Verna heaved a sigh. "You said a mouthful, Berdine."

"This is Lord Rahl's home, even if he never really lived here except as a captive. Even so, he has come to care about us as his people, and his friends. I've spent time with him; I know how much he cares about us and I know that he is aware of how much we all care about him. Maybe he will feel a need to come home.

"If he does, I think I should be here for him. He depends on me to help him with books, with translations-at least, I like to believe he does. He makes me feel important to him, anyway. I don't know, I just think I should remain at the palace in case he comes here. If he does, he will need to know that you are desperately trying to find him. He will need to know of the impending final battle."

"Does your bond tell you where he is?"

Berdine gestured west. "Somewhere in that direction, but very distant."

"The general said the same thing. That can only mean that Richard is at least in the New World again." Verna found reason to smile. "At long last. That much is good to know."

"The closer those with the bond are to him, the better able they will be to help you find him."

Verna considered it a moment. "Well, I will miss your company, Berdine, but I guess you must do as you see fit and I have to admit that what you say does make some sense. The more places we watch for him lo show up, the better our chances of finding him in time."

"I really think it's right for me to stay here. Besides, I want to study some of the books and try to match up some of what Kolo says. There are a few things bothering me. Maybe if I work it out, I can even help Lord Rahl to win that final battle."

Verna nodded with a sad smile. "See me out?"

"Of course."

Both turned to the sound of footsteps. It was another Mord-Sith, in red leather. She was blond, and taller than Berdine. Her piercing blue eyes took Verna in with the kind of measured calculation that betrayed utter, fearless confidence.

"Nyda!" Berdine called.

The woman smiled with one side of her mouth as she came to a hall. She placed a hand on Berdine's shoulder, a gesture that Verna recognized as being as close to wild jubilation as it got among Mord-Sith, except perhaps for Berdine.

Nyda gazed down at Berdine, her eyes drinking her in. "Sister Berdine, it has been a while. D'Hara has been lonely without you. Welcome home."

"It's good to be home and see your face again."

Nyda's gaze slid to Verna. Berdine seemed to remember herself.

"Sister Nyda, this is Verna, the Prelate of the Sisters of the Light. She is a friend and advisor to Lord Rahl."

"He is on his way here?"

"No, unfortunately," Berdine said.

"Are you two sisters, then?" Verna asked.

"No," Berdine said, waving a hand at the notion. "It's more like you calling the other women of your kind 'Sister. Nyda is an old friend."

Nyda glanced around. "Where is Raina?"

Berdine's face went white at the unexpected encounter with the name. Her voice fell to a whisper. "Raina died."

Nyda's face was unreadable. "I didn't know, Berdine. Did she die well, with her Agiel in her hand?"

Berdine swallowed as she stared at the floor. "She died of the plague. She fought it until her final breath — but in the end it took her. She died in Lord Rahl's arms."

Verna thought that she could detect that Nyda's blue eyes were just a little more liquid as she gazed at her sister Mord-Sith.

"I'm so sorry, Berdine."

Berdine looked up. "Lord Rahl wept as she died."

By the silent but astonished look on Nyda's face, Verna could see that it was unheard of for the Lord Rahl to care if a Mord-Sith lived or died. By the look of wonder that surfaced, such reverence for one of them was homage of profound proportions.

"I have heard such tales about this Lord Rahl. They are really true, then?"

Berdine smiled radiantly. "They are true."

"What are you reading that's so absorbing?" Rikka asked as she used a shoulder to push the thick door closed.

Zedd grunted with displeasure before glancing up from the book lying open before him. "Blank pages."

Through the round window to his left, he could see the roofs of the city of Aydindril spread out far below. In the golden light of the setting sun the city looked beautiful, but that appearance was but an illusion. With all the people gone, fleeing for their lives before the hordes of invaders, the city was no more than an empty, lifeless husk, like the shed skin of the cicadas that had recently emerged.

Rikka leaned toward him over the magnificent, polished desk and tilted her head to see better as she peered down at the book. "It's not all blank," she announced. "You can't read something that is blank. You therefore must be reading the writing, not the blank places. You should try to be more accurate in what you say, if not more honest."

Zedd's frown darkened as his gaze rose to meet hers. "Sometimes what isn't said is more meaningful than what is said. Did you ever think about that?"

"Are you asking me to keep quiet?" She set down a large wooden bowl containing his dinner. The steam drifting up carried the aroma of onions, garlic, vegetables and succulent meat. It smelled distractingly delicious.

"No. Demanding it."

Through the round window to his right, Zedd could see the dark walls of the Keep soaring high up overhead. Built into the side of the mountain that overlooked Aydindril, the Wizard's Keep was nearly a mountain itself. Like the city, it too was empty-with the exception of Rikka, Chase, Rachel, and himself. It wouldn't be long, though, before there would be more people in the Keep. At last the Keep would once again have a family living in it. The empty halls would again ring with laughter and love as they once had when countless people called the Keep home.

Rikka contented herself with gazing around at the shelves in the round turret room. They were tilled with jars and jugs in a variety of shapes, and delicately colored glass vessels, some filled with ingredients for spells, and, in one case, polish for the desk, the ornately carved straight-backed oak chair, the low chest beside his chair, and the bookcases. Books in a variety of languages filled most of the space on the shelves. The corner cases with glassed doors held more of the tomes.

Rikka folded her arms as she leaned close and studied some of the gilded spines. "Have you actually read all these books?"

"Of course," Zedd muttered. "Many times."

"It must be boring being a wizard," she said. "You have to do too much reading and thinking. It's easier to get answers by making people bleed."

Zedd harrumphed. "When a person is in agony they may be eager to talk, but they tend to tell you what they think you want to hear, whether it's true or not."

She pulled out a volume and thumbed through it before replacing it on the shelf. "That is why we are trained to question people by using the proper methods. We show them how very much more painful it is for them when they lie to us. If they understand the profoundly terrible consequences of lying, people will tell the truth."

Zedd wasn't really listening to her. He was concentrating on trying to figure out what the fragment of prophecy could mean. Every single possibility he came up with only served to further ruin his appetite. The steaming bowl sat waiting. He realized that she was probably hanging around, waiting for him to comment on dinner. Maybe she was waiting for a compliment.

"So, what's to eat?"

"Stew."

Zedd stretched his neck a bit to glance in the wooden bowl. "Where's the biscuits?"

"No biscuits. Stew."

"I know, stew. I can see that it's stew. What I mean is where are the biscuits to go with the stew?"