He spun his finger around in the air. “Now twist the cloth around and around to squeeze the liquid out. When it’s all out, throw the cloth and its contents in the fire.” She looked at him, puzzled. Zedd lifted an eyebrow. “The part left in there is poison. Richard should be awake any time now—then we give him the liquid in the bowl. You keep squeezing. I will check on him.”

Zedd went into the bedroom, bent over Richard, and found him to be deeply unconscious. He turned and saw that Kahlan’s back was to him as she worked at her task. He bent over, placing a middle finger to Richard’s forehead. Richard’s eyes snapped open.

“Dear one,” Zedd called into the other room, “we are in luck. He has just come awake. Bring the bowl.”

Richard blinked. “Zedd? Are you all right? Is everything all right?”

“Yes, yes, everything is fine.”

Kahlan came in holding the bowl carefully, trying not to spill any. Zedd helped Richard sit up so he could drink. When he finished, Zedd helped him to lie back down.

“That will make you sleep, and break the fever. The next time you awake, you will be well, you have my word, so worry no more as you rest.”

“Thank you, Zedd…” Richard was asleep before he could say more.

Zedd left and then returned with a tin plate, insisting that Kahlan take the chair. “The thorn will not be able to stand the root,” he explained. “It will have to leave his body.” He put the plate under Richard’s hand and sat down on the edge of the bed to wait. They both listened to Richard’s deep breathing and the crackling of the fire from the other room—otherwise the house was still. It was Zedd who broke the silence first.

“It is dangerous for a Confessor to travel alone, dear one. Where is your wizard?”

She looked up at him with tired eyes. “My wizard sold his services to a queen.”

Zedd gave a disapproving scowl. “He abandoned his responsibilities to the Confessors? What is his name?”

“Giller.”

“Giller.” He repeated the name with a sour expression, then leaned toward her a bit. “So why did another not come with you?”

She gave him a hard look. “Because they are all dead, at their own hands. Before they died, they all gathered and cast a web to see me safely through the boundary, with the guidance of a night wisp.” Zedd stood at this news. Sadness and concern etched his face as he rubbed his chin. “You knew the wizards?” she asked.

“Yes, yes. I lived in the Midlands a long time.”

“And the great one? You know him also?”

Zedd smiled, rearranged his robes, and seated himself again. “You are persistent, dear one. Yes, I knew the old wizard, once. But even if you could find him, I don’t think he would have anything to do with this business. He would not be inclined to help the Midlands.”

Kahlan leaned forward, taking his hands in hers. Her voice was soft but intense.

“Zedd, there are many people who disapprove of the High Council of the Midlands and its greed. They wish it were not so, but they are just common people who have no say. They only wish to live their lives in peace. Darken Rahl has taken the food that was stored for the coming winter and given it to the army. They waste it, or let it rot, or sell it back to the people they stole it from. Already there is hunger—this winter there will be death. Fire has been outlawed. People are cold.

“Rahl says it is all the great wizard’s fault, for not coming forward to be put on trial as an enemy of the people. He says the wizard has brought this on them, that he is to blame. He doesn’t explain how this could be, but many believe it anyway. Many believe everything Rahl says, even though what they see with their own eyes should be enough to tell them otherwise.

“The wizards were under constant threat, and forbidden by edict from using magic. They knew that sooner or later they would be used against the people. They may have made mistakes’ in the past, and disappointed their teacher, but the most important thing they were taught was to be protectors of the people and in no way to bring them harm. As their most loving act for the people, they gave their lives to stop Darken Rahl. I think their teacher would have been proud.

“But this is not about just the Midlands. The boundary between D’Hara and the Midlands is down, the boundary between the Midlands and Westland is failing, and soon it too will be down. The people of Westland will be taken by the very thing they fear most: magic. Terrible, frightening magic like none they have ever imagined.”

Zedd showed no emotion, offered no objection or opinion, only listened. He continued to allow her to hold his hands.

“All I have said, the great wizard could have an argument for, but the fact that Darken Rahl has put the three boxes of Orden into play is something altogether different. If he succeeds, then on the first day of winter it will be too late for anyone. That includes the wizard. Rahl already searches for him—it is personal vengeance he seeks. Many have died because they could not offer his name. When Rahl opens the correct box, though, he will have unchallenged power over all things living, and then the wizard will be his. He can hide in Westland all he wants—but come the first day of winter, his hiding is over. Darken Rahl will have him.”

There was bitterness in her expression. “Zedd, Darken Rahl has used quads to kill all the other Confessors. I found my sister after they were finished with her. She died in my arms. With all the others dead, that leaves only me. The wizards knew their teacher did not want to help, so they sent me as the last hope. If he is too foolish to see that in helping me, he helps himself, then I must use my power against him, to make him help.”

Zedd raised an eyebrow. “And what is one dried-up old wizard to do against the power of this Darken Rahl?” He was now holding her hands in his.

“He must appoint a Seeker.”

“What!” Zedd jumped to his feet. “Dear one, you don’t know what you are talking about.”

Confused, Kahlan leaned back a little. “What do you mean?”

“Seekers appoint themselves. The wizard just sort of recognizes what has happened, and makes it official.”

“I don’t understand. I thought the wizard picked the person, the right person.”

Zedd sat back down, rubbing his chin. “Well, that’s true in a sense, but backwards. A true Seeker, one who can make a difference, must show himself to be a Seeker. The wizard doesn’t point to someone and say, ‘Here is the Sword of Truth, you will be the Seeker.’ He doesn’t really have a choice in the matter. It isn’t something you can train someone for. One should simply be a Seeker and show himself to be so by his actions. A wizard must watch a person for years to be sure. A Seeker doesn’t have to be the smartest person, but he has to be the right person—he has to have the right qualities within himself. A true Seeker is a rare person.

“The Seeker is a balance point of power. The council made the appointment a political bone to be thrown to one of the sniveling dogs at their feet. It was a sought-after post because of the power a Seeker wields. But the council didn’t understand: it wasn’t the post that brought the power to the person, it was the person that brought the power to the post.”

He edged closer to her. “Kahlan, you were born after the council took this power upon itself, so you may have been a Seeker when you were young, but in those days they were pretend Seekers—you have never seen the real thing.” His eyes got round in the telling, his voice low and full of passion. “I have seen a true Seeker make a king quake in his boots with the asking of a single question: When a real Seeker draws the Sword of Truth…” He held his hands up and rolled his eyes in delight. “Righteous anger can be an extraordinary thing to behold.” Kahlan smiled at his excitement. “It can make the good tremble with joy, and the wicked shiver in fear.” The smile left his face. “But people rarely believe the truth when they see it and less so when they don’t want to, and that makes the position of Seeker a dangerous one. He is an obstacle to those who would subvert power. He draws lightning from many sides. Most often he stands alone, and frequently not long.”