Nicci frowned as she leaned toward what Richard believed was the capstone. “Do you hear that?”
“No, what?” Kahlan frowned as she stopped waving her hand and cocked her head. “Wait, I do hear it. It sounds like alarm bells.”
CHAPTER 47
Even though he was concerned about the distant sound of alarm bells from beyond the capstone, Richard slid his sword back into its scabbard. He needed to be able to use both hands, like before, if it was going to work. When he held a cool metal statue of the shepherd in each hand, they warmed under his touch. He felt the tingle of magic seeping through his palms, along his arms, and up his spine into the base of his skull. This magic was stronger than it had been in Stroyza.
As he felt the vibration of magic at the base of his skull, the stone before them began to tremble almost as if in sympathy. Small bits of dirt and rock fell from the walls and ceiling as the area around them quaked. Pebbles danced on the floor as dust rose around them.
Richard remembered the way Samantha brought the rock of the cave’s ceiling crashing down. He glanced up, worried that the rock overhead might come down on them the same way. Unlike the stone walls farther down in the catacombs, this rock higher up was granite, the same as the ceiling that had fallen in.
The capstone suddenly let out a loud crack as the seal broke all at once. Mortar that had sealed the stone shattered and popped out. Finally, the enormous slab of stone began to pivot back out of the opening, grating against the floor as it moved. As it did so, light flooded in, along with the racket of alarm bells.
Squinting in the sudden brightness of natural light, Richard peered around the stone door and out through the opening, trying to see. Cassia pushed past him and shot out the opening to check for danger. When she didn’t call out a warning, Kahlan took Richard’s hand and ducked under the short opening along with him.
They found themselves in a sheltered entryway for the catacombs. Fluted limestone columns lined either side of the recessed alcove. The small pillars, not much taller than Richard, were topped with long entablatures that provided support for arches elaborately decorated with complex, carved stone moldings framing tiles laid out in dark, geometric patterns. Benches to each side had been intricately embellished to match the forbidding architectural details of the rest of the entry. After the filth and crudely cut stone they had been around for so long, the magnificent, polished stone seemed to gleam.
Larger-than-life stone figures in grim, distraught poses clearly conveyed a sense of grieving and sorrow for what lay beyond the pitch-black opening at the rear. This was, after all, a threshold to the place of the dead. The brooding figures surrounding the doorway were apparently meant to prepare visitors, letting them know that they would find the catacombs devoid of any joy.
Kahlan rushed past Richard to step out of the hidden alcove, looking all around as she stepped into the light. “Dear spirits, I know this place.” She turned back in a rush. “We’re in the Keep!”
Richard stepped out of the shadowed entry to the catacombs to stand beside Kahlan, looking up at the vast, narrow chamber rising up like an enormous split inside the mountain the Wizard’s Keep had been built into. Tightly fit, fine-grained granite blocks lined the soaring walls. The chamber was perhaps half a dozen stories high, yet hardly any wider than the public corridors up in the Keep proper.
Cassia and Vale stood shielding them from a small group of people crowding around, staring at them as if they were seeing some of the corpses from below come back to life. Covered in dust as they were, they probably looked the part.
“Richard?” a deep voice asked.
Richard squinted into the light shining into his eyes from the slits at the top of the lofty wall opposite him.
“Chase?”
The big man sheathed his sword and rushed forward to grasp Richard by his shoulders and give him a shake. “Richard! Praise be to the good spirits! Where have you come from?”
A woman in a simple blue dress pushed through the small crowd of people, including some Sisters he recognized. “Richard! It is you! And Kahlan!” She grinned with unexpected joy. “And Sister Nicci! You’re here as well!”
Nicci bowed her head, ignoring the slight of the title she no longer used. “Sister Verna, or should I say Prelate, I must admit I’m very happy to see your beautiful, smiling face.”
Verna laughed as she rushed forward, her wavy brown hair bouncing, to hug Kahlan as if she were a long-lost sister.
Chase’s daughter, Rachel, leaned out from behind him. “Richard!” She ran up and threw her arms around his waist.
She seemed to have nearly grown into a woman since the last time he had seen her. Her arms and legs were considerably longer. Her beautiful, blond hair had also grown and was now almost as long as Nicci’s.
Verna separated from Kahlan, holding her at arm’s length as if not willing to let her go for fear she wouldn’t be real. “How in the world did you all come to be in there?”
As happy as he was to see these people he knew, Richard had bigger problems on his mind. He knew that time was dangerously short, and they were far from finished with their journey. He could feel how much stronger the poison inside him had grown. Death was trying to pull him back to that dark world before he could do anything about it.
“It’s a long story,” he said, hoping to avoid being drawn into a lengthy explanation.
“A story we really don’t have time for, I’m afraid,” Kahlan added as she glanced at Richard when she recognized his reserved tone.
Verna peered suspiciously at him for a moment and then stepped close to press her fingers to the sides of his temples. She jerked her hands back as she let out a little cry of dismay, as if the touch had burned her fingers.
“Dear spirits,” she whispered, her eyes widening. “You, you–”
“We know,” Kahlan said. “Like I mentioned before, it’s a long story and as you can tell, Richard is in trouble.”
Chase made a face as he hooked his thumb on his belt. “When is Richard not in trouble?”
Nicci’s face contorted in agreement. “Isn’t that the truth.”
Richard waved a hand for patience and turned to two small metal statues of shepherds that he had spotted set back in a recess of the alcove. When he grasped them he immediately felt them grow warm under his touch. As he held the statues, the enormous capstone slowly swung closed. Once it had again sealed the catacombs, the alarm bells throughout the surrounding corridors finally went silent.
Chase scratched his head as he peered about. “Well that would explain the alarms, if not what you were doing in there.”
Richard ignored the implied question as he cast a stern look at both Chase and Verna. “Don’t let anyone go in there. Don’t even let anyone try to get in there.”
“How would they get in?” Verna asked. “As far as I knew, that wasn’t even a cavern. We always thought it was simply a small place to sit on a bench and have a rest.”
“It’s a little more than that,” he said. “Keep people away from it.”
A scowl settled comfortably on her face. “How long has that passageway been sealed off?”
Richard glanced back at the stone briefly. “Since the great war, near to three thousand years ago.”
Her scowl hardened. “What’s in there?”
“The dead,” Nicci told her.
Verna straightened a little.
“And the spirits of the dead, I believe,” Richard added.
Verna’s jaw dropped. “Then what were all of you doing in there?”
“Traveling,” Richard said without explaining.
“Do you have anything to eat?” Cassia asked into the empty silence. “We’re all pretty hungry. I couldn’t find a rat down there to save my life.”