Tristan glanced to Kahlan's chest again. "Well. I'm sure that you can understand that I need assurance." His gaze returned to Richard. A sly smile spread on his face. "After all, how can I, in good conscience, surrender my land to a man overseeing what may prove to be the greatest cataclysm in the history of the Midlands? No offense intended. The skies speak the truth to me. I'm sure you can understand my position."

Richard leaned toward the pompous ambassador. "You are rapidly running out of time, ambassador. You had better be prepared to surrender Jara soon, or I will see to it-my way. Now, if you'll excuse us, we're going to get some fresh air. It suddenly stinks in here." Tristan Bashkar's expression darkened.

When his eyes turned toward Kahlan again, Richard yanked the knife from Tristan's belt scabbard before he could so much as blink. Everyone froze. Richard pressed the point to the man's chest.

"And if I ever again catch your lecherous eyes anywhere on Kahlan but her face, I'll cut out your heart."

Richard turned and loosed the knife, burying it in a round oak ball atop a nearby newel. The twang echoed through the marble halls. Without waiting for a response, he took Kahlan by the arm and marched away, his golden cloak billowing out behind. Kahlan's face was red. The two Mord-Sith followed, grinning broadly. Drefan smiled, too, as he followed after. Nadine showed no reaction.

In the distance, a dog barked as Richard led them lip the cobbled alley. He brought his escorts to a halt outside the small yard behind the Anderson family's home. The yard was still cluttered with cutoffs, wood scraps, shavings, stickered lumber, and the two carving benches.

Richard heard neither the sound of wood being worked nor voices. He swung open the gate and made his way through the clutter. The workshop remained silent. A knock produced no response. Richard pushed open one of the double doors and called out. There was no reply.

"Clive!" Richard called again. "Darby! Erling! Is anyone home?" Old chairs and templates still hung from pegs on the dusty walls, and the cobwebs still hung in all the corners. Upstairs, instead of the aroma of meat pies and boiling turnips, like the last time Richard had been to the Anderson home. there was the heavy stench of death.

In one of the chairs he had made sat Clive Anderson. He was dead. In his arms, he was holding the stiff corpse of his wife.

Richard stood stunned at the sight. Behind, he heard Kahlan let out a mournful cry.

Drefan went to the bedrooms. After a brief look. he returned and shook his head. Richard stood staring at the dead husband and wife. He tried to imagine Clive's misery as he sat there, sick with the plague, holding his dead wife in his arms- his dreams and hopes dead in his arms.

Drefan eased a hand under Richard's arm and pulled him away. "Richard, there's nothing to be done. We'd best go and have a dead-cart sent." Kahlan pressed her face against his shoulder as she wept. He saw the stricken look on the faces of Berdine and Raina. He saw their fingers find one another and curl together-a furtive comforting touch. Nadine glanced away from the rest of them. Richard felt sudden sorrow for her: she was alone among them. Thankfully, Drefan rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. The room droned with painful silence.

Richard held Kahlan to him as they went down the stairs. The others followed behind. When they reached the workshop, he took a breath, at last. The stench upstairs had nearly gagged him.

Just then. Erling. the grandfather, walked through the door. He started at seeing the six people standing in his workshop.

"I'm sorry. Erling." Richard said. "We didn't mean to invade your home. We came to check. We came…"

Erling nodded distantly. "My boy's dead. Hattie. too. I had to… go out. I couldn't carry them by myself."

"We'll have a cart sent right away. There are some soldiers on the next street over. I'll send them right away to help you." Erling nodded again. "That would be kind of you." "The. . rest of them? Are they-"

Erling's bloodshot eyes turned up. "My wife, daughter, son, his wife, Darby, and little Lily-all dead." His mouth worked as his eyes watered up. "Beth, she recovered. Got well again, she did. I couldn't care for her. I just now took her to Hattie's sister. So far, their home is still sound."

Richard laid a hand gently on Erling's arm. "I'm so sorry. Dear spirits. I'm so sorry."

Erling nodded. "Thank you." He cleared his throat. "Long as I've lived, you'd think it would be me, not the young'uns. The spirits weren't fair in this. Not fair at all."

"I know," Richard said. "They're at a place of peace now. We all go there, sooner or later. They'll be with you again."

Out in the alley, after they had made sure that Erling didn't need anything, they all paused to gather their wits.

"Raina," Richard said, "please run over to the next street, where we saw those soldiers. Get them over here right now. Tell them to get those bodies out of there for Erling."

"Of course," she said before dashing away. Her dark braid flew behind as she ran.

"I don't know what to do," Richard whispered. "What do you do for someone who has just lost his whole family? Everyone he loved? I felt a fool. I didn't know what to say."

Drefan squeezed Richard's shoulder. "You said the right things, Richard. You did."

"He took comfort in your words, Richard," Nadine said. "That was all you could do."

"All I can do," Richard repeated as he stared off.

Kahlan squeezed his hand. Berdine's hand touched his. He gripped it. The three of them stood linked in shared sorrow.

Richard paced as he waited for Raina to return. The sun was almost down. It would be dark before they got back to the palace. The least he could do was wait until Erling had help getting his dead son and daughter-in-law out of the house.

Kahlan and Berdine stood close together, leaning against the wall beside the Andersons' yard. Drefan, hands clasped behind his back, looking to be lost in thought, strolled a ways back down the alley. Nadine went to the other side of the alley, alone, and leaned against the clapboard wall.

Richard paced as he thought about the Temple of the Winds and the magic stolen by Jagang's order. Richard could think of no way to stop this slaughter. When he thought about Tristan Bashkar's eyes on Kahlan. Richard's blood boiled.

Richard paused. His head came up. Nadine was behind him. He had the oddest sensation.

The hair on the back of his neck stiffened. Richard heard the air whine as he spun.

The world slowed. Sound dragged. He floated as he moved. The air felt as thick as mud. Everyone seemed a statue in his vision. Time was his.

His arm stretched out as he drifted ahead. He commanded the thickness of the air. In the eerie silence, he could hear the feathers singing. He could hear the hiss of blade. Time was his. Nadine's startled blink took forever. He closed his fist.

With a slam of sound, the world crashed back with a wild rush. In his fist, Richard held a bolt from a crossbow. The blade wasn't three inches from Nadine's wide eyes.

A fraction of a second more and it would have killed her. That fraction of a second had been an hour to him.

"Richard." Nadine panted, "how did you catch that arrow? I hope you can understand that it gives me the creeps. Not that I'm complaining." she was quick to add.

Drefan was there, his jaw hanging open. "How did you do that?" he whispered. "I'm a wizard, remember?" Richard said as he turned, looking in the direction from which the arrow had come. He thought he saw movement. Kahlan clutched a trembling Nadine. "Are you all right?" Nadine nodded and let out a belated, frightened cry as Kahlan pulled her to her in a reassuring embrace.