Kahlan woke up from a gentle nudge and found her companion already ambling about the tent. Cara was dressed from head to foot in her leathers, the Mord'Sith uniform a metaphorical barrier. Her hair cascaded over her face as she bent over to gather her bedroll, still wet from a morning swim and haphazardly dried as evidenced by droplets interwoven into her hair like jewels. Though her stance was tense, her face revealed nothing.

Kahlan had never agonized so consciously about anyone's emotions before. Her role as Mother Confessor gave her power over the masks people wore but with Cara, she sometimes ran into a blank wall.

Richard was easier to read. Everything about Richard was easier than Cara Mason.

With Richard, mornings were greeted with a smile, with a verdict that all would be well as he hefted his Sword of Truth and prepared everyone's breakfast. He was unambiguously warmhearted and it was easy to believe that the simple woods man from Westland could overcome the dark. In their quest, Richard Cypher had spiritedly chased away her own demons and she became conscious of a world that she thought she had missed when she was a child.

He was the Seeker, with the disposition and passion for it. For a long time she had stayed in the comfort of that glow. She had walked so ably and so confidently by his side. Without his presence now, her thoughts were hanging on a dangerous precipice.

Last night was one instance. It had made her painfully aware of how things had changed between Cara and her, between her former understanding of who Cara was and the Cara she beheld now. It also made her aware that the world could not be halved into light and dark, good and bad. Somehow, Cara fell in the spaces between.

Her confusion had been compounded by last night, when Cara wore that blasted white shirt. The light from the lamp had lent it and its owner a warm, ethereal glow. Cara's cheeks were pink, her hair flaxen like the color of Galean wheat under a setting sun. Cara's proximity was charged with something she could not name.

Much to Kahlan's chagrin, Cara's lips had looked like the proverbial red fruit, luscious, dangerous and ripe for the picking; Kahlan had a hard time imagining they were anything else. When she had looked up to meet Cara's gaze, those penetrating, ice-blue eyes softened into a color that she wished she could comprehend so that she could somehow commit it to memory. Thinking back, Kahlan should have faced her demons on her own and slept in her own tent.

She would have sighed if Cara had not broken her reverie.

"Kahlan."

She felt her cheeks grow warm, as her eyesight focused and found the Mord'Sith giving her an odd, very curious look.

"Were you staring at me all this time?"

"Of course not."

Cara raised her brow as though she doubted her statement. "It's an hour before dawn. We have to get going."

Setting aside her thoughts for later, Kahlan stood up and joined in the preparation.

Cara gave no indication that last night had been an anomaly in their friendship. She went through the usual, precise motions of saddling the horses. She held the remains of dinner in one hand, taking measured bites of the stew wrapped in hard bread.

Kahlan had fond memories of Cara's approximations of breakfast, usually something she had burned to a crisp the night before.

As she gathered her packs, Kahlan noticed Cara Rahl standing beneath the eaves of a small maple tree a few feet away, perhaps scrutinizing the Mord'Sith's technique. Amihan was sitting at her feet, playing with the wooden troops Berdine had graciously lent her.

Seeing Kahlan approach, Cara Rahl gave her a smile, which overshadowed even the scar cleaving her face. It was without its fetters, something she saw in her own Cara so rarely but which seemed so commonplace for Cara Rahl. Laugh lines and the quirk of her lips, her bright eyes and slightly redder cheeks made small, meaningful articulations of mirth or receptiveness.

The Lord bent down to inform Amihan of their visitor.

Immediately, Amihan forgot the army she was commanding, the wooden squad forgotten across the Grove floor as she got to her feet and ran to Kahlan with the exuberance of a summer parade. Kahlan anticipated the running jump and caught the little girl, pulling Amihan to her like a woman drowning.

"Hey," Kahlan whispered, pressing her nose to Amihan's hair.

The scents were familiar, from a world that seemed far, far away. Her fingers threading into Amihan's cloak, Kahlan's eyes widened slightly as she studied the textures more fully in her hand. She dared a glimpse at Cara Rahl's direction. The Lord was trying to hide her smile by preparing her own horse and inspecting the saddle.

It was obvious that Amihan Amnell-Rahl had been bathed with soap imported by brave merchants from the Midlands' north. It owned a clean, subtly lavender smell with distinct traces of rare oils from Nicobarese. She wore a deep green vest, the silver inlays interleaving across her chest. The wool beneath had been woven from the vertical looms of Kelton, dyed with shellfish from their lakes. Her cloak was thick, lined with sable fur only the nobles of Galea wore. It was a texture Kahlan associated with the deep, Aydindril winters, with the warmth that was so rare during those times. Amihan's cloak was fastened by a silver broach and on that broach was the symbol Kahlan had found at the bottom of Cara Rahl's bowl.

There was no doubt as to whom Amihan's other mother was, or which nations she ruled. The child was clothed in her love.

"Inya, good morning!" Amihan kissed her, gave her a quick squeeze and then proceeded to reach into her pockets. She retrieved hard bread and cheese wrapped in cloth, the crumbs tumbling down Kahlan's front. "I saved it for you and," she glanced furtively at the Mord'Sith, "my other inya. But she's having stew from last night."

"You never find it strange that you have so many inya's present, do you?" Kahlan mused.

"No."

"If she could have six of us, she would," Cara Rahl said good-naturedly. "I wouldn't mind, either."

As though to make her point, the Lord's eyes coasted over Kahlan from head to a foot, a gentle yet intense scrutiny akin to a caress. Her enigmatic smile told of numberless memories that concerned them both, intimate and mundane. It dared her to ask questions, to doubt.

Immediately, Kahlan dropped her gaze.

From Cara the Mord'Sith's look, it seemed that she did mind if there were more copies of them and she crossly handed Kahlan the reins.

"The faster we get to the People's Palace, the faster we can return to our world."

Seven was the number the Lord Rahl chose for her party. At Amihan's insistence, Kahlan rode with the little girl in the center of a protective group composed of Berdine, two capable Alkarian soldiers, Cara and the Lord Rahl.

Taking the rear guard, Cara seemed more standoffish than ever, her eyes roaming the surrounding knolls and inspecting the shadows behind towering rocks or trees. She was perpetually observant, her hands ghosting over her weapons, her creaking leathers a stark reminder of just how dangerous she was despite her relaxed air.

Cara Rahl was just as vigilant, her power pounding against Kahlan's magical walls like an insistent drum at the eve of a siege. The power which was so obvious to the magically gifted and her rending scar were direct contrasts to her seemingly more quiet nature. Just like Cara the Mord'Sith, the quality was feline, a tiger lounging in the shade with an eye on her prey.

The Lord directed all of them wordlessly in a secret, universal language that had been notched into all her movements. It was expressive in an authoritative way, a learned skill composed of the crisp and concise movements of a general. Cara the Mord'Sith had them too but her hold of it was cruder, a more primal dialect that forced one to heel or to acquiesce

Berdine had a healthy respect for her Lord's more subtle commands, suddenly urging them to stop as the Lord Rahl rode forward and began to fashion several spells in gestures and muttered verses.

The gateway.

Kahlan knew at once that the powers the Lord Rahl was using could indemnify energy spent building cities. She could feel the invisible cords holding the world around her tighten and lurch as reality literally bent to Cara Rahl's will. In her mind's eye, the Rahl was the puppeteer, skillfully interleaving power on power to produce the effect she wanted.

This was going to take more than a few minutes.

Berdine had already dismounted, prompting all but the Lord Rahl to do so. The captain seemed appreciative that the Lord had chosen an elevated path instead of a place that would have been more easily ambush. She ordered the Alkarian soldiers to remain on their horses to scout the vicinity.

She eventually arrived at Kahlan's side, smiling as she gave Amihan another small wooden soldier, this one looking suspiciously like her. Despite their almost violent meeting, Amihan had warmed to Berdine, perhaps picking up on Cara's trust and the decorated mutual past her mother had with Berdine.

The little girl thanked her promptly, frowning as she studied the woodwork and then compared its image to the captain before her. She did not think much of it for long, sitting on a rock nearby and reaching into her pouch for the wooden warrior's other companions.

Turning to Kahlan, Berdine asked, "You wanted to ask me something?"

Once again, Kahlan emerged flummoxed at Berdine's sharpness. "How did you? I mean, I didn't..."

Berdine simply waited.

Kahlan became quiet, her gaze drawn to the woman weaving the gateway as she treated the world like her loom. Then her eyes fell on Cara the Mord'Sith, who stalked the same world with as much unmitigated grace but with seemingly less authority. During their quest, Cara's decisions with regards to her Lord were almost always impetuous and final. Lately, for someone who rarely hesitated even in the act of killing, Cara seemed...indecisive of whoever held the other end of her Bond. And this time, it was by no fault of Kahlan's or the Seeker's.

It was a peculiar change, one that Kahlan was willing to investigate.

"Tell me how Cara became the Lord Rahl."

"That's more than I expected," Berdine said sincerely, laughing. "I doubt the story would fit in the time given to us right now."

"Give me an idea. Please."

"You ought to ask her yourself. It's not my story to tell." Berdine's gaze turned to the ground, as though the courage to explain could be found there. She seemed to instantly regret having started the conversation. "We had our share of tragedies during Darken's time. Cara was braver than most, than all of us."

"I…see."

"Do you?" Cara Rahl asked, appearing suddenly beside them.

Cara Rahl had dismounted, slightly out of breath. Her features seemed drawn, her aura mute. The creation of the gateway had drained her.

She raised a questioning brow in Berdine's direction. The captain cleared her throat and looked away. Kahlan herself tried not to look apologetic, setting her attention to the gateway itself.

The magical door, if one could call it that, was a roiling mass of blues and greens, in a shape concurrent to that of a breaking ocean wave when looked at sideways. It fit one person abreast his or her horse, and like a thing alive, seemed to swallow and regurgitate the scenery surrounding it. Behind chaotic, marbled colors, one could make out a small clearing with trees hiding a majestic view of a river.

Kahlan pursed her lips derisively. She had stepped through many gates in her life. Another one could not possibly hurt.

As though forgetting that she had been the topic of the conversation, Cara Rahl opened her arms grandly, though weakly. "Well, if you could all step through the gate one-by-one and I'll close it behind us as we go. Quickly, now."

Berdine and her two soldiers went first, followed by Cara. With Amihan in Kahlan's arms, she stepped towards the gate, the magical artifact oscillating as it accepted her form. She felt Amihan's arms tighten around her as they both felt a rush of jarring frigidity similar to what one would feel jumping into a mountain lake. It was numbing and after a while, almost tranquil as light all but took her entire field of vision. It did not last for long.

There was absolute chaos at the other side.

Berdine was screaming, her sword ringing against a flurry of other weapons. She was already on her horse, slashing at masked men below her and allowing the animal to crush anyone in the way.

The crunch of bones, a few tortured wails, then, "Protect the Lord Rahl! Protect the heir!"

Still slightly shivering and almost certainly half-blind from the effects of the gateway, Cara did not have to be told twice. Her Agiels squealed from their holsters, their familiar heft lending all that she needed for her blood to start boiling in the pleasant temperatures of wrath.

She stepped forward blindly, her stance low as she stabbed the first villain in the gut, the burning pain of the Agiel doubling him over. Arcing into another offensive blow, she hit the next one in the head, splitting his lip open. Already, the air was beginning to smell like blood.

Cara grinned. This was something she never ceased to enjoy. This was a welcome reprieve from everything.

She stole a glance of the gateway just as Kahlan and Amihan stepped through.

Cara shouted, "Kahlan! The girl!" To Berdine and the two soldiers, she snapped, "Rally to the gateway!"

She proceeded to cut a circle around the magical artifact, her Agiels singing as Berdine and the two soldiers followed her lead in forming a defensive perimeter. Nearing Kahlan, who was still holding her head as she tried to orient herself, Cara kicked an oncoming assailant, sending the poor man flailing backwards into another charging group. The delay she created allowed her to scoop Amihan from Kahlan's arms and launch the girl onto the bay horse.

Amihan grabbed the saddle, her face and knuckles ashen as bit back her fear. The child watched Kahlan take her place behind Amihan shortly afterward, looking for all the world like this was all normal. Cara admired the quality and knew that it must have been partly hers. Emotions in the midst of battle was something not many could tether, much less a child.

In a few seconds, the Mother Confessor's sword was drawn, a more appropriate weapon on horseback than her knives. She held Amihan in place with one hand as she urged the nervous animal into the middle of the protective semi-circle Berdine and Cara had contrived.

The moment Cara Rahl stepped through the gateway; Cara knew that something was going to go terribly wrong.

It was a band of thirty against seven. One of Berdine's experienced veterans –the first one through the gateway –was fighting just as vigorously as the rest despite several bleeding cuts, covering an area that otherwise would have been relegated to two men. To everyone's surprise, she was immediately dispatched in a spray of blood by a strange-looking melee weapon. In the ensuing chaos Cara watched as a flash of blonde breached the defensive line.

Cara recognized her and the star-like weapon she wielded immediately.

Nicci. A Dacra.

And something else. A seamless, metal circlet.

The gateway winked out of existence as Cara Rahl leaned helplessly against her horse, the dust beneath her feet stirring from the sudden absence of magic. Her face was in a grimace as she tried to move forward or grasp a spell from whatever remained of her reserves. Lightning sparked between her fingertips, the air rattled, and the hairs on Cara's back began to stand on end. Anyone else in Cara Rahl's domain would have given her berth.

It was too late when she recognized Nicci, her eyes widening as the sorceress approached her and snapped the Rada'Han around her neck.

Cara felt the Bond waver, the immediate fear which channeled through and heard Kahlan cry out as Cara Rahl fell to the ground, unconscious or dead.

TBC