Richard drew his knees up and locked his fingers over them. He rested his chin on the back of his hands as he thought about what Jamila had said.

In a way, she was right. The thing had been coming for him. Had he not been there it wouldn't have happened. If anyone else had been hurt or killed he would really be to blame for bringing danger near them. If not for him, Cara wouldn't be hurt.

He cautioned himself to put the blame on the guilty. That was Jagang and those working toward his goals. It was Jagang who had ordered the creation of the beast that was coming after Richard. Cara had simply been in the way. Cara had been trying to protect him from what Jagang and the Sisters of the Dark had created.

As Richard thought about Victor's men who had been killed a few days back, probably by that same beast, he couldn't help but to feel the awful weight of guilt.

And yet, the thing that had come into the inn had not harmed him. Richard had no doubt that it would have, but then it had simply vanished before its sinister work was finished. He couldn't imagine why it would do such a thing. Or why it had come through the walls the way it had. After all, if it went out the window, why didn't it just break in through the window in the first place? Whatever it was had demonstrated awareness by heading right for his room. Had it come in the window it would likely have had him before he knew what was happening. The thing that had killed Victor's men had behaved differently. Cara had not been ripped to shreds in the way they had, although it was clear that she had been seriously hurt.

He began to question that it really had been the same creature that had killed Victor's men. What if Jagang had created more than one beast, more then one weapon to come after him? What if the Sisters of the Dark had spawned an army of creatures to hunt him? All the questions seemed to swirl around in his mind, unable to form into answers.

Richard jumped when Nicci shook his shoulder. He realized that he must have fallen asleep.

"What?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. "What time is it? How long has it been.»

"It's been a few hours," Nicci said in a quiet, tired voice. "It's the middle of the night."

Richard rose expectantly to his feet. "Cara's all right, then? You healed her?"

Nicci stared at him for what seemed an eternity. It felt to Richard, as he looked into Nicci's timeless eyes, as if his heart were coming up in his throat.

"Richard," she finally said in a voice so soft and compassionate that it made his breathing stop, "Cara isn't going to make it."

Richard blinked at the words, trying to be certain that he understood what Nicci was really saying.

"I don't understand." He cleared his throat. "What do you mean?"

Nicci gently laid a hand on his arm. "I think you should come in and see her while she is still with us."

Richard seized her shoulders. "What are you talking about?"

"Richard.» Nicci's gaze sank to the floor. "Cara isn't going to make it. She is dying. She won't live the night."

Richard tried to retreat from the sorceress, but his back met the wall. "From what? What's wrong with her?"

"I don't know, exactly. She's been touched by something that has — has brought death into her. I don't know how to explain it because I don't really know exactly what she is dying from. All I know is that it has overwhelmed her body's defenses and moment by moment she is slipping away."

"But Cara is strong. She'll fight it. She'll make it."

Nicci was shaking her head. "No, Richard, she won't. I don't want to give you false hope. She is dying. I think she may even want to die."

Richard came forward off the wall. "What? That's crazy. She has no reason to want to die."

"You can't say that, Richard. You don't know what she is going through. You don't know her reasons. Maybe the suffering is too much for her. Maybe she can't endure the pain and she only wants it to end."

"If not for herself, Cara would do anything to stay alive in order to protect me."

Nicci licked her lips as she gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. "Maybe you're right, Richard."

Richard didn't like being humored. He looked from the door back to the sorceress. "Nicci, you can save her. You know how to do such things."

"Look, you had better come see her before.»

"You have to do something. You have to."

Nicci hugged her arms around herself. She looked away, her eyes brimming with tears.

"I swear, Richard, I tried everything I knew or could think of. Nothing was of any help. Death already has her spirit and I can no longer reach that far. She is breathing, but barely. Her heart is weak and nearly gone. Her whole body is shutting down as she slips away. I'm not even sure that she is really even still alive in the sense we think of as a person being alive. She is only here by a thread, and that thread will not hold for long."

"But, can't.» He could think of no words to hold back the weight of grief beginning to slide in on him.

"Please, Richard," Nicci whispered, "come see her before she is gone. Say what you would to her while you have the chance. You will forever hate yourself if you don't."

Richard felt numb as Nicci led him into the room. This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't. This was Cara. Cara was like the sun; she couldn't die. She was — she was his friend. She couldn't die.

The feeble glow of two lanterns failed to do much to brighten the murky room. The smaller one sat on a table in the corner, as if cowering in The presence of death itself. The other stood on a bedside table beside a glass of water and a damp cloth, struggling to hold the gathered shadows ill bay. A brocade bedcover with luxuriant gold fringe was draped over Cara, her arms limp atop it, one of its corners hanging down over the side of the bed to puddle on the floor.

Cara didn't look like Cara. She looked cadaverous. Even in the golden light of the lamp, her face looked ashen. Richard didn't see her breathing.

He could hardly draw a breath himself. He could feel his knees trembling. The lump in his throat seemed as if it might choke him. He wanted to fall on her and beg her to wake.

Nicci leaned close, gently touching Cara's face. Her fingers slid down to the side of her neck. Richard noticed that Cara's terrible shuddering had finally ceased. He didn't think that was the good news it might appear to be.

"Is she — is she.»

Nicci looked back over her shoulder. "She's still breathing, but I'm afraid it's coming slower."

Richard worked his tongue, wetting the roof of his mouth so that he could form words. "You know, Cara has a man she cares about."

"She does? Really?"

Richard nodded. "Most people don't think that Mord-Sith can ever really care about anyone, but they can. Cara cares about a soldier. General Meiffert. Benjamin cares for her, too."

"You know him?"

"Yes. He's a good man." Richard stared at the blond braid lying over Cara's shoulder and out over the brocade bedcover. "I haven't seen him in ages. He's with the D'Haran army."

Nicci looked skeptical. "Ami Cara admitted to you that she cares about this man?"

Richard shook his head as he stared at Cara's familiar face. Her beautiful face was now sunken and pale and only looked like a ghost of her former self.

"No. Kahlan told me. The two of them became pretty close over the course of the year they were with the D'Haran army while you had me down here in Altur'Rang."

Nicci looked away and fussed with the covers over Cara. As Richard stepped closer, Nicci moved over to a chair beside the table to be out of his way. He felt as if he were outside of his own body, watching from somewhere above, watching himself go to one knee, watching himself take up Cara's cold hand, watching himself hold it to his cheek.