VI. DESCRY
"I know this stream," said Zedd, his eyes narrowing as he studied the shallow, swift moving waters. "It flows right to Agaden Reach." He scowled, hitching up his robes to step over a long, thick vine. The vines had been slowly encroaching on the path all morning, a nuisance that slowed their travel. "Are you sure that compass is pointing east?" he asked, heading for Richard wearing a determined expression.
Richard was sure, but he obliged his grandfather and pulled out the compass again. Instead of the dancing blue lights that indicated a new bearing, the stone's glow held steady. "Still east," he said. It had been guiding them east for two day's now, but Zedd had never questioned it before. "Actually," he added as he took another look at their surroundings. "We should probably cross the stream. The path looks better over there too." It was free of tangled vines and undergrowth and appeared well used, with a fine, flat trail that ran alongside the water. Kahlan would have an easier time walking there. But Zedd leaned over his shoulder, peering down at the compass and muttering under his breath.
He raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong, Zedd?"
"Well, I…" Zedd fussed with the front of his robes, smoothing them needlessly. "I see no reason to cross the stream, that's all," he said in an odd, uneasy voice. "Shota makes her home in Agaden Reach, and I've had enough of that witch woman's meddling ways. Besides, you know how I hate getting my feet wet!"
Richard almost snapped that he'd have to put up with wet ankles so Kahlan could walk on the easier path, but caught himself just in time. She had asked him not to say anything about the child to Zedd or Cara, claiming that she'd have to tell them soon enough. He heaved a frustrated sigh and glanced her way, watching her struggle along in the back. He knew firsthand just how exhausted she was.
Ever since that first morning, he had taken to rising early with her. It had been brutally awkward the first few days, but leaving her to suffer alone while he rested was never an option, no matter how much they both stared at the ground and stumbled over their words. He told himself he would only stop if Kahlan asked him to, and she never did.
Occasionally, he could convince her to go back to sleep, and let him stand watch in her stead, so long as he promised to wake her well before the others. It left him twice as tired as he'd been before, but he could tell by the shadows forever lurking beneath her eyes that it was nothing compared to what her body was putting her through. He held her hair for her when she was ill, and, when she refused to sleep, they sat with their backs to the dwindling fire and waited for the dawn.
Mostly they sat in silence. Now and then he mentioned safe, simple things. Like whether she was hungry that day. Or whether there would be sun or rain, and which way the compass might lead. It was never what he truly wanted to say, but she would always answer, her voice soft and close and so familiar. It felt rather like they were learning to talk to each other again. And, rough and raw as it was, he'd come to love the pale, quiet hour before the dawn, when everything was dew stained and shadowed blue, the faint imprint of the moon still fading from the sky.
Richard let his mind race though sometimes, imagining what life would be like if it didn't strangle something inside him to remember how they'd conceived their child. If every conversation they had wasn't still brimming with awkward pauses and painful silence. If they were just two ordinary people free to love and marry as they wished. But the sun would always rise and the others would wake, and by the light of day he couldn't pretend otherwise. They were the Seeker and the Mother Confessor. They acknowledged nothing more. Not even that she had been unable to keep any food down that morning and could use an easier path.
He looked wistfully across the stream at the smooth stretch of trail awaiting them. "The way is better there," he said, hoping Zedd would listen to reason without using Kahlan's name. "We'll make better time." But his grandfather just frowned at the compass, a stubborn expression squashed on his face. He sighed and tried again, "I know she can be meddlesome, Zedd, but Shota's not an enemy. We can tell her we have no interest in her visions."
The old wizard's bushy eyebrows twitched, "But why go inviting trouble when we can just as easily walk around this sleeping dragon? We can still head east from this side of the stream and avoid Agaden Reach."
"Zedd's right," Kahlan broke in as she caught up with them. "We shouldn't cross." Her voice was tense and tinged with fear, and he was reminded of how she'd reacted the last time Shota shared a vision with them. Kahlan did not take prophecy lightly. It was enough to decide the matter for him, and Richard snapped the compass shut.
He'd wanted to cross for her sake; there was no point in arguing further when she wanted the opposite. "Alright," he relented. "We'll keep going."
But the path only became more overgrown as the day wore on. Richard stalked out in front, hacking at the vines with his sword to clear a path for the others. Zedd couldn't use magic to do it – he claimed even a simple spark would alert Shota to their presence better than if they came waving flags and blowing horns to announce their arrival. His muscles ached from the tedious task, and Richard paused to wipe the sweat from his brow. Though the nights had turned cool, the midday sun had not yet given up all of summer's heat. It beat down on his shoulders as he pulled out his waterskin and took a drink. The water tasted warm and unpleasant in his mouth.
"Let's take a quick break," he called back to the others. "I want some fresh water."
No one protested. He imagined Cara had to be baking in her leather, and the heat was causing the hair framing Kahlan's face to curl up in ringlets. Zedd leaned against a tree, fanning himself with a long, gnarled hand and casting glances at the opposite shore that Richard assumed were meant to be furtive, though he didn't know why. He collected all the waterskins and fought his way down to the bank, vines like snakes around his legs.
When he reached it, he found the stream was noisy and cool, water laughing merrily as it rushed over the rocks. Richard knelt and splashed his face, washing away some of the dirt and the grime while leaves swept past with the current like tiny golden boats. He lingered there, taking his time filling the waterskins so Kahlan could have longer to rest. But all too soon Zedd called down, chuckling as he asked if he'd fallen in. Richard bit back a sharp retort and trudged up the bank without sharing in his humor – lately it had become a struggle not to get annoyed at everything his grandfather said and did.
They had only been walking again a short while when something strange passed through the air – like a breeze, yet different, more substantial somehow. Richard stopped short, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword as his senses all intensified. Kahlan and Cara looked at him as they too reached hands for their weapons, but Zedd stayed staring straight ahead, his long nose wrinkling as a frown drew down his brow.
A thick whisper ran through the grasses and bent them low. Richard watched the view in front of him waver, turning almost smeared as if he looked down the path through a greasy windowpane. His skin tingled with that strange sensation that always meant magic, and he tried to remember what it had felt like right before the screeling attacked. Before he could draw his sword, Zedd huffed and crossed his bony arms over his chest.
"Smells like a witch woman," he grumbled. "Shota! Show yourself!"
The canopy of leaves danced overhead, and Shota stepped out from behind a slender elm, silent as a shadow. Her auburn hair ran in ripples over a long, dark dress that flowed to the ground. She gave them all a slow, creeping smile. "You always know just how to greet old friends, Zeddicus."
Zedd shifted his weight from foot to foot, scowling down at her. "I'm not so certain we're friends," he said.
She raised a shoulder in a delicate shrug, "There are many words I could use instead to describe you and I, if you would prefer another. Shall I list them?"
Zedd's face reddened, and he looked a breath away from an angry tirade. Richard jumped forward. It would be best to cut the reunion short. "Just state your business, Shota," he said. "We're in a hurry."
Her eyes swung straight to where the Sword of Truth hung at his hip. "Still every bit the Seeker, I see. Patience." She smiled again, languid as a stretching cat, and turned back to Zedd. "You have persisted in ignoring my vision, Zeddicus."
"What vision?" asked Kahlan loudly. Richard could feel her alarm, sharp and discordant like the screech of metal. "Zedd, what is she talking about?" The wizard opened his mouth but said nothing, looking torn between frustration and embarrassment. Here at least was the reason behind his sudden distaste for Agaden Reach.
Shota's eyes lit up like a lightning strike. "You haven't told them?" she hissed.
"Told us what?" said Richard, stepping closer to the witch woman and the hazy cocoon of power that radiated from her. Cara moved forward too, keeping herself between them like a human shield. He almost pulled her back before remembering Mord-Sith were meant to be exactly that against magic.
"I hope you don't mind that I tell them," said Shota to Zedd in a voice that made it quite plain she would continue either way.
Zedd gray eyes darkened like thunderclouds. "Have it your way, Shota," he said. "You always do."
Her long ripples of hair fluttered on a sudden breeze, and she gave him a sad, weary smile. "I hope one day you will understand that my way is what is best for the world of life. Until then…" She turned away from Zedd, and Richard found himself looking straight into her eerie, almond eyes. "I am sorry, Richard Rahl," she said quietly. "No doubt your grandfather thought to protect your feelings because of his fondness for you. Understandable for an old man, perhaps. But not for a Wizard of the First Order."
A hush fell over the path as Shota paused a moment, seeming to thrive on the way they all stared at her in silence, her captive audience. Richard waited despite himself for what she would say next, and when she went on, her voice was smooth and powerful, dwindling the rush of babbling water down to nothing at all. "Nearly three months ago, I had a vision that you will fail in your quest to defeat the Keeper."
"What?" cried Kahlan indignantly. "That's not possible! Richard is the Seeker!"
Shota scoffed and let out a tinkle of haughty laughter, "And because you love him, he must be infallible? Do not be so foolish, Mother Confessor. I have seen it. He will fail to find the Stone of Tears."
Kahlan twisted around to look at him, silently entreating him to say something. He could see the worry already welling up in her eyes just because the witch woman called her opinion prophecy. Gritting his teeth, Richard held back a frustrated sigh; there was no greater waste of time than prophecy. He could fail for countless reasons, but not simply because Shota said he would.
He cleared his throat, "You're here to advise me to abandon my quest?"
"You must." Shota stepped closer only to be stopped by a warning tilt of Cara's head that reminded him of nothing so much as a snake about to strike. "You must give up the Sword of Truth so that a new Seeker can be named. We are fortunate – I should be able to find just such a man in my visions." Her words snagged in his mind; Shota would love the chance to name her champion.
"I don't believe you," he said, resting a hand on the hilt of his sword. "And nothing you could say will change my mind. I don't believe in prophecy."
She bristled visibly. "All you need to do is foolishly claim that you do not believe in prophecy, and it stops existing? You are that arrogant?" she demanded, advancing on him like a cat drawing her claws. "Has your Rahl blood given you such a mistaken belief in your own importance?" Her voice turned mocking, her words cutting into him as surely as any blade, "The mighty Richard Rahl stands before us a perfect man who cannot fail in his quest the way other, lesser men might do."
The memory of pinning Kahlan to the ground and keeping her there with his weight came rushing to the surface at her words, and Richard tightened his grip on the sword, taking shelter in the angry, almost painful thrum of magic leaking into him. He wondered vaguely if it was the same for Cara and her Agiels. "I have no mistaken belief in my perfection," he said in a low voice. "If Zedd wishes to name a new Seeker, I will give up the sword and do what I can to help the one he names in my place. But I will not abandon my quest because of something you saw in a pond."
"Then you are a fool," hissed Shota. "You will doom all life to the Keeper because of your pride! Zeddicus!"
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his grandfather shake his head. His voice was calm and steady against the tempest of emotions the witch woman rode. "I'm not naming a new Seeker."
"It's settled then," said Richard hastily, eager to be far away from her wrath. "Let us pass. You have said what you came to say, and we have not crossed into your land." He felt a sudden surge of gratitude towards Zedd for keeping them from the other shore. The air crackled with the threat of the witch woman's magic, and something told him it would be twice as hard to leave were they to have set foot inside Agaden Reach.
But Shota did not move. "I have not yet begun," she said in a soft, dangerous voice. "I had already given the wizard my warning about your quest. We must wait and hope you realize the truth before it's too late and the world of the living ends. But I did not come this way to waste my breath giving the same warning twice. I have but recently had another vision and thought to find you." She gave a slight tilt of her head, "How fortunate that you are here now."
Richard frowned, "I'm not interested in more of your visions, Shota. You still waste your breath."
"I think not," she said calmly. He caught the brief flicker of her eyes towards Kahlan. "I think this time, Seeker, you will be very interested." A knowing smile spread across her face and left him cold. "It concerns the Mother Confessor's child."
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