Page 118 of Phantom (Sword of Truth 10)

"Couldn't it be said that the battle against Darken Rahl was a false fork? Ann and Nathan didn't know enough at the time—not enough events had unfolded, so they went down that fork, preparing Richard to fight Darken Rahl, not Jagang. But this prophecy says, 'If fuer grissa ost drauka does not lead this final battle, then the world, already standing at the brink of darkness, will fall under that terrible shadow.'

"That terrible shadow is the power of Orden unleashed by the Sisters of the Dark. They want to darken the world of life. Ann, Nathan, and Richard were preparing for the wrong battle. This is the battle he was meant to fight."

Zedd paced, his face creased in thought. He halted, finally, and turned to her. "Maybe, Nicci. Maybe. You've spent a great deal more time studying prophecy than I have. Maybe you have something.

"But then, maybe you don't. Prophecy, as Nathan has explained, is not subject to study the way you have just explained. Prophecy is a means of communication between prophets. It can't necessarily be studied, analyzed, or understood by those without the gift for prophecy.

"Just like Ann and Nathan may have jumped to conclusions without sufficient information, I think it's also too early for you to draw such conclusions."

Nicci nodded, conceding his point. "I hope you're right, Zedd—I really do. This is not an argument I want to win. I'm only bringing it up because I think we need to consider the implications."

He nodded. "There is something else to consider. Richard doesn't take to prophecy. He is a creature of free will, and prophecy has a way of having to open up to accommodate him. In this case, with Darken Rahl, maybe Darken Rahl was a false fork, but had he won there are prophetic roots to cover that eventuality as well. Proponents of prophecy would have pointed to them to confirm that Darken Rahl was the true root. We would now find ourselves on one of those other branches, and this one would be false. You can find a prophecy to support just about any belief."

"I don't know," Nicci said as she ran her fingers back through her hair, "perhaps you're right."

She was so tired. She needed to get some sleep; maybe then she could think more clearly. Maybe her worry was causing her to race down false trails.

"There is no way we can say at this point if the copies of The Book of Counted Shadows, the one I found and the one Richard knows, are true keys or false."

"So, what are we going to do?" she asked.

Zedd halted his pacing and faced her. "We're going to get Richard back, and he is going to find a way to stop this threat."

Nicci smiled. He had a way of making her feel better in the darkest of times—just the way Richard did.

"But I'll tell you one thing," Zedd said. "Before that time comes, we had better find out if the key he memorized is the true or the false key."

Nicci closed the cover on The Book of Life and picked it up, holding it in the crook of her arm. "I need to learn this whole book, cover to cover. I need to find out if there is a way to do what Richard asked of me—take the boxes back out of play, or somehow annul the threat.

"Failing that, I had better know it inside and out so that I can hopefully be useful to Richard in finding an answer to it all."

Zedd appraised her eyes. "That's going to be a great deal of work. It's going to take a lot of time—a book that complex could take months to fully understand. I only hope we have that much time. I have to say, though, that I agree with you. I guess that you had better get started right away."

Nicci slipped the book back into a pocket in her dress. "I guess that I had better. There may be books here that would help. If there are any I can think of, or that are mentioned, I'll let you know. From what I've seen so far, there are technical matters I may need help with. If I get stuck, I could use the help of the First Wizard."

Zedd smiled. "You have it, my dear."

She shook a finger at him. "But if you come up with a way to find Richard, you had better tell me before you finish having the thought."

Zedd's smile widened. "Agreed."

"What if we don't find Lord Rahl?" Cara asked.

The other two stared at her. Thunder rumbled through the distant valley. Rain pattered steadily against the windows.

"Well get him back," Nicci insisted, refusing to consider the unthinkable.

"Nothing is ever easy," Zedd muttered.

* * *

CHAPTER 54

Despite how weary she was of riding, Kahlan was awestruck by the sight rising up in the distance. Past a dark flood tide of men of the Imperial Order, across the purple-gray shadows settling across the vast plain, rose an enormous plateau, catching the last golden rays of the setting sun.

On that plateau stood a place as vast as any city. The high outer walls glowed in the waning evening light. White marble, stucco, and stone making up the vast array of buildings in an endless variety of sizes, shapes, and heights shimmered with the departing blush of daylight. Roofs sheltered the place from the coming cold night of the dying season as if gathering it all up under protective skirts.

It was like seeing something good, something noble, something beautiful, after all she had seen for endless weeks of travel had been grim, brooding men restless for someone upon whom to vent their vile nature.

It felt to Kahlan as if it were a desecration having these men in the shadow of such a place as this. She felt ashamed to be among the profane rabble gathered at the feet of such a shining accomplishment of man so proudly rising up before them. Just looking at the place for some reason made her heart sing. Though she couldn't recall ever having seen it before, she felt as if she should have.

All around them were grunting men, baying mules, snorting horses, creaking wagons, and the clang of armor and weapons—the sounds of the beast come to slay all that was good. The stench was like a toxic cloud that always followed along with them to serve to remind anyone they came upon just how unwholesome these men really were. As if anyone would need the additional clue.

All around Kahlan rode the special guards who for weeks now had kept a watchful eye on her. There were forty-three of them. Kahlan had counted so that she could keep track of them all. She had made it her business as they traveled to learn their faces, their habits. She knew which ones were clumsy, which were stupid, which were smart, and which were good with weapons. As a game while riding endless day after endless day, she studied their strengths and weaknesses, planning and visualizing how she could kill each and every last one of them.

So far, she had not killed any. She had decided that her best chance in the long run was to go along, for now, with whatever she was told to do, to be compliant, to be obedient. The men had all been warned that she belonged to Jagang, and they were not to lay a finger on her—except to keep her from escaping.

Kahlan wanted to blend into the monotony of daily life, to have the men guarding her become lulled into thinking of her as innocuous, harmless, even cowed, so that she became just another one of their tedious chores. She'd had a number of opportunities to kill several of the men. She never took that opportunity, no matter how easy it would have been, choosing instead to let them feel comfortable, safe, even bored with her. Such inattention to the danger she represented would one day serve her better than a useless attack that for now could not really accomplish anything. It would not help her escape, and would only cause Jagang to use the collar—if not his hands—to bring her pain. While he needed no excuse, she saw no purpose to giving him a good one.

The only one not lulled into indifference and carelessness was Jagang himself. He did not misjudge her, or her will. He seemed to enjoy watching her tactics, even tactics as uninteresting as doing nothing. Like her, he carried patience in his arsenal. He was the only one not to let his guard down for an instant. Kahlan thought that he knew precisely what she was doing.

She ignored him as well; even if he knew what she was doing, she reasoned that it still diminished the level of caution he could maintain when nothing ever happened. Waiting for something that never came was wearing, even if you knew it was i

nevitable. Even if he knew that she would eventually try something, weeks and weeks of her meek compliance would buy her the element of surprise, even if it was only a momentary surprise. That instant of advantage might be all that made the difference when the time came.

Sometimes, though, she could not ignore him. When he was in a foul mood and she angered him—usually by her mere presence, not anything that she did—he would beat her bloody. Twice she had had to be healed by a Sister lest she bleed to death. When he was in one of his truly vile moods, it usually ended up being a great deal worse than a simple beating. He was a very inventive man when it came to how to abuse a woman. When he was in an abusive mood, not simple pain but humiliation seemed to fascinate him. She had learned that he would not stop until he made her finally cry for one reason or another.

If she did cry, it was only when she could not help it, when she fell to depths of such pain, or humiliation, or despair, that she simply could not hold back her tears. Jagang enjoyed watching her cry, then. She did not do it just to give in, to make him stop what he was doing, but only because she was at a point where she could not help herself. And that was what he liked seeing.

At other times he would bring women to his tent while Kahlan had to stay on the carpet beside the bed, where she was always made to sleep, as if she were his dog. He usually brought some unfortunate, captive woman who was less than willing. He seemed to seek out captives who most feared his attention, and then gave them a violent introduction to being a slave to the emperor and his bed. When he fell asleep, Kahlan would hold the terrified woman, tell her that things would one day be better and comfort her as best she could.

He might have done it because he enjoyed such things, but that was only a side benefit. His real objective was to constantly remind Kahlan of what would happen to her once her memory returned.

Kahlan intended it never to return. Her memory would be her undoing.

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