Kahlan knew it was pointless arguing with a Mord-Sith who had her mind made up, and besides, maybe the woman had a point. The Dark Lands were a dangerous place.
“I’m going, too,” Nicci said with finality.
“No one is arguing,” Kahlan said as she gripped the hilt of the sword and started making her way back through the gathered throng of soldiers and a few of the staff from the citadel. Everyone stepped back, making way for her. All eyes were on her and those eyes were filled with hope, even if the people didn’t understand why Kahlan herself suddenly seemed to have found some.
“I have to go see Red. Make sure Richard is well protected until we can get back,” she called over her shoulder to the commander.
He hurried to catch up with her. “Mother Confessor, we should go with you for protection. Lord Rahl would insist. You need to have some of the First File with you. You’ve fought with these men. You know their heart and their strength.”
“I do, but I want you all to wait here,” Kahlan said to the commander. “This is a witch woman. They are private and secretive. She will not be happy and may not help me if I bring an army.”
The big officer’s knuckles were white as he gripped the hilt of the sword at his hip. “If it’s an army, I don’t think there is a lot she could have to say about it.”
Kahlan cocked her head toward the man. “To get to where she lives, I had to walk over a valley carpeted with human skulls. It was impossible to take a step without putting a foot on one.”
That gave the man pause.
“Nicci is protection enough from things magic,” Kahlan said before he could take issue with letting her go without him and his men. “Cassia, Laurin, and Vale are protection enough from other dangers.”
The three Mord-Sith showed the commander self-satisfied smiles as they passed him on their way to follow after Kahlan.
Kahlan paused momentarily to look back at the concern on Commander Fister’s face. She lifted the sword a few inches from its scabbard and let it drop back. “Besides, I have Richard’s sword with me and I know how to use it.”
Commander Fister let out a deep breath. “We know the truth of that.” Behind him a number of his men nodded in agreement.
Nicci leaned over close as Kahlan turned and started out once more. “What if she can’t tell us anything?”
“She will. That’s why she sent Hunter for me.”
Once they were beyond the square, Nicci gently took Kahlan’s arm and brought her to a halt. “Look, Kahlan, it’s not that I don’t want to try, or that I wouldn’t do anything, give anything–including my own life–to be able to bring Richard back. I just want you to be realistic and not get yourself carried away with false hope.
“After Richard died and you came back, it was the other way around–I wanted to grasp at any straw and you were the one who was being realistic. You said we had to accept the hard truth and not wish and hope for what was beyond hope. Remember? If it does turn out to be nothing more than a false hope, it will only make it hurt worse.”
“It couldn’t hurt worse,” Kahlan said.
Nicci sighed as she nodded in understanding. Kahlan started across the empty grounds around the citadel, Nicci at her side.
Thinking about Nicci’s words, she finally lifted her fist to show Nicci the ring with the Grace on it. “Magda Searus, the first Mother Confessor, and Wizard Merritt, left this ring for Richard. It waited three thousand years for Richard to find it along with their message and with prophecy. This is what they were fighting for, what Richard was fighting for, what we are fighting for.”
Nicci nodded. “When Richard laid your dead body on the bed, before I healed you, he took off that ring and put it on your finger.”
Kahlan hadn’t known that. “This means something, Nicci. Everything that has happened–all the prophecy that has named Richard, all the different peoples who have recognized him by other names and titles, all the things Richard has learned, the things he has done, finding the omen machine, and finding this ring left for him–it all means something. It has to.
“The flow of time that witch women can see into means something. She sees it for a reason. It has meaning.
“All of those things are connected and have a larger meaning. All of it can’t simply come to an end. We can’t allow it. We have to fight, for if we don’t we will surely all die.
“I was blinded to it by grief for a time. But now I see the bigger picture. I can see it the way Richard would want me to see it.” She held her fist up again as she walked. “If Richard put this on my finger, it was for a reason.
“Red can tell us something, Nicci. I know she can. I’m not going to let that chance–any chance–pass me by.
“Besides, what do we have to lose? How much worse off could we possibly be than we are now? Are you willing to let the chance pass, no matter how slim?”
“Of course not.” Nicci finally showed the faintest of smiles. “If there is a way, you would be the one to find it. Richard loved you enough to go to the underworld to bring you back. We will try anything, do anything, to bring him back.”
Kahlan summoned all her courage to show the woman a smile. “The way ahead may be painful, in ways we can’t yet imagine.”
Nicci’s eyes revealed her resolve. “If it has a chance to bring him back, it will be done.”
CHAPTER 4
Kahlan, the baldric now resting over her right shoulder and the sword at her left hip, made her way across the grounds of the citadel toward the wall, the sorceress beside her and the three Mord-Sith in tow.
Although common sense told them that there could be no hope of bringing Richard’s soul back from the underworld, the three Mord-Sith looked willing to believe it could be done. Kahlan hoped they weren’t all investing hope where there was none. But she couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t turn over every last stone, even if that last stone was a witch woman.
Kahlan knew that people didn’t come back from the dead, but she had been witness to times when someone seemed to be lost to death, only to recover. Richard needed more than merely to recover, as if he had suffered a grave wound or fallen through the ice and seemingly drowned, but where did one draw the line–draw the veil across life?
She worried, though, that her whole life had been dedicated to finding truth. Richard was dead, and her fear told her that she had to accept that truth.
Try as she might, she couldn’t bring her internal argument to some kind of resolution. When, exactly, was dead final? When was the veil closed for good?
Who was to say when life really was beyond recovery?
After all, because of the Hedge Maid’s taint of poison in them both, she had carried its balance of a spark of life with her into the underworld after she died, and because of that she had returned. Had she not experienced it herself, she might have difficulty believing such a thing was even remotely possible.
So, despite how remote the hope, it worked for her. If it worked for her, maybe since Richard carried that same touch from the occult they could find a way for it to work for Richard. She couldn’t imagine how it could be done, especially after all the time that had passed, but that was why they had to go to the witch woman. If there was a chance, she would be the one who could give them a direction or something useful to help them find a way.
Hunter was sitting quietly on a small, dark outcropping of rock, his green eyes tracking her as she passed beneath the arched opening through the modest stone wall. Kahlan checked in both directions to make sure there were no surprises hiding close. They still had to worry about half people showing up.