Chase shifted his weight and folded his arms. His brow bunched. He was beginning to look seriously concerned, which on Chase meant that he looked like he thought he might need to slaughter large numbers of people.
“Maybe I’d better stay for now. We don’t have to leave tomorrow. We can wait until you find out if there is some sort of trouble at hand.”
Zedd sighed, beginning to wish that he wouldn’t have mentioned anything. This wasn’t really a problem for Chase. Zedd shouldn’t have gotten the man all worked up over something he wouldn’t understand or could do anything about. It was just that it was so blasted odd.
“That isn’t necessary. This kind of trouble isn’t likely to need to have you strangle it into submission. It’s an entirely different kind of problem. This is book trouble. I don’t want to burden you with worry. It’s my area and I’m sure I’ll figure it out sooner or later. I only wondered what you might think of such a thing. Sometimes it helps to have a fresh view.”
Chase waggled a finger over the book. “Well, what does that last part mean? That first contest him before they plot to heal him part? You said it was prophecy about Richard. That sounds like trouble—like someone is going to plot against him.”
“No, not necessarily.” Zedd wiped a hand across his mouth as he tried to think of a way to explain it. “The word plot in prophecy often means nothing more sinister than to ‘lay out a plan.’ Like plotting a course of action, you might say. In this case, the passage was talking about those who are his closest advisors, his allies, so when it talks about plotting to heal him, it most likely means that they must first convince him that he needs their help and then once they are able to convince him, these allies—that would most likely be some of us—are going to set about planning a way to heal him.”
“Heal him from what?”
“It doesn’t say.”
“So then it isn’t serious.”
Zedd gave the boundary warden a meaningful look. “I believe that may be the part that is blank.”
“Then it is serious. Richard is in trouble. He needs help. Maybe he’s hurt.”
Zedd shook his head unhappily. “In my experience prophecy is rarely so overt.”
“But that could be the case.”
Zedd appraised the man for a moment. “We’re a long way from needing to dream up things to worry about. In addition, the chronology of prophecy is always troublesome. For all I know, the part we’re discussing could have already happened. It could, for instance, be talking about a time Richard had a fever as a child and I had to find the proper herbs to heal him.”
“Then it just as well could be past history.”
Zedd turned up his palms in frustration. “It could be. Without the missing text—or knowing a lot more about prophecy than I do—it’s probably impossible to put this in the context of his life.”
Chase nodded but then stepped out of the way as the door opened and Rikka swept into the room. She reached out to take the bowls, but paused when she saw they were still full.
“What’s the matter? Why haven’t you eaten?” When Zedd waved a hand as if trying to swish the issue away, she looked over her shoulder at Chase. “Is he sick? I thought he would have scraped the bowl clean by now and licked the smell off the ceiling. Maybe we had better think of a way to make him eat.”
“See what I mean about plotting?” Zedd said to Chase. “It could be no more serious than that.”
Rikka surveyed Zedd’s face for a moment, as if checking for any overt signs of insanity, then turned her attention to Chase. “What is he jabbering about?”
“Something about books,” Chase told her.
She turned a growing glare on Zedd. “Well, after all the trouble I went to fixing you this meal, you are going to sit right down and eat it. If you don’t, then I’ll feed it to the worms in the midden heap, instead. Then, when you get hungry later and come to me complaining, you will only have yourself to blame. You’ll get no sympathy from me.”
Startled, Zedd blinked at her. “What? What did you say?”
“I’m going to feed it to the worms if you don’t—”
“Bags!” Zedd snapped his fingers. “That’s it!” He held his arms out to her. “Rikka, you’re a genius. I could hug you.”
Rikka straightened defiantly. “I prefer to accept your adoration from afar.”
Zedd wasn’t listening to her. He rubbed his hands together as he tried to remember exactly where it was that he’d seen the reference. It had been ages ago. But how long ago, exactly? And where?
“What is it?” Chase asked. “Have you solved the puzzle?”
Zedd’s mouth twisted with the effort of thought. “I recall reading a reference to such an event. I remember seeing some kind of exegesis.”
“A what?”
“An explanation. An analysis of this issue.”
“So then it is some…book thing.”
Zedd nodded. “Yes, exactly. I just need to remember where it was that I saw the passage. It was about worms.”
Chase cast a sidelong glance at Rikka before he scratched his head of thick, graying brown hair. “Worms?”
Zedd dry-washed his hands as vague recollections ghosted through his mind. Those shadowy memories were real, he was sure of it, but despite his frantic effort to grasp them and pull them into the light of consciousness, they remained just out of reach.
“Zedd, what are you talking about?” Rikka asked. “What did you say? Worms?”
“What? Oh, yes, that’s right. Worms. Prophetic worms. It was some kind of evaluation, I think, examining if such a thing might be able to erode prophecy.”
Chase and Rikka stared at him as if he were crazy but said nothing.
Zedd paced from the table to the corner bookcase and back. He pushed the heavy oak chair aside with a foot as he walked back and forth, thinking. He ran through a list of places that might have a book that would contain such a reference. There were libraries all over the Keep. There were thousands of books in those libraries—maybe tens of thousands. If he had even seen the reference at the Wizard’s Keep. He had visited any number of libraries in other places. There were a number of archives in the Confessors’ Palace, down in Aydindril. There were palaces on Kings Row, also in Aydindril, that contained extensive collections of books. There were any number of cities that Zedd had visited with repositories and archives. There were so many books, how was he to remember one he hadn’t seen for ages—perhaps since he was young?
“What, exactly, are you talking about?” Rikka asked when she tired of watching him pace. “What explanation are you talking about?”
“I’m not sure, yet. It was a long time ago. Had to be. Had to be when I was young. I will remember, I’m sure of it. I just have to give it some thought. Even if it takes all night, I will remember where I saw the passage. I wish I had my reason chair,” he muttered as he turned away.
Rikka frowned at Chase as she kept an eye on Zedd as he paced. “His what?”
“Back in Westland,” Chase said in a low voice, “he had a chair on his porch where he would sit and think—where he would reason out problems. That was back when everything started, when Darken Rahl came and tried to capture him and Richard. They fled just in time. They came to me and I led them through a gap to the boundary.”
“Seems to me that there are chairs enough around here. He’s practically tripping over that one, there.” Rikka’s mouth twisted with exasperation. “Besides, a person doesn’t need a chair to make their brain work. At least, if they do, they have bigger problems.”
“I suppose.” Together with Rikka, Chase watched Zedd pace for a while. Finally, not being one to stand around, he caught the sleeve of Zedd’s robes. “I guess I’d better go see to Rachel while you work out your solution. I want to make sure she gets her things together and gets to bed.”
Zedd swished a hand, urging the man on his way. “Yes, you’re right. Go ahead. Tell her I will come to kiss her good night after a while. I just need to think on th
is a bit.”
Once he was gone, Rikka leaned a leather-covered hip against the heavy desk and folded her arms under her breasts. “Are you saying that the words of prophecy vanishing was caused by some kind of worm, like a bookworm that eats the paste or the paper?”