Zedd hadn't made a fuss at that damned cavern and still hadn't. People don't pay attention to calm things when they're in the middle of demanding chaos. Even as he forced himself to hurry along, Zedd reminded himself not to reach into his sleeve, regardless of how much he wanted to check on the item stored away in one of the secret pockets there. The less than dozen slavers were more attentive in regards to the Seeker, but Zedd didn't want to draw more attention to himself and give away his only advantage, however small it was. Besides everyone just thinking of him as a frail old man with a Rada'Han around his neck—he liked to think he was more—he had the little stone he'd grabbed when Richard caused the scuffle in the cavern and though it was devoid of magic, it posed a small source of hope, even if he didn't know what he'd do with it yet. And Kahlan. In the midst of all the chaos, he saw something so strange he would've accused a person of being spelled or lying if they told him about it. A blonde Mord'Sith wielding the Sword of Truth saved Kahlan's life and the Confessor returned the favor. He couldn't fathom the why, but it was another reason to have hope. If they made it out the cavern and hadn't killed each other. As impossible and absurd as it was, a Wizard of the First Order's hope mostly stood with the Mother Confessor and a Mord'Sith.
In all his years, he never would've thought to consider it. It was mad.
Elysan yelled something at Richard for whatever he'd said and stopped to backhand him, fury in both their eyes, then stomped along. The young wizard didn't much care for physical work and this mad rushing about certainly didn't sit well with him, so Zedd was relieved when he set a slower pace. His poor old lungs and bones and heart. Poor old him.
"Finally," muttered one of the men.
"What was that?" Elysan whirled around. "Did you want to fight one of my creatures if they managed to escape?"
"You said they weren't fixin' to get out."
"And what if they did? Hmm?"
"What about the Confessor," cut in another man.
Elysan waved a dismissive hand as he laughed. "With slavers, my creatures and that Mord'Sith that stalked her there? In a collapsing cave?"
They traded some dialogue, mostly Elysan exerting his authority, but Zedd just rested on a rock, relieved in more ways than one. Elysan not only thought Kahlan dead, but had no idea that she and said Mord'Sith had some sort of agreement. At least, Zedd hoped so. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed plausible—aside from however it came about—that it was planned. Kahlan and her confessed ally come in, stir up trouble, Mord'Sith breezes in the middle of chaos. Because what sane person would think the two wouldn't kill each other, simply for existing, if nothing else? Much less think them working together? Elysan conceded to a short break, mostly for himself since he was breathing as hard as the elder wizard—really, at least Zedd was fit in his youth—and Zedd sagged against the rock as if it were a comfortable bed. A man could dream. But not Zedd, his mind still swirled with thoughts of Kahlan and the Mord'Sith, and something settled in his mind, applying itself in varying degrees to the situation.
Mind what people do, not only what they say, for deeds will betray a lie.
Wizard's fifth rule, of course. He supposed deeds could betray truth as well as lies, but that was an odd thought. Betraying truth. If one betrayed lies, were they, at the same time, betraying truth? And vice versa? He shook his head. He could think about it later. He saw Richard come over, under the watch of a slaver, and almost smiled instinctively, but there was something in the young man's face.
"Did you see what happened to my sword?"
Zedd frowned, not really having to pretend to think because he was. Richard hadn't come to see how he was and while the sword was a valid concern, Zedd noted the almost righteous and dreadfully wronged air the Seeker had. It was very… Rahl. "Afraid not, my boy. Last I saw, that Mord'Sith had it."
Richard stared at him, studied him. Then, "We'll find it even if we have to get a town to dig out the cave." He nodded and sat beside Zedd. "Did you see the Mord'Sith die?"
"No, but I don't know how anyone could've made it out there. Dreadful thing, it was."
Thankfully, Elysan demanded they get going again. Zedd couldn't think of a time he'd been happy not to talk with Richard, but that's how he felt, going so far as to move slow enough that Richard wound up a little ahead of him instead of beside him. Richard didn't notice. Zedd finally released a sigh, grateful for his wording. He hadn't lied, so the Seeker of Truth hadn't seen the lie. He didn't specify a Mord'Sith, he didn't know what happened to the sword, and he didn't know how anyone could get out of there. But Kahlan wasn't anyone, and he imagined that for a Mord'Sith to side with the Mother Confessor, she wasn't just anyone, either. Kahlan. Richard hadn't even asked about Kahlan, his supposed love. Zedd didn't know what was wrong with the boy, and tried not to think on it for the time being. But sometimes, his thoughts wandered. The anger, the possessiveness, the pride. He tried not to think about it.
And, of course, Zedd thought about it. But he tossed it aside, focusing on the main issue. Elysan was thoughtful and persistent, so Zedd knew they were heading off to get horses and, given the young wizard's abhorrent work in the cavern, settle near another tear in the veil. Zedd didn't entirely know the man's intentions, but they had a lot to do with the Underworld. He also knew Elysan was disturbingly strong in his magic and methodical, but the man was arrogant and perhaps more importantly, he underestimated his enemies.
Those with magic relied too heavily on it, and Zedd would teach Elysan that lesson.
Cara hefted the Confessor's pack and walked, mostly occupied in her mind. She had been for a while, content to let the Confessor remain unconscious so she could be alone with herself. Sort herself out. She was no closer to understanding her answers than before, but maybe that was because she kept casting them aside. Cara sighed, finally coming to stand beside Kahlan. She'd somewhat dragged the woman further from the lake so she was under the cover of a tree. If anyone had been around to see it, Cara would've killed them. Maybe she'd feel better if she did, but, of course, she didn't get to kill anyone. A pity, but that didn't mean she couldn't have some fun. Cara held the pack over the woman's midsection, made no effort to hide the traces of amusement on her face, and dropped it.
Kahlan instinctively grabbed it as she jolted up with something between a wheeze and a cough, looking at the pack in her hands and up to Cara with some confusion in her eyes. As Cara's smirk grew, Kahlan's mind cleared. "I don't even know what to say to you right now."
"Great. Don't say anything."
"How long was I asleep?"
Cara crossed her arms as her hips canted out to one side. "I thought you didn't know what to say, Confessor."
"I thought it'd be more considerate to move through things one at a time." She shrugged, as if Cara asked to be punched in the face and she couldn't do anything but comply. "Was there any trouble while I slept? Thanks for bringing my things, that was nice of you. Yes, I said nice, don't glare at me, it's your own fault. Speaking of nice," she paused to look around, "Did you carry me here? How nice of you." She smiled happily, looking directly into the Mord'Sith's eyes.
Cara glared down at Kahlan, making a conscious effort to stop her eye from twitching. Clenched and unclenched her jaw. She stormed off a few feet just to whip around and make her way back to the still-smiling Confessor. "I should kill you." With a huff, she stomped off to the edge of the lake, arms crossed and hip cocked out.
Kahlan couldn't suppress her giggles any longer and laid back, stretching and taking in her aches. She felt a touch better thanks to her involuntary nap, but her body was still deeply upset with her. With a sigh, she slowly rose up and staved off her momentary dizziness, not bothering to collect her things as she wandered beside Cara. They stood in silence, looking over the water until Kahlan's eyes settled on the waterfall itself. "You never said why."
Cara didn't move for a few heartbeats. Then she removed the sword from her hips and held it out to her right.
The Confessor glanced at the sword between them, and her eyes flicked to take in Cara. She'd shifted while Kahlan wasn't paying attention. Straightened, tensed. Green eyes focused directly ahead of her. Movement drew Kahlan back to the sword as Cara shook it slightly. Finally, Kahlan accepted it, eyes falling on the blade as she pulled it from its home. Richard's sword, but no Richard.
Cara's voice broke into her thoughts, quiet and sure, although Kahlan could hear hesitation underlying her tone, as if she were presenting a question. "I got what I wanted, but the same can't be said for you, Confessor."
It should have reassured her, at least to some degree, but it only troubled her. She didn't get what she wanted. Standing here with the closest she'd get to a promise on finding Richard, she felt more so burdened than relieved, so what did she want? Her internal deliberation must have showed outwardly because, feeling eyes on her, Kahlan looked up to find Cara observing her. The woman huffed.
"Your wizard is included." Still Kahlan said nothing. Just stared at her, eyebrows drawn together and the sword forgotten in her hands. It went on long enough for Cara to cross her arms. "Out with it or get moving."
"You're deeply honorable, aren't you?"
Cara's eyes narrowed. "I am Mord'Sith."
"And what does that mean, I wonder," she murmured, sheathing the sword.
Cara watched Kahlan sling the sword over a shoulder and adjust it, all the while looking as if she suspected the woman had gone mad. "You know what a Mord'Sith is."
"Do I?" She tilted her head. "Do you?"
"Of course," she said immediately. Then she gestured to herself. "I am Mord'Sith."
"Not like any I've ever encountered."
Cara clenched her jaw, looking away, fingers absently drumming on an agiel. Finally, her voice came, clear though barely audible. "Do you know what a Confessor is?"
Kahlan could only stand there, tongue heavy with words empty of meaning, as the Mord'Sith brushed past her. The obvious answer didn't feel like much of an answer, never mind that she'd already been feeling wrong lately.
"Lost, Confessor? I can't imagine your mind is a large place."
She whirled around, blinking at Cara for a moment. "I was just thinking the same of you."
The blonde rolled her eyes as she turned and walked off. "I'm afraid I'm too much for your crippled mind."
Kahlan chuckled in spite of herself as she moved to get her pack and follow after Cara. "And I thought Mord'Sith feared nothing. My mistake."
Cara stopped mid-step, turning her head to glare. When Kahlan caught up, she uttered a single, "Tch," as if Kahlan wasn't worth her time, and resumed walking.
As her amusement subsided, Kahlan's mind settled on her introverted thoughts from a few moments ago, with the addition of one word. Lost. That's exactly what she was and she hadn't fully realized it until the Mord'Sith unknowingly pointed it out. She sighed, deciding to focus on the problem at hand. "Since you didn't sleep, I'm guessing you came up with a plan?"
"Of course."
"I trust that I'm not bait this time."
"If only the plan required bait," Cara drawled.
"You'd better hope not. You're bait this time around, remember?"
"I made no such agreement."
"We'll see." Kahlan smiled a little, feeling less burdened and finally taking note of where they were. "Back to the camp?"
"And then the town if you don't die from all your Confessing before we get there."
True, using her personal gift so much in such a short span of time had drained her, but she didn't have to admit it. "You're the disadvantage."
Cara snorted. "Whatever you say, Confessor."
Kahlan absently waved away her comment. "I understand our need to resupply and, well," she looked down at herself, "I don't think either of our clothes are in good condition." Blue eyes wandered to Cara's form. The woman had to be incredibly uncomfortable in drenched, skintight leather.
"Confessor, I know I'm attractive, but not even trainees stare as much as you do."
"What!" Kahlan blurted, fighting the blush threatening to take over her. She really had to stop getting lost in her thoughts. "I don't think you're attractive."
"So you've thought about it."
"No!" When Cara turned slightly to raise an eyebrow at her, Kahlan groaned. "I was thinking about our clothes and how uncomfortable you must be."
"I am Mord'Sith," she said simply, returning her gaze to their arbitrary path.
"Sure, sure," Kahlan replied easily, pretending not to notice the glare being aimed at her. "As I was saying, I understand resupplying, never mind that we're not in the best condition, either, but how are we going to track them? It'll take time to find another rift."
"Rift," Cara asked, taking specific care to avoid a large tree root. "Rift as in opening to the Underworld?"
Kahlan stopped. "You hadn't seen any before today?"
Cara paused a few steps ahead of her with a huff. "I've been a bit busy."
"But you know about them." She watched the blonde likely cross her arms, back still to her. "If you know anything that can help—"
"Just the ravings of a fool." Cara started walking again, not bothering to slow as Kahlan caught up to her.
"Anything worth mentioning?"
She didn't respond immediately. "I am not sure."
"Well," Kahlan said, looking up at the treetops, "We've got the time."
"When I am sure."
"I think I need to know."
"When I am sure," Cara repeated, hand falling to her agiel.
She nearly pressed the woman again, but her cold tone and quick gait gave Kahlan pause. Silence encased them, charged and heavy, but Kahlan wouldn't have any of it. "It would take Elysan time to set up again. We could look for disturbances and I'm sure we'd find him." When Cara still said nothing, Kahlan caught her arm, tensing when the Mord'Sith twitched as if to strike. "Perhaps we should talk," she said quietly.
"Are you incapable of talking and walking at the same time?"
Kahlan didn't verbally respond, opting to unceremoniously toss down her pack and sit on it. She stared at Cara with a raised eyebrow.
She huffed, leaning against a tree. "This is unnecessary."
"You're the one wasting time."
Cara glared briefly. "We could just follow Lord Rahl."
"Follow?"
"Yes, using the bond."
"Bond? With the Seeker?"
Cara rolled her eyes and fixed them upward, as if Kahlan asked something utterly stupid. "Yes, Mord'Sith have a bond with the ruling Rahl." Her eyes travelled back down again, her hand gesturing as if this were beneath her. "Aaand he's angry so I can feel it, though it's faint." She snorted. "He doesn't even know he's triggering it. Like a child with a sword," she said, shaking her head, but she stopped abruptly, nearly looking pained before her features became plain again.
It was tempting to ask if the Mord'Sith was alright, but that in itself was cause enough for Kahlan not to do so. But the woman was shutting down, shutting her out, and that somehow made Kahlan feel very alone all of a sudden. "You only feel it when he's angry? Can other Mord'Sith feel it? Can you communicate through the bond?"
Cara looked less than pleased about the rush of questions, but spoke after a moment. "No, it," she huffed. "Is this really necessary? He doesn't yet know what to do with it and like I said, it's faint, so a Mord'Sith could feel it, yes, but only if she were close enough. Are you done?"
"You'll tell me more about this?" Kahlan stood, shouldering her pack and looking to Cara, not really expecting an answer. "Let's get going."
Nothing passed between them as they trekked, neither so much as bothering to ask if the other needed a break. After some time they neared the camp they'd taken over, but still the silence remained and they kept the same pace the whole while, but again, neither mentioned anything. They were both tired, uncomfortable, and had aching bodies, though Kahlan suspected the Mord'Sith would never admit to such a thing and probably bring pain to anyone that suggested it.
"What's funny, Confessor?"
"Hmm?"
There was a slight pause, almost hesitant. "You laughed a few trees ago."
"Trees," Kahlan echoed. "You keep track of things by trees?"
Cara grunted, taking a moment to answer, as if she'd debated it. "You have a better idea right now?"
Kahlan smiled to herself a little. "How many trees ago was it?"
"Because of this pointless conversation, at least thirty trees."
"That's more than a few trees," Kahlan mused.
Cara grunted again, more so irritated this time.
They kept on—for a dozen trees or so according to Cara's method—until Kahlan remembered something. "I never answered your question."
"Can you hear the river?"
"Yes, but I—"
"We're near that camp."
"Yes, yes," Kahlan said irritably. "Don't you want to know why I was laughing?"
"No."
"Then why did you ask?"
"Lapse in judgment," Cara growled.
Spirits, there was nothing in her life so complex as this Mord'Sith. But at least she could remember her place, remember she wasn't supposed to socialize with Confessors. The only socializing between Mord'Sith and Confessors was violent, with no intentions but death of the other. If only Kahlan could remember she was a Confessor. She unconsciously slowed to a stop and gazed down at her hand, wondering if she ever forgot. If she could forget. No, she could never forget, not when it was her essence, not when it was in her touch, not with the way people looked at her.
"Stop that!"
Kahlan looked up, startled, but not by the order—as it clearly was—but more so by the alarmed nature of it. Cara stood a few feet from her, as if she'd originally decided to keep walking without Kahlan, and her arms were crossed while she glared at the trees, jaw visibly clenched. "Excuse me?"
When Cara's eyes fell on Kahlan, she partially grimaced and uncrossed her arms irritably, a hand settling tightly on an agiel even as she gestured with the other, filling the air between them with meaningless circles. "That. Stop that." She said it like Kahlan was committing a terrible sin and, looking physically pained, she fixed her gaze on the ground.
Kahlan stared at her, still confused, until she registered an unmistakable wetness collecting at her chin. She brushed it away, realizing she had, in fact, been crying, and that there were still a few tears in her eyes waiting to be shed. Her brow furrowed a moment, then a small smile pulled at her lips, but she schooled her features as she looked back up at Cara. She'd never seen Cara look so distressed. Admittedly, Kahlan hadn't spent much time with her—though, in the sense of Confessor and Mord'Sith, they'd spent a disturbing amount of time together—but she had the distinct impression that Cara didn't get distressed often. If at all.
Apparently the silence and crying and staring was too much for the Mord'Sith because she shifted again, her gaze on the treetops once more. "I'd suggest fighting, but you're too weak for it."
Strangely, Kahlan felt a tiny smile coming over her lips, and hid it away by clearing her throat. "How nice of you." That did it. Green eyes narrowed at her and she had to bite the inside of her cheek from smiling.
"I am not nice." She said it as if Kahlan accused her of sprouting wings and singing of the glory of the Creator, advancing on the Confessor the whole while, only stopping when their bodies where scant inches apart. Cara couldn't place the look on Kahlan's face and promptly disregarded it. "I'd have you on your back in seconds."
Kahlan arched an eyebrow as she tilted her head in curiosity. "Here or a little ways away for my comfort?"
Cara jerked, as if slapped, but she composed herself in almost the same instant. "A little ways away, if you count being face down in the river as such."
Kahlan watched her stomp away, pressing a hand against her mouth to fight the giggles threatening to leave her. It didn't take long to catch up to the Mord'Sith and they walked on in comfortable silence. Well, Kahlan felt it was comfortable even though Cara was brooding with a hint of something she couldn't detect, couldn't read. It let her explore her thoughts. By the time they reached the camp they'd taken over, Kahlan had stumbled into troubling lines of thought and was content to let the Mord'Sith pause long enough to grunt something about patrolling and stomp off. It made her smile, which brought her back to her current subject of deliberation.
She fumbled with her thoughts, both tripping over them and trying to keep them from escaping her. Just when she felt the beginnings of understanding, it'd slip away, so she worked backward, thinking on the conversation she'd just had with her current companion. Replaying it again and again, she couldn't help but notice there was no sexuality from the Mord'Sith when she commented on putting Kahlan on her back. She was too focused to feel embarrassment over it, though, because a factor lurked there, something so plain and right there if she could just see it.
A noise worked its way into her awareness and she looked around.
Cara wandered back, her normally fluid movements rigid and her eyes trained on the ground as she stormed across the camp. Admittedly, Kahlan wouldn't have said anyone else was storming around, but the Mord'Sith's steps were usually light and measured, and Cara's current walk was anything but that. Watching Cara draw an agiel as she sat and twirled it, eyes hard and unfocused on the red arcs, Kahlan felt something click in her mind and she held onto the thread of thought leading to it. The Mord'Sith was bothered, so distinctly bothered she couldn't even see the innuendo of her own words. Why. Why held the answer. It blossomed because of Kahlan's little crying session, but it started before that, when Cara started shutting down at the talk of the tear in the veil. No, that wasn't right. Even when they argued about what a Mord'Sith was, Cara held some measure of aloofness.
Something happened between escaping that cavern and Kahlan waking up. She groaned, covering her face.
"What?" Cara asked, as if Kahlan paced the camp with hysterical nonsense.
Kahlan mumbled into her hands, "Why?"
And she sat upright all of a sudden. Why. She'd asked the Mord'Sith why and then she was unconscious, then the distance. Blue eyes bored into Cara, taking in the way the woman wouldn't even look at her.
It was the answer causing the gap between them.
Cara didn't look at her and Kahlan was grateful for it, finding it easier to avoid looking at the blonde if green eyes weren't on her. Kahlan desperately clung to the silence, tried to transfer it into her mind so she didn't have think on how alone she felt with the rift between them, didn't have to think on how much attention they evidently paid to each other. And when Cara stood shortly, walking off toward the village they'd left earlier, Kahlan glanced at the sky. If they were lucky, they'd reach the place before darkness overcame them, but she wasn't sure good luck would find them. She sighed and, as much as her body protested, Kahlan followed after Cara, straining to focus on the silence instead of anything else. But the silence was so disconcerting her mood weighed heavier and heavier upon her, and the sword on her back felt heavier than it should have, pressing against her as if it demanded her attention. A distant part of Kahlan's mind wondered if the answer was worth knowing.
Pain was something he'd known well in life. Loved, even. But this pain, this wretched agony, it tore at him, never numbing, only worsening somehow, enveloping him and refusing to let go. Darken Rahl dug his nails into a writhing body, pulling himself along only with the remembrance he once held resolve, resolve the Underworld had burned away. But he had it once, had a reason, and he clung to that notion, even as he continued to crawl, even as he had no direction. He had to keep going. He didn't know how long he'd been crawling over bodies, couldn't tell when it was that he'd stopped, screaming uselessly. It could've been minutes, days, years. Eventually he half-climbed, half-slipped, onto a free piece of jagged rock so cold it burned. He could rest again, just for a little while, or forever for all he knew, and he closed his eyes, not to shut out the ominous green tint of everything, but as a way to convince his traitorous body to obey him.
"Darken Rahl." The voice rumbled, jarring his body and not just echoing around him, but filling him, seeming to come from within his own mind. "I hope you're not going to cry again. I grow weary of waiting for you."
His eyes snapped open. Something inside of him compelled his hands to push him up to his knees, and his unnecessary breath caught in his throat. No more bodies lie before him, but a large, ornate set of doors with roiling green smoke flowing outward. His lips parted in realization and he bent down, touching his forehead to the rock. "My Lord, I've failed you." He didn't recognize his own voice, it sounded tiny and weak, the voice of someone else, someone lesser than him.
"You're exactly where I want you, though I have doubts. I was looking for the great Darken Rahl to serve my purposes, not a meek kitten."
He never would've tolerated such words in his life, but the pain radiating through his body ebbed away to a dull throb, and he found himself breathing like a man who'd been suffocating. Darken rose, standing on his feet for the first time in what felt like a dozen lifetimes.
"You'd do well to remember I hold dominion over all." The Keeper's voice shook him, pain coming to him so suddenly he fell to his knees, gasping, clutching the rock as if it could save him. "I have great plans for you, but I can find another. Someone eager to serve."
The pain stilled, as if waiting for him to reply. "I am eager to serve."
A/N: Funny how BardWisp and I were just talking about answers and questions. (And see, I said poor Cara because she had to deal with a mildly crying Kahlan.) I feel bad for Darken.
It's almost four am and I can't think straight. I sleepy. Nighty night, I hope you enjoyed the chapter.
NEXT TIME ON GONE FOREVER, A TURN OF EVENTS NO ONE EXPECTED. Except Denna because she knows everything. EYES EVERYWHERE, MAN.