Faith of the Fallen (Sword of Truth 6) - Page 83

This was the enemy.

The inner violence of her power’s cold coiled force slipping its bounds was breathtaking. It surged up from that deep dark core within, obediently inundating every fiber of her being.

She could count each small rib under her fingers.

She contained no hate, no rage, no horror…no sorrow. In that infinitesimal spark of time, her mind was in a void where there was no emotion, only the all-consuming rush of time suspended.

He had no chance. He was hers.

Kahlan did not hesitate.

She unleashed her power.

From an ethereal state as part of her innermost essence, that power became all.

Thunder without sound jolted the air—exquisite, violent, and for that pristine instant, sovereign.

The boy’s face was twisted by the hate of the man who had controlled him. In that singular moment, if she was the absence of emotion, then he was the embodiment of it. Kahlan stared back into that lost child’s face, knowing that he saw only her merciless eyes.

His mind, who he was, who he had been, was already gone.

Trees all around shook from the force of the concussion. Snow dropped from branches and boughs. The terrible shock to the air lifted a ring of snow that grew around the two of them in an ever-expanding circle.

Kahlan had known that Jagang could slip into and out of a person’s mind between thought, when time itself did not exist. She had no choice but to do as she had done. She could not afford to hesitate. With Jagang in a person’s mind, even Cara could not control them.

Jagang had burned his bridges behind him as he fled the young mind.

The boy fell dead at Kahlan’s feet.

Chapter 35

Kahlan swayed on her feet as she stood over the crumbled body of the boy, feeling her emotions flood back in. As always happened, using her Confessor’s power left her drained and exhausted. In the aftermath, the forest sat in silent judgment. Here and there, the virgin snow around the small body exhibited its red evidence.

Only then did Kahlan even pause to consider if she might have killed Cara, too.

A Mord-Sith would not live long after the touch of a Confessor. There had been no choice. She had done her best to warn Cara, to let her know to get clear, but in the end Kahlan couldn’t allow her decision to be influenced by any consideration other than what had to be done. Hesitation could have meant disaster.

Now that it was over, though, dread roiled through.

Kahlan looked around, and to the right saw Cara sprawled in the snow. If she had been touching the boy when Kahlan unleashed her power…

Cara groaned. Kahlan staggered to her and dropped to a knee. She clutched the fur at Cara’s shoulder and with a mighty effort pulled her over.

“Cara—are you all right?”

Cara squinted up with a look of disgust working its way to the surface of pain. “Well of course I’m all right. You didn’t think I would be foolish enough to hang on to him, did you?”

Kahlan smiled in thankful relief. “No, of course not. I only thought you might have broken your neck jumping away.”

Cara spat snow and dirt. “Nearly did.”

Warren helped them both to their feet. Grimacing, he rubbed his shoulders and then his elbows. From what Kahlan had often been told, being too close to a Confessor unleashing her power was a painful experience, sending a shock of agony through every joint. Fortunately, it did no real damage and the suffering faded quickly.

As Warren glanced over at the dead boy, she knew that there was other pain that would not leave so quickly.

“Dear Creator,” Warren whispered to himself. He looked back at Kahlan and Cara. “He was just a boy. Was it really necessary—”

“Yes,” Kahlan said in a forceful voice. “I’m positive. Cara and I have encountered this situation before—with Marlin.”

“But Marlin was grown. Lyle was so small…so young. What real harm—”

“Warren, don’t start down the path of what-might-have-been. Jagang controlled his mind, just as he controlled Marlin’s mind. We know about this. He was a deadly threat.”

“If I couldn’t hold him,” Cara said, “nothing could.”

Warren sighed in misery. He sank to his knees at the boy’s side. Warren whispered a prayer as his fingers stroked the boy’s temple.

“I guess the blame rightly lies at Jagang’s feet.” Warren stood and brushed the snow from his knees. “Ultimately, Jagang is the one who brought this about.”

Kahlan could see the distant figures of their men, rushing up the hillside to rescue her. She started down toward them.

“If it pleases you to think so.”

Cara stayed right with her. Warren struggled through the snow to catch up. He snatched Kahlan’s arm and pulled her to a stop.

“You mean Ann, don’t you?”

Kahlan schooled her anger as she studied Warren’s blue eyes.

“Warren, you were a victim of that woman, too. You were taken to the Palace of the Prophets when you were young, weren’t you?”

“I guess so, but—”

“But nothing. They came and took you. They came and took that poor dead child back there.” Kahlan’s fingernails dug into her palms. “They came and took Richard.”

Warren pressed his hand gently to the side of Kahlan’s arm. “I know how it seems. Prophecy is often—”

“There!” Kahlan angrily pointed back at the corpse. “There is prophecy! Death and misery—all in the sacred name of prophecy!”

Warren didn’t try to answer her rage.

Kahlan forced control into her voice, if not the emotion behind it. “How many are going to die needlessly in a perverted devotion to seeing prophecy carried out? Had Ann not sent Verna here for Richard, none of this would be happening.”

“How do you know that? Kahlan, I can understand how you feel, but how can you be sure?”

“The barrier stood for three thousand years. It could only be brought down by a wizard born with both sides of the gift. There has been none until Richard. Ann sent Verna to get him. Had she not, the barrier would still be there. Jagang and the Order would be on the other side. The Midlands would be safe. That boy would be playing ball somewhere.”

“Kahlan, it’s not so simple as you make it seem.” Warren opened his hands in an expression of frustration. “I don’t want to argue this with you, but I want you to understand that prophecy gets fulfilled in many ways. It often seeks its own solution. It could be that had Ann not sent for Richard, he would have, for some other reason, ventured down there and brought down the barrier. Who is to know the reason? Don’t you see? It could be that it was bound to happen, and Ann was simply the means. If not her, then another.”

Kahlan pulled angry breaths through gritted teeth. “How much blood, how many corpses, how much grief will it take before you see the harm prophecy has inflicted upon the world?”

Warren smiled sadly. “I am a prophet. I’ve always wanted to be a prophet in order to help people. I wouldn’t put my faith in it if I truly thought it was the cause of harm.” He smiled more brightly with a memory. “Don’t forget, without prophecy, you would never have come to meet Richard. Aren’t you better off having had him come into your life? I know I am.”

Kahlan’s look of cold fury took the warm smile from his face.

Tags: Terry Goodkind Sword of Truth Fantasy
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