Confessor

by Terry Goodkind

  “Without Richard we are all lost,” she said again, as if hammering the final nail into a coffin.

  Nicci swallowed back the lump in her throat. “Richard wouldn’t ever abandon us.”

  “Maybe not intentionally. But if he goes into this battle alone, having lost love and hope, he may make the kind of decisions that he wouldn’t make if he held in his care the heart of a woman he loved. That love could be the stitch that holds the whole thing together, holds him together.

  “That kind of love can be the single thing, the only thing, that keeps a man from giving up when he has no strength to go on.”

  “That all may be true, but it still does not give you the right to decide his heart.”

  “Nicci, I don’t think—”

  “What are we fighting for, if not the sanctity of life?”

  “I am fighting for the sanctity of life.”

  “Are you? Are you really? Your whole life has been devoted to molding others to what you wanted, not to what they wanted. While it might not be out of a hatred for the good, it certainly has been out of your notion of how others ought to live, and what they should live for. You molded novices into Sisters so that they could serve in the duty you assigned them. You used Sisters to shape young men into wizards who would likewise follow what you believe the Creator wants.

  “Everyone you’ve had control over has been forced to your vision of how they ought to live their lives and what beliefs they must follow. You rarely let people make reasoned choices for themselves. You often didn’t allow them to learn about life; you instead told them what aspects of it mattered and how they would live it. The only partial exception that I know of is Verna, when you sent her away for twenty years.

  “You have been planning Richard’s life for hundreds of years before he was even born. You laid out plans for how he must live out his existence—his only life. You, Annalina Aldurren, based on your own interpretation of what you read into prophecy, decided how Richard would spend his existence in the world of life. Now you are planning his emotions for him. You’ve probably even planned his place in the spirit world.

  “You imprisoned Nathan nearly his whole life, even though he spent centuries helping you to your ends. Even though you came to love him, you condemned him to a life of imprisonment for the crime of what you feared he might possibly do.

  “Ann, what are we fighting for, if it is not the ability to live our own lives? You simply can’t decide what others will do or not do. You can’t set yourself up as the good version of Jagang, the flip side of the same coin.”

  Ann blinked in sincere surprise. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

  “Aren’t you? You’re deciding Richard’s life for him now the same as you did before he was even born. It’s his life. He loves Kahlan. What good is his life to him if he can’t have sovereignty over his own heart, if he must do as you say? Who are you to decide that he must abandon what he wants most and instead love me?

  “How could I be the kind of woman he really could love if I were to manipulate him in the way you want? If I did what you ask I would automatically invalidate any emotions I created in him, make a sham of any such feelings.”

  Ann looked disheartened. “But I don’t want you to love him against your will. I only want what is best for you as well.”

  “I would give anything to be able to use your urging as an excuse to do this, but I would never again respect myself. Richard loves Kahlan. It is not for me to replace that love with anything. It is because I love him that I could never betray his heart.”

  “But I don’t think—”

  “Would you be happy to have Nathan’s love as a prize for a calculated trick? Would that be satisfactory to you? Would that bring you happiness?”

  Ann’s gaze drifted away, tears starting to fill her eyes. “No, it wouldn’t.”

  “Then how can you think that I would be satisfied to seduce Richard at the expense of my self-respect? Love, real love, is something you earn for who you are; it’s not a prize for your performance in bed.”

  Ann’s gaze searched without settling. “But I only…”

  “When I took Richard down to the Old World, when I took him captive, I wanted to force him to accept the Order’s beliefs. But I also wanted to make him love me. To that end I thought to do something very similar to what you are asking me to do now. Richard refused.

  “That’s one of the reasons I so respect him. He was unlike any of the men I’d known who simply wanted me in their bed. I thought I could have him by the same means. He proved that his mind was what ruled him. He wasn’t an animal like others who allowed their passion to rule them. He is a man ruled by reason. That is why he is our leader, not, as you seem to think, because you have pulled the proper strings.

  “Had he given in to me I would never have respected him in the same way I do now. How could I truly love him if he would have proven such weakness of character? Even if I were to agree to your plan, Richard would not. He would remain the same Richard now as he was then. All that would happen is that he would lose his respect for me. In the end the plan would fail. It would fail because, ultimately, you failed to respect him as well.

  “But would you really want it to work? Would you really want a man who is ruled by passion rather than reason to be our leader? Do you want merely to install a puppet of your wishes?”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “Me neither.”

  Ann smiled then, and took Nicci’s arm, starting her down the white marble corridor.

  “I hate to admit it, but I see your point. I guess that I have been guilty of allowing my passion for doing the Creator’s work to get carried away into believing that I alone could decide how that should be accomplished, and how others should live.”

  They walked in silence for a moment, accompanied by flickering light and the soft hiss of the torches.

  “I am sorry, Nicci. In spite of me, you have turned out to be a woman of true character.”

  Nicci stared into the distance. “It seems destined to be a lonely path.”

  “Richard would be wise were he to love you for who you are, just the way you are.”

  Nicci swallowed, unable to bring forth words.

  “I guess that, in all the urgency of everything, I started to forget much the same lesson I’d already learned from Nathan.”

  “Perhaps all this really isn’t your fault,” Nicci allowed. “Perhaps it has more to do with Chainfire, and how much of what we knew is being lost to us.”

  Ann sighed. “I’m not sure I can blame my actions of a lifetime on a spell that has only recently happened.”

  Nicci glanced over at the former prelate. “What lesson from Nathan are you talking about?”

  “He one day convinced me of very much the same things you have just brought back to my attention. In fact, he used much the same reasoning as you have just used. I misjudged Nathan, just as I have misjudged you, Nicci. You have my apology, child, not just for this, but for so much more I have robbed you of.”

  Nicci shook her head. “No, don’t apologize for my life. I made the choices I made. Everyone, to one extent or another, must face life’s trials. There will always be those who try to influence or even dominate us. We cannot allow such things to be an excuse for making the wrong choices. Ultimately, each of us lives our own life and we are responsible for it.”

  Ann nodded. “The mistakes that we spoke of before.” She laid a hand tenderly against Nicci’s back. “But you have made amends for yours, child. You have come to be responsible for yourself. You have done good.”

  “While I’ve come to see the grievous errors in my thinking, and I’ve tried to correct my mistakes, I don’t think that counts as amends, but I promise you, Ann, if Richard needs anything, he will have it from me. That is what a true friend would do.”

  Ann smiled. “I guess you really are his friend, Sister.”

  “Nicci.”

  Ann chuckled. “Nicci, then.”

  They wal
ked in silence past a dozen torches. Nicci was relieved that Ann had finally understood. She supposed that one could never be too old to come to new understandings. She hoped that Ann truly did understand, and that this was not just another strategy, another way to wield her influence over events. Maybe Nathan had actually changed her, as Ann had suggested.

  To Nicci, it felt sincere. It also felt like this had been a conversation with Ann that she had been waiting her whole life to have.

  “Which reminds me,” Ann said, “in regard to Nathan and the terrible thing I had intended for him just before he helped me come to my senses. There is something important I left down in the dungeons.”

  Nicci glanced over at her squat companion. “And what would that be?”

  “I was intending—”

  “Well, well, well,” a voice said.

  Nicci froze in place, looking up just in time to see three women step out of a hallway ahead and to the left.

  Ann stared in confusion. “Sister Armina?”

  Sister Armina wore a haughty smirk. “If it isn’t the dead prelate—once again alive, it would seem.” She lifted an eyebrow. “I believe we can remedy that problem.”

  Ann used her weight to pull Nicci behind her. “Run, child. It’s upon you now to protect him.”

  There was no doubt in Nicci’s mind who Ann meant.

  CHAPTER 20

  Having been in countless deadly confrontations, Nicci knew that running right then would be a fatal mistake. Instead, she fell back on instinct and lifted a hand over Ann’s shoulder, summoning every bit of dark power she possessed. Nicci fully committed herself to visiting unrestrained violence upon the three women down the hall.

  In the same bewildering instant that she felt the failure of that dynamic connection—and nothing happened—she realized that within the People’s Palace her power was, for the most part, useless. The dead weight of dread descended on her.

  From down the corridor lightning ignited. The sudden sound within the confines of the hall was deafening. The blazing light of it arcing through the white passageway nearly blinded her.

  Dark ropes of inky blackness tangled with the flare of lightning, creating a snarling mix that cracked and popped where it touched. Sparks flew. The air burned. So black was the Subtractive element that it seemed like a void in existence. In effect, it was.

  Marble covering the floor, ceiling, and walls ripped open in ragged rifts at the contact. Stone chips shot through the hall, ricocheting everywhere. Marble dust billowed as the air itself convulsed with the violence of the discharge of power. The concussion snuffed the light of several of the closer torches.

  Despite her power being so diminished that the commitment of force failed, in that instant of connecting with her Han, Nicci still had enough use of her gift to feel the familiar shift in her perception of time.

  Her arms and legs felt like lead. The world, within the tunnel of her vision, seemed to slow almost to a stop.

  She could see every bit of stone tumbling as it flew toward her through the smoky passageway. She would have had ample time to have counted them all while suspended in midair. She could see each chip, flake, and speck rotating as it flew. All the while the lightning thrashed wildly, lashing ever so slowly back and forth, leaving a dazzling tracing of afterglow in Nicci’s vision. The lightning blasted through stone wherever it touched.

  At the same time as the world slowed, her mind raced, trying to think of a way to stop what was inexorably coming toward them. But there was nothing within her ability to conjure that could stop Additive and Subtractive Magic laced together in such a violent mix. The power of it cut through stone down to bedrock. The air itself sizzled.

  As the rope of liquid light twisted unchecked across the passageway, Ann dove in front of Nicci. Nicci knew all too well what was coming. She knew the nature of the three women facing them. She knew the sort of lethal power they had invoked.

  With no time to scream a command, Nicci instead stretched out to grab the Prelate and throw her down out of harm’s way. She caught the gray dress. Her fingers started the ever so slow labor of closing.

  It was a race between getting a firm grip and the flickering lightning that seemed to be raging out of control. But Nicci knew that it wasn’t really out of control.

  The crackling discharge of power jumped sideways and slammed squarely into the short woman. The blinding flash ripped right through her, coming out her back. The impact was of such power that it yanked the Prelate from Nicci’s tenuous grasp.

  Ann’s squat body crashed into the wall with enough force to crack the marble slab. Such an impact would certainly have broken nearly every bone in her body.

  Nicci could see, though, that Annalina Aldurren had been dead before she’d hit the wall.

  The lightning abruptly cut off. The clap of thunder left Nicci’s ears ringing. The afterglow burned in her vision.

  Ann, her dead eyes staring, slid to the floor and fell over face-first. A pool of blood grew under her, flooding across the white marble.

  The three women down the hall, like three vultures perched on a dead limb, stood shoulder-to-shoulder, watching Nicci.

  Nicci knew how they had just accomplished what she could not: they had linked their power. She herself, when they had first been captured by Jagang, had linked her ability with Sisters of the Dark. The three of them had acted as one and by that means had just managed to use their power inside the palace.

  What Nicci didn’t know was how they had gotten in.

  She expected that at any second the lightning would again ignite and she would suffer the same fate as Ann. There had been a time when she hadn’t cared one way or the other if she died. Now she cared. She cared greatly. She regretted that she would not have the opportunity to fight back before the end. At least it would be swift.

  Sister Armina smiled a wicked smile. “Nicci, dear. How good to see you again.”

  “Bad company you keep,” said Sister Julia, standing close on Sister Armina’s right.

  A stocky Sister Greta, close on her left, glared.

  All three were Sisters of the Dark. Sister Armina had been free of Jagang, along with Ulicia, Cecilia, and Tovi. On their own those four had ignited Chainfire, captured Kahlan, and put the boxes of Orden in play.

  But Sisters Julia and Greta, whom Nicci also knew well, had long been captives of Jagang. Sister Armina being with the other two made no sense.

  Without having the time to consider the implications of those three being together, Nicci decided that if she was to die, she would at least try to fight. She abruptly flung an arm around in an arc, casting the strongest shield she could summon, knowing how weak it would be but hoping it might hold long enough. She bolted in the opposite direction—back toward the stairs.

  She hadn’t gone three steps when a rope of compacted air whipped around, sweeping her feet out from under her. She smacked the floor hard. Her shield had proven useless against the power of those three linked.

  She was somewhat startled that they had not used the same kind of deadly power that they had on Ann. Not waiting to contemplate why, or for what might follow, Nicci rolled to the left and then scrambled to her feet. She dove through an opening into another hallway. Behind, she could hear the three Sisters running toward her.

  With simple, empty halls made of smooth marble, there was no place to hide. Nicci knew that if she ran they would simply ignite a bolt of power to take her down. She had no real chance to outrun them and escape the reach of their power. But, since they were already running after her, they would probably be expecting her to run, so Nicci instead pressed her back up against the wall just around the corner of the next intersection, on the side closest to the three coming for her.

  She panted, catching her breath, trying to keep as quiet as possible. From where she waited she couldn’t see Ann’s body, but she could see the bright stain of blood running across the white marble floor.

  It was hard to believe that Ann was dead. She had been witn
ess to the rise and fall of kingdoms and the passing of countless generations over a vast march of time. It seemed she had been alive forever. It was numbing to try to imagine a world without Annalina Aldurren.

  Although the Prelate had not been beloved by Nicci, she still felt a pang of grief for her. The woman had finally seemed to come to terms with some of her mistakes. After all this time, after such a long life, she had finally come to have real love in her life.

  As Nicci heard the footsteps rushing close she gathered her wits. This was no time to grieve.

  Nicci was hardly a stranger to violence and death, but she was not at all used to this manner of combat. As Death’s Mistress she had been witness to thousands of deaths, and had killed more people than she could count or recall, but she had never done it with her bare hands. Now, without her power, that was her only option. She tried to think of how Richard would do such a thing.

  As the three Sisters charged around the corner, Nicci used all her strength to ram her elbow into the face of the closest woman. She heard teeth snap. Her heart was pumping so fast she didn’t even feel the blow in her elbow. Sister Julia was knocked sprawling on her back.

  Without pause, even as Sister Julia was still sliding across the floor, Nicci sprang at Sister Armina, grabbing her by the hair. She used the women’s forward momentum to propel her across the hall and slam her head into the wall. Her skull made a sickening thwack against the stone. Nicci hoped to at least knock the woman out, if not kill her. If there was only one Sister left standing she wouldn’t be able to use her power any better than Nicci could.

  But Sister Armina was still very conscious. She screamed curses as she struggled to get free. Nicci pulled her back, while she had the initiative, lifting her by the hair in order to get another swing to bash her face against the wall.

  Before she could accomplish the task, the stout Sister Greta crashed into Nicci’s middle, knocking her to the side, off Sister Armina. The flying weight of the Sister whacked Nicci against the wall with enough force to knock the wind out of her. She blindly clawed at the woman tackling her, trying to get her off.