Wizard's First Rule (34 page)

Richard and Kahlan pulled their hoods up and urged their horses on into the dark rain, toward the bone woman.

The rain had quickly drowned the lights from Southaven and left the travelers to grope their way through the blackness. Chase’s horses had carefully picked their way down the trail; trained by the wardens for this kind of duty, they were comfortable in the adverse conditions. Dawn had struggled interminably at bringing light to the new day. Even after Richard knew the sun was up, the world still hung in half-light between night and day, a ghost of morning. The rain had helped to cool his hot rage.

Richard and Kahlan knew that the last member of the quad was loose somewhere, and they watched every movement as a potential threat. They knew that, sooner or later, he would come at them. The uncertainty of when ate at their concentration. Worry over what Bill had said, that Zedd and Chase wouldn’t last long, gnawed at his spirit. If this woman, Adie, couldn’t help, he didn’t know what he would do. If she couldn’t help, his two friends would die. He couldn’t imagine a world without Zedd. A world without his tricks and help and comfort would be a dead world. He realized that he was getting a lump in his throat thinking about it. Zedd would tell him not to worry about what might be, but to worry about what was.

But what was seemed almost as bad. His father had been murdered. Darken Rahl was close to obtaining all the boxes. Richard’s two oldest friends were near death. He was alone with a woman he cared about, but wasn’t supposed to care about. She still kept her secrets closed to him, locked away.

He could tell she fought a constant battle over it in her mind. Sometimes when he felt he was getting closer to her, he saw pain and fear in her eyes. Soon they would be in the Midlands, where people knew what she was. He wanted her to be the one to tell him; he didn’t want to learn it from someone he didn’t know. If she didn’t tell him soon, he would have to ask her. Against his nature or not, he would have to.

So deep was he in thought, he hadn’t realized they had been on the trail for over four hours. The forest was drinking in the rain. Trees loomed dark and huddled in the mist; the moss on their trunks was vibrant and lush. It stood out on the bark of trees, and in round humps on the ground, green and spongy. The lichen on the rocks shone bright yellow and rust in the damp. In some places water ran down the trail, turning it into a temporary creek. The poles of Zedd’s litter splashed through it, going over rocks and roots, rocking the old man’s head from side to side on the rougher sections. His feet rode inches from water when they crossed runoff streams.

Richard smelled the sweetness of woodsmoke in the stillness. Birch wood. He realized that the area they were entering had changed somehow. It looked the same as it had for hours, yet it was different. Rain floated down in quiet reverence for the forest. The whole place felt somehow sacred. He felt like an intruder, disturbing the peace of timeless ages. He wanted to say something to Kahlan, but it seemed as if talking would be a sacrilege. He understood why the men from the inn wouldn’t come up here; their foul presence would be a violation.

They came to a house that so blended with its surroundings, it was almost
invisible next to the trail. A wisp of woodsmoke curled from its chimney, up into the misty air. The logs of the walls were weathered and ancient, matching the color of the surrounding trees, with nothing other than the ground it sat upon disturbed. The house seemed to be growing from the forest floor, with trees towering around it protectively. The roof was covered in a mass of ferns. A smaller, slanted roof covered a door and a porch large enough for only two or three people to stand on at once. There was a square, four-paned window in the front, and another on the side of the house Richard could see. None had curtains.

In front of the old house, a patch of ferns bowed and nodded when water from the trees dripped onto them. Mist turned their distinctive dusty pale green bright in the wetness. A narrow path slipped through their midst.

In the center of the ferns, in the center of the path, stood a tall woman, taller than Kahlan, not as tall as Richard. She wore a simple tan robe of a coarse weave, with red and yellow symbols and decorations at the neck. Her hair was fine and straight, a mix of black and gray, parted in the middle, chopped square with her strong jaw. Age had not stolen the handsome features of her weathered face. She leaned on a crutch. She had but one foot. Richard brought the horses to a slow halt in front of her.

The woman’s eyes were completely white.

“I be Adie. Who be you?” Adie’s voice had a harsh, throaty, raspy quality that sent a shiver up Richard’s spine.

“Four friends,” Richard said in a respectful tone. Light rain fell in a hushed, soft patter. He waited.

Fine wrinkles covered her face. She took the crutch from under her arm and folded both thin hands over the top, lending her weight to it. Adie’s thin lips pulled tighter in a slight smile.

“One friend,” she rasped. “Three dangerous people. I decide if they be friends.” She nodded slightly to herself.

Richard and Kahlan stole a sidelong glance at each other. His guard went up. He felt somehow uncomfortable sitting on the horse, as if talking down to her suggested disrespect. He dismounted, Kahlan following his lead. With his horse’s reins in his hand, he moved to stand in front of the animal, Kahlan next to him.

“I am Richard Cypher. This is my friend, Kahlan Amnell.”

The woman studied his face with her white eyes. He had no idea if she could see, but he didn’t know how it could be possible. She turned to Kahlan. The woman’s raspy voice spoke a few words to Kahlan in a language he couldn’t understand. Kahlan’s gaze held the old woman’s, and she gave Adie a slight bow of her head.

It had been a greeting. A greeting of deference. Richard hadn’t recognized the words
Kahlan
or
Amnell
anywhere in it. The fine hairs on the back of his neck stiffened.

Kahlan had been addressed by title.

He had been around Kahlan long enough to know that by the way she was standing, with her back straight and her head held assertively up, she was on guard. Serious guard. If she had been a cat, her back would be arched, her fur standing on end. The two women faced each other; age had been dismissed for the moment
by each. They measured each other on qualities he couldn’t see. This was a woman who could bring them to harm, and he knew the sword wasn’t going to protect him.

Adie turned back to Richard. “Put words to your need, Richard Cypher.”

“We need your help.”

Adie’s head bobbed. “True.”

“Our two friends are hurt. One, Dell Brandstone, told me he is your friend.”

“True,” Adie said again in her raspy voice.

“Another man, in Southaven, told us you may be able to help them. In return for your help, we brought you supplies. We thought it would be fair to offer you something.”

Adie leaned closer. “Lie!” She thumped her crutch once on the ground. Richard and Kahlan both jerked back a little.

Richard didn’t know what to say. Adie waited. “It’s true. The supplies are right here.” He turned a little, indicating Chase’s horse. “We thought it would be fair…”

“Lie!” She thumped her crutch once again.

Richard folded his arms, his temper rising. His friends were dying while he played games with this woman. “What is a lie?”

“‘We’ be a lie.” She thumped her crutch again. “You be the one who thought to offer supplies. You be the one who decided to bring them. Not you and Kahlan. You. ‘We’ be a lie. ‘I’ be the truth.”

Richard unfolded his arms, holding them out to his sides. “What difference does that make? ‘I,’ ‘we,’ what does it matter?”

She stared at him. “One be true, one be a lie. How much more difference could there be?”

Richard folded his arms across his chest again, frowning. “Chase must have a very difficult time telling you the stories of his adventures.”

Adie’s small smile came back. “True,” she nodded. She leaned a little closer, motioning with her hand. “Bring your friends inside.”

She turned, put the crutch back under her arm, and worked her way to the house. Richard and Kahlan looked at each other, and then went to get Chase, putting the blankets away first. He had Kahlan take the boundary warden’s feet; he took the heavy half. As soon as they lugged Chase through the door, Richard discovered why she was called the bone woman.

Bones of every kind stood out in stark relief against the dark walls. Every wall was covered. Against one were shelves that held skulls. Skulls of beasts Richard didn’t recognize. Most were fearsome-looking, with long, curved teeth. At least none were human, he thought. Some of the bones were assembled into necklaces. Some were decorated into objects of purpose with feathers and colored beads, chalk circles drawn around them on the surface of the wall. There were stacks of bones in the corner, looking unimportant en masse. The ones on the wall were displayed carefully, with space around them to signify their importance. On the mantel over the fireplace was a rib bone as thick as Richard’s arm, as long as he was tall, with symbols he didn’t recognize carved in dark lines along its length. There were so many bleached bones around him that Richard felt as if he were in the belly of a dead beast.

They set Chase down while Richard’s head swiveled around, looking. Rainwater dripped off Kahlan, Chase, and himself. Adie towered over him. She was as dry as the bones around her. She had stood outside in the rain, yet she was dry. Richard reconsidered the wisdom of his decision to come here. If Chase hadn’t told him Adie was his friend, he would not be doing this.

He looked to Kahlan. “I’ll go get Zedd.” It was more of a question than a statement.

“I will help carry in the supplies,” she offered, casting a glance at Adie.

Richard gently laid Zedd at the bone woman’s feet. Together, he and Kahlan stacked the supplies on the table. When they had finished, both went and stood next to their friends, in front of Adie, both peering at the bones. Adie watched them.

“Who be this one?” she asked, pointing at Zedd.

“Zeddicus Zu’l Zorander. My friend,” he said.

“Wizard!” Adie snapped.

“My friend!” Richard yelled, his anger unhinged.

Adie calmly looked at him with her white eyes while he glared back. Zedd was going to die if he didn’t get help, and Richard was in no mood to allow that to happen. Adie leaned forward, placing her wrinkled hand flat against his stomach. A little surprised, he stood still while she rubbed her hand in a slow circle, as if seeking to discern something. She took her hand back, carefully folding it over the other on the crutch. Her thin lips pulled to the sides in a slight smile as she looked up.

“The righteous rage of a true Seeker. Good.” She looked over to Kahlan. “You have nothing to fear from him, child. It be the anger of truth. It be the anger of the teeth. The good need not fear it.” With the aid of her crutch, she took a few steps to Kahlan. Adie placed her hand on Kahlan’s stomach and repeated the procedure. When she was finished, she laid her hand over the crutch and nodded. She looked to Richard.

“She has the fire. The anger burns in her too. But it be the anger of the tongue. You have to fear it. All have to fear it. It be dangerous if she ever lets it out.”

Richard gave Adie a leery look. “I dislike riddles; they leave too much room for misinterpretation. If you want to tell me something, then tell me.”

“Tell me,” she mocked. Her eyes narrowed. “What be stronger, teeth or tongue?”

Richard took a deep breath. “The answer is obviously teeth. Therefore I choose tongue.”

Adie gave him a disapproving scowl. “Sometimes your tongue moves when it shouldn’t. Make it be still,” she commanded in a dry rasp.

Somewhat embarrassed, Richard kept quiet.

Adie smiled and gave a nod. “See?”

Richard frowned. “No.”

“The anger of teeth be force by contact. Violence by touch. Combat. The magic of the Sword of Truth be the magic of the anger of teeth. Ripping. Tearing. The anger of the tongue need not touch, but it be force just the same. It cuts just as quick.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Richard said.

Adie reached out, her long finger stretching to him and lightly touching his shoulder. His head was suddenly filled with a vision, a vision that was a memory: a memory of the night before. He saw the men at the inn. He was standing in front of them with Kahlan, and the men were ready to attack. He was grasping the Sword of Truth, ready for the violence necessary to stop them, knowing that nothing short of blood would suffice. Then he saw Kahlan next to him, talking to the mob, stopping them, holding them with her words, running her tongue across her lip, giving meaning without speaking. She was taking the fire from them, disarming the depraved without touching them; doing what the sword could not. He began to understand what Adie meant.

Kahlan’s hand swept up sharply and snatched Adie’s wrist, pulling the hand away from Richard. There was a dangerous look in her eyes, one that wasn’t lost on Adie.

“I am sworn to protect the life of the Seeker. I do not know what you are doing. You will forgive me if I overreact; I mean no disrespect, but I could not forgive myself if I failed in my task. There is much at risk.”