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Severed Souls(44)

By:Terry Goodkind


“What makes you think—” Zedd began.

“That’s the plan Richard laid out. He let himself go unconscious so that they will follow us. What we’re doing here is not going to save us. We have to do something else or we are all going to die right here. This is the best chance we have. He put his life at great risk for this to work, for us to have a chance, so I’m not about to listen to any argument. Got it?”

“Got it,” Zedd said a little more quietly.

“As soon as we make it up the gorge and after we get things under control,” Kahlan said to Nicci, “then you and Zedd can revive Richard.”

Kahlan could see that Zedd wanted to say something, but when he saw the look in her eyes, a look filled with the rage of the ancient weapon in her fist, he kept his mouth closed.

Nicci, on the other hand, had to speak. “Some of them have occult powers. We don’t even know what they are capable of.”

With the sword in her hand and its anger unleashed, the plan no longer felt crazy to her. It felt like a chance to kill the Shun-tuk before the Shun-tuk killed them.

“They can use those powers here as well. Sooner or later, they will. At least when we have them hemmed in up in the gorge they can’t scatter. That at least gives us a chance to cut them down. Even those with abilities, gifted or otherwise, will die when we run them through with swords.”

“You’re right,” Nicci said with a sigh. “Let’s get to it, then.”

Kahlan spotted Samantha running toward them with her mother in tow. She judged that the men would have to be in place on the slopes by now, or soon would be. With her free hand, Kahlan snatched up the reins of the horse near the bit.

“Come on,” she said to the people crowded around her, “let’s go kill these bastards.”





CHAPTER

22

At the far edge of the encampment near the brook, the commander used his thumb and a finger in the corners of his mouth to let out a loud whistle. The rising and falling notes, which all the men recognized, were the signal to begin the retreat.

Without hesitation, the men immediately turned and raced toward the spot where Kahlan and the others waited. Along the way they snatched up what gear they had, slinging packs and supplies over a shoulder.

As the men cleared the open area, the Shun-tuk were caught by surprise at how abruptly the soldiers abandoned the defensive line they had fought so hard to hold. For that brief moment they were confused and didn’t know what was happening, what to expect, or exactly how to respond. The swiftness of the surprise gave the men a small head start. It wasn’t much, but Kahlan knew that in battle such small windows of opportunity could mean the difference between life and death.

In preparation, Zedd had already formed a liquid ball of wizard’s fire between his outstretched hands. The sinister flame burned and tumbled and rolled like a thing alive as it hung in midair between his palms, hissing and spitting spiraling sparks.

Kahlan could see into the liquid core of the sphere, as if it were a world unto itself, a transparent, glowing, burning, full moon. This was a relic of ancient power, most of which had been lost over time. This was a window into the kind of power that used to exist in the world—the kind of power that Emperor Sulachan had once wielded, and now again brought back to the world of life.

Zedd held the spellbinding sight there between his palms, a lethal, obedient servant to his wishes, as he waited for the right moment. The lines and creases of his weathered face looked calm in the hissing, flickering light of his creation.

He appeared utterly tranquil as he waited to unleash the contained cataclysm he calmly carried between his hands.

Kahlan understood that calm. When she was about to release her power, she, too, went dead calm. All emotion was alien in that pristine moment where she alone was in control of such ancient power.

Wizard’s fire was legend among most people. It was so rarely seen, and by so few, that many people dismissed it as an ancient myth, a relic of past times. To those who believed it was real, especially those few who had ever actually seen it, wizard’s fire was greatly feared. Most who had seen it saw it in the instant before it killed them.

Kahlan had seen Zedd use wizard’s fire a number of times. It had been a necessity in the war, one of the few circumstances where there was a purpose for such violent destruction.

The wizards Kahlan had grown up with had lived their entire lives without ever once conjuring and unleashing such devastating power. It was likely most would not even know how.

Zedd knew how.

Kahlan noticed, though, that in the times he had used it before, Zedd had never seemed this calm. She had also never seen him hold it so close, like a special, beautiful treasure, for so long. And it was beautiful. It was terrifyingly exquisite.