A/N: This chapter was something else and went in a direction I hadn't intended. For that, I believe it turned out better. So fucking excited. So tired.

Berdine's gloved fingers drummed against the windowsill as she stared into the night. Something was in the air and it made her wonder how long the pretense of serving a Lord Rahl would continue among Mord'Sith. One still lived, obviously, but no one sought him, yet Rahl was all they knew. The D'Haran army had already split against itself and Denna was planting her seeds. Only time would tell. Time. It had been a while since she checked. She went to the desk in her room and moved it, accessing the false wall.

For a few breaths, she only stared at the journeybook.

The brunette couldn't count how many times she'd checked it since the last message.

Since she was warned to delay Darken's troops because of the impossible fact that a blonde Mord'Sith would destroy him.

She opened the old book.

Even Gods hesitate. When your footsteps slow, continue. Do not stop. Madness will offer you its hand, wearing a variety of faces. Accept only the one known to you, banish all others. Something wicked this way comes on the wings of mad desire.

Only blood and purity can stop it.

Whatever the cost, keep blood and purity in each other's company.

Madness. Blood and purity.

Berdine fell into the chair by her desk, blinking at nothing as the journeybook rested in her hands.

As a Mord'Sith, she lived in the grip of madness. It was the nature of a Mord'Sith.

Knocks sounded on her door, soft but sure, and in sets of three.

Berdine set down the book as she rose. She swung open her door, already going back to the window of her room. There were no words, no footsteps, and it made Berdine turn.

Raina noted the movement, her dark eyes forgetting the room to pierce Berdine. She stood straight, a hand close to her agiel and her jaw tense—a sharp contrast to Berdine.

She rested her forearms on the windowsill, looking into the night, barely seeing the forest beyond the Temple.

At last, Raina stepped into the room and shut the door, relocking it. As if hesitating, she eventually joined Berdine at the window, though she didn't lean against it. Arms crossed over her chest, she spoke with the quiet certainty characteristic to her. "Miss—" She cocked her head abruptly, correcting the habit after all these years. "Elle challenged you and you won, but you claimed nothing of hers."

Berdine lightly hummed in agreement.

Raina shifted her weight, resolutely staring out the window. "For what reason?"

"I don't want her things."

Raina said nothing.

"As you the sky, and as I but the ground, I stare, perceiving divinity found."

Raina uncrossed her arms and at last faced Berdine. "You speak so many words, but you say so little."

Berdine glanced at her. "Are you going to ask about the desk?"

"What are you trying to achieve?"

Interesting. Raina prioritized her actions. Rather, her motives. "Do you remember," she paused, a smile pulling at her lips, "Do you remember when Cara almost lost her mind and started beating you?"

Raina's brown eyes bore into Berdine, almost willing eye contact. "Yes, I scared her."

Berdine hummed again. "I didn't piece that together for some time. You smiled at me."

Raina's gaze shifted away.

Berdine turned to her. She swallowed and slowly, almost painfully, she slid her fingers over the other woman's wrist.

Sharp eyes studied where they now touched, only leather between them.

Berdine watched the frown mar Raina's features, watched her struggle with herself. She withdrew her hand and looked off into the night once more, wholly focused on burying the tearing feeling inside of her.

"We are Mord'Sith," Raina said quietly, as if the words themselves burned her throat.

Berdine didn't trust herself to speak.

"Maybe you read too many books."

"And perhaps you too few," Berdine whispered.

"When I smiled, you didn't."

"I thought myself insane."

"Me too." Raina shifted her weight again. "If it's insanity…"

Berdine's eyes burned into her, something like hope tightening her chest.

"Why do I enjoy it?"

"Because we are Mord'Sith?"

Raina nodded to her suggestion, absently looking around the room. "We didn't find Cara, but Denna knew we wouldn't, didn't she?"

Berdine sighed.

"For a Mord'Sith so sadistic, she has a large heart."

She frowned. She'd never thought of Denna's particular twist of madness as a method for kindness. An interesting observation.

"Maybe that's why she can show it," Raina continued. "Because she'd convince you to skin yourself alive in front of your family if you disrespected her. That's why I always wondered about when she had Richard… Anyway, I made sure Grace won't tell her or Dahlia about our unexpected encounter."

Berdine cocked her head in silent question.

Raina leaned against the wall beside the window. "Darken Rahl appeared to Grace and said he had a task. Kill General Fenn."

Gloved fingers tapped against the windowsill as wheels turned in Berdine's head. Her fingers froze and her eyes found Raina's. "Only I know this?"

She nodded once.

Berdine's mouth opened dumbly.

The smallest smile softened Raina's expression. "It's so rare for you to be speechless."

She turned suddenly, heart in her throat. Stupidly, Berdine returned the journeybook to its place and fixed her desk, unable to process Raina's blatant show of trust, of giving her power. And that smile.

"Rahl will be displeased, and if he's issuing tasks—"

"He has a plan," Berdine finished. "I have to speak with Denna."

"I don't want to be here anymore."

The soft statement made Berdine stop, only able to stare. Raina was frowning out the window. Berdine took a small step toward her, and another. Her fingers twitched in her desire to reach out, but she controlled herself.

Denna's lip curled, her fingers tracing the "C" cut into Kilion's chest. She knew he trembled both under her touch and in general, worried about her displeasure. "Perfection ruined."

His gaze dropped, shame radiating off him like heat from a stone under the sun.

She continued to stare at it, her hand flat against his chest. Slowly, Denna cocked her head, and her lips parted, a maddened excitement beginning to glitter in her eyes. "Perhaps," she whispered, "Perhaps only now perfect." Absently, her finger tapped against the cut. "Rest. You've done well and I'll need you later."

Denna whirled around, leaving her room so quickly she barely heard his acknowledgment of her order. Her footsteps were quick, and any Mord'Sith still wandering the halls of the Temple this late moved out of her way in a hurry, their eyes lingering on her smile and the gleam in her eyes. No, she wasn't the strongest Mord'Sith, or the biggest, or most deadly in combat. And she definitely wasn't highest in rank, but no one challenged her madness. Mord'Sith lived in the waters of insanity, but Denna drank it, bathed in it, explored it. Embraced it.

She threw open the doors to the library so violently that they swung back closed. The sole occupant sat atop a table. At Berdine's raised eyebrow, she bowed her head in greeting.

Berdine waved the woman's journeybook in the air as she stalked over and stood, weight on her back foot. "Here for this or me?"

"Both. Do relax, Sister." Denna stopped short and held out her hands, palms up.

"Last time you had that look in your eyes, an initiate had to be terminated because of how you mutilated her." Eyeing Denna, she sat on the table behind her again. "Before that we were on Valeria."

"So then you personally know I've gotten better with my nature. Besides, wasn't it you who told me genius and insanity often walk the same lines? I came for both you and the book, as we must talk."

Madness will offer you its hand… The words suddenly had meaning to Berdine as she watched Denna flip through the journeybook, the mad gleam in her eyes intensifying.

"How was Raina's return?" She didn't look up.

"Positive, I'd suppose."

Denna's finger paused atop a page. "Did something happen?"

"No."

She nodded and continued. "You worried me for a moment."

The brunette patted the table she sat on. "Won't you sit?"

After a moment, she shut the book and joined Berdine. "I can have you and Raina relocated with enough money to be whoever you desire."

Berdine recoiled as if struck.

Denna carefully folded her hands in her lap. "I'd prefer to have you at my side, but," a small, wry smile crossed her face, "you can't have someone say 'yes' unless they can say 'no.' So, I present the option." Her normally smooth voice had hitched, a rare occurrence.

Berdine's posture relaxed and she frowned at her hands. Not wanting to be here didn't take away the fact someone was Mord'Sith. Could they abandon all they were? Blue eyes slid over, seeing how tightly Denna held onto herself.

"I don't expect you to choose now, but—"

"You have my answer, Sister."

Denna looked at her sharply, a strangely soft look in her eyes It vanished. "Cara and the Mother Confessor seem to be allies."

Berdine's eyebrows shot up.

"They had an agreement, it seems. Kahlan Amnell gets the Seeker, Cara gets Trianna. It was completed."

"And?"

Denna smiled. "They bonded during it, I believe. Some hours ago, dear Richard's anger provoked Kahlan's, and she only found relief from Cara sparring with her. Defensively."

Berdine whistled. "His bloodline must be troubling him. But a Mord'Sith and the Mother Confessor…" Her eyes widened. Whatever the cost, keep blood and purity in each other's company. What better representation of blood and purity than a Mord'Sith and the Mother Confessor?

Denna stared at her curiously, but let it go. "I've arranged for her to meet a contact of mine in Ferres Bend so that we can bring her back into the fold."

"Why?"

The blonde blinked. She spoke slowly. "She's a Sister we can trust."

"And don't you think it'd be more beneficial to have her gain sway over the ruler of the Midlands if she can? You said yourself she found solace in Cara instead of her destined love?"

Denna tilted her head slightly, thinking it over, running through various paths for her plans. Berdine exhaled slowly, thankful for her quick mind. She hated to talk of Cara as a thing, a pawn in an elaborate game, but there was no solid reason for Cara to stay around the woman, not yet, and Berdine had to speak Denna's language. She still couldn't wrap her head around Cara enjoying a Confessor's presence on any level but malicious, and vice versa.

It was interesting.

"I don't like the possibility of Richard corrupting her with his stupid views."

Berdine held up a finger. "She's responsible for Darken Rahl's death. If Richard's blood is truly awakening, he'll only piss her off. And it sounds to me like Cara would prefer to serve the Mother Confessor. Well, if she preferred to serve anyone."

Denna rolled her head about her shoulders, cracking her neck. "I'm going to spend a few days in my room. Richard might become an obstacle with his blood."

"If you kill him, we'll have no power."

Something lit Denna's eyes. "I am more than Mord'Sith. No man is responsible for who or what I am."

Berdine casually adjusted her leathers. "So will you undo Darken Rahl as though a mere obstacle?"

"What did you say?"

Berdine met the woman's infuriated gaze with a calm one. "He appeared to Grace with a task. He wants General Fenn dead so he has less trouble with his kingdom."

Denna's jaw tensed. "Even death doesn't stop his arrogance."

"What will you do?"

For an hour, or perhaps more, they sat beside each other without a word passing between them. Denna went over possible outcomes in her mind and Berdine watched her, doing the same. It was dangerous, participating in Denna's games. Constructing a game to manipulate Denna was its own danger, and infinitely more deadly for all involved. Not to mention accounting for all the minor or major adjustments she could make at any moment, or her numerous contingency plans. Damned woman was a walking headache. Berdine's eyes wandered, looking upon thousands of volumes of the library. It was small compared to her more familiar one in the Palace. Smaller, but just as useful. Perhaps Mord'Sith functioned the same in the sense of number.

Denna giggled, drawing Berdine's attention and causing a faint chill to slither down her spine.

Madness burned in Denna's light blue eyes. "We'll soon leave this place."

The brunette cleared her throat. "What's your plan?"

Denna smiled wickedly. "We serve Lord Rahl, do we not?"

"In a few more hours, it'll be dawn."

Cara grunted beside her, adjusting how she sat against the log and accidentally brushing arms with her in the process.

Kahlan regarded the stars. "Why'd you come out here?"

"To think."

"And?"

"Our agreement was completed and I have no desire to serve any Rahl."

"We were supposed to kill each other at the end of the day."

"What happened?"

The uncertainty made Kahlan glance at her. For the first time, it crossed her mind that perhaps the Mord'Sith's world felt just as skewed as hers. "I thought you don't like talking about feelings."

As surely as the sun rose in the morning, Cara glared at her with disgust.

Kahlan laughed a little and they lapsed into silence again.

"The day is ending."

The brunette bit her lip.

"You should go back to your Seeker and wizard. There's a crying stone for the lot of you to find."

And just like that, it was obvious she couldn't. Kahlan couldn't pretend these weeks of her life hadn't happened, hadn't built up to this. She couldn't go back to how things were before. No sharp comments, no strong presence, no one partaking in fighting not just on her side, but with her. No one effortlessly easing her mind. How had this Mord'Sith become these things to her? And why hadn't she stopped her? Kahlan studied the sky again. Could she have stopped her? Could she stop herself? "I think I have another agreement."

Cara's head tilted a bit, acknowledging the comment.

"Give me time to think about its conditions."

The Mord'Sith stood. "You have a week."

Kahlan joined her with a sigh and they began the trek back to the town. She had no idea what would compel the Mord'Sith to join them. In her thoughts, she managed to walk her face exactly into a small branch. Absently, Kahlan rubbed her cheek, remembering she also had to come up with a name for Dirt. And she didn't even know how to look at Richard.

"Stop sighing like that."

Kahlan immediately sighed, unaware she'd done it so many times as to annoy the Mord'Sith. "It's just—"

"I did not ask how you were."

"Shhh." Kahlan gave her arm a light slap, ignoring the agonized sigh that escaped the woman. "Richard's why I was so angry."

Cara stopped walking, a small frown upon her brow.

Kahlan backstepped to be next to her. "What is it?"

"Before you came, I felt his anger flare through our bond. When I freed your wizard from rubble in the cave, he was afraid I was the Seeker."

"It's terrible, for you to feel it that way?"

Green eyes met blue. "His anger is unreasonably violent."

"So what do we do?"

The Mord'Sith shrugged. "I put down animals if they can't be trained. Doubt that's the approach you'd like."

Kahlan frowned. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that. I need to talk to Zedd. They always share a room and I don't believe Richard would leave us alone in this state."

"I'll take care of it."

"How?"

Cara started walking again.

Kahlan followed with a tired sigh, deciding to simply trust her. They had to find the Stone of Tears and repair the Veil. No small task, but together they had stopped Darken Rahl, so they could handle this. But would it be together?

She rubbed her temple, thankful they were almost back at the town, but something pressed against her awareness. Rather, the lack of it made itself known to her. Kahlan felt less around her, the air colder. She looked to Cara. The woman's back was rigid, her stride automatic and stiff. As they neared the tavern, the blonde finally glanced at her.

"You likely have ten minutes at most."

The vacancy in her eyes made Kahlan stop, even as the Mord'Sith strode into the building. Kahlan swallowed, willing the chill from her spine. It was like the woman held nothing within her, was nothing, and therefore exuded cold from some abyss long forgotten. Kahlan tried to shake it from her mind as she entered, barely registering Zedd and Richard still at the same table as before. She didn't notice the few other patrons. She only saw Zedd's discomfort. Richard leaning back in his chair, a level of disgusted arrogance on his face as he eyed Cara. Cara, who didn't so much as twitch a muscle at Kahlan's arrival.

She sat beside Zedd, who shot her a look. Kahlan casually tilted her head toward the Seeker and Mord'Sith staring at each other.

Finally, Richard spoke. "I didn't know the Mother Confessor made decisions for a Mord'Sith." He patted the table, smiling in a way that didn't match his eyes. "Sit with us, then."

Cara raised an eyebrow slightly, challenging him. "I sit among my peers."

His smile twitched. "Is it not a privilege to sit at the same table as a Rahl?"

Zedd's mouth opened, but Kahlan touched his arm.

"Lord Rahl presides over D'Hara."

"I'm taking care of something more important right now."

"You can't even spar with a Mord'Sith. Trainees have more discipline than you."

Richard's hand almost clenched into a fist on the table. "A Mord'Sith couldn't even train me."

"You almost killed your supposed love as a result." Cara raised her chin, a sadistic smile sliding onto her face. "Denna was gentler with you than with children. Show me you know how to hold a sword."

The chair fell as he stood, fury darkening his eyes. "Outside. Now." He shouldered past her.

Cold green eyes flicked to blue.

Kahlan opened her mouth, but Cara had already spun on her heel, walking away.

The Mord'Sith exited the tavern, immediately ducking under Richard's fist. His knee missed her face as she jumped back into the street. Her agiels barely came up in time to stop his sword. He didn't move and she studied him as their weapons pressed together. Hers keeping them neutral, his forcing against hers as if asserting dominance.

"My very blood grants you power."

She dropped her block and spun, elbow slamming into his ribs before he could recover. Richard swung as he stumbled. She dropped, kicking out his leg.

As his face met the dirt, Cara stepped back, disgust curling her lip. Anger guided him as it had the Confessor, yet he lacked any grace or ferocity she possessed. In his rage, he was less, and it maddened her that this man fought with the Mother Confessor. Stood at her side. Led her into danger.

This man did not deserve such honors.

He readied himself again, gripping his sword in both hands.

She felt his anger spike and shifted her weight forward.

Richard lunged toward her, sword flashing in the night.

The Mord'Sith sprung out of range with ease and danced back under his advance. Consistently, she blocked and evaded his flurry of attacks, and they grew more reckless as she did. The bond flared between them. During an upward swing, he reverted to a one-handed hold and Cara fought back the urge to sigh.

He stepped in, fist crashing against her cheek.

Cara hit the ground, opting to stare at it as she held up her hands, a displeased smile on her face.

He stood over her. "Still don't think I can spar with just a Mord'Sith?"

"You've proven me wrong."

"You need more training." Richard sheathed his sword. "Don't sit at my table."

After his footsteps faded, she laughed, feeling her madness surge inside of her. "Undo these chains, my friend," she whispered. "Step inside."

The Mord'Sith laughed again, low and violent. Agiels screamed at her very touch as she collected them, tried to rise above the insanity, control it again.

As much as one could control such things.

She smirked. The Seeker would drown in it.

Cara shook her head. She hated him for being a Rahl, for thinking himself worth the name, for thinking her less than him, for lacking control of himself. But he was also the Seeker of Truth, benevolent and not just loved by the people, but needed by them.

Which was more than she'd ever be. As the Mother Confessor had said weeks ago, she was a murderer.

She holstered her agiels, satisfied with her control. The madness wouldn't leave her eyes for a while, she knew, so she focused on nothing, feeling it eventually sweep the madness from her eyes.

The Mord'Sith mechanically went to the door of Kahlan's room. She frowned at it, uncertain what kept her from knocking. As her head cocked, the door opened.

Kahlan halfway flinched upon looking at her.

She watched sadness enter blue eyes. "What troubles you, Confessor?"

Kahlan looked down, stepping aside for the woman to come in. It shook her. Not just one thing. But all of it. Cara didn't even hold the Mord'Sith pride. She was empty, a husk, without even a single inflection in her tone. Lifeless habit tainted every motion instead of the rough grace and pride and certainty and fluidity that Kahlan had become accustomed to.

Her eyes burned and she touched them, confused by the beginning of tears.

"Mistress?"

Kahlan raised a hand, silencing his worry. She went to the window without looking at either person in the room. Dawn would come soon. "Will you wait outside so that we can talk?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Do you mind sleeping there?"

Dirt hurriedly left the room.

After a moment, Cara's toneless voice broke the silence. "Was the time sufficient?"

"Your face is bruising." Kahlan said it as if speaking of sin, her voice lacking emotion.

"Yes."

"The empty response made something in Kahlan stir, primal and displeased. She'd placed it last time, recognizing it as rage. Its restlessness grew and she tried to swallow it down, but it rebelled. Her fingers curled into a fist as she worked to compose herself within.

"Did you discover a way to fix your love's attitude?"

Kahlan whirled around, crossing the room in an instant. "Don't call him that."

The Mord'Sith blinked at her intensity. "As you wish, Confessor."

The rage inside of her twitched. "He couldn't hit you, could he?" Kahlan's fingers wrapped around her throat, blue eyes focused on the bruise. She resisted the urge to slam her fist into the woman's face, as if she could erase the bruise, make it her own. "You let him do it, let him win, didn't you?"

Madness crept back into Cara's eyes, shattered her walls as it responded to Kahlan's own insanity, as if it couldn't resist meeting Kahlan's.

The Confessor noticed, her head tilting. Her shoulders relaxed as she fell into green eyes, and the storm of her anger slowed, as if in a trance.

"Step inside," Cara whispered. She placed her hand on Kahlan's chest, over her heart. "See the monster in I."

Kahlan whispered too, as if speaking loudly would destroy this moment almost devoid of reality, this exchange of understanding, of nature. "I don't need a week."

"Tell me then." Her voice was unbearably low, almost seductive.

"Stay with me." Madness and rage swirled in Kahlan's eyes, and she saw it reflected in Cara's. "Until the end."

The intensity of their locked gazes didn't falter under Cara's silence. Instead, it grew. There was nothing between them, nothing hidden, no one else. Cara and Kahlan stood alone, together, in an embrace particular to them.

"You know how this will end, no matter what we say or do. A Mord'Sith doesn't stand beside a Confessor, especially the Mother Confessor. We should stop before we begin."

"I'm not asking a Mord'Sith. We've already started, haven't we? Broken rules and shattered expectations… Where do we end?"

Something like regret tinted green eyes. "The only promise I can make is that I will hurt you."

An excited shudder coursed through her body and the primal feeling inside of her churned. "I feel the lie in that."

"Then the only promise I can make is a lie." Cara's gaze fell, but her hand didn't move from Kahlan's chest. "It's an honor to fight beside a warrior such as yourself and I'll stop when our natures divide us."

Kahlan's grip on her throat tightened, drawing back the woman's attention. Madness danced in blue eyes. "Step inside," she said softly, "See the monster in I."