It was almost imperceptible, but the three flinched. Together, they bowed their heads slightly.

“Forgive us, Mother Confessor.”

The air of threat in the spirit house was still palpable. Kahlan realized her hands were fists. It came to her that she felt this way because they were a threat to Richard. She decided it was time to act like the Mother Confessor.

“Where are you three from?” she asked in an icy voice.

“We are from… far away.”

Kahlan’s glare was beginning to match Richard’s. “In the Midlands, a bow to the Mother Confessor is done on at least one knee.” It was a custom she almost never had any interest in enforcing, but she felt the need now.

The three leaned back as one, standing straighter. Their indignant frowns deepened.

It was enough to bring out the sword.

The distinctive ringing of steel hung in the air. Richard said nothing; he simply stood holding the sword in both hands. Kahlan could see his muscles straining to be released. The Sword of Truth’s magic danced dangerously in his eyes. She was glad his glower wasn’t directed at her; it was frightening. The three didn’t appear to be as frightened by it as she would have expected, but they turned to her, and together, went to one knee, bowing their heads again.

“Forgive us, Mother Confessor,” Sister Grace said. “We are not familiar with your customs. We meant no offense.” They kept their heads down.

Kahlan waited the appropriate period, and then added a few long seconds. “Rise, my children.”

When they came to their feet they clasped their hands in front again.

Sister Verna took a deep, impatient breath. “We are not here to frighten you, Richard. We are here to help you. Put the sword away.” The last held a harsh hint of command to it.

Richard didn’t move. “I was told you said you came for me, whatever that means, and that I must not run. I haven’t been running. I am the Seeker. I will decide when to put away the sword.”

The Se…” Sister Elizabeth almost shouted. “You are the Seeker?”

The three exchanged looks again.

“State your business,” Richard said. “Now.”

Sister Grace took an impatient breath this time. “Richard, we are not here to harm you. Are you that afraid of three women?”

“Even one woman is cause enough for fear. I have learned that lesson the hard way. I no longer harbor foolish inhibitions about killing women. Last time offered: state your business, or this conversation is ended.”

She glanced to the Agiel around his neck. “Yes, we can see you have learned some lessons.” Her face softened a little. “Richard, you need our help. We have come because you have the gift.”

Richard looked at each of them before he again spoke. “You have been seriously misinformed. I don’t have the gift nor do I want anything to do with it.”

He slid the sword back into its scabbard. “I’m sorry you have come a long way for nothing.” He took Kahlan’s arm. “The Mud People don’t like outsiders. Their weapons are tipped with poison, and they are not shy about using them. I will tell them to grant you safe passage out of their land. I advise you not to test their restraint.”

Richard led Kahlan by the arm toward the door. She could feel the rage radiating from him, could see the anger in his eyes, and something else, too: his headache. She could see the pain he suffered.

The headaches will kill you,” Sister Grace said quietly.

Richard froze in his tracks, his chest heaving as he stared ahead at nothing. “I’ve had headaches all my life. I’m used to them.”

“Not like these,” Sister Grace pressed. “We can see it in your eyes. We recognize the headaches of the gift. It’s our job.”

There is a healer here who is taking care of them. She is very good. She has already helped me, and I am confident she will soon cure me of them.”

“She can’t. No one can but us. If you don’t let us help you, the headaches will kill you. That is why we’re here; to help you, not to bring you to harm.”

Richard’s hand stretched for the latch. “You needn’t concern yourselves about me. I’m not cursed with the gift. Everything is under control. Safe journey to you, ladies.”

Kahlan gently put her hand on his arm, preventing him from reaching the latch. “Richard,” she whispered. “Maybe we should at least listen to them. What harm can there be in listening to them? Perhaps you could learn something useful to help the headaches.”

“I don’t have the gift! I don’t want anything to do with magic! Magic has caused me nothing but trouble, nothing but pain. I don’t have the gift and I don’t want it.” He reached for the latch again.

“And I suppose you are going to tell us that your eating habits haven’t changed, all of a sudden,” Sister Grace said. “I would say in just the last few days.”

Richard froze again. “Everyone has changes in mood about what they want to eat.”

“Has anyone watched you sleep?”

“What?”

“If anyone has watched you sleep, they will have noticed that you now sleep with your eyes open.”

Kahlan felt a cold wave of goose bumps. Everything was starting to connect. Wizards all had odd, specific eating habits, and they all slept with their eyes open, sometimes; even those without the gift. In those with the gift, like Zedd, it was more often.

“I don’t sleep with my eyes open. You are wrong.”

“Richard,” Kahlan whispered, “maybe we should listen to them. Hear what they have to say.”

He looked to her, as if pleading for her to help him escape this. Pleading for her help. “I don’t sleep with my eyes open.”

“Yes, you do.” She put a hand on his arm. “I have seen you sleeping for months as we were trying to stop Rahl. When I stood watch, I often saw you sleep. Only since we left D’Hara have I seen you sleep with your eyes open, just like Zedd does.”

Richard still had his back to the three women. “What do you want? How can you help me with the headaches?” he called to them.

“If we are to discuss this, we are not going to talk to the back of your head.” Sister Verna’s tone was like one used when talking to an obstinate child. “You will address us properly.”

It was the wrong tone to use on Richard at that moment. He yanked the door open and slammed it as he went out.

Kahlan thought the door might come off its hinges, but it didn’t. She felt heartsick about what she had said to him. He had wanted her to take his side; he was in no mood to hear the truth.

She was puzzled by his attitude. Richard was not one to avoid the truth. But he was deathly afraid of something. She turned and looked at the three women.

Sister Grace separated her hands and let them hang at her sides. This is no game, Mother Confessor. If he isn’t helped by us, he is going to die. He doesn’t have much time.”

Kahlan nodded, her anger gone, replaced by an empty sadness. “I will go talk to him,” she said in a small voice that was almost lost in the large room. “Please wait here. I will bring him back.”

Richard was sitting on the ground, leaning against the short wall, right under where his sword had cut a swath the night before when the screeling had come. His elbows were on his knees, his hands over his head, fingers locked together. He didn’t look up. Kahlan sat tight against him.

“Your head hurts pretty bad right now, doesn’t it?”

He nodded. She pulled the dry shaft of a weed and held it between her hands as she rested her forearms on her knees. As if what she had said reminded him, he took some leaves out of his shirt pocket and put them in his mouth.

Kahlan stripped a little leaf off the stem. “Richard, tell me, what are you afraid of?”

He chewed the leaves a moment, and then lifted his head, leaning back. “do you remember when the screeling came, and I said I sensed it, and you said maybe it was just that I heard it?” She nodded. “When I killed that man today, I sensed him too, just like the screeling. It was just the same. Danger. I didn’t know what either was, but I sensed the danger. I knew there was trouble, but I didn’t know what kind.”