“He never told me that.”

“Richard, I was born and raised in Aydindril. I spent a good portion of my life in the Wizard’s Keep. It’s a huge fortress. In times long ago, hundreds of wizards lived there. When I grew up, there were only the six, and none were wizards of the First Order.

“It is not an easy place to enter. I was able to because I’m a Confessor, and needed to learn from books kept there. All the Confessors had access to the keep. But it was protected, by magic, from any others entering.”

“If you’re asking, I don’t know how my father did it. He was a pretty smart man; he must have figured it out.”

“If the book was in the Keep itself, maybe. There were wizards and Confessors coming and going, and at times others were permitted to enter. Perhaps someone could have found a way to sneak in. Even once inside, there are areas protected more strongly by magic. Areas even I could not enter.

“But Zedd said the Book of Counted Shadows was an important book of magic, very important. He said he kept it in his keep: the wizard of the First Order’s keep. That is altogether different. It’s separate from the rest, part of the larger Keep, but set off by itself.

“I’ve walked the long ramparts to the First Wizard’s Keep. There is a beautiful view of Aydindril from there. Just walking the ramparts, I could feel the awesome power of the spells that protect that place. It made your skin crawl. If you went close enough, the power of the protection spells made the hair lift off your shoulders and stick out in all directions, popping and snapping with little sparks. If you went closer still, the spells filled you with a sensation of dread so strong you couldn’t force your feet to take another step, or your lungs to draw another breath.

“Since Zedd left the Midlands, before we were born, none had entered the First Wizard’s Keep. The other wizards tried. To enter, there is a plate you must touch. It is said touching the plate is like touching the frozen heart of the Keeper himself. If the magic doesn’t recognize you as one permitted entry, you cannot gain entrance. Touching the plate without at least the protection of your own magic, or even just getting close enough to the spells themselves, can be death.

“Since I was young, and first went to the Keep to learn from the books, the wizards had been trying to get in. They wanted to know what was inside. The First Wizard was gone, and they thought they should take an inventory, thought they should at least know what was in there.

“They never succeeded. Not one of them was ever able to so much as place a hand to the plate. Richard, if five wizards of the Third Order, and one of the Second, could not get in, how did your father?”

He sighed. “I wish I had an answer for you, Kahlan, but I don’t.”

She didn’t want to dash his hopes, give irrefutable life to his fears, but she had to. The truth was the truth. He had to know that truth about himself.

“Richard, the Book of Counted Shadows was a book of instruction for magic. It was magic.”

“I have no doubt of that. I know what I saw when we burned it.”

She stroked the back of his hand with her finger. There were other books of instruction for magic in the Keep: less important ones. The wizards let me look at them. When I would read them, I would get to a place in the books, and a strange thing would happen, sometimes after only a few words, sometimes after a few pages: I would forget what I had just read. I couldn’t remember a word of it. Not a single word. I would go back and read it again, and the same thing would happen.

“The wizards would smile watching me, and then they would laugh. After a while of trying to read the books, and not knowing what I had just read, I finally got frustrated and asked what was happening. They told me that books of instruction for magic are protected by powerful spells invoked at certain words in the books. They said none but one with the gift could read a book of magic instruction and remember so much as a single word. Those six wizards were wizards by calling, not by the gift. Even they couldn’t read all the books and know what they said, only the less important ones, and only then because of their training.

“Zedd told us that the Book of Counted Shadows was one of the most important books in the Keep, so important it was kept in the First Wizard’s enclave.

“Richard, you would never have been able to memorize it if you didn’t have the gift. There is no other way. Somehow, your father must have known, that is why he chose you to learn it.”

Her head was still resting on his shoulder, and she felt his breathing halt for a moment as he realized the significance of what she had told him. “Richard, do you still remember the book?”

His voice came low and distant. “Every word.”

Though I heard you recite it, and I know you spoke it all, I cannot remember a word of what you said. The magic of certain words erased it all from my mind. I don’t know how you used it to defeat Darken Rahl.”

The first of the book said that if the words were being told to the one who controlled the boxes of Orden, and not read by that person, then the only way that person could know the words were true was with the use of a Confessor. Rahl thought you had taken me with your power, and so he thought I was speaking all the words true. I did speak the words true, but I left out an important part at the end so he would pick the box that would kill him.”

“You see? You still remember the words. You could not do that if you didn’t have the gift; the magic would prevent it. Richard, if we are going to get out of this, we have to at least face the truth, and then think of what to do about it.

“My love, you have the gift. You have magic. I’m sorry, but that is the truth of it.”

He let out an exasperated breath. “I guess I just so badly didn’t want it to be that I have been trying to talk myself out of it. But things don’t work that way. I hope you don’t think me a fool. Thank you for loving me enough to make me see the truth.”

“You are no fool. You are my love. We will think of something.” She kissed the back of his hand and they watched the sky in silence. It was a dark, cold gray, a mirror to her mood.

“I wish you could have met my father. He was a special person. I guess even I never knew how special. I miss him.” He stared off into his own thoughts. “What of your father?”

Kahlan twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. “My father was mate to my mother; mate to a Confessor. He was not a father in the way a man is a father to other children. He had been taken by her power, and there was nothing to him but his devotion to her. He paid heed to me only to please my mother, only because I was born to her. He didn’t see me as myself, but only as a part of the Confessor he was bonded to.”

Richard pulled a piece of long grass and flattened the end of it between his front teeth as he thought, at last asking, “Who was he before she took him with the magic?”

“He was Wyborn Amnell. King of Galea.”

Richard pushed himself up on an elbow, looking down at her with surprise. “King! Your father was a king?”

Without realizing she was doing it, her expression slipped into the calm exterior that showed nothing: a Confessor’s face.

“My father was mate to a Confessor. That was all that was in him. When my mother was dying of a terrible wasting illness, he was in a constant state of panic. One day the wizard and the healer who had been tending her came to us and said there was nothing more they could do, that the spirits would soon take her to be with them, that she would soon pass from life.

“With a wail of anguish like none I have ever heard, my father clutched his chest and fell to the floor, dead.”

Richard gazed into her eyes. “I’m sorry, Kahlan.” He bent and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.