Vika suddenly cried out and pointed. “There!”
Richard and the others turned and raced across the uneven rock and past several stone posts to catch up with her. As she held up the light sphere, it revealed Michec slumped in shadows of a dark corner like a spider waiting for prey. His robes were soaked in blood from the waist down, but he looked as merciless and menacing as ever. He sat up straighter but didn’t try to stand under the low ceiling.
Vika, with a cry of rage, ran in and heaved her light sphere at him as hard as she could. Michec thrust out a hand. The glass sphere shattered explosively in a thousand sparkling shards.
He snarled a curse and flicked a hand toward the Mord-Sith. Vika screamed as a blast exploded the crushed rock she was on. The discharge of his power threw her flying back through the air. Rock flew in every direction.
Most of them had to stoop or duck under beams so as not to hit their heads as they ran toward the corner. As they got closer, Michec lifted his arms out to the sides, his fingers pointing up, and bursts of fire erupted from the floor in front of them. The heat drove some of them back as they shielded their faces with an arm, not just from the flames but also from the flying rocks.
Richard didn’t slow. As he ran toward the corner, he dodged around every shower of fire the witch man ignited in his way. The others darted around the roaring columns of flame, trying to keep up with him. Kahlan, not far away, kept pace with him as she, too, wove her way through the sudden explosions of fire. The roaring flames lit the square posts in orange-yellow light. There seemed to be fire flaring up all around. Richard ducked first one way and then another, snaking between posts and fire as he raced for the corner.
Michec suddenly cast his hands out with great force. The rock of the floor blasted up at Kahlan, throwing her through the air to land on her back. Richard’s heart felt as if it jumped into his throat at seeing her skid along the jagged stony surface. He saw several of the Mord-Sith thrown back with her in the same explosion of rock.
Richard kept the stone posts and fire between himself and the witch man as best he could to conceal himself as he rapidly closed the distance. When Michec suddenly turned and caught sight of him leaping through a fount of fire, he swung his hands around toward Richard. But it was too late. He was already there.
Richard dove in atop the man, seizing him by the throat.
Gritting his teeth in fury, Richard squeezed with all his might. As he did, the witch man swept both arms up. As Michec lifted his clawed hands, dark, rootlike branches sprouted from the stone walls on each side of the corner. Bony black tendrils grew like skeletal arms from the walls with frightening speed. The fingers of woody vine lengthened to grab Richard’s wrists, pulling with powerful, conjured strength.
Mord-Sith dove in on each side. Nyda grabbed one of Michec’s arms. Vale fell on top of the arm beside Nyda, helping her push it downward. Berdine fell across his legs to help hold him down. Rikka and Cassia, covered in stone dust, suddenly appeared and dropped onto his other arm, pinning it down so he couldn’t lift it higher, but it was already too late. The rootlike tendrils wouldn’t let go of Richard’s wrists, and in fact grew thicker and pulled with more power. He fought against them, trying to put pressure on Michec’s throat.
Vika reached in beside Richard with a knife to cut the witch man’s throat above Richard’s struggling grip. Before she could get the blade on his throat, a sudden, deafening blast threw her through the air again, this time even farther. She landed quite a distance back. Richard heard her grunt as the air was driven from her lungs when she slammed into a stone post.
Shale, not far behind Richard, lifted her hands, her fingers slowly waggling. When she did, as her eyes slowly rolled up in her head, more of the woody vines sprouted from the stone walls above the ones Michec had conjured, coiling around the ones holding Richard’s wrists. Fingerlike branches grew out of the ends of the arms she created and grasped the thick, dark roots that continued to curl around Richard’s arms.
Shale, her eyes half closed, worked her fingers. As she did, the rootlike arms she had summoned struggled to pull back on the dark tendrils that had a firm grip on Richard’s wrists and forearms, preventing him from crushing Michec’s windpipe. Despite Shale’s efforts, the vines the witch man had conjured wouldn’t let go. Richard’s hands shook from the strain of trying to strangle the man against the power trying to pull them back. Yet more vines sprouted from the walls to either side. They were dark in color, like the first ones, so Richard knew that they, too, were the work of the witch man.
In his mind’s eye, he remembered the sight of Kahlan hanging by the shackles, her beautiful face bruised and swollen from a beating Michec had given her. He remembered the witch man telling him how after he was finished skinning her, he would let the Glee rip the two babies from her womb while she was still alive.
Those horrific memories fueled his fury as his hands shook with the monumental effort to overcome the woody vines trying to drag his wrists back. Richard screamed with rage as he struggled to choke the life out of the witch man. The tendrils holding him started to crack and come apart. Even as he tried with all his might, and even as he was able to start to break the hold on him, he knew it wasn’t going to be enough.
All of those around Richard struggled along with him. He could see the sweat and effort on the faces of each one of the Mord-Sith trying to hold Michec’s arms to prevent him from lifting them to call forth even more horrors. When Nyda managed to pull her knife, it suddenly flew from her hand and clattered against a post.
With a cry of effort born of rage, and determined to end it, Richard managed to press in harder on Michec’s throat. He could feel his thumbs starting to compress the man’s straining muscles.
“Wait!” the witch man cried out. “Lord Rahl—wait. Listen.”
Richard didn’t answer. He didn’t care what Michec had to say. His actions and life had already revealed the truth about the nature of the man. Richard simply wanted him dead.
“I can see now that I was wrong. You really are rightly the Lord Rahl. I can see that now.”
Richard struggled all the harder.
“Lord Rahl! I was only following orders!”
Richard didn’t dare to waste any strength to ask the man whose orders he was following. To each side, the Mord-Sith grunted with the effort of holding the man’s powerful arms. He was so strong that he lifted all four a few inches off the floor.
“I will swear loyalty to you!” the witch man cried out. “I will swear loyalty to your empire! Let me go so I may serve you!”
Richard wanted to tell him that he could serve him best by dying, but he didn’t dare spare any effort to speak. Try as he might, with the conjured hands holding his wrists back, he couldn’t close his grip enough on the man’s throat to crush his windpipe and kill him.
“Let me live and I will serve you just as I served your father. I will protect and serve your wishes! Just let me go and my life will be yours to command. I can be useful to you! Please, Lord Rahl, allow me to serve you!”
In answer, teeth clenched tightly, Richard tried all the harder to crush Michec’s windpipe. He could see the Mord-Sith to each side losing their grip as the witch man managed to start to lift his arms and turn his hands up.
25
Richard’s muscles burned with exhaustion as he fought against the vines trying to pull his arms away. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold on much longer. The Mord-Sith to each side were having even worse problems. The danger to all of them increased with the strain of pulling every breath.
Richard should have been able to strangle the man by now. It was obvious that the witch man’s powers were somehow energizing him with desperate strength beyond that of a normal man so that he was able to overcome all of their efforts. It was clear that they were all now locked in a struggle to the death.
“Forgive me!” Michec cried out. “I was only following orders!”
Richard glared into Michec’s dark eyes as he
struggled with all his might to strangle him. His hands shook with the effort. His muscles burned.
Richard didn’t want to give the man the satisfaction of asking whose orders, but the witch man told him anyway.
“I was only following the queen’s orders!”
Richard didn’t know what queen the man could be talking about, but he didn’t believe him. Michec would say anything to escape. Richard wondered if maybe he was talking about the Golden Goddess, but she was described as a goddess, not a queen.
Kahlan appeared to the right of Richard, covered with dust from the rock the witch man had blasted up at her, trying to kill her. Blood streamed down her face from several wounds.
A strange look of bemused calm came over the witch man’s swollen, red face. “If you think this witch’s oath begins and ends with me, you are a fool.”
That time, Richard couldn’t resist asking, “What are you talking about?”
“Ask your witch,” he said with a sneer.
Kahlan suddenly dropped in beside Richard, using her full weight to drive her blade between two of Michec’s ribs and into his heart. She let out of cry of rage as she pivoted the handle of her knife from side to side, slicing through his heart.
Michec’s eyes went wide.
Kahlan, gritting her teeth, keeping her knife pressed hilt-deep in his chest, put her face in close to his, looking into his startled eyes.
“Think to harm my babies, do you?” she growled. “I deliver you now into the hands of the Keeper of the underworld. He will take you into darkness you can’t begin to imagine. You will never see the light of Creation again. All those innocent souls you tortured to death will now torment you for all eternity.”
Michec’s mouth worked, trying to beg for mercy, to explain, but no words came forth. The panic and terror in his eyes was clear. He had never had a shred of mercy for the panic and terror of his victims, and now Richard, Kahlan and the others with them had none for him.
Vika, covered in stone dust and with a gash across her forehead that had her face covered in a mask of blood, knelt to Richard’s left. Without pause, she rammed her knife into the side of Michec’s neck. Blood oozed rather than spurted out from the artery she severed. His heart could no longer pump blood.
The surprise in Michec’s eyes slowly faded as the life went out of them until his stare was blank and empty. The bony hands holding Richard’s wrists released their grip on him as they crumbled into dust and vapor.
Shale, her eyes still closed, dropped to her knees, clearly drained from the effort of trying to pull back on the vines that had so powerfully held Richard’s wrists. Exhausted, she put a hand down on the rock for support.
Finally, Richard sat back on his heels, letting his cramping hands drop to his lap. He looked around to see everyone panting along with him from the effort. Despite being battered, and some of them bleeding, none of them seemed seriously hurt.
He finally circled an arm around Kahlan’s neck and pulled her close. He brushed hair back from her face and kissed her forehead, then hugged her tight, grateful that she was alive and not seriously hurt. She took her bloody hand from her knife in Michec’s chest and with both arms hugged him back, silently thankful to be alive and have the ordeal over.
At last, after a brief time to hold Kahlan tight, get his breath back, and be thankful that she was safe, Richard finally struggled to his feet. He helped Kahlan stand. All of the Mord-Sith untangled themselves from their grips on the dead man’s arms and legs.
“You did it, Lord Rahl,” Berdine said as she gazed hatefully down at the dead witch man. “You killed the butcher.”
Richard shook his head. “No, we all did. It took all nine of us. The Law of Nines had more power than even a witch man.”
The Mord-Sith looked pleased that he included them. Shale, with a hand on her knee to help her stand, managed to show a weary smile along with them.
They all backed away a short distance to stare at the dead man, all of them still having some difficulty believing the monster was finally dead. It had been a monumental struggle, but the witch man would no longer bring terror and pain to anyone.
Spotting something he didn’t like, Richard gestured to the bloody body slumped in the corner as he looked over at Shale.
“Burn him to ash, would you please?”
Shale looked a little surprised by the request. “Why? He’s dead. What do you think he can do, now?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t want to find out. You’re good at conjuring fire. Do that now. End it. Burn him to ash.”
Shale turned an uneasy look from Richard, to Michec, and back. She suddenly seemed both distressed and apologetic.
She shook her head. “Lord Rahl, I am a witch woman. I can’t burn another witch. Never. That act has terrible significance.”
Richard felt his anger heating. It made no sense to him.
“Even a man as evil as this?”
She couldn’t seem to look him in the eye, so she stared off at the dead Michec. “I know that he was a monster, but he is also a witch. I wanted him dead just as much as the rest of you, and I helped with that to the best of my ability, but I can’t burn a witch, not even a dead one. I just can’t.”
Richard was surprised, but it was obviously something profoundly personal to her. He wondered why, but rather than asking her he deemed it best not to force the issue.
He laid the palm of his left hand over the hilt of his sword. When he did, he was surprised to feel the magic from the sword stirring, trying to join with him. He surmised it could be that the sword’s magic sensed his lingering rage at this evil man and all the horrific acts he had committed.
And then, as Richard looked over at the dead man staring back at him with dead eyes, he saw it again, a glint of something, some spark of light in those dead eyes that shouldn’t have been there.
In that instant, he envisioned the horrors starting all over again. He saw everything they had just won suddenly slipping away from them. He saw that threat to Kahlan and their children reawakening, as if Michec were somehow trying to strike out at them one last time from the world of the dead before he would sink away into its eternal darkness.
From somewhere deep within him, without Richard consciously summoning it, the primal rage of his birthright awakened. With his left hand still on the hilt of the sword, drawing on all the ancient power of the weapon, he cast his other hand out, opening his fist, instantly igniting wizard’s fire. The rotating bluish-white ball of flame shook the room with a reverberating boom as it exploded into existence. Seemingly at the same instant it came into being, it shot across the room, wailing with a piercing shriek as it lit the stone posts and all the stunned faces on its way to the source of Richard’s ire. The sound of it was deafening as it hurtled the short distance to that target and burst apart on impact, splashing sticky fire over the body of the witch man.
Wizard’s fire burned with a fierce intensity and purpose unlike any other fire. The roaring flames burned white hot at their center.
Shale wrinkled her nose at the stench of burning flesh. The Mord-Sith didn’t.
In mere moments, the soft tissue was consumed in the ferocious blaze. Once the soft tissue had burned away, the wizard’s fire continued to sink inward until it covered the bones, engulfing them in the savage flames until they, too, began to break apart and finally turn to ash and collapse into a brightly glowing heap. Only then did the fire, its work done, finally extinguish.
Everyone stood in stunned silence at what they had just witnessed. The heat from the wizard’s fire had even partly melted the stone wall behind where Michec had been slumped.
“I didn’t know you could do that,” Kahlan said in a soft voice as she stared at the aftermath.
Richard felt a bit stunned himself. “Neither did I.”
Shale looked shaken by what she had just seen. “I’ve heard whispered stories of such a thing. I never imagined I would live to see it with my own eyes.”
Richard stared a
t the pile of ash that was all that remained of a henchman for Darken Rahl, a witch man who had been determined to kill them all, glad it was finally over.
The sorceress turned to him with a grave expression. “How did you do it?”
Richard slowly shook his head as he stared at the still-glowing pile of ash and asked her a question instead. “Did you see that glint of light in his eyes?”
Shale was taken aback. “No.”
“I have no idea how I did it,” he finally told her. “When I saw a spark of light in his dead eyes, I simply acted.”
He knew that such an ability would be more than useful against the Glee, but it had all happened in an instant. He had absolutely no idea how he had brought it about.
After a moment of silence, Kahlan circled an arm around his waist. “Can we please get out of this wretched place?”
Richard smiled down at her as he looked into her beautiful green eyes. “Sure.”
“We can now safely be on our way to the Wizard’s Keep,” Shale said, still looking a bit shaken.
“We’ve been down here an awfully long time,” Cassia said. “We need to get some food.”
Berdine grinned. “I could eat.”
26
On their way out of the vast maze that was the complication, they passed between two columns at the end of the corridor and entered a sizable area with dozens of glass spheres in iron brackets lighting a formal stone floor made of black and white marble squares. The walls had decorative tiles. To each side there were a pair of white marble columns supporting tall arches with ornate carving. Richard knew that although it was a node, this one was a benign junction in the spell-form.
As the group crossed the large area and then passed between the two columns on the opposite side where the corridor continued on, something made Richard lag behind and then look back up over his left shoulder to where he could see through the tall arch to a part of the upper level where it crossed the lower one they were on.
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