Water ran off the underside of Kahlan’s horse as it climbed up onto the island. There were a few poplar trees at the high point in the center and cedars at the water’s edge on the far side of the small hump of dry ground, but mostly it was covered with reed and a smattering of iris. To see what would happen, Richard took the sword from the water before he needed to. The snakes began to come for him. When he left the water, some turned and swam away, some wandered the shoreline, but none followed onto dry land.

In near darkness, Richard laid Zedd and Chase on the ground beneath the poplars. He pulled a tarp from the packs and strung it between the trees to make a small shelter. Everything was wet, but since there was no wind, the makeshift structure kept most of the rain off them. There was no chance of a fire, for now, since all the wood that could be found was thoroughly soaked. At least the night wasn’t cold. Frogs kept up a steady chirping from the wet darkness. Richard placed a pair of fat candles on a piece of wood so they could have some light under their shelter.

Together they checked Zedd. There didn’t seem to be any sign of an injury, but he remained unconscious. Chase’s condition was unchanged, too.

Kahlan stroked Zedd’s forehead. “It is not a good sign for a wizard’s eyes to be closed like this. I don’t know what to do for them.”

Richard shook his head. “Neither do I. We can be glad they don’t have a fever. Maybe there’s a healer in Southaven. I’ll make litters the horses can pull. I think that would be better than having them ride again the way they did today.”

Kahlan retrieved two more blankets to keep their friends warm—then she and Richard sat together by the candles, the water dripping around them. Glowing pairs of yellow eyes waited on the trail, in the blackness back through the trees. As the heart hounds paced, the eyes moved back and forth. Occasionally, Richard and Kahlan heard yelps of frustration. The two of them watched their hunters off across the dark water.

Kahlan stared at the glowing eyes. “I wonder why they didn’t follow us.”

Richard glanced sideways at her. “I think they’re afraid of the snakes.”

Kahlan jumped to her feet, quickly scanning around, her head pushing against the tarp. “Snakes, what snakes? I don’t like snakes,” she said in a rush.

He looked up. “Some kind of big water snakes. They swam off when I put the sword in the water. I don’t think we have to worry—they didn’t come up on the dry ground when we did. I think it’s safe.”

She looked around cautiously as she pulled her cloak tight and then sat down, closer to him this time. “You could have warned me about them,” she said with a frown.

“I didn’t know myself until I saw them, and the hounds were right behind us. I didn’t think we had much choice in the matter, and I didn’t want to scare you.”

She didn’t say anything more. Richard got out a sausage and a loaf of hard bread, their last one. He tore the bread in half and cut pieces off the sausage, handing her a few. They each held a tin cup under the rainwater that dripped off the tarp. They ate in silence, watching all around for any sign of threat, listening to the rhythm of the rain.

“Richard,” she asked at last, “did you see my sister, in the boundary?”

“No. Whatever it was that had you didn’t look like a person to me, and I would bet that the thing I struck down at first didn’t look like my father to you.” She shook her head that it didn’t. “I think,” he said, “they just appear in a form meant to re-create a person you want to see, to beguile you.”

“I think you’re right,” she sighed, taking a bite of sausage. When she finished chewing, she added, “I’m glad. I would hate to think we had to hurt them.”

He nodded his agreement and looked over. Her hair was wet, and some of it was stuck to the side of her face. “There’s something else, though, that I think is odd. When that thing from the boundary, whatever it was, struck out at Chase, it was fast and it hit him square the first time, and before we could do anything it grabbed you with no trouble. Same with Zedd, it got him the first time. But when I went back for them, it tried for me and missed, then it didn’t even try again.”

“I noticed that when it happened,” she said. “It missed you by a good distance. It was as if it didn’t know where you were. It knew right where the three of us were, but it couldn’t seem to find you.”

Richard thought a moment. “Maybe it was the sword.”

Kahlan shrugged. “Whatever it was, I am happy for it.”

He wasn’t at all sure it was the sword. The snakes had been afraid of the sword, and swam away from it. The thing in the boundary had shown no fear—it seemed as if it simply couldn’t find him. There was one other thing that he wondered at. When he had struck down the thing in the boundary that looked like his father, he had felt no pain. Zedd had told him there would be a price to pay for killing with the sword, and that he would feel the pain of what he had done. Maybe there was no pain because the thing was already dead. Maybe it was all in his head, none of it was real. That couldn’t be—it was real enough to strike down his friends. His self-assurance that it wasn’t his father he had cut down began to waver.

They ate the rest of the meal in silence while he thought about what he could do for Zedd and Chase, which was nothing. Zedd had medicines along, but only Zedd know how to use them. Maybe it was magic from the boundary that had struck them down. Zedd had magic along, too, but he was also the only one who knew how to use that.

Richard took out an apple and cut it into wedges, removed the seeds, and gave half to Kahlan. She moved closer and leaned her head on his arm as she ate it.

“Tired?” he asked.

She nodded, then smiled. “And I am sore in places I cannot mention.” She ate another wedge of apple. “Do you know anything about Southaven?”

“I’ve heard other guides mention it when they’ve passed through Hartland. From what they say, it’s a place of thieves and misfit.”

“It doesn’t sound like the kind of place that would have a healer.” Richard didn’t answer. “What will we do, then?”

“I don’t know, but they’ll get better, they’ll be all right.”

“And if not?” she pressed.

He took the apple away from his mouth, and looked at her. “Kahlan, what are you trying to say?”

“I am saying that we have to be prepared to leave them. To go on.”

“We can’t,” he answered firmly. “We need them both. Remember when Zedd gave me the sword? He said he wanted me to get us across the boundary. He said he had a plan. He hasn’t told me what that plan is.” He looked out over the water at the hounds. “We need them,” he repeated.

She picked at the skin of the apple wedge. “What if they were to die tonight? Then what would we do? We would have to go on.”

Richard knew she was looking up at him, but he didn’t look back. He understood her need to stop Rahl. He felt the same hunger, and would let nothing stop them, even if it meant leaving his friends, but it hadn’t reached that point yet. He knew she was only trying to reassure herself that he had the necessary conviction, the required determination. She had given up much to her mission, lost much to Rahl, as he had. She wanted to know he had the ability to go on, at any cost, to lead.

The candles lit her face softly, a small glow in the darkness. Reflections of the flames danced in her eyes. He knew she didn’t like saying these things to him.

“Kahlan, I’m the Seeker, I understand the weight of that responsibility. I will do anything required to stop Darken Rahl. Anything. You can place your faith in that. I will not, however, spend the lives of my friends easily. For now we have enough to worry about. Let’s not invent new things.”

Rain dripped into the water from trees, sending hollow echoes through the darkness. She put her hand on his arm, as if to say she was sorry. He knew she had nothing to be sorry for—she was only trying to face the truth, one possible truth, anyway. He wanted to reassure her.