Wizard's First Rule (16 page)

A fly bit his neck. He swatted it angrily, picked the offender off his neck, and glared at it. “Blood fly. Bags. I thought as much,” he complained.

From the brush nearby, something came toward him in a terrible rush. Wings
and fur and teeth came charging. Hands on his hips, Zedd waited. Just before it was on him, he held up a hand, bringing the short-tailed gar to a lurching halt. It was half again as tall as he, full grown, and twice as fierce as a long-tailed gar. The beast growled and blinked, its great muscles flexing as it fought against the force that kept it from reaching out and grabbing the old man. It was furious that it had not yet killed him.

Zedd reached up and with a crooked finger beckoned it to lean closer. The gar, panting in rage, bent toward him. Zedd jammed his finger hard under its chin.

“What is your name?” he hissed. The beast grunted twice and made a sound from deep in its throat. Zedd gave a nod. “I will remember it. Tell me, do you wish to live, or to die?” The gar struggled to back away, but was unable to. “Good. Then you will do exactly as I say. Somewhere between here and D’Hara, a quad comes this way. Hunt them and kill them. When you have done so, go back to D’Hara, to where you came from. Do these things and I will let you live, but I will remember your name, and if you fail to kill the quad, or ever come back after your task is done, I will kill you and feed you to your flies. Do you agree to my terms?” The gar grunted an acknowledgment. “Good. Then be gone.” Zedd removed his finger from under the gar’s chin.

Scrambling to get away, the beast flapped its wings frantically, beating down the grass as it stumbled along. At last the gar was airborne. Zedd watched it as it circled, searching for the quad. As the hunt moved steadily east, the circles seemed to get smaller until the old man could no longer see the beast. Only then did he continue on to the top of the hill.

Standing next to his cloud rock, Zedd pointed down at it and began turning his bony finger in a circle as if stirring a stew. The massive rock grated against the ground as it tried to revolve with the movement of Zedd’s finger. The rock shuddered, trying to rotate its own weight. Popping and snapping, it fractured, sending hairline cracks shooting across its surface. Its trembling bulk struggled against the force being applied. The granular structure of the stone began to soften. Unable to maintain its state any longer, the texture of the rock liquefied enough to allow its mass to rotate with the movement of the finger above it. Gradually the speed of Zedd’s stirring increased until light erupted from the rotating liquid rock.

The light built in intensity with the speed of Zedd’s hand. As colors and sparkles of light spun, shadows and forms came into the center of the light and vanished as the fog of brightness increased. Light threatened to ignite the air about him. A dull roar, like the sound of wind rushing through a fissure, came forth. The smells of autumn changed to winter clarity, then spring’s new plowed ground, summer’s flowers, and back to autumn again. Clean, pure illumination chased the colors and sparkles away.

The rock abruptly solidified and Zedd stepped atop it, into the light. The brightness faded to a faint glow that swirled like smoke. Before him stood two apparitions, mere shadows of form. Where sharpness should have been, their shapes softened like a dim memory, yet they were still recognizable, and the sight of them brought a quickness to Zedd’s heart.

His mother’s voice came hollow and distant. “What troubles you, son? Why have you called us after so many years?” Her arms stretched out to him.

Zedd’s arms reached out, but could not touch her. “I am troubled by what the Mother Confessor tells me.”

“She speaks the truth.”

He closed his eyes and nodded as his arms lowered with hers. “It’s true, then, all my students, save Giller, are dead.”

“You are the only one left to protect the Mother Confessor.” She drifted closer. “You must appoint the Seeker.”

“The High Council sowed these seeds,” he protested, frowning. “Now you want me to help? They turned my advice away. Let them live and die by their own greed.”

Zedd’s father floated closer. “My son, why were you angry with your students?”

Zedd scowled. “Because they put themselves before their duty to help their people.”

“I see. And how is this different from what you do now?” The echo of his voice hung in the air.

Zedd’s fists tightened. “My help was offered, but turned away.”

“And when has it not been so, that there would be those who were blind, or foolish, or greedy? Would you let them have their way over you so easily? Would you let them so simply prevent you from helping those who would be helped? Your abandonment of the people may have a reason that seems just to you, unlike the actions of your students, but the results are the same. In the end they saw their mistake, and did the right things, the things you taught them. Learn from your students, son.”

“Zeddicus,” his mother said, “would you let Richard die too, and all the other innocents? Appoint the Seeker.”

“He’s too young.”

She shook her head with a gentle smile. “He will not get the chance to grow older.”

“He has not passed my final test.”

“Darken Rahl hunts Richard. The cloud that shadows him was sent by Rahl to track him. The snake vine was put in the jar by Darken Rahl, in the expectation that Richard would search for it, and it would bite him. The snake vine wasn’t meant to kill; Rahl sought to have him put to sleep by the fever until he could come for him.” Her form drifted closer, her voice becoming more loving. “You know in your heart you have been watching him, hoping he would show himself to be the one.”

“To what avail?” Zedd closed his eyes, his chin sinking to his chest. “Darken Rahl has the three boxes of Orden.”

“No,” his father said, “he has only two. He still seeks the third.”

Zedd’s eyes snapped open, his head jerked up. “What! He doesn’t have them all?”

“No,” his mother said, “but he soon will.”

“And the book? Surely he must have the Book of Counted Shadows?”

“No. He searches for it.”

Zedd put a finger to his chin, thinking. “Then there’s a chance,” he whispered.
“What sort of fool would put the boxes of Orden in play before he had all three, and the book?”

His mother’s features sharpened into a look of ice. “A very dangerous one. He travels the underworld.” Zedd stiffened, and his breath caught in his throat. His mother’s eyes seemed to pierce him. “That is how he was able to cross the boundary and recover the first box: by traveling the underworld. That is how he was able to begin the undoing of the boundary: from within the underworld. He commands some in it, more with his every coming. If you choose to help, be warned: do not go through the boundary, or send the Seeker through. Rahl expects it. If you enter, he will have you. The Mother Confessor came through only because he did not expect it. He will not make the same mistake again.”

“But then how am I to get us to the Midlands? I can’t help if I can’t get to the Midlands.” Zedd’s voice was tense with frustration.

“We’re sorry, but we don’t know. We believe there must be a way, but it is not known to us. That is why you must appoint the Seeker. If he is the right one, he will find a way.” Their forms began to shimmer, to fade.

“Wait! I must have the answers to my questions! Please, don’t leave me!”

“We’re sorry, it is not our choice, we are called back behind the veil.”

“Why is Rahl after Richard? Please help me.”

His father’s voice was weak and distant. “We don’t know. You must search for the answers yourself. We have trained you well. You are more talented than we ever were. Use what you were taught and what you feel. We love you, son. Until this is settled, one way or the other, we cannot come to you again. With Orden in play, coming again could tear the veil.”

His mother kissed her hand and held it out to him as he did the same in return, and then they were gone.

Zeddicus Zu’l Zorander, the great and honorable wizard, stood alone on the wizard’s rock his father had given him, and stared out into the night, thinking wizard’s thoughts.

“Nothing is ever easy,” he whispered.

Richard came awake with a start. Warm midday light filled the room, and the wonderful, tangy aroma of spice soup filled his lungs. He was in his room at Zedd’s house. He looked up at the familiar knots in the wood walls, and the faces he always made them into in his mind stared back. The door to the front room stood shut. A chair waited next to the bed, empty. He sat up, pushing the covers down, and saw that he still wore his dirty clothes. He felt for the tooth under his shirt and sighed in relief when he found it still there, safe. A short stick held the window open a few inches, letting in fresh air and the sound of Kahlan’s laughter. Zedd must be telling stories, he thought. Richard looked at his left hand. It was wrapped but no longer sore when he flexed his fingers. His head didn’t hurt anymore, either. In fact, he felt wonderful. Hungry, but wonderful. He amended that to dirty, in filthy clothes, and hungry, but wonderful.

A tub of bathwater, soap, and clean towels sat in the center of the small room. A clean outfit of his forest garb was folded and stacked neatly on the chair. The bathwater looked deliciously inviting. He dipped his hand in and found the water warm. Zedd must have known when he would wake. Knowing Zedd as well as he did, that didn’t surprise him.

Richard undressed and slipped into the welcoming water. The soap smelled almost as good to him as the soup. He liked to stay in the tub for a good long soak, but he felt too wide awake for soaking, and was eager to be outside with the other two. Unwrapping the hand, he was surprised to find how much it had healed overnight.

When he came out, Kahlan and Zedd were sitting at the table waiting for him. Kahlan’s dress was freshly washed, he noticed, and she looked bathed, too. Her hair was clean and glistened in the sunlight. Green eyes sparkled up at him. A big bowl of soup waited for him next to her at the table, along with cheese and fresh bread.

“I wouldn’t have expected to have slept until noon,” he said, swinging his leg over the bench. They both laughed. Richard eyed them suspiciously.

Kahlan straightened her face. “This is the second noon you have slept to, Richard.”

“Yes,” Zedd added, “you slept right through the first. How do you feel? How is your hand?”

“I’m fine. Thank you, Zedd, for helping me. Thank you both.” He opened and
closed his fingers to show them the improvement. “The hand feels much better, except it itches.”

“My mother always said that if it itched, that meant it was getting better.”

Richard grinned at her. “Mine too.” He fished a piece of potato and a mushroom into his spoon and tasted it. “It’s as good as mine,” he said to her earnestly.

She sat crosswise on the bench, facing toward him, her elbow resting on the table with the side of her jaw nestled in the heel of her hand. She gave him a knowing smile. “Zedd tells it differently.”

Richard cast a reproachful eye at Zedd, who looked up at the sky in an exaggerated manner. “Does he now? I will have to remind him of that the next time he is begging me to make it for him.”

“Frankly,” she said in a low voice, but not low enough that Zedd couldn’t hear, “from what I’ve seen, I think he would eat dirt if someone else dished it up for him.”

Richard laughed. “I see you’ve gotten to know him well.”

“I tell you, Richard,” the old man said, pointing a bony finger, not about to let them get the best of him, “she could make dirt taste good. You would do well to take lessons from her.”

Richard broke off a piece of bread and dunked it in the soup. He knew the joking was a release for the tension he sensed, a way to pass the time while they both waited for him to finish. Kahlan had given Richard her word that she would wait for him to ask Zedd’s help; it was apparent that she had kept her word. And Zedd’s way was to play ignorant and innocent, and wait for you to ask something first so he could better judge what you already knew. This day, Richard could not allow any of his games. This day, things were different.

“There is one thing I don’t trust about her, though.” Zedd’s tone was dark, menacing.

Richard froze in mid-chew. He swallowed and waited, not daring to look at either of them, while the other paused.

“She doesn’t like cheese! I don’t think I could ever trust anyone who doesn’t like cheese. It’s not natural.”

Richard relaxed. Zedd was just twiddling with his mind, as he always called it. His old friend seemed to have a knack for catching him off guard, and he delighted in it. Richard stole a glance at Zedd to see him sitting there with an innocent smile on his face. Richard smiled, too, in spite of himself. While he relished the bowl of soup, Zedd nibbled on a piece of cheese to make his point. Kahlan nibbled on a piece of bread to make hers. The bread tasted delicious. Kahlan was pleased when he pointed it out.

As Richard neared the end of his meal he decided it was time to change the tone of things back to business. “The next quad? Has there been any sign?”

“No. I was worried, but Zedd did a cloud reading for me and said it appeared they must have run into trouble of some kind, since they were nowhere to be found.”