1
It was a delicious night, but one dessert could not sate the ravenous hunger which lived deep inside Cara. It chewed at her night after night, and for the first time in weeks she had finally been able to name it and call it out from the depths. She still chased the burst of the surface level pleasure; as if burrowing her fingers inside another would find her some purchase in this world, as if being pinned down and thrust into would give her something to remember. Rarely was Cara full from a meal, she was always looking for the next best thing.
The barmaid beside her and the strange man curled up on the floor next to her bed were fine lovers. The woman's tightly curled hair kept it's shape in the morning, the sun filtered through it at the edges like a halo. Her dark skin shone in contrast to the bland, colorless view of the subpar inn room which surrounded her. Cara reached out a hand to squeeze the woman's thick thigh and smiled a bit, but the woman did not rouse. Her head lolled to the side, her muscled arm stretched out as she looked over at the man. His back was scratched with hot cuts and his ass was beginning to bruise. It had indeed been an eventful night. Cara had half a mind to crawl down to him, take him in her mouth, and start the process all over again. Maybe he would even let her… no, she wouldn't take him down that road. He had a husband and children, Cara wouldn't give him the taste of something he would likely never have again. Like the honey cakes she was allowed only once a year as a child, the touch of the Agiel to some was like a delicacy. And you never did know if they would allow you a honey cake ever again, but you could be sure that all the young girls at the temple spoke about them as often as was allowed. But Creator, would he love it.
There was a knock at the door, not entirely urgent, but not entirely gentle either.
"It's Kahlan," said a voice on the other end. "Are you awake?"
"Yes, are we-" before she could finish, Kahlan had found her way in. Her usually intelligent and unwavering blue eyes were widened ever so slightly with shock. "It's barely mid morning, are we leaving so soon?"
"I… yes… we need to leave right now. Who…"
"I have no idea," Cara said flippantly. Her breasts were soft against her chest as she propped herself up using her elbows. It occurred to Cara that the Mother Confessor may have never seen naked forms such as these before. Kahlan's eyes darted from the woman to the man, from her breasts to his wounds. "Sorry, I didn't think to lock the door."
"I… no, it's all right. Please come down quickly, though," Kahlan said, and left just as abruptly as she had come. There was not a feeling of shock at the sight of Cara's conquests, but rather a feeling of envy. The way Cara had a lover sprawled out beside her and under her, the soft skin touching softer skin, the hard muscle of Cara's arms and abdomen. It made Kahlan feel warm in a way she didn't often feel. She couldn't quite make out if she was more envious of Cara, or of the woman and man in her bed.
Instead of circling deeper into that thought, Kahlan adjusted the tie on the top of her traveling cloak and made her way down to the tavern. She ordered breakfasts for the three of them, warm bowls of porridge and eidel fruit, and sat down. Kahlan didn't have enough experience to imagine what had happened in Cara's room last night, but she couldn't get the image of Cara's hands out of her head. The way they grabbed her own hands must have felt just as good when they were trailing down that woman's stomach, or grabbing the buttocks of the man. The wetness between their legs would pool into a sticky mess, and their chests would heave as-
"There is nothing better to start a journey than a bowl of porridge, my dear," Zedd exclaimed, cutting into the frame of Kahlan's daydreams. Not realizing where her thoughts had gone, her bowl of porridge had been untouched before her, in spite of her growling stomach. "Where is Cara? She is always so late."
"Don't worry, I woke her up already. She'll be down soon," Kahlan said, rolling her lips together and pushing the porridge around with her spoon. "I already made some horse arrangements, which should expedite our travel. It shouldn't be more than a four day's ride into the Old World. With luck, we may be able to meet up with Richard. There is no way he has gotten from the Old World to Aydindril without crossing our path."
"I was ruminating over that, Kahlan. There is no way that Richard would have the powers to summon a Mist Ephemer. It is a spell only wizards of experience and ancient knowledge would have. To conjure up a creature from the Lucid Plane is a magic far beyond Richard's capabilities, even with his mixed bloodlines," Zedd told her, somehow managing to still shovel in the porridge.
Kahlan was only half listening, however, because Cara was coming down the steps and heading towards her. Kahlan looked at the way her leathers tightened around her strong arms, and just a bit too much in the soft place between her legs. Cara's naked body now felt different, more charged, than before. The catlike way her muscles obeyed her crackled with electricity. The purse in her full lips was deadly.
"If it's not Richard's message, whose is it?" Cara asked simply, having eavesdropped on the conversation all the way from the other side of the room. "Who wants us in Aydindril?"
"I'm not sure. Not Richard, but whoever sent it may not know of our plans. Let's try and keep it that way. We should press forward and from here on out, ignore any correspondence that we may get from Richard, believable or not. The boy can take care of himself for now, we'll find him on our way back," Zedd told them. Kahlan could see the pain in his eyes, for she had it too. However, she knew that the fate of the world couldn't wait, and she trusted that if Richard had gotten this far, whatever waited for him between now and the Summer Solstice wouldn't kill him so easily.
"The faster we get rid of these Baneling hordes and get back to killing real people, the better," Cara nodded, somehow having put away her entire bowl of porridge in the last two minutes. "Let's get going, I want the first pick of the horses," Cara said, smiling at Kahlan before getting up and moving to the door. Kahlan had been preoccupied, but she knew the beginning of a game when she saw it. Contrary to what most people thought, after having traveled with Cara for so long, Kahlan had learned that the Mord-Sith loved good competition.
Kahlan barely made it to the door, slinging her pack over her shoulder, before Cara burst into a run. Her legs pumped and carried her swiftly to the stable, where three horses were tied up. Kahlan could already tell which was the one that Cara had wanted, because she had asked for it specifically with her in mind. She could feel herself laughing as she ran after Cara, her own dark hair flowing behind her like a flag. Kahlan caught up to Cara close to the stable, and to her own surprise she tried to push the Mord-Sith out of the way. Laughing too, Cara pushed Kahlan back a little too hard, which gave her the distance she needed to hold onto the reins of the brown horse.
"That was a dirty trick, Mother Confessor," Cara smiled, bigger than Kahlan had ever seen. Kahlan smiled too, the gesture from such a serious person was infectious. "But I have prevailed. Now to wait for the old man."
"I let you win," Kahlan protested softly, pulling on the reins of the other two horses as Zedd came out from the tavern. The white one she would take for herself, as was customary for the Mother Confessor- the stablemaster wouldn't let her say otherwise.
Kahlan and Cara waited to mount their horses until Zedd had come over and everyone had packed their belongings into the saddle bags, and it wasn't long until they were miles outside of Oakhurst and heading south to the misty gates of the Old World. As Kahlan pushed to the front of their flotilla, she smiled secretly to herself- even in bed with one the most beautiful woman and handsome man Kahlan had seen, Cara hadn't grinned as loudly as she had when she raced Kahlan to their horses.
Why, Kahlan asked herself with intention, did that matter to her?
2
The fire crackled as the low flames ate more of the wood they were granted. The desert skies overhead were a spectacular purple, the kind of color you could fall into if you weren't careful. It was nights like these that reminded Richard of watching Kahlan while she slept, hungry for her affection. It pained him, but at the same time it gave him something to work toward. Through this odyssey he would find his love, find the Stone of Tears, and seal the rift to the Underworld. That is, through the friends he had entrusted with the fate of the world. Zedd, powerful and wise. Kahlan, strong and noble. Cara, cunning and loyal. Together, even without him, Richard knew they would complete their task.
Surprisingly, the deep cuts in the earth had not yet arrived in the Old World. Richard was expecting to be forced to find a way to push through hoards of Banelings without his sword, but the most he had come across was a desperate traveler attempting to steal from them. The kind soul that he was, Richard gave the man some food and sent him on his way with nothing more than a scratch from being tackled to the ground. Food was hard to find in the desert, and Richard was learning this the hard way.
"Richard, where is your family?" Merri asked, her legs tucked beneath her in the sand. It was cool enough now, at dusk, to sit on the sand without burning their skin. "You don't talk about home."
"I'm from Heartland, but my family travels a lot. I'm not sure where they are, although I hope they are safe wherever they may be," Richard smiled at the young girl. He clasped his hands in front of himself and stared into the fire, imagining Kahlan on the other side of it.
"Do you have a wife?" Bron asked through Merri, laying on his back in the sand. He used something called sight runes, making shapes with his hands to convey words. Only Merri seemed to know what he was talking about.
"No, I don't have a wife," Richard chuckled.
"A husband?" Bron followed up.
"Not a husband either, no."
"But you do have someone special. I can see it in your eyes," Merri smiled. "Tell us the story."
"Her name is Kahlan. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Richard began. "She crossed the boundary using a Night Wisp, chased by D'Haran soldiers, almost killed, just to find me."
"Why?" Merri interrupted.
"She needed me for an emergency," Richard continued. "Someone bad was going to hurt a lot of people, and I was the only one who could help. So I agreed to help Kahlan, and the more I traveled with her, the more I found myself wanting to be close to her always. It didn't take much convincing on my part to believe myself… she is so smart, so strong, and more capable than I am. Kahlan saved my life probably ten times over, and I can only hope to return the favor to her now that I know better. So all I can try to do is get back to her, so we can be together."
"That's how I feel about Bron," Merri said after a long pause. "I didn't know it until we left, but we've been at the Palace of the Prophets for 2 years… that's over 3,000 years. It didn't feel that way of course, but that's more than enough time to know someone well. Leaving the Palace, I feel so much older, even though I don't look it. It's as if the weight of age is finally coming to me." Bron stared at her from his prone position and smiled a bit. "So much has changed, so many of the things you said to me I have no idea what they are. Boundaries, Heartland, I don't even know where to begin. I read about them, but the Sisters acted as though it was a prophecy of things to come. I don't know when they planned on letting us out, but it wasn't any time soon."
Merri's words sunk deep into Richard's chest. These two children were centuries old and had suffered the greatest loss- the one you didn't even know you had. He was glad now that he had brought them along.
"Merri, how did we escape without the Sisters' notice? I thought we would have been dodging Dacras by now, but it's been a week," Richard asked after a long pause. Bron and Merri both shared a glance.
"The chute is very old, even older than Bron and I. They say…" Merri began, suspiciously hesitant.
"You can tell me, Merri," Richard prodded gently. Merri's eyes avoided Richard's.
"The chute is coated with the blood of the Pristinely Ungifted. There was an acolyte hundreds of years ago who came but did not know they were Ungifted. And in order to get contraband in and out, and sometimes people, they had to…"
"I don't want to know," Richard said, a chill running up his spine. Now he knew that coppery smell as they slid down wasn't his imagination. Blood, so it seemed, paved the path for the Seeker in so many different ways.
3
Kahlan drove her dagger into the belly of the Baneling and pushed it so it landed on the ground beside the others. The thunk of the body hitting the ground was not enough to satisfy her, because more were on the horizon. Kahlan saw Zedd in the distance, shooting liquid streams of Wizard's Fire at the waves of Banelings. These poor people took the Keeper's bargain, and for what? To be his slaves?
Kahlan heard Cara call out to her, and out of instinct she spun around and slashed. Her battle-training paid off, as another Baneling gurgled blood and fell to the earth. No matter how many they killed, there seemed to only be more. The air was thick with death, and even Cara looked visibly exhausted. The Mother Confessor feared that it was only a matter of time before they all collapsed and the Stone would be lost.
Cara pushed through the pain and let it fuel her. Even her strong, muscled arms were beginning to give out, the pain of the agiels getting more and more unbearable. Cara had never hit the ceiling of her pain tolerance, but it wormed its way into her all the same. It made her tired, and irritated, and that was a recipe for mistakes. In battle, mistakes meant death. But she had to protect Zedd and Kahlan, so she would beat Banelings with her agiels until she died in the sand. That would be a fine way to die — protecting the ones she held dear.
The Banelings crowded around Kahlan, and Cara's heart beat faster. She knew that something was wrong, that she had to get to Kahlan before she was overwhelmed. Even as skilled a warrior as Kahlan could not hold off so many Banelings.
"Kahlan!" Cara screamed, but she heard no answer. "Kahlan!"
There was always a return of some sort. A grunt, a nod, a call of a name. Kahlan was always alright, always on top of the situation. But her shouts garnered no response. Cara could hear Zedd call out too, but still nothing.
No no no no no no no.
Cara began to pull on the hungry Banelings, making quick work of them despite her weariness. Her aching muscles seemed hours away, all that mattered was getting to Kahlan. The sight of her white dress was all that mattered now. But the more she fought, the less she saw.
"Kahlan!" Cara screamed. How could she have left her alone? What was wrong with her? "KAHLAN!"
Kahlan was lying face down on the ground. A knife in her back. The blood pooled in a circle around her white Confessor's dress. Cara screamed and tore through the Banelings. Zedd set fire to them dangerously close to Cara's head. He could have burned her, it wouldn't have mattered. Despite herself, Cara felt the floodgates open, and she sobbed. Her knees buried in the sand, her strong arms pulling Kahlan's limp form into her embrace. After unsheathing the knife from her back, Cara parted Kahlan's soft lips and whispered the Breath of Life into them. She slapped her cheek, she bellowed words of anger and ferocity. She did something Mord-Sith rarely do; she begged Kahlan to get up.
Fate hid her tears in Prophecy's shoulder, but Prophecy knew what lay ahead.
4
Her body writhed for weeks. The green glow of the Underworld was cast on her sweating, naked form. The thick manacles that restrained her felt normal now, even as they burned her wrists for hours on end. Her hair was matted with dirt and blood, though she never seemed to lose consciousness or sustain injuries for long. The memory of those wounds, however, never went away.
Kahlan could barely remember who she had been. She was dead now, why did it matter? Hundreds of Mother Confessors could have been down here, hundreds of Seekers, hundreds of people who fought for the power of goodness. But they all came here, down to be with the Keeper. Kahlan was sure there was a place beyond this, but she could barely muster the strength to remember stories. All she knew were faces from the past, of her friends, flashing before her eyes. The smell of Richard after a long day's travel. The image of Cara's smile. The sound of Zedd's lessons. Those became time to her, food to her, life to her. Whoever these people were, she had to get back to them.
"You're going to be here forever, Kahlan Amnell. Might as well give me what I want," Darken Rahl said, as gentle as a summer breeze. "Tell me where your companions are taking the Stone of Tears."
"Why… would I tell you that?" Kahlan answered. "Do you really believe that I will give that up? Give up my chance of going… to the Meadow?"
"The Meadow is a myth, you should know that, Kahlan. A bedtime story so as not to frighten children. You know full well that the Keeper's domain is all that exists at life's end. This is what humanity deserves. And in turn, the Keeper deserves the Earth."
Kahlan closed her eyes and cried out as Darken Rahl set a bucket on her stomach. It seared into her stomach with an otherworldly heat, and as it did she felt hundreds of rats clawing into her belly, desperate for a way out. They couldn't be real, but it hurt ten times worse than she could have ever imagined. Darken Rahl smiled and yanked on Kahlan's matted mane.
"Tell me what I want to know."
Kahlan stared at him as she screamed, and managed to suck in a breath and spit on Rahl's face. He looked surprised before pulling back his fist to punch her. The blow hurt worse than one hundred men kicking her.
"Tell me, Kahlan, and this can all be over. You can be with Richard, and with Cara. You can be with them both."
Kahlan didn't have enough time to process this bargain, because she felt the air being sucked out of her lungs. Her vision darkened, and the last thing she saw was Darken Rahl standing over her, his somehow beautiful lips taking the shape of her name.