Wizard's First Rule (Sword of Truth 1)

“Bags! I have been an old fool! You are right. We must leave now, but I can’t leave without my rock.” He started off around the house.

“Zedd, there’s no time!”

The old man was already running up the hill, robes and hair flying, off into the darkness. Kahlan followed Richard into the house. They had been lulled into laziness. He couldn’t believe how foolish he had been to underestimate Rahl. Snatching up his pack from the corner by the hearth, he ran into his room, checking under his shirt for the tooth. Finding it safe, he came back with his forest cloak. Richard threw it around Kahlan’s shoulders and took a quick glance around to see if there was anything else he could grab, but there was no time to think, nothing worth their lives, so he took her by the arm and headed for the door. Outside, in the grass in front of the house, Zedd was already back, breathing hard.

“What about the rock?” Richard asked. There was no way Zedd could lift it, much less carry it.

“In my pocket,” the wizard said with a smile. Richard couldn’t spare the time to wonder at this. The cat was suddenly there, somehow aware of their urgency, rubbing up against their legs. Zedd picked it up. “Can’t leave you here, Cat. There’s trouble coming.” Zedd lifted the flap of Richard’s pack and tucked the cat inside.

Richard had an uneasy feeling. He looked about, scanning the darkness, seeking something out of place, something hidden. He saw nothing, but felt eyes watching.

Kahlan noticed his searching. “What’s wrong?”

Even though he could see nothing, he felt the eyes. It must be his fear, he decided. “Nothing. Let’s go.”

Richard led them through a sparsely wooded area he knew well enough to walk blindfolded, to the trail he wanted, and turned south. They moved along quickly in silence, with the exception of Zedd muttering occasionally about how stupid he had been. After a while, Kahlan told him he was too reproachful of himself. They had all been fooled, and each felt the sting of blame, but they had made good their escape, and that was all that mattered.

It was an easy trail, almost a road, and the company of three walked side by side, Richard in the middle, Zedd to his left, Kahlan to his right. The cat poked his head up from Richard’s backpack and looked about as they walked. It was a mode of travel he had enjoyed since he was a kitten. The moonlight was enough to light their way. Richard saw a few wayward pines looming against the sky, but he knew there could be no stopping. They had to get away from here. The night was cold but he was warm enough with the effort of their rapid pace. Kahlan wrapped his cloak tightly around herself.

After about a half hour Zedd brought them to a halt. He reached into his robes and pulled out a small handful of powder. He threw it back down the path, the way they had come. Silver sparkles shot from his hand and followed their trail back into the darkness. The sparkles tinkled as they went, disappearing around a bend.

Richard started back up the trail. “What was that?”

“Just a little magic dust. It will cover our trail, so Rahl won’t know where we went.”

“He still has the cloud to follow us with.”

“Yes, but that will only give him a general area. If we keep moving, it will be of little use to him. It’s only when you stop, like you did at my house, that he can hunt you.”

They continued on to the south, the trail taking them through sweet-smelling pines and higher into the hill country. At the top of a rise they all turned suddenly at a roaring sound behind. Off beyond the dark expanse of the forest, in the distance, they saw an immense column of flame shooting skyward, yellows and reds reaching up into the blackness.

“It’s my house. Darken Rahl is there.” Zedd smiled. “He looks to be angry.”

Kahlan touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Zedd.”

“Don’t be, dear one. It’s just an old house. It could have been us.”

Kahlan turned to Richard as they started out again. “Do you know where we are going?”

Richard abruptly realized he did. “I do.” He smiled to himself, glad to be telling the truth.

The three figures fled into the dark shadows of the trail, into the night.

Overhead, two huge winged beasts watched with hungry, glowing green eyes, and then pitched themselves into steep, silent dives. Wings tucked back for speed, they plummeted toward the backs of their prey.

11

It was the cat that saved him. He yowled and leapt over Richard’s head in a fright, causing him to duck, not enough for the gar to miss him, but enough to deflect the full impact. Still, the claws raked his back painfully and knocked him sprawling facedown into the dirt, driving the wind from his lungs in a whoosh. Before he could take a breath the gar pounced on his back, its weight preventing him from breathing or reaching his sword. Before he went down he had seen Zedd sent tumbling into the trees by a second gar, and now it went crashing through the brush after him.

Richard braced himself for the claws he knew would come. Before the gar could rip him open, Kahlan heaved rocks at it from the side of the path. They bounced harmlessly off the beast’s head, but it was distracted momentarily. The gar roared, mouth agape, seeming to split the night air with the sound, and held him pinned like a mouse beneath a cat’s paw. Richard struggled mightily to lift himself, his lungs burning for air. Blood flies bit his neck. He reached behind, pulling out handfuls of fur, trying to get the great arm off his back. By its size he knew it had to be a short-tailed gar; it was much bigger than the long-tailed gar he had seen before. The sword was under him, digging painfully into his abdomen. He couldn’t get to it. It felt as if the veins in his neck would burst.

Richard was beginning to black out. The sounds of yelling and roars from the gar were growing fainter as he struggled. Kahlan got too close in her flurry of rock throwing. The gar reached out with frightening quickness and snatched her by the hair. Doing so caused the beast to shift its weight enough to let Richard gasp desperately for air, but not enough to allow him to move. Kahlan screamed.

Out of nowhere, the cat, all teeth and claws, sprang to the gar’s face. The cat howled, clawing furiously at the gar’s eyes. With one arm holding Kahlan, it lifted the other to swipe at the cat.

When it did, Richard rolled to the side and sprang to his feet, drawing his sword. Kahlan screamed again. Richard swung in fury, severing the arm that held her. She tumbled back, free. Howling, the gar backhanding him before he could bring the sword up. The force of the blow sent him flying through the air, landing on his back.

Richard sat up, the world spinning and tilting. The sword was gone, thrown into the brush somewhere. The gar was in the center of the trail, wailing in pain and rage as blood gushed from the stump. Glowing green eyes searched frantically for the object of its hate. They locked on Richard. He didn’t see Kahlan anywhere.

Off to his right, in the trees, there was a sudden blinding flash, illuminating everything with intense, white light. The violent sound of an explosion hammered painfully into his ears as th

e concussion from the blast tumbled him against a tree and knocked the gar from its feet. Rolling flames whirled through gaps in the trees. Giant splinters and other debris hurtled past, streaming trailers of smoke.

Richard began a frantic search for the sword as the gar came to its feet with a howl. Richard felt around on the ground, desperate, and partially blinded from the flash of the explosion. He had enough vision, though, to see the gar coming. His anger flared. He could feel it flare in the sword, too. The sword’s magic reached out to him, beckoned by its master. He called it forth, summoned it, hungered for it. It was there, across the trail. He knew it as surely as if he could see it. He knew exactly where it lay, as if he were touching it. He scrambled across the trail.

Halfway there the gar kicked him so hard he saw things moving past but couldn’t understand what they were. All he knew for sure was that every breath caused intense pain in his left side. He didn’t know where the trail was or where he was in relation to it. Blood flies were bumping into his face. He couldn’t get his bearings. But he did know where the Sword of Truth was.

He dove for it.

For an instant his fingers touched it. For an instant he thought he saw Zedd. Then the gar had him. It picked him up by his right arm and wrapped its repulsive, warm wings about him, hugging him close, his feet dangling in midair. He cried out from the sharp pain in his left ribs. Glowing green eyes burned into his, and the giant mouth snapped, showing him his fate. The immense maw split open for him, its fetid breath on his face, its black throat waiting. Wet fangs glistened in the moonlight.

With all his strength, Richard kicked his boot into the stump of the gar’s arm. It threw its head back, howled in pain, and dropped him.

Zedd emerged at the edge of the trees a dozen yards behind the gar. Richard, on his knees, grabbed the sword. Zedd threw his hands out, fingers extended. Fire, wizard’s fire, shot from his fingers and came shrieking through the air. The fire grew and tumbled, illuminating everything it passed, becoming a blue and yellow ball of liquid flame that wailed and expanded as it came, a thing alive. It hit the gar’s back with a thud, silhouetting the giant beast against the light. Within the space of a breath the blue-and-yellow flames washed over the gar, enveloping it, surging through it. Blood flies sparked into nothingness. Fire sizzled and snapped everywhere on the creature, consuming it. The gar disappeared into the blue heat and was gone. The fire swirled a moment and then it, too, was gone. The smell of burnt fur, and a hazy smoke, hung in the air. The night was suddenly quiet.