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III. HOWL

"Richard, are you all right?"

Zedd's voice shook him from the nightmare of his newly returned mind. His grandfather stood in front of him, white hair in disarray, pale eyes blinking questions at him.

Richard had no answer. It couldn't be real. He gripped the hilt of his sword hard enough to make his hand hurt, and then gripped it harder still, welcoming the pain. The hot, angry magic of the sword churned in his blood, mixing with the anguish he already felt until it was as if a monster crawled beneath his skin. Images of Kahlan flashed through his mind and wouldn't stop.

"Where did Kahlan go?" asked Annabelle. He rounded on her at the sound of her voice. Moments ago, he had found it to be a thing of beauty unsurpassed. Now it sounded young and selfish and foolish, and it took all the control he possessed not to pull the seething sword from its scabbard and level it at her throat.

"This was your idea?" he demanded. "Sending me to her was your idea?" He knew it had to have been. Kahlan would never have come up with such a plan on her own; it was not her way.

Annabelle blinked at him, her mouth gaping open. "Yes. But wasn't it romantic? You look upset."

"Romantic?" he snarled. "I was confessed! You have no idea what you've done to us." A hot wave of nausea swept over him and he stared at Annabelle, trying to fathom how he could have ever loved her instead of Kahlan. Ever placed her wishes above Kahlan's. "You're a foolish girl with no understanding of real love," he said, advancing on her. "You should have never interfered in this. You had no right. You've—"

"Richard!" Zedd's bony hand gripped his shoulder as if to comfort him. "Slow down there, my boy. It wasn't such a bad plan, even if she is a tad naïve. Kahlan has to continue her line, and with you confessed, she could bring no harm to you."

"You convinced her!" he cried, jerking away from him at the realization. His mind raced, words tumbling out in a heated rush, "Of course. She'd listen to you. Wizard of the First Order. My grandfather! You told her it made sense! That it was her duty, as the last Confessor!" Rage twisted through him. "How dare you, Zedd?"

Zedd frowned, his white brows bunching together in the middle. "Take a breath, Richard. And let go of that sword before you run one of us through."

Richard's hand dropped to hang at his side, and as the anger from the Sword of Truth died away, he realized how loudly he'd been shouting. His throat felt hoarse, and everyone stood frozen, staring at him. It didn't matter. He was a monster; let them stare.

He raked a hand back through his hair and tried to think. He had to find Kahlan. Had to beg her forgiveness. But Zedd put an arm around his shoulder, leading him away from the others.

"Now tell me what has happened," he said in a quiet voice, heavy with concern. "Where has Kahlan gone?"

Richard shook his head. "I…" He could barely form the words. "I don't know. You sent me to her confessed." He closed his eyes only to be met by the memory of Kahlan's frightened, pleading face. His voice cracked, "She wanted me to stop, but I…wouldn't. I couldn't. Because I had to do my mistress's bidding," he spat in disgust.

Realization crossed his grandfather's face, and then Zedd was looking at him in pity, sorrow showing in the wrinkles around his eyes. He wanted none of it. "Let me go," he said roughly and pushed past Zedd, starting for the forest. "I have to find her."

xxx

Kahlan hadn't bothered to hide her trail the way he'd taught her, and that gave him back a sliver of hope. Perhaps she wanted to be found. He didn't use any of his usual tricks to pass silently through the woods; it hardly seemed the time to catch her off guard. Instead, Richard pushed branches out of his way and let them slap back into place with a heavy rustling of leaves. Now and then he snapped a twig in two beneath his boot.

When he caught up with her, she was sitting at the base of a giant oak tree, her knees pulled to her chest and her arms wrapped tight around them. She had her face turned away from him, her cheek resting against her kneecaps. The hem of her white dress was muddied and travel stained, and huddled up as she was, it made her look like she was dissolving into the ground.

He hesitated, just staring at her, feeling uncertain and out of place. Kahlan had to know he was there, but she hadn't looked up. Perhaps she would rather see Zedd now, or even Cara, instead of him. It took more courage than he'd ever needed to face men and monsters in battle just to make himself say her name.

"Kahlan," he whispered.

Slowly, she raised her head and looked his way. She wasn't crying, but her eyes were red rimmed and swollen, her cheeks streaked with half-dried tears. He stood and studied the ground and tried to keep from crying himself. "If you want me to go, just say the word," he offered though he wasn't sure how he'd live if she sent him away.

"No." Her voice was soft and kind, and she seemed very small like that against the ancient tree. He almost wished she'd sound angry instead. "Don't go." She pushed her hair back from her face, giving him a tiny, tremulous smile, and it was then that he saw it. A bruise in the shape of his thumb on the side of her wrist. Guilt and grief flooded him anew, and he sank to his knees.

"I'm sorry," he said, his eyes brimming with tears. "I am so sorry."

Kahlan pursed her lips together. Her hands trembled where they gripped her legs, her fingers clutching at the fabric of her dress like it might disappear at any moment. "You have nothing to apologize for. You were confessed."

"I still should have been able to—"

"Been able to what, Richard?" she snapped. "It's confession! That's how it works. You can't disobey your mistress. If she'd ordered you to run me through with your sword, you would have done it gladly." He wondered if that was supposed to make him feel better at all.

"I'm still sorry. I would never…" His voice cracked, and he stared up at the leaves overhead. Most were green, but here and there a few had turned red, signs of the coming fall. "I can't believe I did that to you."

Kahlan hung her head, her dark hair curtaining her face from his view. They stared past each other as they spoke as if their eyes were now too scared to meet. "I'm the Mother Confessor," she said quietly. "I should have realized what could happen." Her laugh was short and hollow, and she tugged on her dress with her bruised hand. "I should never have agreed to go through with it when you, you couldn't even say if you wanted to or not."

"Kahlan," he hesitated. They rarely talked about what her magic kept them from. Not openly, at least, and now he wasn't sure he had the right. He drew a deep breath. "You didn't agree to have me do anything I wouldn't normally…" His face heated, and he stared down at the mossy ground. "Don't blame yourself for that," he muttered. "My own grandfather was telling you it was a good idea."

He felt a surge of anger at Zedd for endorsing Annabelle's foolishness. It prickled over his skin and set his blood thundering in his ears without even laying a hand to the Sword of Truth. If Zedd hadn't convinced her, this would never have happened. He wouldn't have the memory of pinning Kahlan to the ground burned into his mind. It left him feeling like a criminal. "Why didn't you fight me?" he asked, and even he could hear the bitterness in his voice. "You had your daggers. You should have stabbed me."

He regretted the words as soon as she looked over at him with wet, shining eyes. "You would have fought back. You would have sooner died than failed her." A solitary tear cut a shining trail down her cheek. "I couldn't kill you, Richard. Not for anything in this world."

He nodded and stared at the dark, spongy moss growing around the tree without really seeing it at all. He still wished she'd stabbed him. "I'm sorry," he said again. He didn't know what else to say.

"Stop." Kahlan leaned over, resting her hand against his knee for a fleeting moment before pulling back into herself. His skin burned at the touch. "It's done," she said quietly. "I don't blame you." But all he could see was the bruise he'd put on her wrist, and he did. He did blame himself.

"What do we do now?" he asked.

"We go back and open the locket from Pamora. We find the Stone of Tears and seal the rift." She spoke without emotion, standing and brushing the dirt from her dress. He'd been asking about the hollow feeling that filled his chest. About how he desperately wanted to hold her, but was afraid even to touch her. How he was supposed to live with himself now that he had raped the love of his life. But Kahlan made no mention of it, and he knew he couldn't expect her to have any answers. It was enough that she was still speaking to him. He staggered to his feet through the nightmare, and followed her back to the clearing, caught in a world of silent grief.

xxx

Flinn and Annabelle were gone when they returned. "I sent them on their way," said Zedd in answer to his unspoken question. "They plan to see the ocean together, I believe." Richard couldn't say he truly cared where they went, but he was glad they were gone. Zedd turned towards Kahlan, the wrinkles deepening around his eyes. "Dear one," he began. "Are you…"

"I'm fine," Kahlan cut him off, stalking past him to their pile of gear. She picked up her pack and slung it over her shoulder while everyone watched. The air in the clearing crackled with tension, and Richard waited, half expecting her to say that she'd changed her mind. That she was leaving and never wanted to see him again so long as she lived. Instead, she tightened the straps on her pack, and spoke with the sort of impatience that sounded like it belonged on Cara, "The Seeker's back. We should open the locket now."

They all moved at her words. It was unspoken, but he could tell that her wishes had become absolute law, not just for himself, but for Zedd and Cara as well. She had become the fulcrum around which they all turned.

Zedd pulled out the locket he'd guarded since Pamora and handed it to him. It settled heavy in his palm – the weight of cold metal and responsibility – and he tried to focus on that. The quest felt small in the aftermath of confession, almost as if it belonged to another distant life. But he dug his nail into the clasp on the locket and popped it open. It clicked and whirred as it unfolded, revealing tiny, detailed runes etched in a silver ring. At the center sat a stone no bigger than his thumb. The stone glowed a brilliant shade of blue.

"Is it the Stone of Tears?" asked Cara eagerly.

"No, I think it's a compass," he said as he studied the runes. They belonged to that strange language only he as Seeker could read, and they shifted and wavered in his mind as they always did, before settling into words he had never learned but somehow understood. "This orb will guide the Seeker's way," he read aloud.

"To what?" pressed Cara as the compass began to hum, giving off a familiar, tingling feeling he'd come to recognize as a sign of magic. The blue light danced and shifted when he turned his hand, and he realized it was giving them a bearing. Due north. He glanced at Kahlan, but her face was unreadable.

All he could do was what she'd asked. Find the stone and seal the rift. "Hopefully the Stone of Tears," he said and started north, the compass glowing in his hand.