Far below lay the verdant valley where lived the witch woman. That it was as beautiful a place as any in the Midlands didn't ease the anxious knot in Kahlan's stomach. All around the valley the massive rocky peaks of the surrounding mountains soared nearly straight up. The budding trees in the placid valley below swayed gently in the early morning breeze.

Descending the sheer walls of rock looked to be impossible, but Kahlan knew from being here before that there were steps carved in the rock. Samuel led her through a morass of brush, tight trees, and fern-covered boulders, to a place that would be nearly impossible to find without him to guide her. A trail hidden behind rocks, trees, ferns, and vines ran to the edge of the precipice and the steps leading down the cliff walls.

Samuel pointed off. down into the valley. "Mistress." "I know. Get moving."

Kahlan followed Samuel down the cliff's edge. Part of it was a narrow trail, but most of the way down was comprised of thousands of steps cut into the rugged rock wall. They twisted and turned downward, sometimes spiraling back under ones above.

Below, far off in the center of the valley, among the streams, grand trees, and rolling fields, sat Shota's graceful palace. Colorful flags flew atop towers and turrets as if to announce a festival. Kahlan could hear the distant flags snapping in the wind. She had trouble seeing it for the splendid place it was. She saw it as the center of the spiderweb. A place where threat lurked. Threat for Richard.

Samuel sprang down the steps ahead, happy to be going back to the protection of his mistress, no doubt thinking about cooking Kahlan in a stew when his mistress was finished with her.

Kahlan hardly noticed the hateful glances from the big yellow eyes. She, too, was lost in a world of loathing.

Shota wanted to harm Richard. Kahlan kept that thought foremost in her mind: it was key. Shota wanted to deny Richard happiness. Shota wanted Richard to suffer.

Kahlan could feel angry power welling up inside her, ready to do her bidding and eliminate the threat against Richard. Kahlan had at last found the way to defeat Shota. Shota had no shield against Subtractive power. It would slice through any magic she threw out.

Kahlan had found the path, the gateway, through the labyrinth of protection layered over her magic, to the core of its power. This side of her magic was protected by precepts that governed its use. Like the Wizards' Keep, protected by shields of all kinds, there was a way to get through. She had found a way to get through the Keep, and she had used her reason to find the justification that traced its way through the maze of rationale forbidding this magic's use. She had tapped its ancient strength, its destructive power. Kahlan felt the power coursing up through her and down her arms. Blue light snarled and snapped around her fists. She was nearly lost in a trance of purpose.

For the first time, Kahlan wasn't afraid of the witch woman. If Shota didn't swear to leave Richard alone, to let him have his own life, Shota was going to be dust before this day was out.

At the bottom of the cliff, Kahlan followed behind Samuel as he bounded along the road among tree-dotted hills and green fields. Snow-capped peaks all around soared up past a scattering of clouds. Blue deepened in the sky as the sun rose over those peaks.

Kahlan felt as if she had enough power blazing within her to level those peaks. Shota had only to say or do the wrong thing-to prove herself a threat to Richard- and she would be no more.

The road led up a gentle rise from which Kahlan could see the spires of the palace through the trees ahead. Samuel glanced back to make sure she was still following, but Kahlan didn't need his direction; she knew that Shota waited in the grove of trees below.

The witch woman was the last person Kahlan ever wanted to see again, but if it was to be, then, this time, she intended it to be on her terms.

Samuel halted and pointed with a long finger. "Mistress." Yellow eyes glowered back at Kahlan. "Mistress wants you."

Kahlan lifted a warning finger to his face. Threads of blue light crackled around the finger.

"If you get in my way, or interfere, you will die."

He glanced from her finger back into her eyes. His bloodless lips drew back as he hissed, and then he skittered off into the trees.

In a cocoon of seething magic, Kahlan advanced down the slope toward the waiting witch woman. The breeze was spring-warm, the day bright and cheerful. Kahlan felt no cheer.

Sheltered among the towering maples, ash, and oak, sat a table covered with a white cloth and set with food and drink. Beyond the table, atop three square white marble platforms, stood a massive throne carved with gold-leaf vines, snakes, and other beasts.

Shota sat regally, one leg crossed casually over the other, her ageless almond eyes watching Kahlan's approach. Shota's arms rested on the chair's high, widely spaced arms, with her hands draped arrogantly over gold gargoyles. The gargoyles nuzzled her hands, as if hoping to be stroked. A rich canopy draped with heavy red brocade and trimmed with gold tassels shaded the throne's occupant from the morning sun, yet her luxuriant auburn hair shimmered as if touched by streamers of sunlight.

Kahlan halted, not far away, under the witch woman's rock-hard, penetrating gaze. The blue lightning screamed for release.

Shota clicked her lacquered fingernails together. A self-satisfied smile spread across her full red lips.

"Well, well, well," Shota said in her velvety voice. "The child assassin arrives at last."

"I am not an assassin," Kahlan said. "Nor am I a child. But I have had enough of your games."

Shota's smile slipped away. She put her hands to the chair's arms and stood. Points of her wispy, low-cut, variegated gray dress lifted in the gentle breeze. Her gaze never left Kahlan as she gracefully descended the three white marble platforms. "You're late." Shota held a hand out to the table. "The tea is getting cold." Kahlan flinched when a bolt of lightning struck from the blue sky, hitting the teapot. Amazingly, it didn't shatter.

Shota glanced down at Kahlan's hands, and then back to her eyes. "There. I believe it's hot, now. Please, won't you have a seat? We will have tea and… conversation."

Knowing Shota had seen the ominous blue light, Kahlan returned the self-assured smile in kind. Shota drew out a chair and sat. She again held out a hand in invitation. "Please, have a seat. I imagine you have things you wish to discuss." Kahlan slid into a chair as Shota poured tea, holding on the white top with her other hand as she did so. Steam rose from the cups. The tea was indeed hot. Shota lifted a gold-trimmed platter, offering Kahlan toast. Kahlan warily pulled a golden-crisp slab from the platter. Shota slid a bowl of honeyed butter across the table. "Well," Shota said. "Isn't this unpleasant." Against her will, Kahlan smiled. "Very."

Shota picked up her silver knife and spread honeyed butter across her slice of toast. She took a sip of tea.

"Eat, child. Murder is always best accomplished on a full stomach." "I have not come to murder you."

Shota's sly smile returned. "No, I suppose you have managed to justify it to yourself. Retribution, is it? Or perhaps self-defense. Punishment? Recompense? Justice?" The smooth smile widened. An eyebrow arched. "Bad manners?" "You sent Nadine to marry Richard."

"Ahh. Jealousy, then." Shota leaned back as she sipped her tea. "A noble motive, were it justified. I hope you realize that jealousy can be a cruel taskmaster."

Kahlan nibbled her crunchy toast. "Richard loves me, and I love him. We're engaged to be married."

"Yes, I know. For one who professes to love him, I would think you would be more understanding." "Understanding?"