Adie set her apple down and leaned forward, putting her hands on the table. A look of concern softened her face. “Zedd, I was trying to help the boy. I want him to succeed. I lost my foot in the pass—he would have lost his life. If the Seeker loses his life, we all lose ours too. I did not mean him harm.”

Zedd put his apple down and dismissed his anger with a wave of his hand. “I know you meant no harm, Adie. I did not mean to suggest you did.” He took Adie’s hands in his. “It will be all right.”

“I be a fool,” she said bitterly. “He told me he disliked riddles, but I never thought more of it. Zedd, seek him through the night stone? See if he has made it through?”

Zedd nodded. He closed his eyes and let his chin sink to his chest as he took three deep breaths. Then he stopped breathing for a long time. From the air about came the low, soft sound of distant wind, wind on an open plain: lonely, baleful, haunting. The sound of the wind left at last, and the wizard began breathing again. His head came up, and his eyes opened.

“He is in the Midlands. He has made it through the pass.”

Adie gave a nod of relief. “I will give you a bone to carry, so that you may go safely through the pass. Will you go after him now?”

The wizard looked down at the table, away from her white eyes. “No,” he said in a quiet voice. “He will have to handle this, among other things, on his own. As you said, he is the Seeker. I have an important task to attend to, if we are to stop Darken Rahl. I hope he can stay out of trouble in the meantime.”

“Secrets?” the sorceress asked, smiling her little smile.

“Secrets.” The wizard nodded. “I must leave right away.”

She took one hand out from under his and stroked his leathery skin.

“It be dark outside.”

“Dark,” he agreed.

“Why not stay the night? Leave with the light.”

Zedd’s eyes snapped up, looking at her from under his eyebrows. “Stay the night?”

Adie shrugged as she stroked his hands. “It be lonely here sometimes.”

“Well,” Zedd’s impish grin lit his face, “as you say, it is dark outside. And I guess it would make more sense to start out in the morning.” A sudden frown broke out, wrinkling his brow. “This isn’t one of your riddles, is it?”

She shook her head, and his grin came back.

“I have my wizard’s rock along. Could I interest you?”

Adie’s face softened in a shy smile. “I would like that very much.” She watched him as she sat back, taking a bite of her apple.

Zedd arched an eyebrow. “Naked?”

Wind and rain bowed the long grass in broad slow waves as the two of them made their way across the open, flat plain. Trees were few and far between, mostly birch and alder in clusters along streams. Kahlan watched the grass carefully—they were near the Mud People’s territory. Richard followed silently behind, keeping her under his watchful eye, as always.

She didn’t like taking him to the Mud People, but he was right, they had to know where to look for the last box, and there was no one else anywhere near who could point them in the right direction. Autumn was wearing on, and their time was dwindling. Still, the Mud People might not help them, and then the time would be wasted.

Worse, although she knew they probably would not dare to kill a Confessor, even one traveling without the protection of a wizard, she had no idea if they would dare to kill the Seeker. She had never traveled the Midlands before without a wizard. No Confessor did—it was too dangerous. Richard was better protection than Giller, the last wizard assigned her, but Richard was not supposed to be her protection, she was supposed to be his. She couldn’t allow him to put his life at risk for her again. He was more important than she to stopping Rahl. That was what mattered, above all else. She had pledged her life in defense of the Seeker… in defense of Richard. She had never meant anything more ardently in her life. If a time came that called for a choice, it must be she who died.

The path through the grasses came to two poles, one set to each side of the trail. They were wrapped in skins dyed with red stripes. Richard stopped by the poles, looking up at the skulls fixed atop them.

“This meant to warn us away?” he asked as he stroked one of the skins.

“No, they are the skulls of honored ancestors, meant to watch over their lands. Only the most respected are accorded such recognition.”

“That doesn’t sound threatening. Maybe they won’t be so unhappy to see us after all.”

Kahlan turned to him and lifted an eyebrow. “One of the ways you get to be revered by the Mud People is by killing outsiders.” She looked back at the skulls. “But this is not meant as a threat to others. It is simply a tradition of honor among themselves.”

Richard took a deep breath as he withdrew his hand from the pole. “Let’s see if we can get them to help us, so they can go on revering their ancestors, and keeping outsiders away.”

“Remember what I told you,” she warned. “They may not want to help. You have to respect that if it is their decision. These are some of the people I am trying to save. I don’t want you to hurt them.”

“Kahlan, it’s not my desire or intention to hurt them. Don’t worry, they will help us. It’s in their own interest.”

“They may not see it that way,” she pressed. The rain had stopped, replaced by a light, cold mist she felt on her face. She pushed the hood of her cloak back. “Richard, promise me you won’t hurt them.”

He pushed his hood back also, put his hands on his hips, and surprised her with a little smile out of one side of his mouth. “Now I know how it feels.”

“What?” she asked, a tone of suspicion in her voice.

As he looked down at her, his smile grew. “Remember when I had the fever from the snake vine, and I asked you not to hurt Zedd? Now I know how you felt when you couldn’t make that promise.”

Kahlan looked into his gray eyes, thinking of how much she wanted to stop Rahl, and thought of all those she knew whom he had killed.

“And now I know how you must have felt when I could not make that promise.” She smiled in spite of herself. “Did you feel this foolish for asking?”

He nodded. “When I realized what was at stake. And when I realized what kind of person you were, that you wouldn’t do anything to harm anyone unless there was no choice. Then I felt foolish. For not trusting you.”

She did feel foolish for not trusting him. But she knew he trusted her too much.

“I’m sorry,” she said, the smile still on her lips. “I should know you better than that.”

“Do you know how we can get them to help us?”

She had been to the village of the Mud People several times, none of them by invitation—they would never request a Confessor. It was a common chore among Confessors, paying a professional call on the different peoples of the Midlands. They had been polite enough, out of fear, but they had made it clear that they handled their own affairs, and did not want outside involvement. They were not a people who would respond to threats.

“The Mud People hold a gathering, called a council of seers. I have never been allowed to attend, maybe because I am an outsider, maybe because I am a woman. This group divines the answers to questions that affect the village. They will not hold a gathering at sword point—if they are to help us, they must do so willingly. You must win them over.”

He gazed intently into her eyes. “With your help, we can do it. We must.”

She nodded, and turned to the path once more. Clouds hung low and thick above the grassland, seeming to boil slowly as they rolled along in an endless procession. Out on the plains, there seemed to be much more sky than there was anywhere else. It was an overpowering presence, dwarfing the unchanging, flat land.