Into Darkness

by Terry Goodkind

  As the Mord-Sith started up the narrow cobblestone street, closely protecting Kahlan, he held back to reassure himself that there were no more threats lurking around any of the corners. Seeing none, he finally sheathed his sword and, in so doing, extinguished the rage. Once that fury of magic was finally cut off, it left him feeling weak and exhausted from the effort of the fight.

  When the hair on the back of his neck tingled and stiffened, he looked up and saw a single Glee standing in the sun atop a two-story building, looking down, watching him. Somehow he had known that it would be there. The rest of those with him were helping each other and talking among themselves as they made their way up the narrow street. They didn’t see the Glee. He didn’t think that this lone creature wanted anyone but Richard to see it.

  As he stood staring up at it, the Glee opened its arms a little and spread its claws to reveal webbing between its razor-sharp claws. Richard felt that it was a sign—that it was trying to convey the message that it meant no threat.

  And then it bowed at the waist, as if out of respect.

  He spotted, then, in those slow movements as it bowed, something he had never noticed before. There was a slight, iridescent, greenish sheen to this Glee’s skin. It reminded him a little of the iridescent green sheen on the backs of some black beetles. He hadn’t seen this quality to the flesh of any Glee he had fought.

  Even though he hadn’t noticed this slight greenish sheen on this particular Glee before, there was no doubt in his mind that this was the same individual he had seen several times before, when on previous occasions it had also signaled that it intended him no harm.

  When the Glee stood back up, it shared a long look with Richard. From time to time as it stared, its third eyelid blinked across its big, glossy black eyes. It cocked its head a little, possibly as if appraising him. Richard felt a sense of peace with this creature.

  He reminded himself of one of his most basic beliefs, that an individual was not guilty because of the crimes of others. It was something very personal for him, because he had once been hated as the Seeker because of how corrupt people before him had been when they had possessed the sword, its power, and the post. Because of their notorious behavior, it was assumed that all Seekers were evil. He had likewise been condemned as evil because of the sins of his father. He knew that although all the other Glee he had seen and fought had been trying to kill them, this one individual had not, so he had to remember not to judge it by their actions.

  And then it turned to scribbles and in a fleeting moment was gone.

  Richard wished there were a way to talk to that Glee, to find out its intentions and what it wanted.

  Kahlan paused a ways up the narrow street and turned back. “Are you coming?”

  “Sure,” Richard said as he sprinted to catch up with the others.

  “So,” Shale finally said as they moved on up an even narrower alleyway to continue to make their way toward the palace, “tell me how you managed to get your sword out of the scabbard when it had been welded in there by Iron Jack’s magic.”

  “Wizard’s First Rule,” he said.

  Shale paused to turn back and give him a squinty-eyed look. “What?”

  “I was always able to get the sword out,” Richard said.

  Shale flopped her arms against her side in frustration. “Well, if that were really true, then why couldn’t you get it out before? You had Vika and Cassia hold the scabbard while you pulled on the handle. You couldn’t get it out then.”

  “Actually, I could,” Richard told her.

  Shale clawed her fingers as she growled in exasperation. “No, you couldn’t. I saw it. It was welded in by Iron Jack’s magic and the three of you couldn’t pull it apart. What’s more, when I felt the scabbard, I could feel the magic bound into it holding it together.”

  Richard shrugged. “I could feel the magic, too.”

  Shale held her head with both hands as she growled again. “And you couldn’t draw it! Why could you draw it now, but not back then?”

  Richard finally showed her a smile. “Shale, I could have drawn it whenever I wanted. I asked for your help and you said you couldn’t do it. As you said yourself, I’m a war wizard. But I wanted Iron Jack to think he had bested me.”

  The witch woman leaned toward him a little. “What?”

  “I felt Iron Jack’s magic tingling around the hilt. It was only Additive. There was no Subtractive element to it. So, I only pretended I couldn’t get it out of the scabbard because I knew he would be able to sense if his spell was broken. For that reason, I was careful not to. I wanted him to think instead that I had tried and failed, so I was defenseless. I wanted him to believe that so he would feel emboldened. I wanted him to think he had everything under control so that he would lose his sense of caution and act true to his nature.”

  Shale straightened her back and stared at him for a moment. “You mean you were concerned that if he feared you, he might put on an innocent and friendly act?”

  Richard smiled again. “Now you’re getting the idea. I felt no need to show off and pull the sword when he thought his magic had locked it in the scabbard. I wanted to see what he would do when he thought he was in complete control.”

  Shale turned to Kahlan. “Your husband is a very devious man.”

  Kahlan nodded. “Annoying, isn’t it?”

  19

  Richard didn’t see anyone near the entrance to the palace. No guards, no supplicants, no staff. There was no insurmountable wall or any other method to keep people out as was typical around places of power.

  Now that it was daytime there were lots of people hurrying about their business back in the narrow streets of the town. None of them came near the palace—not even close. It was obvious that no wall was needed.

  If he was right, and he was almost positive that he was, they had good reason to give the place a wide berth, which would obviate the need for a wall, or guards.

  While the palace was not massive in the sense that other castles or palaces he’d seen covered a lot of ground, it was nonetheless still sizable. Rather than being imposing by its girth, it was instead gracefully tall, taller than most palaces he’d seen. There was only one palace he could recall that soared to such heights with similar splendor. That palace didn’t need high walls or guards, either.

  He shared a look with Kahlan, and he could see in her green eyes that she was thinking the same thing he was.

  As he looked up the soaring white stone wall, he could see in the places where it stepped back as the palace went ever higher that there were ravens perched on the edges of various levels, cocking their heads to look down at them.

  Thirteen steps in gray marble with white swirls through it stretched out quite some distance to either side. At the head of those steps there was no grand entablature decorating the entrance; there were no intricate, ornamental moldings. Instead, atop the landing was an elaborate door set back into the white stone. The massive door looked to be made of bronze. The entire surface was covered in rows of orderly, embossed writing, designs, and symbols. Each row was unique.

  When he led the others up the steps for a closer look, he saw that he recognized some of the lines of symbols on the massive door. They were in the language of Creation. He ran his fingers over the raised designs as he mentally deciphered their meaning. They were general warnings to stay away, but there were also some critically clear specifics.

  With his fingers still on the symbols, he looked back over his shoulder at Kahlan. “This says that none may enter without first being commanded to appear.”

  Kahlan stepped up the final step to stand beside him to study the door. She gestured to one of the lines of the writing.

  “It says the same thing there.”

  “Do you recognize any of the other writing?” he asked.

  She scanned the door, then used her fingers to touch some of the lines of symbols to keep her place as she examined the strange designs. She finally gave Richard a grim look.

&n
bsp; “At least a dozen of the languages here on this door are those used in the Midlands. That makes sense, given the location of Bindamoon right in the middle of the line of the mountains that divide the Midlands from D’Hara. And, as Shale said, even people from the Northern Waste came here. It would seem that many different people came here for the rare herbs they grow in those fields. It would make sense for there to be a lot of languages represented, so that anyone who came up here could read the warnings.

  “I speak most of these languages. Each message is a warning that says the same thing as you read, that none may enter without first being commanded to appear.”

  Richard glanced back at the others. “I guess it’s pretty clear by everything that’s happened that we have been commanded to appear.”

  “With all those languages being clear warnings,” Shale said, “do you think it wise to go in there?”

  “Wise or not, this is the heart of the threat. We’re going in and I’m putting a stop to it.”

  No one looked like they had any intention of arguing.

  Richard turned a lever, then drew back a bolt. It made a dull clang when it reached the end of its travel. He put both hands against the tall brass door and pushed. He pushed, then pushed harder to get it to start to move. With a great deal of effort, and several Mord-Sith coming to help, the heavy door silently swung inward until the opening was wide enough for them to slip through and enter.

  The hushed interior was not nearly as bright as it was outside, but there were a number of high windows that at least let some light stream down from above. Hundreds of candles in ornate metal stands all around the interior lent the place a mellow glow.

  Their footsteps echoed softly back from the distance. If the outside of the palace was rather simple and plain, the inside was the complete opposite.

  On each side there were a half-dozen steps up to raised vestibules. Above them were convex entablatures decorated with complex moldings. The massive stone structures were held up by rows of fluted stone columns that enclosed each of the areas. The capitals atop those columns were intricate, curling acanthus leaves carved from a pale greenish-gray stone Richard had never seen before.

  Between the entablatures were enormous arches leading deeper into the side wings. Each end of those massive arches was held up with four fluted stone columns composing a single support structure. The bases of those arches were so sizable that they had small, internal arches on all four sides of their bases, each held by a stone column, all of them together holding up the more massive main arch. The whole thing was so complex it sent the eye dancing over the elaborate, involved, and interconnected shapes.

  The windows beyond those arches were made up of what had to be hundreds of small pieces of beveled glass in a gridwork of stone mullions. That beveled glass sent prisms of colors scattering all across the walls and columns. Beneath and beyond those windows, Richard could see ornate side chambers, lit by countless candles.

  In the center of the room, the arches before those antechambers formed a perimeter to support a central dome. Massive square support structures, with square, fluted pilasters, anchored each of the primary arched sections. Inside the top of the dome, small windows all around let in light from exterior rooms above and around the interior dome. All of the stone of the entire place was various shades of greenish-gray, giving the place a uniform, muted theme.

  In the center of the massive room, beneath the dome, was a floor with cream and gray stone making up large squares that marched all the way around a central design of a wreath made out of gold-colored stone set against a background of white. In the center of the wreath were more concentric designs that stepped down in size. The floors to the sides, going off into the antechambers, were gridwork designs made of the same cream and gray stone.

  In between the fluted columns and the fluted pilasters there were recesses with life-size statues in the same greenish-gray stone. Some were of people, but most were of strange, contorted figures that didn’t look quite human—or possibly were people in great pain. All the figures were clothed in flowing robes carved out of the same stone. The carved robes were so realistic that it made it look like there was a brisk breeze blowing through the place.

  Richard had seen a number of magnificent places since leaving his home of Hartland. This was up near the top in the sheer splendor of the complex yet graceful architecture. He had never seen cold stone looking so warm in its intricate stateliness. The whole place made him feel small and inadequate. He supposed that was really the purpose and the point of it all. Those who entered should be humbled before the master of this domain.

  Richard and those with him, all standing in a close cluster, stared around at the ornate stonework of the arches and the dome. It was achingly beautiful, but at the same time it was a clear statement that they were in the place of powers not to be trifled with.

  In the center of the circular design in the floor, under the dome, the mountain lion sat on its haunches, watching them, its tail slowly sweeping back and forth across the floor.

  When the mountain lion was sure that they had all looked around enough, it stood. As they all watched, it turned and started walking away, deeper into the palace, clearly expecting them to follow.

  20

  Richard watched as the mountain lion casually walked off into the distance. “We’re supposed to follow it.”

  “Why do you think that?” Berdine asked.

  He gave her a look. “Because it was sent to fetch us.”

  Berdine’s nose wrinkled up. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I’ve seen it before at another important moment, and I don’t believe it was a coincidence.”

  Vika turned a troubled look toward Richard. “So then you think it’s the same mountain lion we saw up on the mountain when we found the mother’s breath?”

  “Of course it’s the same one. When we found the mother’s breath, it left to tell its master.”

  “And so you think its master lives here?” Berdine asked.

  Richard gave her the same look again, as if to say it was a silly question. “Why else would a mountain lion be walking around inside this palace?”

  “Oh,” she said, “I guess I see your point.”

  “Odd choice for a house pet,” Shale said.

  “It wouldn’t be the strangest one I’ve seen,” Richard muttered under his breath as he started out after the mountain lion. “Come on. We don’t want to lose sight of it.”

  Shale leaned in. “But—”

  “Hurry,” Kahlan said as she put a hand to the small of Shale’s back to get her moving.

  The mountain lion led them across the broad, circular design in the floor under the towering dome. The animal stopped before a vestibule of sorts in the distance. Curved staircases on either side surrounded it on the way to an upper level with rooms beyond and to either side.

  The mountain lion looked back for a moment to be sure they were following, then ambled onward. That vestibule, with more of the greenish-gray columns to either side, stood before a broad passageway that wasn’t as wide as the antechambers off to the sides of the domed area had been. This seemed to Richard more like it was an entrance into a central hall of some sort leading on into the interior. The significance of the central hall was evident from its elaborate architecture.

  The same fluted columns of greenish-gray stone lined the long room. A great many ornate metal candlestands held what had to be hundreds of candles that not only lit the way ahead with soft light but lent a pleasant scent to the place.

  To the sides, between pairs of fluted columns, inside stone frames, there were large square panels of incredibly beautiful red marble with swirls of green, gold, and black veins running through them. Each one of those massive red granite slabs seemed to glow in the soft candlelight.

  It occurred to Richard that the swirly red marble panels reminded him of a floor covered with blood that had been cut out and then hung up for display. He paid closer attention to the red slab
s as he passed by them, scrutinizing them to make sure they weren’t actually patterns of blood. Even though he stared closely at each one, he still wasn’t sure.

  Farther down into the dark end of the magnificent but somber passageway, the pairs of columns were set closer together. Rather than the red marble that was displayed between the previous columns, between each of these there were faces, again carved in the greenish-gray stone. They were similar to the statues Richard had seen before, except these were only life-size busts. Each one leaned out, making it seem they were trying desperately to come right out of the wall.

  All of the grim faces stretching out from either side were distorted in agony, or longing, or terror. Some of them reminded Richard of the carvings of tortured souls he had seen in the Old World. Like those statues he had seen there, he had seen the real thing in the underworld.

  Other faces looked like they might be human, but if they were meant to be human, they were ghastly examples of torment and torture. The others, the ones that weren’t human, Richard couldn’t even guess at, but they, too, had horrified expressions, with mouths opened wide as if they had been frozen in mid-scream. The farther they went into the ever-darkening passageway, the more grotesque and distorted the faces became, with flesh carved to look like it was torn open so that the bones and teeth beneath the ripped cheeks were visible.

  The wide hallway was enough to sap the courage of anyone who got this far, but it didn’t dim his determination. If anything, it reinforced his resolve to stop the person responsible for depictions of such horrors, but more importantly those responsible for what they were doing to Kahlan.

  Shale looked from one side to the other, staring for a moment at each one of the faces looking like they were trying to push themselves out of the walls to escape.

  “Why would anyone carve such awful things?”

  Richard glanced back at her. “Well, I like to look at beauty, but there are people who choose instead to look at ugliness. That alone tells you a lot about them, don’t you think?”