Stone of Tears by Terry Goodkind
The door slammed shut by itself, making her jump.
The Bird Man's distant eyes came up. "From now, until we are finished, near dawn, no one may go out, no one may come in. The door is barred by the spirits."
Kahlan didn't like the idea that, as Richard had said, this could be a trap. She squeezed his hand more tightly. He returned the squeeze. At least, she thought, she was with him. She hoped she could protect him. She hoped she could call the lightning if she had to.
The Bird Man fished out a frog and then passed the woven basket to the next elder. Kahlan stared at the skulls arranged in a circle in the center as each elder took a frog and began rubbing its back against the bare circle of skin on his chest. As they did so, each rolled his head back and chanted different words. Without looking over, Savidlin passed her the basket.
Closing her eyes, she reached inside and finally caught a squirming, kicking spirit frog. Its smooth, slimy skin was revolting. Swallowing hard, and taking a mental grip on her Confessor's power to try to keep from releasing it unintentionally, she pressed the frog's back to the skin between her breasts as she passed the basket to Richard.
Tingling tightness spread across her skin. She freed the frog and took up Richard's hand once more as the walls began to waver, as if seen through heat and smoke. Her mind tried in vain to hold on to the images of the spirit house around her. They drifted away as she felt herself spinning around the skulls.
Soft sensations caressed her skin. Light danced from the skulls in the center and filled her eyes. Sounds of the boldas and drums and chanting filled her ears. The pungent smell from the fire filled her lungs. As once before, the light from the center brightened, taking them into it, into the silken void, spinning them around.
And then there were shapes around them. Kahlan remembered them, too, from before: the ancestors' spirits. She felt a gossamer touch on her shoulder: a hand; a spirit hand.
The Bird Man's mouth moved, but it wasn't his voice. It was the joined voices of the ancestors' spirits, flat, hollow, dead.
"Who calls this gathering?"
Kahlan leaned toward Richard, and whispered, "They want to know who calls this gathering."
He nodded. "I do. I call this gathering."
The touch left her shoulder and the spirits all floated from behind them into the center of the circle.
"Speak your name." The echo of their voices sent ripples of pain along the skin of her arms. "Your full and true name. If you are certain that you wish this gathering, despite the danger, speak the request after your name. You get but this one warning."
Richard stared at her translation. "Richard, please..."
"I have to." He looked back to the spirits in the center and took a deep breath. "I am Richard..." He swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment. "I am Richard Rahl, and I request this gathering."
"So be it," came the empty whispers.
The door to the spirit house crashed open.
Kahlan jumped with a little shriek. She felt Richard's hand flinch, too. The doorway stood open, a black maw in the soft light around them. The elders all looked up, their eyes no longer glazed with the distant vision. They seemed confused, dazed.
The spirit voices came again, this time not through the elders, but from the center, from the spirits themselves. The sound of it was even more painful than before.
"All but the one who calls the ancestors' spirits may leave. Leave while you still can. Heed our warning. Those who remain behind with him risk forfeiting their souls." They turned as one to Richard. Their voices were a hiss. "You may not leave."
The elders' frightened eyes flicked around to each other as she translated for Richard. Kahlan knew: this had never happened before.
"Everyone out," Richard whispered. "Have everyone get out. I don't want them hurt."
Kahlan looked to the Bird Man's worried eyes. "Please. All of you, leave now. While you can. We don't want harm to come to any of you."
The elders all looked to the Bird Man. He stared at her a moment, glanced at Richard, and then back to her.
"I can offer you no guidance, child. This has never happened before. I don't know what it means."
Kahlan nodded. "I understand. Go now, before it is too late."
Savidlin touched her shoulder, and then the elders vanished as they walked through the black void of the doorway. She sat in the quiet with Richard; with the spirits.
"Kahlan, I want you out of here, too. Go. Now." His voice was calm, almost cold. Fear danced in his eyes. And magic.
She watched his face as he stared at the spirits.
"No," she whispered. She turned once more to the center. "I will not leave you. Not for any reason. Though no words have been spoken over us, we are joined in our hearts, by my magic. We are one. What happens to one, happens to both. I am staying."
Richard didn't look over. He continued to stare at the spirits as they floated in the center of the room, above the skulls. She thought he would yell at her to leave. He didn't. His voice came soft and gentle.
"Thank you. I love you, Kahlan Amnell. Together, then."
The door banged closed.
Kahlan jumped, and a little sound escaped from her throat before she could catch it. Her heart pounded in her ears. She tried to slow her breathing, but couldn't. She swallowed instead.
The image of the spirits dimmed. "What you have called forth, Richard Rahl, we cannot stay to witness. We are sorry."
Their forms seemed to evaporate as she watched. As they vanished, the light went with them, until the two of them were left in total blackness. She could hear the slow crackle of the fire off beyond that blackness, Richard's quick breathing, her own breathing, and nothing else. Richard's hand found hers. In the darkness, they sat together, alone, naked.
As Kahlan began to think, to hope, that nothing was going to happen, she became aware of a slight brightening in front of her. There was light beginning to glow.
Green light.
A shade of green light she had seen from only one place.
The Underworld.
Her breaths came in ragged pulls. The green light brightened, and with it, distant wails.
From the air all about came an ear-splitting crack, like a clap of thunder, sudden, hard, painful. The ground shook with the impact of it.
From the center of the green light, a white brilliance oozed through, to coalesce into a form and stand before them. Her breath caught in her throat. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood out stiffly.
The white form took a step closer. She only dimly realized Richard's grip on her hand was hurting her. Kahlan knew the white robes, the long blond hair, the painfully handsome face that stood before them, smiling that small, gruesome smile.
"Dear spirits protect us," she whispered.
It was Darken Rahl.
As one, she and Richard came slowly to their feet. The glowing, blue eyes watched them rise. Relaxed, unhurried, Darken Rahl brought a hand up and licked his fingertips.
"Thank you, Richard, for calling me back." His cruel smile widened. "How thoughtful of you."
"I... didn't call you back," Richard whispered.
Darken Rahl laughed a quiet laugh. "Once again, you make a mistake. Call me back you did. You called a gathering. A gathering of ancestors' spirits. I am your ancestor. Only you could have brought me back, through the veil. Only you."
"I denounce you."
"Denounce me all you will." He held his arms out, out in the white light around him. "I am still here."
"But I killed you."
The glowing, shimmering, white robed form laughed again. "Killed me? So you did. And, you used magic to send me to a different place. A place where I am known. A place where I have... friends. And now you have called me back. Again with magic. Not simply called me back, Richard, but torn the veil further to do so." He slowly shook his head. "Is there no end to your stupidity?"
Darken Rahl seemed to float, and at the same time walk, toward Richard. Richard let go of her
Richard's eyes were wide. "I killed you. I defeated you. I won. You lost."
The blond head nodded slowly. "You won a small battle, in a timeless war, by using the gift, and the Wizard's First Rule. But in your ignorance, you violated the Wizard's Second Rule, and in so doing, you have lost it all." His slow, wicked smile came back. "Such a shame. Didn't anyone ever tell you? Magic is dangerous. I could have taught you. Could have shared it all with you." He shrugged. "But it doesn't matter. You have helped me win even without being taught. I couldn't be more proud of you."
"What is the Wizard's Second Rule? What did I do!"
Rahl's eyebrows lifted as he took another step closer.
"Why, Richard, don't you know? You should," he whispered. "You have broken it a second time, today. And in violating it a second time, you have torn the veil once more, a second time, and brought me here, so that I might tear it the rest of the way and free the Keeper." His mocking smile returned. "All by yourself." He gave a taunting laugh. "My son. You should never have meddled in things you don't understand."
"What do you want!"
Rahl drifted closer. "You, my son. You." His hand began to rise toward Richard. "You sent me to another world, and now, in turn, I am going to send you there. You are for the Keeper. He wants you. You are his."
Without even realizing it, Kahlan's fist was up, the Con Dar igniting in in the depths of her being. Rage exploded through her, and blue lightning erupted from her fist. The dark void around them was ripped away in a fury of light and sound that shook the ground under her feet. The spirit house was back, lit by the blue bolt as it arced toward Darken Rahl.
Effortlessly, his hand came up, deflecting the strike. The bolt of lightning split. One shaft blasted through the roof, into the black sky, sending a shower of tile fragments raining down. The other fork struck the ground, throwing dirt hurtling everywhere.
Darken Rahl's eyes met hers. His gaze seared her very soul. He smiled the most wicked smile she had ever seen. It seemed to make ever fiber of her being ache. She tried to call forth the power again, but nothing happened. He had done something. Kahlan tried, but she couldn't move a muscle. Richard seemed as paralyzed as she.
Her world was collapsing in a frightening rush. Richard, she wailed in her mind. My Richard. Oh, dear Spirits, don't let this happen.
His eyes burning with rage, Richard managed to take a step forward, but Darken Rahl put his hand to the left side of his chest, above his heart, stopping him stone still.
"I mark you, Richard. For the Keeper. With the Keeper's mark. You are his."
Richard threw his head back. His scream seemed to rend the very fabric of the air, and tear her heart and soul with its despair. Kahlan felt as if she died a thousand deaths in that instant.
As Darken Rahl held his hand to Richard's chest, wisps of smoke curled away. Kahlan's nostrils filled with the stench of burning flesh.
Darken Rahl pulled his hand back. "The price of ignorance, Richard. You are marked. You are the Keeper's, now. Now, and forever. The journey begins."
Richard collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Kahlan didn't know if he was unconscious, or dead. Something held her up, but it wasn't her legs. It was the strings held by Darken Rahl.
He glided closer to her. He loomed over her, crushing her in blinding brilliance. Kahlan wanted to shrink away, to close her eyes, but she could not.
Finally, she regained her voice. "Kill me too," she whispered. "Send me where you have sent him. Please."
His glowing hand reached toward her. The agony in her heart tore her mind senseless. His fingers fanned open. His touch on her flesh sent fire and ice through her in a wave of shock.
The hand pulled back.
"No." Darken Rahl's pitiless smile spread anew. "No. That would be too easy. Better to let him see what happens to you. Better to let him watch, helpless." The smile showed teeth for the first time. "Better to let him suffer it." His eyes had an intensity that seemed to impale her. It was the same frightening glare Richard had inherited.
"You live, for now. Soon enough, you will twist in a different pain, living, and dead," he whispered in a measured, merciless tone. "He will watch. Forever. I will watch. Forever. The Keeper will watch. Forever."
"Please," she cried, "send me with him."
A finger reached out and touched a tear. The pain of the touch made her flinch. "Since you love him so much, I will give you a gift." He turned and drew his arm smoothly through the air in Richard's direction. His frightening blue eyes returned to her. "I will let him live a short time longer. Long enough for you to watch as the Keeper's mark bleeds the life from him. Bleeds his soul from him. Time is nothing. The Keeper will have him. I give you this spark of time in forever to watch the one you love die."
He leaned toward her. She struggled to back away, but couldn't. His lips left a kiss on her cheek. The pain of it sent a silent shriek through her and filled her mind with a vision of being raped. Luminous fingers lifted her hair from her neck. His mouth was by her ear.
"Enjoy my gift," he whispered intimately. "In time, I will have you, too. Forever. Between life and death. Forever. I would like to tell you how much you will suffer, but I am afraid you would not be able to comprehend it. Soon enough, I will show you." He gave a whispering laugh in her ear. "After I have torn the veil the rest of the way, and freed the Keeper."
As she stood helpless, he left another kiss on her neck. The horror of the visions it seared through her mind left her feeling defiled beyond anything she had thought possible. "Just a tiny taste. Good bye, for now, Mother Confessor."
As he turned from her, she was able to move again. She snatched desperately for the power. It wouldn't come. She cried and shook as she watched him glide through the doorway of the spirit house and disappear.
And then she collapsed to the ground with a wail of agony. Convulsing in ragged sobs, she clawed across the dirt to Richard.
He lay on his side, away from her. She pulled him over on his back. His arm flopped to his side, limp. His head rolled toward her. He looked ashen, dead. On his chest was a burned hand-print—the Keeper's mark. The blackened skin was cracked and bleeding. His life, his soul, was bleeding away.
She fell on him, clutched at him, as she wept and shook uncontrollably.
Kahlan gripped her fingers into a fist in his hair and pressed her face against his cold cheek. "Please, Richard," she cried in choking sobs, "please don't leave me. I would do anything for you. I would die in your place. Don't die. Don't leave me. Please, Richard. Don't die."
She crouched against him, her world ending. Dying. She could think of nothing to do, other than cry that she loved him. He was dying, and she could do nothing to stop it. She could feel his breathing slow.
She willed herself to die with him, but death wouldn't come. She lost all sense of time. She didn't know if she had been there a few minutes, or a few hours. She didn't know what was real anymore. It all felt like a nightmare. With trembling fingers, she stroked his face. His skin was dead cold.
"You would be Kahlan."
She spun around, sitting up, at the sound of the woman's voice coming from behind her. The door to the spirit house was closed again. In the darkness, a white, spiritlike glow towered over her. It appeared to be a spirit, a woman, her hands clasped in front of her. She watched with a pleasant smile. Her hair, as best as Kahlan could make of it, was plaited in a single braid.
"Who are you?"
The figure sank down to sit in front of her. The spirit had no clothes Kahlan could make out, but didn't appear to be naked either. The woman looked at Richard. A glaze of both longing and anguish came over her fair features. The spirit turned to Kahlan.
"I am Denna."
The shock of the name, and her proximity to Richard brought Kahlan's fist up in a jerk. Lightning screamed to be released. Before Kahlan could let it go, Denna spoke again.
"He is dying.
Kahlan hesitated. "You can help him?"
"We both can, maybe. If you love him enough."
Kahlan's hopes flared. "I would do anything. Anything."
Denna nodded. "I hope so."
Denna looked back to Richard and tenderly stroked his chest. Kahlan was a blink away from releasing the power. She didn't know if Denna was trying to hurt him, or help him. She hoped against hope. This was her only chance to save Richard. Richard took a deep breath. Kahlan's heart leapt.
Denna withdrew her hand and smiled. "He is still with you."
Kahlan lowered her fist a little, and wiped tears from her cheek with the fingers of her other hand. She didn't like the look of longing Denna had as she watched Richard. Not one bit. "How did you get here? Richard couldn't have called you; you are not his ancestor."
Denna turned, her small, dreamy smile fading. "It would be impossible to relate it to you accurately, but perhaps I could explain it enough that it would help you to understand. I was in a place of darkness and peace. It was disturbed as Darken Rahl passed through. His passing through is something that is not supposed to happen. As he neared, I sensed that Richard had somehow called him, and enabled him to pass from where he was, held by a veil, and to come here.
"I know Darken Rahl all too well, and I knew what he would do to Richard. So I followed him. I would never have been able to pass through my own veil, but by latching on to him, I was able to come through, too, to follow in his wake. I came because I knew what Darken Rahl would do to Richard. I don't know how to explain it better."
Kahlan nodded. She wasn't seeing a spirit; she was seeing a woman who had taken Richard as her mate. The power boiled angrily inside her. She struggled to put it down, telling herself that this was to save Richard. She didn't know any other way; she had to let Denna help, if she could. Kahlan had said she would do anything, and she meant it. Even if it was not to try to kill someone who was already dead. Someone she wanted to kill a thousand times and then another thousand.