The Mord'Sith's red leathers clung uncomfortably to Cara's skin as she struggled to put one foot in front of the other.
The sun was high overhead and, though she would never admit it, Cara was overheated and weary from their eighth day traveling through the Annisen desert in an attempt to reach the Nawlee people at the eastern border of the sands.
She glanced at the Mother Confessor walking just ahead of her. A sheen of sweat glistened on Kahlan's pale neck, and from the movements of her back Cara could tell that her companion drew shallow, uneven breaths.
Cara halted, expelling the air in her mouth tiredly and raising her face to the bright white sun. She paused for a moment, gathering herself before speaking to Kahlan.
"Stop."
The Mother Confessor staggered determinedly forward, her gait as awkward as a newborn colt but without the energy.
"Kahlan," she tried again, the words scratching uncomfortably on her raw throat. She cleared her throat and licked her lips.
"What if Zedd was wrong? What if the enchantments here are still in place?" Cara rasped.
Kahlan's stride quickened, and Cara grumbled and launched herself into a run to catch up to the Mother Confessor.
"Kahlan!" she cried, grasping Kahlan's arm and pulling her around.
The Mother Confessor's face was wind-whipped, her lips dry and cracked. Her dark hair billowed around her face, giving her an aura of otherworldly power and strength, despite her sinking shoulders and dull eyes.
Kahlan's chest heaved and beads of sweat crept down her temples and nose, so that Cara couldn't tell if she had been crying or not. Kahlan stared pointedly at the ground to the left of the Mord'Sith, too tired to run.
The leather of Kahlan's arm bracers was hot and soft under Cara's fingers, and she gentled her grip, letting Kahlan's arm fall and feeling keenly the potent cocktail of heat, fear, and desperation swirling around them.
The Mord'Sith's initial commitment had been to serve and protect The Lord Rahl, but the longer she traveled with his party, the more deeply she had come to feel committed to the Mother Confessor as well.
Eyeing Kahlan, and deciding the Mother Confessor wasn't likely to take off again, Cara swung her pack down and let it drop onto the sand. She withdrew two lightweight blankets, and chanced a look at the Mother Confessor. Kahlan's gaze was still fixed on the ground behind Cara, her chest still shuddering as if threatening to collapse in on itself.
Cara shook out one blanket on the ground, scooping sand over the corners to prevent it from blowing away, and dropped her pack on the eastern edge of the blanket.
She approached Kahlan carefully but confidently, the way a mother approaches an overtired, sickly child who needs to rest but wants to play.
Kahlan's eyes suddenly flicked up to Cara's face, looking desperately into her companion's eyes. Cara gazed back for a moment before lowering her chin slightly and reaching for the shoulder straps of Kahlan's pack.
Cara eased the fingers of one hand beneath the sweat-dampened straps of the Mother Confessor's pack, and hoisted it up and off Kahlan's back with the other hand.
Kahlan shivered, the wind on her sweaty back bringing a surprising coolness and lightness to her system.
Before she knew what was happening, Kahlan was being gently pulled forward and pressed down onto the blanket on the sand.
Cara settled herself next to her companion and lifted the second blanket up over their heads and around their shoulders, like a cloak against the dry heat of the desert.
Kahlan's shoulders were tight and her eyes watered with exhaustion and sadness.
"Lean back," Cara said, touching Kahlan's shoulder and softly pushing her backwards until her back rested against their piled packs next to Cara, already resting there.
Kahlan released her body weight to be fully supported by the packs, and exhaled with relief.
Cara moved closer and drew the material tighter around them, trying to create as much shade as possible.
They sat in silence, the wind swirling around their ankles and rippling the blanket that Cara held fast around them.
"He's not coming back, is he?"
Cara tightened her jaw reflexively, memories of Richard being dragged away by a horde of banelings flashing involuntarily through her mind. Kahlan screaming and clawing at Cara as she held the Mother Confessor back. Richard's initial frenzied fighting, and his calm acceptance as he realized there were too many to fight off. The look she and Richard shared in the last moment before he was overwhelmed, his eyes flicking to Kahlan, back to Cara, and nodding at the Mord'Sith imperceptibly.
Feelings had never been, and never would be, Cara's forte, but they were cropping up inside her now like waves, and she couldn't control them.
Richard was gone, Zedd was dead in all likelihood, her Sisters were likely decimated by the Keeper during their last attempt to reclaim Richard's compass, and soon they would be food for the vultures, too.
They were miles from civilization, from all water sources and shelter, and, to be honest, they didn't have much reason to return to the civilized world anyways.
Cara's head dropped as a sudden wave of misery and failure swept through her, and a sob wracked her body.
The unexpected hand on her knee was not unwelcome, as Cara was overwhelmed with memories and the last bits of hope and strength drained out of her, sucked dry by the desert winds.
If this was to be their end, they would see it out together, Cara supposed. She didn't even have the energy to censor her feelings of desperation and loss at the thought of perishing here in the desert, at having failed Lord Rahl. And having failed Kahlan.
The weight of Kahlan's hand on her knee lifted, and Cara felt the cool, dry skin of Kahlan's fingers beneath her chin, tipping her head upright and towards the Mother Confessor.
Cara's wet cheeks and trembling lips showed clearly her uncharacteristic turmoil. She looked directly at Kahlan, leaning into the hand on her cheek.
"You - you wanted so badly to be with him again," Cara started, "but I couldn't - I wouldn't let you go alone into the desert on a fool's errand."
Cara's voice elevated in its intensity and fervor, "And I had to stop you before you killed yourself trying to - "
"Shhh. Cara," said Kahlan, smiling weakly.
"I know," Kahlan said. "You're right. I couldn't accept the - the loss of Richard," she swallowed and pause, "and I was unwilling to believe that I couldn't redo that day if I could just reach the Nawlee people and overcome their enchantments. If I could prove that my love was true, that I could pass through their desert enchantments unharmed, and then they would have to help me..." Kahlan trailed off.
Cara's eyes fluttered closed and her hand came up to press Kahlan's against her own cheek.
Kahlan sighed. "I was so angry and determined, and - and wild. But then you came after me. And I was so furious with you for following me!" she exclaimed.
Green eyes found blue eyes.
"I'm sorry for the last eight days, Cara," said Kahlan quietly, her hand dropping to Cara's lap, still gently grasping the hand that Cara had pressed on top of hers.
"For ignoring you. For shutting you out. For wandering around in this stupid, ridiculous purgatory that -" Kahlan's voice was approaching a wail, and the tremor in her voice belied her utter and genuine regret at their situation. She paused and she allowed her tone to melt into a warmer, lower register that communicated only sincere apology and warmth. "It's my fault that you're here, and it's my fault that we'll probably never leave this desert."
Cara's eyes were shut tightly, and Kahlan squeezed the Mord'Sith's hand.
"Cara?"
The blanket shuddered around them and the grains of sand pricked at any patch of bare skin not covered by their clothing. They sat together in silence for several minutes, the reassuring texture of the other's hands a boon in an otherwise giftless wasteland.
Cara felt hot air brush her face, and it crossed her mind that the breeze was like the warm breath of the Spirits, concentrated on her face by this hot place. Perhaps she had gone her whole life without a moment of holiness or contact with the Spirits, only to be confronted with it in full force moments before her death in this bizarrely cursed and blessed valley of sand.
"I had no choice, Mother Confessor," Cara whispered finally. "I couldn't let you be alone in your grief. And if," she paused for breath, inhaling and exhaling shortly before lowering her gaze to the ground, where the sand was beginning to creep over the edge of their blanket.
"If you truly meant to either reach the Nawlee camp or die trying, then this is exactly where I want to be," she said in a low, even voice, holding tightly to the Mother Confessor's hand.
Kahlan's lip quivered, her eyes flicking toward heaven and eyebrows lifting as tears filled her eyes. The gentle pressure of Cara's hand in hers was the only anchor in this sand-swirled, topsy turvy world. And, to be honest, the only one she'd ever truly felt safe relying on since meeting the Mord'Sith last year.
Cara's subtle ways of showing affection and attention had never gone unnoticed by the Mother Confessor, and she had observed that Cara would allow Kahlan's touch where others would be rebuffed.
The constant presence and unwavering commitment of the Mord'Sith to Kahlan's safety and wellbeing had been a comfort throughout the trials and errors of Richard's career as Seeker, and although they had never spoken a word of it nor exchanged so much as a hug (except for the time they had been sealed into the crypt and genuinely believed they were on the brink of certain death), there had always been an unspoken, tender, and weighty connection between the Mord'Sith and the Mother Confessor.
Kahlan was grateful to be with strong, stubborn, even gentle, Cara, if the end was near.
Mind at ease or exhausted, for the moment, Kahlan pulled her feet tighter under her body and leaned sideways, resting her head on Cara's lap and wrapping her arms around Cara's torso.
For a few breaths, the other woman stayed still, as if caught in a trance.
Then Kahlan felt Cara lean over her curled body, tucking the blanket over their heads beneath Kahlan's feet and gently lifting and resettling it over Kahlan's form.
Kahlan's eyes drifted shut and she curled into Cara's body. She felt an arm come to rest over her shoulders, and long fingers gently stroking her temples, her hairline, smoothing the hair behind her ears.
I wish I knew if this were Heaven or Hell, Kahlan thought as her mind grew fuzzy. Whichever it is, please don't let me go on alone, Kahlan begged, an empty, silent prayer.
Both women tightened their grip on the other, as if daring the hot wind to tear them apart.
"Please -" Kahlan's lips formed the word before she fell into an exhausted sleep, arms around Cara's waist and hair entangled with the other woman's fingers.
Kahlan awoke shivering and confused in the dark, cool air caressing her skin and unfamiliar, animated voices approaching. Her stiff neck made itself known immediately, but on attempting to rise, she found that Cara had come to rest upon her. They were tangled together awkwardly, tightly, like tangled reins.
The voices were louder now, and Kahlan extricated herself from the cocoon of warmth between Cara's chest and legs, gently grasping the other woman's arms and lifting into a seated position.
A tired moan escaped Cara's lips as her head lolled forward. Kahlan chided herself. Normally, Cara would never be caught unawares or be unable to be awakened. Although Cara did not always take care of herself, she never let herself get to the point where she was unable to defend the Seeker or the Mother Confessor. And look at her now, thought Kahlan. They were lucky the dehydration and heat hadn't killed either of them yet.
Kahlan brought her fingers to Cara's lips and gently shook the woman's shoulder. Wild eyes flew open and Cara's hands came up to rip threatening hands away.
The firmness and warmth of Cara's grip was simultaneously unsettling and reassuring, and Kahlan gestured for silence, pointing outside of their makeshift tent.
The two women listened intently, hidden by their sandy blanket and the drifts of sand that had collected around them, as the voices increased in volume and then began drifting away.
Kahlan looked at Cara desperately, and an unspoken agreement was reached.
Cara ripped off the blanket and dashed toward the vanishing figures, shouting, "Wait! Stop!" in the direction of the voices slowly disappearing into the night. She halted and bent, palms resting on her thighs, not caring for a moment that her posture was less than intimidating and more than pathetic.
Silence.
Kahlan caught up with the other woman, laying a hand flat on Cara's back and staring with dread into the darkness.
This must be Hell, she thought. Why else send someone so near only to leave us behind?
Cara fell to her knees onto the sand, a pale gray ocean under the moonlight. Kahlan knelt behind her and held the other woman tightly from behind, twining her fingers with Cara's and pressing into her, sealing them together against the cold.
Two pairs of eyes drooped shut, and every last drop of energy between them evaporated.
When the figures approached again, to Kahlan and Cara their voices sounded muted, faraway, as if in a dream. The words they uttered sounded so familiar, yet were unintelligible.
The people tried to lift the women off the ground and onto a shifting, warm surface - a horse? The thought surfaced in Cara's mind that perhaps she should fight back, should protect Kahlan - but her muscles ached and sleep beckoned. She felt Kahlan's form being pulled away from her, and it was all she could do to clench Kahlan's hand tightly.
The bumpy warmth beneath her disappeared and she felt her body falling, coming to rest on what felt like the ground again. But everything was moving strangely, and her eyes couldn't focus. She was momentarily surprised to feel her companion's hand still firmly intertwined with her own.
The ground shifted beneath her and her last memory before falling asleep was a deep, dark purple sky freckled with stars and a distant, pale face beside her, sprinkled with darker freckles.