Wizard's First Rule (66 page)

The creature nodded vigorously.

His hand tightened on the hilt. “Why did she take the pretty lady?”

“Don’t know. Maybe, to play with her. Maybe, to kill her.” The thing peered up at him. “Maybe, to get you.”

“Turn over,” Richard said. The creature cringed. “Turn over, or I’ll run you through!”

It flipped over, trembling. Richard leaned his boot into the small of its back, below the sharp, raised projections of its spine. He reached in his pack, pulling out a length of rope. He ran a loop with a slip knot around its neck.

“Do you have a name?”

“Companion. I am Mistress’s companion. Samuel.”

Richard pulled him to his feet; leaves stuck to the gray skin of his chest. “Well, Samuel, we’re going after your mistress. You’re going to lead the way. If you make one wrong move, I’ll snap your neck with this rope. Understand?”

Samuel nodded quickly, then, giving a sidelong glance at the rope, nodded slowly. “Agaden Reach. Companion take you there. No kill me?”

“If you take me there, to your mistress, and if the pretty lady is all right, I won’t kill you.”

Richard put tension to the rope to let Samuel know who was in charge, then put away the sword.

“Here, you carry the pretty lady’s pack.”

Samuel snatched the pack out of Richard’s hands. “Mine! Gimme!” Big hands started rummaging through it.

Richard gave a sharp tug on the rope. “That doesn’t belong to you. Keep your hands out of it!”

Bulging yellow eyes filled with hate looked up at him. “When Mistress kills you, then Samuel eats you.”

“If I don’t eat you first,” Richard sneered. “I’m pretty hungry. Maybe I’ll have a little Samuel stew along the way?”

The look of hate changed to a look of wide, yellow-eyed terror. “Please! No kill me! Samuel take you to Mistress, to pretty lady. Promise.” He put the pack to his shoulder and took a few steps, until he ran out of slack. “Follow Samuel. Hurry,” he said, wanting to prove his worth alive. “No cook Samuel, please,” he muttered over and over as they went back down the trail.

Richard couldn’t begin to imagine what sort of creature Samuel was. There was something familiar, unsettling, about him. He wasn’t very tall, but he was powerfully strong. Richard’s jaw still throbbed from where Samuel had hit him, and his neck and head ached from having his head pounded on the ground.

Long arms nearly reached the ground as Samuel walked along in an odd waddle, muttering over and over that he didn’t want to be cooked. Short, dark pants held up with straps were all he wore. His feet were as disproportionately large as his hands and arms. His belly was round and full, with what, Richard could only wonder. There was no hair on him anywhere, and his skin looked as if it hadn’t been in the sunlight in years. From time to time, Samuel would snatch up a stick, or a rock, and say “Mine! Gimme!” to no one in particular, only to soon lose interest and drop his latest find.

Keeping a sharp eye on both the woods and Samuel, Richard followed the companion, prodding him to move faster. He was afraid for Kahlan, and he was furious at himself. Old John, or the Calthrop, whatever it was, had completely taken him in. He couldn’t believe how stupid he had been. He had fallen for the story because he had wanted to believe, had wanted so badly to see Zedd. The very thing he had always told others not to do. And there he was, giving the monster the information it then repeated back to him as proof. He was furious at how stupid he had been. He was also painfully ashamed.

People believe things because they want to, he had told Kahlan, and so had he, and now the witch woman had her. The very thing she had been so afraid of, and because he had been so stupid, had let his guard down. It seemed that every time he let his guard down, she was the one who paid the price. If the witch woman harmed Kahlan, she would find out what the wrath of a Seeker was all about, he vowed to himself.

Once again he reprimanded himself. He was letting his imagination get away from him. If Shota wanted to kill her, she would have done so on the spot. She wouldn’t be taking her back to Agaden Reach. But why take her back to the Reach?
Unless, as Samuel put it, she wanted to play with her. Richard tried to put that thought out of his mind. It had to be him she wanted, not Kahlan. That was probably why the Calthrop left so quickly; the witch woman had scared it off.

When they reached the fork they had passed before, Samuel took them immediately down the left path. It was getting dark, but the companion didn’t slow. The trail started climbing up steep switchbacks, and soon they were out of the trees, onto an open trail across the rock, climbing steadily toward the jagged, snow-covered peaks.

In the moonlit snow, Richard could see two sets of footprints, one of them Kahlan’s. A good sign, he thought; she was still alive. It didn’t look like Shota intended to kill her. At least not right away.

Skirting the bottom of the snowcaps, the path led over the bottom fringes of the snow, which was wet, heavy, and hard to walk through. Without Samuel leading the way, knowing where this pass was, Richard realized it would take days to make it over these peaks. The cold wind whipped through the gaps in the rock, pulling away long thin clouds of their breath in the frigid air. Samuel was shivering. Richard put on his cloak, then pulled Kahlan’s out of the pack Samuel was carrying.

“This belongs to the pretty lady. You may wear it, for now, to keep warm.”

Samuel snatched the cloak out of his hands. “Mine! Gimme!”

“If you’re going to be like that, then I won’t let you wear it.” Richard pulled the rope taut and yanked the cloak back.

“Please! Samuel cold,” he whined. “Please? Wear the pretty lady’s cloak?”

Richard handed it back. This time the companion took it slowly, and put it around his shoulders. The little creature made Richard’s skin crawl. He took out a piece of tava bread and ate it as they walked along. Samuel kept looking over his shoulder, watching Richard eat. When he could stand it no longer, Richard offered Samuel a piece.

The big hands reached out. “Mine! Gimme!” Richard pulled the bread back, out of reach. Pleading yellow eyes looked up at him in the moonlight. “Please?” Richard carefully put the bread into his eager hands.

Samuel made small talk as he they trudged through the snow. He had eaten the bread in one bite. Richard knew if given the chance, Samuel would slit his throat without a second thought. He seemed to be a creature devoid of any redeeming qualities.

“Samuel, why does Shota keep you around?”

He looked back over his shoulder, his yellow eyes set in a puzzled frown. “Samuel companion.”

“And won’t your mistress be angry with you for leading me to her?”

Samuel made a gurgling sound that Richard took for laughter. “Mistress not afraid of Seeker.”

Near dawn, at the edge of a descent into a dark wood, Samuel’s long arm pointed downward. “Agaden Reach,” he gurgled. He looked back over his shoulder with a taunting grin. “Mistress.”

The heat was oppressive in the wood. Richard took off his cloak and put it in his pack, then stuffed Kahlan’s back in hers. Samuel watched without protest. He seemed happy, confident, to be back in the Reach. Richard pretended he could see where they were going, not wanting to give the companion any idea that he was almost blind in the thick darkness. Richard let himself be guided along by the rope, like a blind man. Samuel loped along as if it were bright as midday. Whenever he turned his hairless head back to Richard, his yellow eyes shone like twin lanterns.

As the light of dawn slowly suffused the wood, Richard could begin to see large trees all about, trailers of moss wafting down, boggy patches with vapor rising from the black, murky water, pairs of eyes that watched and blinked from the shadows. Hollow calls echoed through the mist and vapor as he stepped carefully over the tangle of roots. The place reminded him a little of the Skow Swamp. It smelled just as rank.

“How much farther?”

“Close.” Samuel grinned.

Richard took up the slack on the rope. “Just remember, if anything goes wrong, you die first.”

The grin faded from the bloodless lips.

Here and there in the mud Richard could see the same pair of footprints that he had seen in the snow. Kahlan was still walking. Dark forms followed, keeping to the shadows, the thick brush, sometimes letting out whoops and howls. Richard wondered, and worried, if they were more things like Samuel. Or worse. Some followed in the treetops, just beyond sight. Despite his best efforts to halt it, a shiver went up his spine.

Samuel skirted off the path, around the twisted roots of a squat, fat-trunked tree.

“What’re you doing?” Richard asked, pulling the companion to a halt.

Samuel grinned back at him. “Watch.” He picked up a stout stick, big as his wrist, and threw it with an underhand swing into the roots of the tree. The roots whipped out, knotting around the stick, pulling it under the tangled mass. Richard heard it snapping apart. Samuel gurgled with laughter.

As the sun climbed higher, the woods of Agaden Reach seemed to become even darker. Dead branches twisted together overhead, and mist occasionally drifted across their way. At times Richard couldn’t even see Samuel on the other end of the wet rope. But always he could hear things: scratching, clawing, whistling, things clicking at them from just out of sight. Sometimes the mist twirled and spun at the passing of creatures darting by, near but unseen.

Richard remembered what Kahlan had said: they were going to die. He tried to put the thought out of his head. She had told him she had never met the witch woman, only heard others speak of her. But what she had heard had terrified her. Those who went in never came out. Not even a wizard would go into Agaden Reach, she had said. But still, it was secondhand knowledge; she hadn’t ever met Shota. Maybe the stories were exaggerated. His eyes scanned the menacing, forbidding woods. And maybe not.

From ahead, through the tangled mass of trees, came light, sunlight, and the
sound of rushing water. The farther they went, the brighter it became. Soon they reached the edge of the dark wood. The trail simply ended. Samuel gurgled with glee.

Spread out far below was a long valley, green, bright, lit by the sun. Gigantic rocky peaks soared almost straight up all around it. Fields of golden grasses among stands of oak, beech, and maple set in rich autumn colors rippled in the breeze. In the dark forest where they stood, it felt like standing in night, looking out on day. Water tumbled off the rocks beside them, down the vertical drop, disappearing soundlessly through the air until it reached the clear pools and streams below, where it made a distant roar and a hiss. Spray drifted up past them, wetting their faces.

Samuel pointed down into the valley. “Mistress.”

Richard nodded and had him move on. Samuel led them through a labyrinth of brush, tight trees, and fern-covered boulders, to a place Richard would never have found without his little guide: a trail hidden behind rocks and vines, at the edge of the precipice, leading down the wall of the valley. As they descended, the trail offered panoramic views of the beautiful country below: the trees looking small in patches over the gentle hills, the streams meandering among the fields and banks, the sky a bright blue overhead.

In the center of it all, set among a carpet of grand trees, was a beautiful palace of breathtaking grace and splendor. Delicate spires stretched into the air, wispy bridges spanned the high gaps between towers, stairs spiraled around turrets. Colorful flags and streamers atop every point snapped lightly and flew lazily in the wind. The magnificent palace seemed to be reaching joyously to the sky.

Richard stood silent for a moment, mouth agape, staring, hardly able to believe what he was seeing. He loved his home of Hartland, but there was no place there to compare to this. This was, quite simply, the most beautiful place he had ever seen. He never would have imagined that a vision of such exquisite loveliness even existed.

The two of them started off again, down the valley’s edge. In places, there were steps, thousands of them, cut from the stone of the wall, twisting, tunneling and turning downward, sometimes spiraling back on themselves, going underneath the ones above. Samuel sprang down them as if he had done it a thousand times before. He was obviously thrilled to be home again, near the protection of his mistress.

At the bottom, in the sunlight, a road led off through the tree-dotted hills and warm grass fields. Samuel bounded along in his odd gait, gurgling to himself. Richard took in the slack once in a while to remind him who still held the other end of the rope.

As they crossed the valley floor, following a clear stream for a time, moving ever closer to the palace, the trees became a little thicker, closer together, each a magnificent specimen, shading road or field from the bright sun. The road took them gently uphill. At the top of a rise, the trees seemed as if they were gathered, sheltering, surrounding a place before them. Richard could see the spires of the palace off through the branches ahead.

They entered a shady, still, enveloping cathedral of trees.

Richard could hear the gentle sound of water running through mossy rock. Hazy
streamers of sunlight penetrated the quiet, muted area. There was the sweet smell of grass and leaves.