She dithered before saying, "I suspect there must be more to it."

Zedd sighed. "There is a great deal more, but time is running short."

"Mind hitting a few of the high spots for me?"

"Well, all right, then." Zedd took a sip of tea first. "Do you recall D'Hara?"

Her hand with the teacup paused on its way to her lips. "And how could one not recall D'Hara?"

"Yes, well, the thing is, my daughter was Richard's — that's my grandson, Richard — my daughter was Richard's mother. He was fathered through a cruel act of rape."

"I'm so sorry," she said with sincere sympathy. "But what does that have to do with D'Hara?

"The man who fathered him was Darken Rahl, of D'Hara."

Her hands took on a decided tremble. She had not yet managed to get the tea to her mouth. With care, Franca set down her full cup lest she spill her tea before ever tasting it.

"Do you mean to tell me that this grandson of yours is the progeny of two lines of wizards — and is the very same Lord Rahl demanding the surrender of all lands of the Midlands?"

"Ah, well, yes, that would be him."

"And that this grandson of yours, the Lord Rahl himself, is the same one who is going to be wedded to the Mother Confessor herself?"

"It was a lovely ceremony," Zedd said. "Quite lovely. Rather exclusive, it was, but still stylish."

Franca put her forehead in her hand. "Dear spirits, that is a lump to swallow."

"Oh, yes. He's also a war wizard. I forgot — sorry. He was born with both sides of the gift."

Her head came up. "What?"

"You know, both sides. Subtractive Magic, as well as the usual Additive. Both sides."

"I know what 'both sides' means."

"Oh."

Franca swallowed. "Wait just a minute. The chimes… you mean it was the Mother Confessor who called them?"

"Well, she-"

The woman rose in a rush, her chair scraping against the floor. "It's Lord Rahl who — dear spirits, the Mother Confessor herself pledged the soul of Lord Rahl — a war wizard with both sides of the gift — to the chimes?"

"It's not as bad as all that. She had no knowledge of the spell; she didn't do it intentionally. She's a good person and would never deliberately do such a thing."

"Deliberate or not, if the chimes get a hold of him-"

"I've sent them both off to a safe place — to where the chimes can't get to him. We have no need to fear that part of it."

She sighed with relief. "Thank the Creator for that much."

Zedd took another sip. "But that still leaves us without our power, and the world without magic, and possibly on the brink of ruin. Like I said, I need some help."

Franca finally sank back into her chair when Zedd nodded toward her. He smiled and told her the tea was excellent, and that she should have some herself.

"Zedd, I think you need the Creator Himself to come help you. What do you think I can possibly do? I'm just an obscure, middling, unremarkable sorceress in a far-flung land. Why would you come to me?"

Zedd squinted. He pointed. "What are you hiding with that neck band?"

Her fingers' brushed her throat. "A scar. You remember the Blood of the Fold?" Zedd nodded that he did. "Well, most every place has men like that, men who hate magic, men who think those with magic are responsible for every miserable thing that happens in their lives."

"Yes, every place has its zealots."

"Here, zealotry went by the name Serin Rajak. He's the usual type: vicious and vengeful. He's talented at expressing his delusions in a way that whips up the emotions of others and pulls them into his wicked ways."

"So his idea of ridding the world of evil was killing you?"

"Me and those like me."

She briefly pulled down the neck-band to reveal a scar.

"He hanged me by my neck while he and his followers started to build a fire under me. He's rather fond of burning.

Thinks it purges the world of the person's magic-keeps it from lingering after death."

Zedd sighed. "It never ends. So, apparently you convinced him to leave you be."

She smiled. "Cost him an eye, what he did to me."

"Can't say I blame you."

"It was a long time ago."

Zedd sought to change the subject. "I presume you've heard about the war with the Old World?"

"Of course. We've had representatives from the Imperial Order here to discuss the matter with our people."

Zedd sat up straighter. "What? The Order has people here?"

"That's what I'm telling you. Certain people in the government listen closely to what the Imperial Order has to say. I fear the Order is making offers to high officials. And has been doing so for quite some time."

She watched him over the rim of her cup as she took a sip. She seemed to decide to tell him more.

"Some people have been considering sending a secret message to the Mother Confessor, to ask that she come and investigate."

"With the chimes loose, she will be without her power, the same as you and I. Until the chimes are banished, she can be no help with anything like that."

Franca sighed. "Yes, I see what you mean. It would be best if we could see the chimes banished."

"In the meantime, perhaps people here should investigate the matter."

She set down her cup. "Who is going to question the Minister of Culture's office?"

"The Directors," Zedd offered.

She turned her cup around and around on the tabletop. «Maybe» was all she said.

When Zedd didn't say anything, she sought to fill the silence. "In Anderith, you do what you must to get along."

"There are always those who will." Zedd slouched back in his chair. "It will end up being irrelevant anyway. Anderith is going to have to surrender to Richard and the new D'Haran empire he is gathering to resist the invasion of the Imperial Order."

Zedd took another sip. "Did I mention he is also the Seeker of Truth?"

Franca looked up. "No, you neglected to mention it."

"Richard won't allow Anderith to carry on in the manner they seem to be doing-to have corrupt officials colluding with the Order. He and the Mother Confessor will put an end to such dangerous clandestine scheming. That's one of the reasons he's been forced to seize power. He means to consolidate rule under fair and open law."

"Fair law," she mused, as if it were a child's wish. "We are a prosperous land, Zedd. Anders have a good life. If it were the Hakens listening to the Imperial Order, I could understand it, they could be said to have cause, but Anders are the ones listening, and they are the ones already with power."

Zedd contemplated his tea. "Nothing nettles some people more than other people being free. In much the same way that Serin Rajak fellow hates those who have magic, the ruling elite-or those who would be-despise freedom. They find joy only in perpetuating misery."

Zedd sought to take the frost off the chill subject. "So, Franca, do you have a husband, or do the handsome men of the world still have a chance to court you?"

Franca smiled to herself for a time before she spoke. "My heart belongs to someone…."

Zedd reached across the table and patted her hand. "Good for you."

She shook her head as her smile ghosted away. "No. He's married. I can't allow my feelings to be known. I would forever hate myself if I gave him any reason to decide to leave his beautiful bride and take up instead an aging spinster like me. I dare not let him even guess my feelings."

"I'm sorry, Franca," he said in gentle sympathy. "Life- or should I say love-sometimes seems so unfair. At least it may seem so now, but someday…"

Franca dismissed the matter with a gesture-more for herself than for him, he thought. She met his gaze again.

"Zedd, I'm flattered you would come to me-for that matter that you would even remember my name-but why would you think I can help you? You have more power than I. Or at least you did."