking surprised, studied his face for a long moment. “Why would she do such a thing? She is Mord-Sith.”
“She is also a woman, Vika, just like you. She fell in love and wanted to share her life with the man she loved.”
Her frown returned. She looked sincerely puzzled. “And you allowed this? Why would you marry them?”
“Because I care about her, about all the Mord-Sith. I wanted her to be happy. After what she has been through in her life, what all of you have been through, she deserved to have some happiness come into her life. The other Mord-Sith wept with joy at her wedding.” Richard tapped his own chest. “I wept with joy for her.”
As Vika studied him in silence for a time, he went on.
“She changed—by her own choice, changed to have the life she wanted. You, too, have the ability to use your head, to change, but the time for you to make that choice for your own life is shrinking. You still have the choice of setting things right and of helping me to set things right. That’s the only way.
