Both flopped onto their backs, breathing fast, exhausted by the level of fright. Richard thought of the country people who had told him of things from the sky that ate people. He hadn’t believed them. He believed them now.

Something in his pack was poking him in the back, and when he could stand it no longer, he rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. He was drenched in sweat, and it now felt like ice in the cold evening air. Kahlan still lay on her back with her eyes closed, breathing rapidly. A few strands of her hair stuck to her face, but most of it flowed out over the ground.

Sweat covered her, too—around her neck it was tinted red. He felt an overwhelming sense of sadness for her, for the terrors in her life. He wished she didn’t have to face the monsters she seemed to know all too well.

“Kahlan, what was that thing?”

She sat up, taking a deep breath as she looked down at him.

Her hand came up and hooked some of her hair behind her ear—the rest fell forward over her shoulders.

“It was a long-tailed gar.”

Reaching out, she picked up one of the biting flies by its wings. Somehow it must have gotten caught in a fold of his shirt and was smashed when he flopped onto his back.

“This is a blood fly. Gars use them to hunt. The flies flush out the quarry, the gar grabs it. They smear some on themselves, for the flies. We are very lucky.” She held the blood fly right in front of his nose to make her point. “Long-tailed gars are stupid. If it had been a short-tailed gar, we would be dead right now. Shorttail gars are bigger, and a lot smarter.” She paused to make sure she had his full attention. “They count their flies.”

He was frightened, exhausted, confused, and in pain. He wanted this nightmare to end. With a moan of frustration he sagged back down onto his back, not caring anymore about whatever it was that was poking him.

“Kahlan, I’m your friend. After those men attacked us, and you didn’t want to tell me more about what is going on, I didn’t press you.” His eyes were closed. He couldn’t bear the scrutiny of her eyes. “Now someone is after me, too. For all I know, it could be the same person who murdered my father. It’s not just you anymore—I can’t go home either. I think I have a right to know at least some of what’s going on. I’m your friend, not your enemy.

“Once, when I was little, I got a fever and almost died. Zedd found a root that saved me. Until today, that was the only time I’ve ever been close to death. Today I was close three times. What do I…”

Her fingertips touched his lips to silence him.

“You’re right. I will answer your questions. Except about me. For now, I cannot.”

He sat up and looked at her. She was starting to shake with cold. Shrugging the straps of the pack off his shoulders, he pulled a blanket out and wrapped it around her.

“You promised me a fire,” she said as she shivered. “Is it a promise you intend to keep?”

He couldn’t help but to laugh as he got to his feet. “Sure. There’s a wayward pine right over there on the other side of the clearing. Or if you want there are others up the trail a little way.”

She looked up and give him a worried frown.

“Right,” he smiled, “we’ll find another wayward pine up the trail.”

“What is a wayward pine?” she asked.

Richard held back the boughs of the tree. “This is a wayward pine,” he announced. “Friend to any traveler.”

It was dark inside. Kahlan held the boughs aside so he could see by the moonlight to strike steel to flint and start a fire. Clouds scudded across the moon, and they could see their breath in the cold air. Richard had stayed here before on trips to and from Zedd’s, and had made a small fire pit of stones. There was dry wood and to the far side a stack of dry grass he had used for bedding. Since he didn’t have his knife he was thankful he had left a supply of tinder. The fire was quickly started, filling the interior of the tree’s skirt with flickering light.

Richard was not quite able to stand under the branches where they began growing out from the trunk. The branches were bare near the trunk, with needles on the ends, leaving a hollow interior. The lower branches dipped all the way to the ground. The tree was fire-resistant, as long as one was careful. The smoke from the small fire curled up the center, near the trunk. The needles grew so thick that even in a good rain it remained dry inside. Richard had waited out many a rain in a wayward pine. He always enjoyed staying in the small but cozy shelters as he traveled the Hartland.

Now he was especially glad for its concealing shelter. Before their encounter with the long-tailed gar, there had been plants and animals in the forest he had strong respect for, but there had been nothing in the woods he feared.

Kahlan sat herself down cross-legged in front of the fire. She was still shivering and kept the blanket over her head formed into a hood, and held tightly up around her chin.

“I never heard of wayward pines before. I am not used to staying in the woods when I travel, but they look like a wonderful place to sleep.” She looked even more tired than he.

“When was the last time you slept?”

“Two days ago, I think. It has all become a blur.”

Richard was surprised she could keep her eyes open. When they were running from the quad, he had barely been able to keep up with her. It was her fear that pushed her on, he knew.

“Why so long?”

“It would be very unwise,” she said, “to go to sleep in the boundary.” Kahlan watched the fire, spellbound in its warm embrace, the light from it fluttering on her face. She loosened the blanket from around her chin and let it hang so she could put her hands out to warm them closer to the fire.

A chill ran through him when he wondered what was in the boundary, and what would happen if you went to sleep there.

“Hungry?”

She nodded her head.

Richard dug around in his pack, retrieving a pot, and went outside to fill it in a pool of water at a small brook they had passed a short distance back. Sounds of the night filled air so cold it felt as if it might break if he wasn’t careful. Once again he cursed himself for leaving home without his forest cloak, among other things. The memory of what had been waiting for him at his house made him shiver all the more.

Every bug that looped past made him recoil in fear it was a blood fly, and several times he froze in midstep, only to exhale in relief when he saw it was only a snowy tree cricket, or a moth, or a lacewing. Shadows melted and materialized as clouds passed in front of the moon. He didn’t want to, but he looked up anyway. Stars winked off and back on as soft, gauzelike clouds moved silently across the sky. All except one, which did not move.

Cold to the bone, he came back in and put the pot of water on the fire, balancing it on three stones. Richard started to sit across from her, but then changed his mind and sat next to her, telling himself it was because he was so cold. When she heard his teeth chattering, she put half the blanket around his shoulders, letting her half slip from her head down to her shoulders as well. The blanket, heated by her body, felt good around him, and he sat quietly letting the warmth soak in.

“I’ve never seen anything like a gar. The Midlands must be a dreadful place.”

“There are many dangers in the Midlands.” A wistful smile came over her face. “There are also many fantastic and magical things. It is a beautiful, wondrous place. But the gar are not from the Midlands. They are from D’Hara.”

He stared in astonishment. “D’Hara! From across the second boundary?”

D’Hara. Until his brother’s speech today he had never heard the name spoken in anything other than the cautious whispers of older people. Or in a curse. Kahlan continued to watch the fire.