“These things are starting to taste better.”

Kahlan stroked his forehead. “How do you feel?”

“A little better. The pain comes and goes. I think these leaves are helping. Except they are making my head spin.”

“But better to spin than to pound?”

“Yes.” He put his hand on her arm and closed his eyes. “Who were you talking to?”

That fool, Chandalen. He’s guarding the spirit house. He thinks we may bring more trouble.”

“Maybe he’s not such a fool. I don’t think that thing would have been here without us. What did you call it?”

“A screeling.”

“And what is a screeling?”

“I’m not sure. Nobody I know has ever seen one, but I’ve heard them described. They’re supposed to be from the underworld.”

Richard stopped chewing and opened his eyes to look at her. The underworld? What do you know about this screeling thing?”

“Not much.” She frowned. “Have you ever seen Zedd drunk?”

“Zedd? Never. He doesn’t like wine. Just food. He says that drinking interferes with thinking, and there is nothing more important than thinking.” Richard smiled. “He says that the worse a man is at thinking, the better he is at drinking.”

“Well, wizards can get pretty scary when they’re drunk. One time when I was little, I was in the Keep, studying my languages. They have books of languages there. Anyway, I was studying, and four of the wizards were reading a book of prophecy together. It was a book I had never seen before.

They were leaning over it, and started getting all worked up. They were talking in hushed tones. I could tell they were frightened. At the time it was a lot more fun to watch wizards than to read my languages.

“I looked up and they had all turned white as snow. They all stood up straight at the same time, and flipped the cover shut. I remember it banged and made me jump. They all stood there, quiet for a while, and then one went away and came back with a bottle. Without saying a word, he passed out cups and poured out the drink. They all drank it down in one swallow. He poured more and they did the same thing again. They sat down on stools around the table the big book was on and kept drinking until the bottle was empty. By that time they were pretty happy. And drunk. They were laughing and singing. I thought it was tremendously interesting. I had never seen anything like it.

They finally saw me watching them, and called me over. I didn’t really want to go, but they were wizards, and I knew them pretty well, so I wasn’t afraid and I went over to them. One set me up on his knee and asked if I wanted to sing with them. I told them that I didn’t know the song they were singing. They looked at each other and then said they would teach me. So we sat there for a long time and they taught me the song.”

“So, do you remember it?”

Kahlan nodded. “I’ve never forgotten that song.” She rearranged herself a little and then sang it for him.

The screelings are loose and the Keeper may win.

His assassins have come to rip off your skin.

Golden eyes will see you if you try to run.

The screelings will get you and laugh like it’s fun.

Walk away slow or they’ll tear you apart,

and laugh all day long as they rip out your heart.

Golden eyes will see you if you try to stand still.

The screelings will get you, for the Keeper they kill.

Hack “em up, chop “em up, cut “em to bits,

or else they will get you while laughing in fits.

If the screelings don’t get you the Keeper will try,

to reach out and touch you, your skin he will fry.

Your mind he will flail, your soul he will take.

You’ll sleep with the dead, for life you’ll forsake.

You’ll die with the Keeper till the end of time.

He hates that you live, your life is the crime.

The screelings might get you, it says so in text.

If screelings don’t get you the Keeper is next,

lest he who’s born true can fight for life’s bond.

And that one is marked; he’s the pebble in the pond.

Richard stared at her when she finished. “Pretty gruesome song to teach a child.” Finally, he resumed chewing the leaves.

Kahlan nodded with a sigh. That night, I had terrible nightmares. My mother came into my room and sat on my bed. She hugged me and asked what I was having nightmares about. I sang her the song the wizards had taught me. She climbed into my bed and stayed with me that night.

The next day she went to see the wizards. I never knew what she did or said to them, but for the next few months, whenever they saw her coming they turned and hurried off the other way. And for a good long time they avoided me like death itself.”

Richard took another leaf from the little bag and put it in his mouth. The screelings are sent by the Keeper? The Keeper of the underworld?”

That’s what the song says. It must be true. How could anything of this world take that many arrows and just laugh?”

Richard thought in silence a moment. “What is “the pebble in the pond’?”

Kahlan shrugged. “I’ve never heard of it before or since.”

“What about the blue lightning? How did you do that?”

“It’s something to do with the Con Dar. I did it before when it came over me the first time.” She took a deep breath at the memory. “When I thought you were dead. I’d never felt the Con Dar before, but now I feel it there all the time, just as I can always feel the Confessor’s magic. The two are somehow connected. I must have awakened it. I think it’s what Adie warned me about that time we were with her. But Richard, I don’t know how I did it.”

Richard smiled. “You never fail to amaze me. If I just found out I could call down lightning, I don’t think I would be sitting there so calmly.”

“Well, you just remember what I can do,” she warned, “if some pretty girl ever bats her lashes at you.”

He took her hand. There are no other pretty girls.”

The fingers of her other hand combed through his hair. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “Lie down next to me. I want you close. I’m afraid of never waking, and I want to be close to you.”

“You will wake,” she promised cheerfully.

She took out another blanket and pulled it over the two of them. She cuddled close, her head on his shoulder and an arm over his chest, and tried not to worry about what he had said.

When she woke, her back was against the warmth of him. Light was seeping in around the edges of the door. She sat up, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and looked down at Richard.

He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, taking slow, shallow breaths. She smiled at the familiar pleasure of his face. He was so handsome it made her ache.

Suddenly she realized with a jolt what it was about him that looked so familiar to her. Richard looked like Darken Rahl. Not the same kind of impossible perfection—the flawlessly smooth, uninterrupted sweep of features that were too exactly right, like some precisely perfect statue—but more rugged, rougher; more real.

Before they’d defeated Rahl, when Shota, the witch woman, had appeared to them as Richard’s mother, Kahlan had seen her looks in Richard’s nose and mouth. It was as if Richard had Darken Rahl’s face with some of his mother’s features making it better than Rahl’s cruel perfection. Rahl’s hair was fine, straight, and blond, while Richard’s was coarser and darker. And Richard’s eyes were gray instead of Rahl’s blue, but they both possessed the same penetrating intensity—the same kind of raptor’s gaze that seemed as if it could cut steel.

Though she didn’t know how it could be possible, she knew Richard had Rahl blood. But Darken Rahl was from D’Hara, and Richard from Westland; that was about as far apart as you could get. It must be, she finally decided, a connection in the distant past.