Soul of the Fire (Sword of Truth 5)

“Even if only by some ancient law that completes a long forgotten condition, the spell might reflect the condition to fulfill the arcane requirements of the magic involved. Like water seeking its own level, a spell will often seek its own solution—within the laws of its nature.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Richard murmured.

He tapped the end of the stalk of grass flat between his teeth as he stared out at the lightning flickering ominously in the distant clouds.

“The magic involved dates from the time of that ancient mandate about the Caharin,” he said at last. “Therein lies the problem.”

Kahlan gripped his arm, turning him back to face her. “But Zedd said—”

“He lied to us. I fell for it.” Exasperated, Richard flung the stalk of grass aside. Zedd had used the Wizard’s First Rule—people will believe a lie either because they want to believe it’s true, or because they fear it is—to mislead them.

“I wanted to believe him.” Richard muttered. “He tricked me.”

“What are you talking about?” Cara asked.

Richard heaved a crestfallen sigh. He had been careless in more ways than one. “Zedd. He made all that up about the Lurk.”

Cara made a face. “Why would he do that?”

“Because for some reason he didn’t want us to know the chimes are loose.”

He couldn’t believe how stupid he’d been, forgetting about Du Chaillu. Kahlan was right to be angry. When it came down to it, his excuse was pathetically inadequate. And he was supposed to be the Lord Rahl? People were supposed to believe in and follow him?

Kahlan rubbed her fingertips across the furrows of her brow. “Richard, let’s think this through. It can’t be—”

“Zedd said you would have to be my third wife in order to have called the chimes forth into this world.”

“Among other things,” Kahlan insisted. “He said, Among other things.”

Wearily, Richard lifted a finger. “Du Chaillu.” He lifted a second finger. “Nadine.” He lifted a third finger. “You. You are my third wife. In principle, anyway.

“I may not look at it that way, but the wizards who cast the spell wouldn’t care how I may wish to look at it. They cast magic that would be set into motion by keying off a prescribed set of conditions.”

Kahlan heaved a long-suffering sort of sigh. “You’re forgetting one important element. When I spoke aloud the names of the three chimes, we weren’t yet married. I wasn’t yet your second wife, much less your third.”

“When I was forced to wed Nadine in order to gain entrance to the Temple of the Winds, and you were likewise forced to wed Drefan, in our hearts we said the words to each other. We were married then and there because of that vow—as far as the spirits were concerned, anyway. Ann herself agreed it was so.

“As you have just explained, magic sometimes works by such ambiguous rules. No matter our feelings about it, the formal requirements—the requirements of some ancient magic conjured by wizards during the great war when the prophecy about the Caharin and the old law were set down—have been met.”

“But—”

Richard gestured emphatically. “Kahlan, I’m sorry I foolishly didn’t think, but we have to face it—the chimes are loose.”

28

Despite how valid he thought his reasoning, it didn’t at all look to Richard that Kahlan was convinced. She didn’t even look amenable to reason. What she looked, was angry.

“Did you tell Zedd about… her?” Kahlan gestured heatedly at Du Chaillu. “Did you? You had to have said something to him.”

He could understand her feelings. He wouldn’t like to discover she had another husband she had neglected to mention—no matter how innocent she might have been—even if it was as tenuous as was his connection with Du Chaillu.

Still, this was about something considerably more important than some convoluted condition that contrived to make Du Chaillu his first wife. It was about something dangerous in the extreme. Kahlan had to understand that. She had to see that they were in a great deal of trouble.

They had already wasted valuable time. He prayed to the good spirits that he could make her see the truth of what he was telling her without having to reveal to her the full extent of why he knew it to be true.

“I told you, Kahlan, I didn’t even remember it until now because at the time I didn’t consider it authentic and so I didn’t realize it could have any bearing on this. Besides, when would I have had time to tell him? Juni died before we had a chance to really talk to him, and then he made up that story about the Lurk and sent us on this fool task.”

“Then how did he know? In order to be tricking us, he would have had to know about it first. How did Zedd know I am in fact your third wife—even if only by some…” Her fists tightened. “… some stupid old law you artfully forgot?”

Richard threw up his hands. “If it’s raining at night, you don’t have to be able to see the clouds in the dark to know the rain has to be falling from the sky. If Zedd knew the fact of something and knew it was trouble, he wouldn’t worry about the how of it, he would worry about fixing the leak in the roof.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose as she took a breath. “Richard, maybe he really believes what he told us about the Lurk.” Kahlan cast a cool glance at his first wife. “Maybe he believes it because it’s true.”

Richard shook his head. “Kahlan, we have to face it. We make it worse if we ignore the truth and invest hope in a lie. People are already dying.”

“Juni’s death doesn’t prove the chimes are really loose.”

“It’s not just Juni. The chimes’ presence in this world caused that stillborn baby.”

“What!”

In frustration, Kahlan ran her fingers back into her hair. Richard could understand her wishing it to be the Lurk, and not the chimes, because unlike the chimes they had a solution for the Lurk. But wishing didn’t make it so.

“First you forget you already have another wife, now you rush off down some road of fancy. Richard, how could you come to such a conclusion?”

“Because the chimes being in this world somehow destroys magic. The Mud People have magic.”

Though the Mud People were a remote people living a simple life, they were unlike any others; only they had the ability to call their ancestors’ spirits in a gathering and talk to the dead. While they didn’t think of themselves as having magic, only the Mud People could call an ancestor from beyond that outer circle of the Grace, bringing them across the boundary of the veil and into the inner circle of life, if only for a brief time.

If the Imperial Order won the war, the Mud People, among many others, would eventually all be slaughtered for possessing magic. With the chimes loose, they might not live long enough to face that possibility.

Richard noticed Chandalen, not far off, listening intently. “The Mud People have the unique magical ability of the gathering. Each is born with this ability, this magic. That makes them all vulnerable to the chimes.

“Zedd told us, and I also read it in Kolo’s journal, that the weak are affected first.” Richard’s voice softened with sorrow. “What could be weaker than an unborn child?”

Kahlan, touching the stone of her necklace, looked away from his eyes. She dropped her hand to her side, and looked to be trying to veneer her ire with patient logic.

“I can still feel my power—just as always. As you said, if the chimes were loose, they would be causing the failure of magic. We have no proof that’s happening. If it were true, don’t you think I would know? Do you think me woefully inexperienced in knowing my own power?

“Richard, we can’t leap to conclusions. Newborns die all the time. That is no proof magic is failing.”

Richard turned to Cara. She was standing not far off, listening as she watched the grasslands, the Mud People hunters, and in particular, the Baka Tau Mana.

“Cara, how long has your Agiel been useless?” he asked.

Cara quailed. She could

hardly have looked more startled had he unexpectedly slapped her. She opened her mouth, but no words came.

She lifted her chin, thinking better of admitting such defeat. “Lord Rahl, what makes you think—”