Fic: All the Days (Part 4/8)
Fic: All the Days (Part 4/8)
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 67,000
Summary: Years after they sealed the rift, Cara discovers that being a hero isn't all it's cracked up to be, and Kahlan discovers that Cara still makes things complicated.
10
They worked their way through terrain that became increasingly rocky and increasingly steep, the muffled curses of their companions periodically echoing off the rocks as pebbles shifted and horses lost their footing. They were three days into the mountain range when they met the man, the first stranger they had seen in almost a week. They were rounding a bend in the mountain pass when he stumbled out, and instantly every weapon was drawn and poised to strike. He seemed to barely register their presence, this new threat merely an aftershock to the terror Cara could see sharp in his eyes. He was older, his grey hair proclaiming him in his early sixties, and he was bleeding from several parts of his body, his clothes torn and spotted with blood. He clutched a walking stick in his left hand hand, but he wasn't using it to walk; it merely dragged behind him, as if he had forgotten he even held it.
Immediately, Kahlan was off her horse and at his side. "Are you alright?" she asked him gently, and he stared at her with unseeing eyes. She led him over to her horse, and he followed docilely, his stick thub-thumping on the ground with each step. Kahlan gave him a searching look. Gently, she reached over and unclamped his hand from the stick, letting it rest on the ground. The man's gaze followed the stick's movement, and he kept his eyes trained onto the ground until Kahlan began rubbing salve on his most deadly-looking wounds. Cara was already off her horse-she had been tensed and ready for an attack since the moment Kahlan approached the stranger. Now she moved next to him.
"Who are you?" she asked, ignoring the sharp, admonishing glare Kahlan threw her.
"I'm Ganor," the man said, looking vaguely back at Cara, the wind tugging at a whisp of his grey hair. His accent had a slightly foreign burr, his r's a little too short, his o's a little too long.
"What happened?" she demanded.
Ganor blinked at her, looked down at the arm Kahlan was bandaging, and then looked back at Cara. "It killed them."
Cara repressed a sigh, and tried to temper her voice and make it more like she imagined Kahlan's might be. "What is 'it'?"
"The monster of the pass. Both of them. There's only one, really, even though they say there's two. But they both did it."
Cara gritted her teeth. "A monster did this? What kind of monster?"
"Everyone knows about them," the man replied, shaking his head, almost as if he was amused at Cara's ignorance. "'The one who casts men down, and the one who eats six men and spits them out. But they're not real."
"So there are two monsters?" Cara prodded.
"Only one, but that's not the one that's real." Cara growled low in her throat and took a menacing step towards the man, but Kahlan held up a staying hand.
"He's in shock," Kahlan admonished. "Clearly something killed people he knows, and almost him. We need to give him some time."
"We don't have time," called Adai from her position above them on her horse. "Whatever it is that's ahead, we can handle it, now that we have warning. We can't do anything more for him."
Kahlan looked ready to argue, but then her hand unconsciously slipped to her pocket, where the compass rested. Regret flashed across her face, and she turned towards the stranger. "Ganor," she began gently, "my name is Kahlan. I've bandaged your wounds, and none of them look life-threatening. I'm going to give you enough food to get you back through the pass. Once you hit the foot of the mountains, there's a village; they'll take you in. I don't know what happened to you, but I promise you, if there is a monster ahead, we will do our best to kill it."
"There is no fighting it-no power can fight it," the man said with a laugh that had more madness to it than mirth. "All there is is flight."
"We can try," Cara responded grimly.
Kahlan only shrugged and reached into her saddlebag, pulling out some travel provisions. She handed the pouch to Ganor, who clutched it with about as much recognition as he had held his walking stick. "I'm sorry we can't do more," Kahlan said, her voice filled with a guilt Cara wished she could strip away, knowing how useless it was. Ganor only nodded and began to walk away from Kahlan, past the column of Mord'Sith tall on their horses, and down the path they had just traversed. Kahlan watched his back. Then she sighed and turned, reaching for her horse's bridle. She swung onto her mare's back, and when she spoke, her voice was hard. "Let's go."
It did not take them long to understand what the man had been shambling away from. They had been riding for a half hour when they came to a cliff whose edge was so sharp it could have been cut by the Sword of Truth. Adai held up her fist, and instantly the Mord'Sith behind her stopped. Cara and Kahlan kneed their horses forward so they were standing beside Adai.
"This could be difficult," Cara said dryly.
"We have to go that way," Adai answered, pointing one red-gloved finger towards a narrow path that led down the cliff face. Cara's eyes followed the path's winding movements. It plummeted down with the cliff before it began to slope upward again, feeding into one of the tallest mountains they had yet seen. Cara's eyes searched for an alternative trail, but all she saw was sheer rock faces, occasionally pockmarked by caves. If they were going to continue, they would have to follow this path, and they would have to do it without horses.
"Someone is going to get very rich with the steeds we are about to leave behind," Adai said tartly, tongue pressing gently against her teeth in a display of rueful mirth. She seemed about to turn to instruct the other Mord'Sith to dismount when Kahlan interrupted.
"Wait," she urged, her eyes intently searching the land below them. "There's something down there."
Instantly, Cara's eyes snapped downward, and she narrowed them for a better view. Then she saw it-a slight shimmer in one of the larger caves, barely noticeable, but very likely living.
"Do you think it's Ganor's monster? Or monsters?" Kahlan asked.
"Could be," Cara replied, "though the man was mad enough to have run from an enraged deer. Whatever it is, it's in perfect position. The only way through is along that path, and all it has to do is snatch a walker from the side of the mountain."
"You know," Kahlan mused, "there are legends about this part of the mountains-old wives' tales, really. They say that there are two monsters who haunt the Valen Peaks, working together to trap hapless travelers. One mans the mountain and tosses strangers to the one below, who eats them up and spits out their bones."
Cara turned in her horse to stare disbelievingly at Kahlan. "And you did not think to mention this earlier?"
"I thought it was only a story," Kahlan responded defensively, tone pitched high in indignation.
Adai snorted. "Whatever it is, we're going to have to face it. Either that, or we'll have to backtrack and go east before heading back south."
"That would take days," Kahlan answered immediately, her voice grown hard and dismissive. "We can't waste any more time."
"Then we go down," Adai said with a shrug. "I would not have liked backing from a fight anyway."
Cara wheeled her horse to follow Adai's, making sure her smile was only a memory by the time they rejoined the rest of the Mord'Sith. "We're going down the embankment," Cara told them, a statement and an order rolled into one. "We'll have to leave the horses here. There's something down there in a cave, and it will probably try to kill us. Those of you with bows and arrows and bladed weapons-I suggest you prepare them."
There was an immediate rustling and clanking of women dismounting, pulling off supplies, gathering weapons. Cara slid off her horse and began to unbuckle her saddlebags. They were made by Aydindril leatherworkers, and were designed to convert easily to a bag with straps that could be slung across her back. Cara checked to make sure she had everything she needed and nothing more, and then she turned to her horse. Pitching her voice low so none of the others could hear, she said,
"This is where I leave you. I hope you find a nice filly and have lots of disagreeable, ill-tempered foals." She felt her face going red as she said the words, but this horse had been more loyal than most humans she knew, and he deserved better than abandonment in some spirits-forsaken mountain pass, leagues from home. The horse gently butted its nose against Cara's chest, recognizing her tone and dutifully expecting treats. Sighing, Cara dug through her saddlebag and pulled out a handful of dried apple chips. She held them out and in an instant they were gone from her hand, replaced by the slobbery trail of her horse's lipping. Shaking her head ruefully, she gave her horse a quick slap on its neck and turned to join Kahlan at the edge of the embankment.
Soon after, the rest of the Mord'Sith company joined them, and they began to make their way cautiously down the steep path, thirteen pairs of eyes on the lookout for any sudden movement from the cave thirty feet below. When they reached level ground again. Cara surveyed the land before them. The path continued fifty feet ahead of them, cutting sharply and steeply into the side of the mountain and winding along its outer rim, eventually disappearing around a bend. The entrance to the path was only a few steps away from the entrance to the cave-now dark with no sign of motion-and Cara somehow expected this close proximity was no coincidence.
"See anything suspicious?" Adai asked, squinting as if this would provide her with vision into the pitch-black interior of the cave.
"Yes," Cara responded shortly. "A dark cave spacious enough for something large, and a collection of white sticks near its entrance that look suspiciously like bones."
"Hmm," Adai remarked, tilting her head to contemplate the white glints they could barely make out. Then she turned to Cara and Kahlan, eyebrow lifted. "Hard to fight what we can't see." Cara nodded and wordlessly drew her bow from her back. She smoothly knocked an arrow, adjusted her bow so the arrow pointed towards the sinking sun, and gazed along the length of the shaft. Then she released, watching in satisfaction as the arrow arced upward, arrowhead glinting as the sun just caught it, then plummeted down to be swallowed up by blackness of the entrance of the cave.
There was stillness, and then it came.
It was not a possible thing. It had far too many heads-five-seven-six-writhing too fast to count, its sheer fury palpable as it did not so much emerge as simply appear on the terrain before them, six sets of needle-sharp teeth gnashing at the air, six gaping holes serving as noses questing out their scent, twenty feet of sheer horror. The eyes were barely slits in the grotesque mockeries of faces-scales that once shone in the sun dulled by a life lived skulking in a cave, jaws discolored by whatever gore and blood still matted them. Necks whipping back and forth like snakes, corded muscles straining against mottled brown-and-grey skin and scales. Body lean except where its stomach bulged-like a snake again here, Cara noted unconsciously, still digesting its meal: Ganor's people.
They did not act, only reacted. The stench hit them like a blow and the monster nearly flowed towards them, and then one head had snapped out and a Mord'Sith was screaming, and Mord'Sith do not scream, unless a beast has nearly ripped her arm off with one-sixth of its heads. But Mord'Sith have weathered human depravity again and again, and even this beast could not match that, so soon its heads were snapping back and forth, almost entangling with each other, as it strove to avoid swords and knives and the humming agiels that leached through its scales to dig into flesh and settle pain among sinew and bone.
Cara saw Kahlan dart around the beast's side, narrowly avoiding the snap of a set of jaws. She rolled under the thing's belly-miraculously, impossibly-and plunged both knives in its soft flesh, before rolling out again just as a head curled under its chest to snap at where she had just been. Cara was already upon it, agiels seeking out eyes and noses and anything soft. She saw it take a blow from a Mord'Sith sword, saw one head part from the neck, saw the other five scream with fury and retaliate by ripping the Mord'Sith nearly in half.
Cara blinked, and then Adai was beside her, breathing hard, black ichor on the blade she held in her left hand, counter to the agiel in her right. "You two have to go," Adai said lowly, eyes never leaving the beast's writhing movements as it was momentarily kept at bay by the rest. "We'll distract it, and by Rahl's name we'll kill it. But just in case…" She let her eyes leave the scene before them and flashed Cara one of the few full smiles she had ever seen on the woman. It was as fierce and feral as she had imagined it would be. "Go."
Words weren't the domain for either of them, so Cara only nodded, meeting the other woman's eyes for just a moment, and then turned to find Kahlan. The Confessor seemed poised to make another run at the beast, perhaps hoping another thrust from her already-dripping knives would have more effect. "Kahlan," Cara said sharply, reaching out to tug on her arm. Kahlan spun towards her, eyes intent and flecked with hot energy. "We need to go. Adai and the rest will hold it off while we go up the path."
Kahlan glanced back at the monster. Despite the one headless neck that drooped like a wet rope, its bloody end dragging across the rocky ground as the monster darted left and right, the beast seemed to be barely suffering. Kahlan looked back at Cara and nodded. And then they were sprinting towards the path, eating up the final feet and then beginning to feel the steep ascent on their calves. Cara led the way, and neither looked behind, though they could hear the sound of shouts, screams both human and inhuman, flesh meeting hard things. There was a moment, only a few feet up, when Cara felt it, and she turned her head over her shoulder to see the thing straining up towards them, undulating necks stretching out, jaws snapping just below her feet. But then it recoiled, struck lower down on its body by an agiel, and Cara returned her attention to the climb.
As the path got narrower, until Cara's body was pressed flush against the rock face, rock digging into her cheek, she muttered to Kahlan over her shoulder, "I hope that man really was mad, and there was only the one monster. Because I am nothing if not intrinsically optimistic-" she heard Kahlan's snort carried to her by the wind, "-but if something comes around this bend, we will die."
"This is the monster," Kahlan responded as Cara heard the shuffle of her feet on the fine gravel behind her. "Ganor said only one was real-that one below, the one who 'eats six men and spits them out.'" This cursed path is the one that 'casts them down' so that thing below can eat whatever plummets downwards."
"Spirits, I hate epithets," Cara muttered, before returning her attention to the thin line of gravel before her.
It seemed to take them forever, and by the time they had rounded their third twist in the mountain path, Cara could feel the tips of her fingers blistering through her gloves from where they clutched onto the bare indentations of the rock face, and she imagined Kahlan must be faring much worse. But eventually she noticed the path becoming wider, the turns less frequent, and soon enough there was room on the path for her to walk facing forward, though there was not yet room to walk two-by-two. Another hundred feet and the path widened into a proper trail, and she felt Kahlan's presence at her side. The path dipped into an actual clearing, and without speaking, she and Kahlan flung themselves down on the ground, limbs flopping weakly, eyes staring up at the blue-grey sky as their muscles shrieked for relief.
Cara wasn't sure how long they lay there, not speaking. Eventually, she felt Kahlan stir, and Cara laboriously rose to her feet. "We have another few hours of daylight," Kahlan said, standing to squint at the rapidly-receding sun. "If we can find another clearing along the way, we can settle down for the night." Cara nodded and bent to pick up her shoulder pack, wincing as tight muscles strained. The path remained wide, so they walked side-by-side, though they didn't speak for some time.
Finally, Kahlan broke the silence: "I'm sure she made it."
Cara shrugged. "She has faced worse. I do not envy any of that thing's ugly heads, after Adai is done with it."
Kahlan chuckled, and they walked on in silence until the path opened up into a blessedly wide clearing, and they prepared to settle down for the night.
11
After a few days, the mountains evened out to hills, and soon they were back in wooded areas. Cara found that she did not recognize all the trees in these woods, nor all the birds that lived in them and raised a terrible din whenever Cara and Kahlan entered their territory. Luckily, southern birds tasted just as good as northern ones did.
During those first few days in the Old Kingdom, the only people they saw were at a distance. After a short while, though, they began to see signs of habitation-isolated homes that eventually evolved into tiny villages. There did not appear to be any distinctive clothing differences among these southerners, so Kahlan and Cara weren't particularly concerned with being discovered as foreign invaders.
After their third day of walking along a forest path, and the fifth time that day that Cara had shaken a stone from her boot, she released a frustrated growl. "We need horses. This is ridiculous."
"I know," Kahlan answered with a sigh. "But we don't have any currency to buy them."
"I wasn't talking about buying," Cara retorted, smacking a mosquito that had alighted on her neck.
"We can't steal horses from an innocent family," Kahlan protested.
"No one's innocent, Kahlan," Cara replied, giving her a withering look. "But if you're really that concerned, I guarantee you that I can find some bad, bad men at this next village that even you wouldn't mind stealing horses from."
"Fine," Kahlan replied, and Cara suspected most of her acquiescence was due to the days they were losing by traveling on foot, not any expectation that Cara would find her evil victims.
In fact, it was not so hard to find bad men, as Cara had known all along. At the very next village they came to, they entered the bustling streets and immediately heard the wailing cries of a man being carelessly beaten by what appeared to be a nobleman. From what they could tell, the commoner's livestock had accidentally become entangled with the nobleman's procession.
"Some traits are apparently universal," Cara remarked wryly. Kahlan's eyes were hard, and she clearly wished this incident had occurred where she had jurisdiction to punish. "Come on," Cara said, rolling her eyes and tugging at Kahlan's arm. "There are subtler ways."
They surreptitiously followed the man and found where he lived. That night, the two of them took out the nobleman's guards (which Cara haughtily described as incompetent) and stole two horses, as well as the supplies they found in the barn. As a distraction against pursuit (and out of spite) they let all of the nobleman's horses loose as well.
They galloped away from the village, the adrenaline of triumph making Cara want to whoop her excitement. She could feel Kahlan's pleasure too, could see her grin as she bent low over the neck of her newly-stolen steed. There was a moment, after they slowed down to a trot, when she saw Kahlan's smile fade, and Cara could almost see Kahlan's thought process as she moved from excitement to guilt at that excitement.
"We are doing everything we can, as fast as we can," Cara told the other woman, doing her best to forestall any further slipping. "We did good today-we can enjoy that."
Kahlan nodded, and while there was no recapturing that previous feeling of elation, she couldn't help chuckling when Cara began to muse over just what kind of reaction the Southern nobleman would have when he discovered his loss.
*****
Traveling like this, just the two of them, was both familiar and strangely new. They had been alone together many times-had faced gars together, resurrected species together, nearly died together (more than once). But those circumstances were always deviations from a larger quest, one that had never really belonged to either of them. Now, everything they did had a driving, forward motion, though where it would all end neither of them could say.
They fell into a rhythm that had been building throughout their journey, one that became as comfortable and accepted as breathing. They woke, shared the terse, idle words of morning, and then rode. When it was cold, they shared a bedroll. Some nights, Cara would wake with Kahlan curled against her, hand loosely clutching at Cara's tunic and troubled lines creasing her still-sleeping face. When Cara opened a gash in her arm after her horse threw her, Kahlan calmly bandaged it, teasing Cara about her clumsiness, only grinning wider at Cara's indignant scowl. When Kahlan became restless at their pace, as she often did, and the need to speak became too strong, Cara listened.
They spoke often, or at least what counted as often to Cara. Whenever the conversation drifted to the past, they had an unspoken agreement to restrict their reminisces to those first few years, when it was just the two of them, Richard, and Zedd, and to the times they had been together in the seven years that followed. Kahlan didn't speak of whatever recent troubles she was having with Richard, and on the occasions when Cara volunteered information, she didn't speak of those later years. Sometimes, Cara could feel Kahlan on the brink of asking her more, of forcing the unspoken out. Kahlan always pulled back after tentative hints about the past, but Cara couldn't help but notice her hints were becoming more frequent.
Occasionally, Kahlan talked about Erin. Cara suspected she would have spoken even more about the child if she wasn't so worried that she was somehow imposing on Cara when she did. Once, early on, Kahlan expressed this concern out loud, when a chance encounter with a village child and her scolding mother led her to speak half-fondly, half-haltingly about Erin's most recent escapades with John the scullery boy. The smile on her lips that the memory conjured faded, and she shook her head, casting an apologetic look at Cara. "I'm sorry. I know this is the kind of thing you hate."
Cara sniffed superciliously. "If you begin to speak in that insufferable baby-talk you employed when she was first born, then yes, I will probably murder you and continue this quest by myself." This startled a laugh out of Kahlan. Cara hesitated, and her next words came slower, as if they were being pulled from her. "I know that I did not see her very often, when she was older. I became…busy, and children are not really my area of expertise." Kahlan snorted, and Cara glared at her before continuing. "But I am not…unfond of her. I am not here just because Richard required it, or because you needed me, or because Rahl needs to be killed more emphatically. I would like to see Erin back at Aydindril, and I would not particularly mind killing everyone who was involved with taking her away."
"As would I," Kahlan replied, her expression holding a sinister fierceness that Cara knew well. The expression faded, and Kahlan smiled at her. "I will try to limit my reminisces nonetheless, and I promise no baby-talk. Really, though, I only used it for a week-her vocabulary is excellent now, I'll have you know."
Cara's expression was dubious. "If I recall, 'no' her favorite word last time I saw her at Aydindril."
Kahlan smiled fondly, eyes a little distant. "She can be willful. I can't imagine where she got that from." She shook her head in amusement, but then her expression became hesitant. "You know, when I told Dietmar that we didn't know if Erin had Confessor powers, I wasn't really telling the truth." Cara raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Kahlan continued. "There's a test for potential Confessors, one that doesn't require the Confessing of a human being. I had to explain to Erin how to Confess, first: how it feels to fill your body with your will, until it…" she paused, her eyes narrowing as she sought out the proper word, "…pulses from your skin. I had to explain how to focus on someone and let that willpower flow from your fingertips, your eyes, your breath. I had to explain what it's like to use that power to control someone else and bend them to your will. She was a little confused at first." Kahlan let out a slight laugh, half amusement, half self-consciousness. "Of course, I didn't explain it in quite those terms, and I didn't tell her what it was-she thought it was some kind of game. I had her focus her attention on one of her toys-Duke Fernando, actually." She looked at Cara, and Cara winced in embarrassment. Kahlan's amused expression became more serious. "I saw the power fill her, saw her eyes go dark. The Confessor power went away after a moment, of course-you can't Confess a stuffed animal. I know Erin felt it, though. You never forget your first Confession, even a half Confession like that. I told her to remember how it felt, but never to tell anyone unless I told her to, and never, ever to try it on another person." Kahlan went silent, her thoughts far in the past.
"Did you tell Richard?" Cara found herself asking, unsure of why she asked.
"No," Kahlan answered, guilt flashing across her face. "I would have, eventually. But I think…I think part of him doesn't want her to be a Confessor. He's never said that," Kahlan amended hurriedly, seeing the way Cara narrowed her eyes, "but he knows as well as I do that it can be a curse. And he knows that it will be hard for her to love."
"You managed," Cara pointed out dryly. "I can't stop at a tavern these days without hearing some beardless minstrel crooning about the great love between the Seeker and the Mother Confessor, a love so great it conquered the most powerful of magics."
"I swear, I should have smacked Zedd the day he started all that talk of magical love," Kahlan said, grimacing. "Sometimes Zedd lets his flair for the dramatic get away from him. Sometimes I think he's more invested in our relationship than we ever were."
"I think he may have actually written some of the songs they sing about you," Cara suggested, pursing her lips.
Kahlan laughed. "He's an old man. He needs a hobby besides lighting people on fire. I do wish he had explained it to the common people as simply as he later explained it to me: Confession works by causing the Confessed to fall in love with the Confessor. I already loved Richard, and he loved me. There was nothing to Confess."
"And can't Erin find the same?" Cara asked, feeling vaguely that this conversation was better suited for schoolgirls and gossiping wives, not a Mord'Sith of her stature.
"I hope," Kahlan said softly. "But I hate that she will risk everything if she thinks she's fallen in love. And even if she does find someone to love her that way, what happens if it…" Kahlan swallowed, and she didn't meet Cara's eyes, "…if it fades? Love is complicated. So is magic." She shook her head. "Young girls think they are in love and loved all the time, and taking a person's soul is a hard way to learn you were wrong."
Cara nodded, and for a moment they simply rode in silence, the forest road quiet except for the occasional lark call.
"And what do you want for her?" Cara finally asked, because she wanted to know.
"I want her to be strong," Kahlan answered simply, before shrugging her shoulders and elaborating. "I want her to be powerful, in whatever way she can. I know she can do great things, and do great good. I just…want her to have a childhood first, not like-"
"Not like us," Cara finished, and Kahlan nodded.
Sharp and unbidden, Cara's mind flashed to a tenth birthday spent learning the anatomy of the hand: how to break and rebreak fingers, how to apply the least pressure to the greatest effect, how to tell when screams of pain were loud enough. She imagined Kahlan's was spent Confessing innocent villagers at her father's bidding, watching their personalities drain from them like so much river run-off. She wondered briefly how Kahlan had come out of all of it devoted to good, and she had come out of it devoted only to pain.
Uncomfortable with this much conversation, and on this subject, Cara shook her head, and let her voice became biting. "I would not concern yourself with her future. If Richard could muddle his way through life and end up the Lord of all D'Hara, I am confident Erin will one day be overseeing empires. She is a good deal more intelligent than her father."
Kahlan laughed, and her gratitude was unspoken in the look she cast Cara. Neither mentioned that their speculation was useless if they never found the girl.
12
The weather became colder, and one day, things became bad.
It had been a long time building. The trouble began when they came close to stumbling upon an entire company of southern soldiers, and only Kahlan's alertness prevented them from cantering into the enemy camp. The soldiers were not bothering with much of a guard, as a company fifty-strong had very little to fear, so they did not catch sight of the interlopers. But the road their camp was stretched across was the main road south, as Kahlan had learned after inquiring at a local village. The soldiers' presence forced Cara and Kahlan to backtrack and circle around to a side path, one that was much less direct.
Cara could feel Kahlan's frustration rise in her; she felt it too. But in Kahlan, this frustration was sharper, and Cara found herself on edge, waiting for Kahlan to slip back into the raging intensity that had marked the early portion of their journey. Kahlan woke each morning with a heightened ferocity, her words becoming shorter as the days passed. Cara simply waited.
After they finally rejoined the main path, they hit a string of bad luck, so much so that Cara began to suspect they had been cursed. Cara's horse threw a shoe, and the nearest blacksmith was miles distant, villages growing increasingly scarce as the landscape became bleaker and the weather more biting. For once, Cara was the calm one, waiting for the blacksmith to fit the shoe while Kahlan paced back and forth, hands twisting against each other, barely containing her urge to Confess the blacksmith to work faster.
Then, the first snow appeared one morning, unbidden and unwanted. Cara remembered that she liked snow, but soon forgot this predilection when the petal-like, gently floating flakes turned into heavy, relentless slush, until the two of them were squinting into a wall of white, their horses shivering between their thighs.
It was after three days of this unending downfall-three days of walking on foot while guiding their horses, three days of trying to sleep at night while huddled under barely-sheltering outcrops, three days of Kahlan insisting they ride on to make up for lost time-when they stumbled upon a cave and Cara shoved Kahlan inside, yanking their horses so they would follow.
Immediately, Kahlan turned on Cara, her eyes hot with anger and something far stronger than impatience. They were both soaked, fresh flakes already beginning to melt and mingle with the ones that had wormed their way into their clothing. Kahlan was shivering, as she had been for days, but she didn't seem to notice. Her attention was only for Cara, who stood calmly, glad that at least her anticipation would finally be resolved.
"What are you doing?" Kahlan demanded, an almost mad accusation tickling at the edge of her voice. Her angry breaths made little puffs of condensation in the air. "It's only midday-we can ride for at least another few hours before we make camp."
"No, we can't," Cara insisted, glaring back at Kahlan. "We're losing as much time getting lost in this cursed snow as we will if we rest for the evening. We both need rest. The blizzard may have cleared up by tomorrow, and we can make up for lost time then."
"I don't need rest," Kahlan retorted angrily, though the tremor that ran through her body argued otherwise. "This is typical," she sneered, something ugly entering her eyes. "You are there, full-body, full-spirit, only so long as you wish, and then you are gone."
"What do you mean by that?" Cara asked sharply, sensing they were entering a path she would rather not.
"Only that you clearly don't care about Erin. You're here because Richard commanded you to be here; otherwise you wouldn't stop."
"He is the Lord Rahl," Cara said, gritting her teeth. "It is my duty to do as he commands. And I told you before-he is not the only reason I am here."
Kahlan laughed, a raw sound to match the look on her face. "Richard claps, and you follow, like always. But where are you when I need you?"
"Stop speaking in riddles," Cara snapped, her eyes hard as they met Kahlan's, which were flecked with hot anger and something else. "Say what you mean to say."
"Fine," Kahlan said flatly, her expression almost dead of emotion. Cara suddenly realized she was not sure she wanted to know what Kahlan would say. "After we defeated the Keeper, after we all helped establish order at Aydindril and the People's Palace, you just left. And don't tell me you had duties-I know those first years were busy, trying to ensure loyalty to Richard and truces when you could not. I know there was work to do. But you could have come back more, especially after the war. You were needed."
"What did you expect me to do?" Cara bit out. She had not intended this anger to rise in her, but she was tired, and cold, and her barriers had been beaten down slowly with time; Kahlan's words were doing their best to make them crumble. "Did you want me to abandon my responsibilities so we could gossip like schoolgirls, marvel over your child and your domestic bliss with Richard?"
"Domestic bliss?" Kahlan nearly coughed out, her eyes suddenly seeming more wild, lit only by the flickering white light from outside the cave. "If you had come back more, you might have seen what happens to domestic bliss when a war rips your land apart; when you and your husband spend more time quelling rebellions than seeing each other; when you go for half a year," she swallowed hard, eyes bright, "without seeing your daughter or husband, because a monster in red decided he hasn't torn your life apart enough, and decides to place an army between you and your home. You weren't there to see how things changed." She shook her head, and when she looked at Cara, there was both anger and desperation in her eyes. "I thought we had become friends, but you were only there when we needed your agiels. I needed you. Where were you?"
"Where was I?" Cara answered, her voice low and dangerous. "Do not ask questions you don't want answered."
"Don't do that, Cara," Kahlan nearly spat in disgust. "Don't deflect, don't shroud everything like you're some mystery to be solved."
"Fine," Cara said, and a mirthless smile traced her lips. "You know what I was doing that first year when you and Richard barely left the People's Palace, so in love were you? I fought, and I killed, and I pulled the kingdoms together. I bent the Mord'Sith to my will, and welded the D'Harans to Richard, those who no longer followed Rahl. I crossed from North to South, East to West so many times, I knew the roads better than the stays of my leather. I became a general for you-forged an army out of groups who would rather kill each other than fight together. I did all of this so that you and Richard could be together, have the life you always prattled on about." Cara laughed, but there was something sick in it. She felt words flowing from her, unstoppable, like poison. " Of course, it didn't matter, in the end. Rahl came back, and you went East, Richard West. When it was all over, I had to do it again-quell rebellions and clean up your mess, like I've always done. You don't know the things I had to do, the things I kept away from Richard's pure ears, just to hold the land together." Her voice was mocking, and by now she didn't even know if she meant everything she said. "It's not my fault that you two squandered it all. It's not my fault that it took a war for you to realize that you can't balance duty and love. Do you think Rahl would have gained so much power, if you two had been more focused on your lands? And it's not my fault that the brat was stolen right from under your nose-maybe if you hadn't become so comfortable, it never would have happened."
Hardly had these last, sneering words left Cara's mouth than Kahlan was upon her, hand slamming against Cara's throat and the momentum of her body ramming Cara against the cave wall. Cara felt sharp rock dig into her back, felt a jagged slab punch through her leather and just nick the skin, felt Kahlan's hand tighten around her throat. Kahlan was breathing hard, her wet, heavy hair framing eyes that were suddenly savage as they looked into Cara's. Cara could hardly breath around Kahlan's hand, and when she spoke, it came out as a croak.
"Are you going to Confess me, Confessor?" And she felt a nearly hysterical laughter bubbling up in her, escaping as a single, humorless sound. At Cara's words, something, maybe doubt, flickered across Kahlan's expression.
"I can't," she gritted, her grip loosening almost imperceptibly.
"Why not?" Cara taunted. "Afraid you'll have no one else to blame if you kill me?"
"No," Kahlan answered with quiet intensity, her eyes searching Cara's. "I can't. I tried, when I was in the Con Dar, back at the People's Palace. I felt the power fill me but…I couldn't Confess you."
Cara's eyes went wide, but she resisted understanding, instead holding onto her mocking smile for dear life. "Maybe you were only waiting for the right moment, in the middle of a blizzard, when you could go into hysterics and-"
Kahlan's lips-hot, wet, and hungry-stopped her words.
There was no finesse to this contact, only a kind of brutal need as Kahlan thrust her lips against Cara's. Without thinking, Cara kissed her back, hard enough to leave a mark. Cara forced her tongue into Kahlan's mouth, feeling Kahlan's sharp intake of breath against her lips. Kahlan uncurled her hand from Cara's throat and slipped her arm around Cara's waist, yanking her to her tight so they were breast-to-breast, hipbone-to-hipbone. Cara used the momentum and swung Kahlan around, slamming her back into the wall. Kahlan gasped in pain and their lips parted for a moment, but Cara used this opening to bring their faces together again and slip her tongue back into Kahlan's mouth, their teeth nearly grinding together with their insistence.
Cara's skin was hot, her mind and body feverish. She could feel adrenaline and sheer need coursing through her blood, filling her up like the pulse of her agiel. She didn't let herself think. Her fingers tore at the coat Kahlan wore, and Kahlan hastily moved from the wall so she could help Cara rip it off, her own hands trembling with barely-contained desire. Then Cara's fingers were scrabbling at the ties of Kahlan's dress, and her lips pressed into Kahlan's throat again and again, tasting melted snow and sweat and Kahlan. She kissed her throat again, higher up, then again, finally licking a trail just at the crease of Kahlan's neck. She heard Kahlan release a slight moan when Cara bit the skin hard enough to bruise, and when Cara's hand slipped into the bodice of Kahlan's dress, over the soft flesh of her breast, she could feel Kahlan's heart beating as quickly as her own.
Cara felt warmth and wetness where her legs met, and an ache begin to build in her belly. The heat of their bodies and breaths overpowered the cold around them, and Cara wondered for a moment if she was only imagining this, because it could not be real.
She looked up from Kahlan's pale throat, her hips and legs still pressed tightly against Kahlan's. Kahlan gazed back at her, her breathing coming in sharp gasps, her eyes hooded with too many things to name.
"Cara," she said once, the word coming out as a plea. It was like a flare of wizard's fire cutting through the fog of Cara's mind. She finally looked at Kahlan, at her still-damp hair, loose and wild around her face, her cheeks hollowed after weeks of hard travel, her expression of want and loss and doubt and need. Cara swallowed, and then took a step back, sliding her hand out from Kahlan's dress.
"We can't," Cara said, her voice hoarse in her own ears. "I shouldn't. I-" Kahlan looked suddenly lost, and smaller, and Cara couldn't take it. She shook her head once, fiercely, and then turned, nearly fleeing from the cave.
She staggered outside, into driving wind that slammed into her, almost made her fall to her knees. She could barely see, and the cold seemed somehow wrong to a body that felt like it was on fire. She stumbled along the outer rockface and suddenly found that the wind had abated. She looked around and realized she had blundered into a shallow cave, hardly big enough for one person to stand. She almost gasped her relief, and immediately she sank down, her back against the slightly curving wall.
Not allowing herself to think, she removed her glove, feeling the chill nip at her fingers. Before her fingers could go numb, she tore at the ties of her leathers until she could slip a hand down her belly, finding the flesh there slick and waiting. There was no gentleness to her rough, insistent movements. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, imagining that it was Kahlan's fingers, Kahlan's tongue on her. As her hips began to jerk, she flashed to the plea in Kahlan's eyes, and her cries of release were lost in the wind.
*****
When Cara returned to the cave, she was immediately met by the smell of smoke. Kahlan was kneeling by a small fire, feeding it kindling. When Cara stepped inside, Kahlan looked up, and her worried face suddenly smoothed with relief. She stood slowly to her feet, looking hesitantly at Cara. Cara noticed a bruise blossoming on Kahlan's neck, where she had bitten her.
Cara paused, but then strode inside. "Where did you find the wood?" she asked abruptly.
"There was a pile in the back corner," Kahlan answered, eyes flicking back towards the flames. "Someone else must have used this cave as shelter and left the wood behind."
Cara nodded and moved their saddlebags, shaking off some of the snow that coated her as she did so. She began to pull out some feed for the horses, some dried food for the two of them, and their sleeping rolls.
"Cara-" came Kahlan's voice from over her shoulder, her entreating tone tugging at Cara more than any hand could. Cara sighed and turned around to meet blue eyes. "We should talk…" Kahlan continued, swallowing.
"It's fine," Cara said brusquely.
"You don't want to talk about this?" Kahlan asked, her brow furrowing.
"Do I ever want to talk about things? Besides, look where talking got us last time," Cara answered wryly, and she saw Kahlan's lips twitch. Then Cara shrugged. "It happened. It won't happen again. I am willing to blame it on the weather and the journey if you are."
Kahlan looked like she wanted to say more, but then she simply nodded. "Fine. But if you do want to talk-"
"I won't," Cara interrupted shortly. "Now, we have some bullion left and a few dried herbs-I suggest we make soup to go with our bread."
After they had eaten the last of the only mildly flavorful soup and had rebuilt the fire, it came time to prepare for sleep. Normally, there would be no question of sleeping arrangements-even with the fire and several thick blankets, the cave was cold, and the only sensible decision was to share body heat. Yet Kahlan paused before lying down, casting a hesitant look at Cara.
Cara rolled her eyes. "Look, if you promise to neither kill me nor kiss me, I will do the same. I refuse to shiver through the night because you have some misplaced sense of embarrassment."
Kahlan looked like she couldn't decide whether to laugh or scowl. She settled for a slight smile and a shrug. "You're right." She sank to her knees and then slipped under one of the coverlets, curling so her back was to Cara. Cara shucked off her boots and then slid in beside Kahlan, pulling her extra blanket over the two of them. At first, Cara lay flat on her back, feeling Kahlan's warmth only at her left side. But then her ears began to grow cold, and she decided to stop being ridiculous. Wordlessly, she rolled onto her side and wrapped an arm around Kahlan, pressing her body to the other woman's curves so they could both receive the most warmth. Neither said anything, and Cara was sure she only imagined that Kahlan's heart thumped against her chest faster than usual.
Kahlan's hair, dry now, tickled against Cara's forehead, and Cara found herself wanting to run a hand across the smooth skin of her arm. Cara barely repressed an irritated growl that began rumbling in her chest, reminding her that she was being a fool.
Kahlan shifted slightly. "I'm sorry, Cara," she whispered.
"Shut up, Kahlan," was all Cara said, though she said the words with unusual gentleness.
Cara was a Mord'Sith, and Mord'Sith know how to sleep through even the greatest distractions, when they need to. She did not know when Kahlan fell asleep, but Cara soon found herself slipping into a dreamless slumber.
13
When they woke, the blizzard had passed.
They stepped outside into a world draped in white, all sound muffled by the heavy blanket of snow. It took some time to make their way through the thick layers of snow, but once they got back on the main path, they found that the thick canopy of trees arching over the road had kept the path's snow to a manageable level. Of course, the snow that had landed on treetops weighed down on them, and more than once Cara found herself cursing when a branch buckled under the weight, dumping its slushy load directly on her head. Somehow, Kahlan managed to avoid the same fate, and Cara's glares only made her laugh harder.
These moments of levity were welcome, because there was no doubt that a distance had sprung up between them. Cara hated the skittish feeling she was suddenly experiencing, the unfamiliar doubt that plagued each word she shared with Kahlan. Luckily, they had to concentrate enough on the path that there was little time for long conversation.
Throughout their journey, they had kept up with the progress back home via journey book. Though Aydindril, the People's Palace, and the Southern Keep were all holding their own, every week saw the addition of new troops from the Old Kingdom. The day after the incident at the cave, they received a message from Zedd instructing them to prepare a Seer's Fire that night. They were only able to bring enough supplies for one such fire on their journey, so they were both aware of the importance of Zedd's message as they set up camp for the night.
After eating and settling the horses, Kahlan prepared the powders and spoke the incantation. She and Cara then sat side-by-side facing the fire, waiting. Only moments later, the fire flared up, flames licking ten feet in the air in a flash of brilliant blues and emerald greens, before dying back down again. When the sparks subsided, Zedd stood in the flames.
He looked a bit more worn, but much the way he always did-his slightly rumpled clothes covered his tall, lanky frame, and his face lit up when he saw them. Cara was surprised at how good it felt to see the old man.
"Kahlan, Cara!" Zedd exclaimed. "It's good to see you!"
"It's good to see you too, Zedd," Kahlan said warmly. "How is everything?"
Zedd's face fell a bit, but his tone was still cheerful. "Hard, as is to be expected. But the people have rallied around Richard again, and I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve they won't be expecting. Best of all, I've got news on Rahl."
Cara felt rather than saw Kahlan's body tense with excitement. "What did you find out?" Kahlan asked eagerly.
"Quite a bit," Zedd admitted. "It took a terrible amount of research-many musty tombs and ancient scrolls. Also a lot of threatening captured members of Rahl's troops." Cara frowned, sorry she had missed out on the intimidation. "I've discovered how Rahl came back, and how he's able to transport all these troops north. Well, I've partially discovered it," Zedd amended. "He's in league with the Keeper."
"Again?" Cara exclaimed indignantly. "I thought we took care of the Keeper."
"You can't just 'take care' of the Keeper, Cara," Zedd replied sternly, and Cara scowled. "He is the lord of the underworld-that will never change. He may not be able to enter our world, but he still gains power through the souls and suffering of those on earth who eventually enter his hands. Rahl has done the unthinkable to gain new life and new power-he has given the Keeper some part of his soul."
Zedd said this last part sonorously, and Cara suspected she was supposed to be appalled. Instead, she said, "So? Does Rahl even have a soul anymore?"
"Everyone has a soul, Cara," Zedd admonished. "A man without a soul is no man at all. Which, as it turns out, is quite to our benefit."
"What do you mean?" Kahlan asked, lines of concern crinkling her brow.
"Rahl became immune to Confession years and years ago, his soul protected from it by the potion his wizard extracted from you." Cara glanced at Kahlan, whose face had gone hard and tight. Cara hadn't been there when Rahl had captured Kahlan, but she had heard about it. "But Rahl's soul has been sundered through his deal with the Keeper."
"So I can Confess him?" Kahlan asked, her face lighting up with sharp anticipation.
"If you can get close enough," Zedd answered, holding up a staying finger. "And there lies the other important information I have. I have a source close to Rahl. His name is Henry Peddlar, a master stonemason, and he owes a debt to me; I rescued his family from death once, years ago. His son later grew ill, and he heard rumors that a cure lay beyond the Valen Mountains. After the war, when companies of Rahl's troops began fleeing south, he went with them, promising they would need his skill at building. And they did-it was he who designed the Keep where Rahl now lives."
"So you know where Rahl is?" Kahlan interrupted eagerly, the light from the flames glancing off her over-bright eyes.
"Not knowing the Old Kingdom's geography, I only know that he lies leagues south of where you are," Zedd answered, "but the compass I made you should continue to guide you there."
"And this man-Peddlar," Cara interjected. "How can he help us?"
"He can get you into Rahl's keep," Zedd answered gravely. "He designed it and helps maintain it; he is well-known and trusted. He also knows where Rahl keeps several amulets of powerful magic that allow him to transport objects and people over great distance. All you must do is find Erin and this amulet, and it will take you back to the People's Palace instantly."
Cara snorted: "all you must do" sounded like a rather tall order. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "And what does Peddlar get out of this?"
Zedd shrugged and smiled magnanimously. "He gets to repay his debt, and lift his guilt at aiding Rahl."
Cara scowled; that did not sound particularly promising. But Kahlan was nodding. '"If you trust him, we trust him," Kahlan said evenly. "And I'm not sure we have any other option."
Suddenly, Zedd jerked and looked over his shoulder, as if someone was speaking to him on his side. He turned back to them, a frown creasing his brow.
"I have to go, I hate to say. But I will send you more details through the journey book." Zedd's eyebrows drew together as he gave them a serious look. "But before I go, I wanted to warn you. From more than one source, I've heard rumors of the land you will soon be crossing. They speak of a race of people-called Whisperers-who feed on memories. They say they can make men forget their homes, their own names even."
Cara regarded Zedd with ill-contained scorn. "We're not children, Zedd, to be scared of a few fairy tales."
Whatever hold Zedd had over his dignified image as a Wizard of the First Order dissolved immediately as he scowled at Cara. "If you were here, Cara, I'd be tempted to box your impertinent ears."
"I'd like to see you try, wizard," Cara said menacingly.
"Enough, you two," Kahlan said, laughing. She addressed Zedd. "We'll be careful, Zedd, I promise."
"Good," Zedd said with a nod, his scowl turning instantly into a grin. "Now I really must go. Richard sends his love."
Kahlan smiled. "Tell him to be safe. And you too."
"Richard is well beyond doing what I tell him to do," Zedd said wryly, "but I will do my best."
And with that, the flames flickered up once more, and Zedd was gone.
*****
They rode on, through weather that became increasingly warm, until each morning saw the earth steaming as the sun drew away the dew of the night before. Cara couldn't help but think there was something strange in this sudden shift in weather patterns. She decided not to question it further, however, because it meant they could, for the first time in a week, bathe in a stream that did not include the occasional ice floe.
The countryside they passed through reminded Cara of the land bordering Aydindril, all grassy, rolling hills interspersed with wooded areas. They had just entered another one of these wooded areas when they came upon a small stream and stopped to water their horses.
Cara dismounted and sank down next to the stream so she could refill her water skin. She stood up and saw Kahlan stretching, arms reaching up towards the sky. Kahlan lowered her arms and cast Cara a wry smile. "I almost forgot how riding for miles can bend you out of shape."
"Too many nights on a feathered bed," Cara suggested in a superior tone, and Kahlan rolled her eyes. Then Kahlan's expression lit up and she walked past Cara towards a tree with low-hanging branches. She reached up and plucked one of the fruits from the tree, giving it a curious sniff. Then she smiled and turned to toss it at Cara. Cara caught it one-handed, frowning at the deep purple sheen of the fruit.
"How long's it been since we had fresh fruit?" Kahlan inquired, lifting an eyebrow. "Everything's been frozen, and most of the supplies we received from those farmers are dried." Kahlan reached up and pulled off a fruit for herself, turning it in her hand before sinking her teeth into its skin. Cara waited a moment to see if Kahlan suddenly started seizing from some unknown toxin, then shrugged and bit into her own.
The fruit was almost overpoweringly sweet, reminding Cara of the sweetfruits of Western Aldrin, only with a greater depth of flavor. Cara could not decide whether its slightly bitter tang was pleasant or not, but she had to admit that eating fresh fruit again felt like a luxury at this point. She finished hers in a few bites and tossed the rind to the grass. She saw Kahlan do the same, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth before bending down to the stream to drink some water.
Cara turned to squint up at the sun. Its rays were particularly bright that day, shooting through the branches of the trees to cast flickering shadows on the forest floor. Cara let her gaze slowly drift to the shadows, which moved and contorted like the objects of some child's shadow games. She furrowed her brow, thinking for a moment that shadows should not move so quickly-she had never seen shadows behave like that. She sank down to her haunches and reached out her fingers to touch one of the shadows, mildly perplexed when her fingers met only grass. Then she lost interest when she heard the soft call of a bird. She stood up and looked into the woods, hearing the sound of every branch rustling, every small animal moving. Her body felt loose, connected yet untethered, and she smiled, observing as the men and women materialized from the woods.
They had a kind of glow around them-reds and yellows and sharp oranges-and Cara had trouble making out their faces, but she didn't really mind. Two of them moved past her and Cara watched as they grabbed the bridles of their horses and began leading them away. Cara noticed Kahlan standing, her arms hung loosely at her side, watching without curiosity as a woman approached her. The woman beckoned for Kahlan to follow, and when Cara turned her head, she realized a man was doing the same to her. Nodding vaguely, Cara began to walk behind the man, noticing with mild curiosity that her feet seemed to make no noise as they landed on the branches and leaves carpeting the forest ground.
They walked for a while, and then they were there. It was a clearing in the woods, and there were houses. People wandered among the buildings, but Cara had trouble focusing on the moving figures. She looked up, into the tall tall trees, and thought she saw more houses in the branches. A smile began to creep its way to her face, but then she heard the man say something and she forgot to finish the expression. She kept walking beside him, into a hut that was dimly lit and littered with pillows. She sat down where the man pointed, and watched as Kahlan entered the hut and came to sit beside her. Kahlan seemed like she was going to say something to Cara, but then a new woman entered the hut. Cara thought she might be old, but it was hard to tell with the glow around her face. The woman held a tray with two cups on it. She set the tray on the ground and handed one cup to Cara, one to Kahlan. Without even thinking, Cara took a sip of the drink. It was hot, and it tasted like the fruit they had eaten earlier, but stronger. She almost gagged at the overpowering sweetness, but somehow found herself draining the whole cup instead. She looked over and saw Kahlan do the same.
Cara opened her mouth, feeling that there was something important she needed to say to Kahlan, something that couldn't wait. She lifted her hand up to reach for the other woman, but then let it fall back to her side. She closed her eyes.
Part 5
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 67,000
Summary: Years after they sealed the rift, Cara discovers that being a hero isn't all it's cracked up to be, and Kahlan discovers that Cara still makes things complicated.
10
They worked their way through terrain that became increasingly rocky and increasingly steep, the muffled curses of their companions periodically echoing off the rocks as pebbles shifted and horses lost their footing. They were three days into the mountain range when they met the man, the first stranger they had seen in almost a week. They were rounding a bend in the mountain pass when he stumbled out, and instantly every weapon was drawn and poised to strike. He seemed to barely register their presence, this new threat merely an aftershock to the terror Cara could see sharp in his eyes. He was older, his grey hair proclaiming him in his early sixties, and he was bleeding from several parts of his body, his clothes torn and spotted with blood. He clutched a walking stick in his left hand hand, but he wasn't using it to walk; it merely dragged behind him, as if he had forgotten he even held it.
Immediately, Kahlan was off her horse and at his side. "Are you alright?" she asked him gently, and he stared at her with unseeing eyes. She led him over to her horse, and he followed docilely, his stick thub-thumping on the ground with each step. Kahlan gave him a searching look. Gently, she reached over and unclamped his hand from the stick, letting it rest on the ground. The man's gaze followed the stick's movement, and he kept his eyes trained onto the ground until Kahlan began rubbing salve on his most deadly-looking wounds. Cara was already off her horse-she had been tensed and ready for an attack since the moment Kahlan approached the stranger. Now she moved next to him.
"Who are you?" she asked, ignoring the sharp, admonishing glare Kahlan threw her.
"I'm Ganor," the man said, looking vaguely back at Cara, the wind tugging at a whisp of his grey hair. His accent had a slightly foreign burr, his r's a little too short, his o's a little too long.
"What happened?" she demanded.
Ganor blinked at her, looked down at the arm Kahlan was bandaging, and then looked back at Cara. "It killed them."
Cara repressed a sigh, and tried to temper her voice and make it more like she imagined Kahlan's might be. "What is 'it'?"
"The monster of the pass. Both of them. There's only one, really, even though they say there's two. But they both did it."
Cara gritted her teeth. "A monster did this? What kind of monster?"
"Everyone knows about them," the man replied, shaking his head, almost as if he was amused at Cara's ignorance. "'The one who casts men down, and the one who eats six men and spits them out. But they're not real."
"So there are two monsters?" Cara prodded.
"Only one, but that's not the one that's real." Cara growled low in her throat and took a menacing step towards the man, but Kahlan held up a staying hand.
"He's in shock," Kahlan admonished. "Clearly something killed people he knows, and almost him. We need to give him some time."
"We don't have time," called Adai from her position above them on her horse. "Whatever it is that's ahead, we can handle it, now that we have warning. We can't do anything more for him."
Kahlan looked ready to argue, but then her hand unconsciously slipped to her pocket, where the compass rested. Regret flashed across her face, and she turned towards the stranger. "Ganor," she began gently, "my name is Kahlan. I've bandaged your wounds, and none of them look life-threatening. I'm going to give you enough food to get you back through the pass. Once you hit the foot of the mountains, there's a village; they'll take you in. I don't know what happened to you, but I promise you, if there is a monster ahead, we will do our best to kill it."
"There is no fighting it-no power can fight it," the man said with a laugh that had more madness to it than mirth. "All there is is flight."
"We can try," Cara responded grimly.
Kahlan only shrugged and reached into her saddlebag, pulling out some travel provisions. She handed the pouch to Ganor, who clutched it with about as much recognition as he had held his walking stick. "I'm sorry we can't do more," Kahlan said, her voice filled with a guilt Cara wished she could strip away, knowing how useless it was. Ganor only nodded and began to walk away from Kahlan, past the column of Mord'Sith tall on their horses, and down the path they had just traversed. Kahlan watched his back. Then she sighed and turned, reaching for her horse's bridle. She swung onto her mare's back, and when she spoke, her voice was hard. "Let's go."
It did not take them long to understand what the man had been shambling away from. They had been riding for a half hour when they came to a cliff whose edge was so sharp it could have been cut by the Sword of Truth. Adai held up her fist, and instantly the Mord'Sith behind her stopped. Cara and Kahlan kneed their horses forward so they were standing beside Adai.
"This could be difficult," Cara said dryly.
"We have to go that way," Adai answered, pointing one red-gloved finger towards a narrow path that led down the cliff face. Cara's eyes followed the path's winding movements. It plummeted down with the cliff before it began to slope upward again, feeding into one of the tallest mountains they had yet seen. Cara's eyes searched for an alternative trail, but all she saw was sheer rock faces, occasionally pockmarked by caves. If they were going to continue, they would have to follow this path, and they would have to do it without horses.
"Someone is going to get very rich with the steeds we are about to leave behind," Adai said tartly, tongue pressing gently against her teeth in a display of rueful mirth. She seemed about to turn to instruct the other Mord'Sith to dismount when Kahlan interrupted.
"Wait," she urged, her eyes intently searching the land below them. "There's something down there."
Instantly, Cara's eyes snapped downward, and she narrowed them for a better view. Then she saw it-a slight shimmer in one of the larger caves, barely noticeable, but very likely living.
"Do you think it's Ganor's monster? Or monsters?" Kahlan asked.
"Could be," Cara replied, "though the man was mad enough to have run from an enraged deer. Whatever it is, it's in perfect position. The only way through is along that path, and all it has to do is snatch a walker from the side of the mountain."
"You know," Kahlan mused, "there are legends about this part of the mountains-old wives' tales, really. They say that there are two monsters who haunt the Valen Peaks, working together to trap hapless travelers. One mans the mountain and tosses strangers to the one below, who eats them up and spits out their bones."
Cara turned in her horse to stare disbelievingly at Kahlan. "And you did not think to mention this earlier?"
"I thought it was only a story," Kahlan responded defensively, tone pitched high in indignation.
Adai snorted. "Whatever it is, we're going to have to face it. Either that, or we'll have to backtrack and go east before heading back south."
"That would take days," Kahlan answered immediately, her voice grown hard and dismissive. "We can't waste any more time."
"Then we go down," Adai said with a shrug. "I would not have liked backing from a fight anyway."
Cara wheeled her horse to follow Adai's, making sure her smile was only a memory by the time they rejoined the rest of the Mord'Sith. "We're going down the embankment," Cara told them, a statement and an order rolled into one. "We'll have to leave the horses here. There's something down there in a cave, and it will probably try to kill us. Those of you with bows and arrows and bladed weapons-I suggest you prepare them."
There was an immediate rustling and clanking of women dismounting, pulling off supplies, gathering weapons. Cara slid off her horse and began to unbuckle her saddlebags. They were made by Aydindril leatherworkers, and were designed to convert easily to a bag with straps that could be slung across her back. Cara checked to make sure she had everything she needed and nothing more, and then she turned to her horse. Pitching her voice low so none of the others could hear, she said,
"This is where I leave you. I hope you find a nice filly and have lots of disagreeable, ill-tempered foals." She felt her face going red as she said the words, but this horse had been more loyal than most humans she knew, and he deserved better than abandonment in some spirits-forsaken mountain pass, leagues from home. The horse gently butted its nose against Cara's chest, recognizing her tone and dutifully expecting treats. Sighing, Cara dug through her saddlebag and pulled out a handful of dried apple chips. She held them out and in an instant they were gone from her hand, replaced by the slobbery trail of her horse's lipping. Shaking her head ruefully, she gave her horse a quick slap on its neck and turned to join Kahlan at the edge of the embankment.
Soon after, the rest of the Mord'Sith company joined them, and they began to make their way cautiously down the steep path, thirteen pairs of eyes on the lookout for any sudden movement from the cave thirty feet below. When they reached level ground again. Cara surveyed the land before them. The path continued fifty feet ahead of them, cutting sharply and steeply into the side of the mountain and winding along its outer rim, eventually disappearing around a bend. The entrance to the path was only a few steps away from the entrance to the cave-now dark with no sign of motion-and Cara somehow expected this close proximity was no coincidence.
"See anything suspicious?" Adai asked, squinting as if this would provide her with vision into the pitch-black interior of the cave.
"Yes," Cara responded shortly. "A dark cave spacious enough for something large, and a collection of white sticks near its entrance that look suspiciously like bones."
"Hmm," Adai remarked, tilting her head to contemplate the white glints they could barely make out. Then she turned to Cara and Kahlan, eyebrow lifted. "Hard to fight what we can't see." Cara nodded and wordlessly drew her bow from her back. She smoothly knocked an arrow, adjusted her bow so the arrow pointed towards the sinking sun, and gazed along the length of the shaft. Then she released, watching in satisfaction as the arrow arced upward, arrowhead glinting as the sun just caught it, then plummeted down to be swallowed up by blackness of the entrance of the cave.
There was stillness, and then it came.
It was not a possible thing. It had far too many heads-five-seven-six-writhing too fast to count, its sheer fury palpable as it did not so much emerge as simply appear on the terrain before them, six sets of needle-sharp teeth gnashing at the air, six gaping holes serving as noses questing out their scent, twenty feet of sheer horror. The eyes were barely slits in the grotesque mockeries of faces-scales that once shone in the sun dulled by a life lived skulking in a cave, jaws discolored by whatever gore and blood still matted them. Necks whipping back and forth like snakes, corded muscles straining against mottled brown-and-grey skin and scales. Body lean except where its stomach bulged-like a snake again here, Cara noted unconsciously, still digesting its meal: Ganor's people.
They did not act, only reacted. The stench hit them like a blow and the monster nearly flowed towards them, and then one head had snapped out and a Mord'Sith was screaming, and Mord'Sith do not scream, unless a beast has nearly ripped her arm off with one-sixth of its heads. But Mord'Sith have weathered human depravity again and again, and even this beast could not match that, so soon its heads were snapping back and forth, almost entangling with each other, as it strove to avoid swords and knives and the humming agiels that leached through its scales to dig into flesh and settle pain among sinew and bone.
Cara saw Kahlan dart around the beast's side, narrowly avoiding the snap of a set of jaws. She rolled under the thing's belly-miraculously, impossibly-and plunged both knives in its soft flesh, before rolling out again just as a head curled under its chest to snap at where she had just been. Cara was already upon it, agiels seeking out eyes and noses and anything soft. She saw it take a blow from a Mord'Sith sword, saw one head part from the neck, saw the other five scream with fury and retaliate by ripping the Mord'Sith nearly in half.
Cara blinked, and then Adai was beside her, breathing hard, black ichor on the blade she held in her left hand, counter to the agiel in her right. "You two have to go," Adai said lowly, eyes never leaving the beast's writhing movements as it was momentarily kept at bay by the rest. "We'll distract it, and by Rahl's name we'll kill it. But just in case…" She let her eyes leave the scene before them and flashed Cara one of the few full smiles she had ever seen on the woman. It was as fierce and feral as she had imagined it would be. "Go."
Words weren't the domain for either of them, so Cara only nodded, meeting the other woman's eyes for just a moment, and then turned to find Kahlan. The Confessor seemed poised to make another run at the beast, perhaps hoping another thrust from her already-dripping knives would have more effect. "Kahlan," Cara said sharply, reaching out to tug on her arm. Kahlan spun towards her, eyes intent and flecked with hot energy. "We need to go. Adai and the rest will hold it off while we go up the path."
Kahlan glanced back at the monster. Despite the one headless neck that drooped like a wet rope, its bloody end dragging across the rocky ground as the monster darted left and right, the beast seemed to be barely suffering. Kahlan looked back at Cara and nodded. And then they were sprinting towards the path, eating up the final feet and then beginning to feel the steep ascent on their calves. Cara led the way, and neither looked behind, though they could hear the sound of shouts, screams both human and inhuman, flesh meeting hard things. There was a moment, only a few feet up, when Cara felt it, and she turned her head over her shoulder to see the thing straining up towards them, undulating necks stretching out, jaws snapping just below her feet. But then it recoiled, struck lower down on its body by an agiel, and Cara returned her attention to the climb.
As the path got narrower, until Cara's body was pressed flush against the rock face, rock digging into her cheek, she muttered to Kahlan over her shoulder, "I hope that man really was mad, and there was only the one monster. Because I am nothing if not intrinsically optimistic-" she heard Kahlan's snort carried to her by the wind, "-but if something comes around this bend, we will die."
"This is the monster," Kahlan responded as Cara heard the shuffle of her feet on the fine gravel behind her. "Ganor said only one was real-that one below, the one who 'eats six men and spits them out.'" This cursed path is the one that 'casts them down' so that thing below can eat whatever plummets downwards."
"Spirits, I hate epithets," Cara muttered, before returning her attention to the thin line of gravel before her.
It seemed to take them forever, and by the time they had rounded their third twist in the mountain path, Cara could feel the tips of her fingers blistering through her gloves from where they clutched onto the bare indentations of the rock face, and she imagined Kahlan must be faring much worse. But eventually she noticed the path becoming wider, the turns less frequent, and soon enough there was room on the path for her to walk facing forward, though there was not yet room to walk two-by-two. Another hundred feet and the path widened into a proper trail, and she felt Kahlan's presence at her side. The path dipped into an actual clearing, and without speaking, she and Kahlan flung themselves down on the ground, limbs flopping weakly, eyes staring up at the blue-grey sky as their muscles shrieked for relief.
Cara wasn't sure how long they lay there, not speaking. Eventually, she felt Kahlan stir, and Cara laboriously rose to her feet. "We have another few hours of daylight," Kahlan said, standing to squint at the rapidly-receding sun. "If we can find another clearing along the way, we can settle down for the night." Cara nodded and bent to pick up her shoulder pack, wincing as tight muscles strained. The path remained wide, so they walked side-by-side, though they didn't speak for some time.
Finally, Kahlan broke the silence: "I'm sure she made it."
Cara shrugged. "She has faced worse. I do not envy any of that thing's ugly heads, after Adai is done with it."
Kahlan chuckled, and they walked on in silence until the path opened up into a blessedly wide clearing, and they prepared to settle down for the night.
11
After a few days, the mountains evened out to hills, and soon they were back in wooded areas. Cara found that she did not recognize all the trees in these woods, nor all the birds that lived in them and raised a terrible din whenever Cara and Kahlan entered their territory. Luckily, southern birds tasted just as good as northern ones did.
During those first few days in the Old Kingdom, the only people they saw were at a distance. After a short while, though, they began to see signs of habitation-isolated homes that eventually evolved into tiny villages. There did not appear to be any distinctive clothing differences among these southerners, so Kahlan and Cara weren't particularly concerned with being discovered as foreign invaders.
After their third day of walking along a forest path, and the fifth time that day that Cara had shaken a stone from her boot, she released a frustrated growl. "We need horses. This is ridiculous."
"I know," Kahlan answered with a sigh. "But we don't have any currency to buy them."
"I wasn't talking about buying," Cara retorted, smacking a mosquito that had alighted on her neck.
"We can't steal horses from an innocent family," Kahlan protested.
"No one's innocent, Kahlan," Cara replied, giving her a withering look. "But if you're really that concerned, I guarantee you that I can find some bad, bad men at this next village that even you wouldn't mind stealing horses from."
"Fine," Kahlan replied, and Cara suspected most of her acquiescence was due to the days they were losing by traveling on foot, not any expectation that Cara would find her evil victims.
In fact, it was not so hard to find bad men, as Cara had known all along. At the very next village they came to, they entered the bustling streets and immediately heard the wailing cries of a man being carelessly beaten by what appeared to be a nobleman. From what they could tell, the commoner's livestock had accidentally become entangled with the nobleman's procession.
"Some traits are apparently universal," Cara remarked wryly. Kahlan's eyes were hard, and she clearly wished this incident had occurred where she had jurisdiction to punish. "Come on," Cara said, rolling her eyes and tugging at Kahlan's arm. "There are subtler ways."
They surreptitiously followed the man and found where he lived. That night, the two of them took out the nobleman's guards (which Cara haughtily described as incompetent) and stole two horses, as well as the supplies they found in the barn. As a distraction against pursuit (and out of spite) they let all of the nobleman's horses loose as well.
They galloped away from the village, the adrenaline of triumph making Cara want to whoop her excitement. She could feel Kahlan's pleasure too, could see her grin as she bent low over the neck of her newly-stolen steed. There was a moment, after they slowed down to a trot, when she saw Kahlan's smile fade, and Cara could almost see Kahlan's thought process as she moved from excitement to guilt at that excitement.
"We are doing everything we can, as fast as we can," Cara told the other woman, doing her best to forestall any further slipping. "We did good today-we can enjoy that."
Kahlan nodded, and while there was no recapturing that previous feeling of elation, she couldn't help chuckling when Cara began to muse over just what kind of reaction the Southern nobleman would have when he discovered his loss.
*****
Traveling like this, just the two of them, was both familiar and strangely new. They had been alone together many times-had faced gars together, resurrected species together, nearly died together (more than once). But those circumstances were always deviations from a larger quest, one that had never really belonged to either of them. Now, everything they did had a driving, forward motion, though where it would all end neither of them could say.
They fell into a rhythm that had been building throughout their journey, one that became as comfortable and accepted as breathing. They woke, shared the terse, idle words of morning, and then rode. When it was cold, they shared a bedroll. Some nights, Cara would wake with Kahlan curled against her, hand loosely clutching at Cara's tunic and troubled lines creasing her still-sleeping face. When Cara opened a gash in her arm after her horse threw her, Kahlan calmly bandaged it, teasing Cara about her clumsiness, only grinning wider at Cara's indignant scowl. When Kahlan became restless at their pace, as she often did, and the need to speak became too strong, Cara listened.
They spoke often, or at least what counted as often to Cara. Whenever the conversation drifted to the past, they had an unspoken agreement to restrict their reminisces to those first few years, when it was just the two of them, Richard, and Zedd, and to the times they had been together in the seven years that followed. Kahlan didn't speak of whatever recent troubles she was having with Richard, and on the occasions when Cara volunteered information, she didn't speak of those later years. Sometimes, Cara could feel Kahlan on the brink of asking her more, of forcing the unspoken out. Kahlan always pulled back after tentative hints about the past, but Cara couldn't help but notice her hints were becoming more frequent.
Occasionally, Kahlan talked about Erin. Cara suspected she would have spoken even more about the child if she wasn't so worried that she was somehow imposing on Cara when she did. Once, early on, Kahlan expressed this concern out loud, when a chance encounter with a village child and her scolding mother led her to speak half-fondly, half-haltingly about Erin's most recent escapades with John the scullery boy. The smile on her lips that the memory conjured faded, and she shook her head, casting an apologetic look at Cara. "I'm sorry. I know this is the kind of thing you hate."
Cara sniffed superciliously. "If you begin to speak in that insufferable baby-talk you employed when she was first born, then yes, I will probably murder you and continue this quest by myself." This startled a laugh out of Kahlan. Cara hesitated, and her next words came slower, as if they were being pulled from her. "I know that I did not see her very often, when she was older. I became…busy, and children are not really my area of expertise." Kahlan snorted, and Cara glared at her before continuing. "But I am not…unfond of her. I am not here just because Richard required it, or because you needed me, or because Rahl needs to be killed more emphatically. I would like to see Erin back at Aydindril, and I would not particularly mind killing everyone who was involved with taking her away."
"As would I," Kahlan replied, her expression holding a sinister fierceness that Cara knew well. The expression faded, and Kahlan smiled at her. "I will try to limit my reminisces nonetheless, and I promise no baby-talk. Really, though, I only used it for a week-her vocabulary is excellent now, I'll have you know."
Cara's expression was dubious. "If I recall, 'no' her favorite word last time I saw her at Aydindril."
Kahlan smiled fondly, eyes a little distant. "She can be willful. I can't imagine where she got that from." She shook her head in amusement, but then her expression became hesitant. "You know, when I told Dietmar that we didn't know if Erin had Confessor powers, I wasn't really telling the truth." Cara raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Kahlan continued. "There's a test for potential Confessors, one that doesn't require the Confessing of a human being. I had to explain to Erin how to Confess, first: how it feels to fill your body with your will, until it…" she paused, her eyes narrowing as she sought out the proper word, "…pulses from your skin. I had to explain how to focus on someone and let that willpower flow from your fingertips, your eyes, your breath. I had to explain what it's like to use that power to control someone else and bend them to your will. She was a little confused at first." Kahlan let out a slight laugh, half amusement, half self-consciousness. "Of course, I didn't explain it in quite those terms, and I didn't tell her what it was-she thought it was some kind of game. I had her focus her attention on one of her toys-Duke Fernando, actually." She looked at Cara, and Cara winced in embarrassment. Kahlan's amused expression became more serious. "I saw the power fill her, saw her eyes go dark. The Confessor power went away after a moment, of course-you can't Confess a stuffed animal. I know Erin felt it, though. You never forget your first Confession, even a half Confession like that. I told her to remember how it felt, but never to tell anyone unless I told her to, and never, ever to try it on another person." Kahlan went silent, her thoughts far in the past.
"Did you tell Richard?" Cara found herself asking, unsure of why she asked.
"No," Kahlan answered, guilt flashing across her face. "I would have, eventually. But I think…I think part of him doesn't want her to be a Confessor. He's never said that," Kahlan amended hurriedly, seeing the way Cara narrowed her eyes, "but he knows as well as I do that it can be a curse. And he knows that it will be hard for her to love."
"You managed," Cara pointed out dryly. "I can't stop at a tavern these days without hearing some beardless minstrel crooning about the great love between the Seeker and the Mother Confessor, a love so great it conquered the most powerful of magics."
"I swear, I should have smacked Zedd the day he started all that talk of magical love," Kahlan said, grimacing. "Sometimes Zedd lets his flair for the dramatic get away from him. Sometimes I think he's more invested in our relationship than we ever were."
"I think he may have actually written some of the songs they sing about you," Cara suggested, pursing her lips.
Kahlan laughed. "He's an old man. He needs a hobby besides lighting people on fire. I do wish he had explained it to the common people as simply as he later explained it to me: Confession works by causing the Confessed to fall in love with the Confessor. I already loved Richard, and he loved me. There was nothing to Confess."
"And can't Erin find the same?" Cara asked, feeling vaguely that this conversation was better suited for schoolgirls and gossiping wives, not a Mord'Sith of her stature.
"I hope," Kahlan said softly. "But I hate that she will risk everything if she thinks she's fallen in love. And even if she does find someone to love her that way, what happens if it…" Kahlan swallowed, and she didn't meet Cara's eyes, "…if it fades? Love is complicated. So is magic." She shook her head. "Young girls think they are in love and loved all the time, and taking a person's soul is a hard way to learn you were wrong."
Cara nodded, and for a moment they simply rode in silence, the forest road quiet except for the occasional lark call.
"And what do you want for her?" Cara finally asked, because she wanted to know.
"I want her to be strong," Kahlan answered simply, before shrugging her shoulders and elaborating. "I want her to be powerful, in whatever way she can. I know she can do great things, and do great good. I just…want her to have a childhood first, not like-"
"Not like us," Cara finished, and Kahlan nodded.
Sharp and unbidden, Cara's mind flashed to a tenth birthday spent learning the anatomy of the hand: how to break and rebreak fingers, how to apply the least pressure to the greatest effect, how to tell when screams of pain were loud enough. She imagined Kahlan's was spent Confessing innocent villagers at her father's bidding, watching their personalities drain from them like so much river run-off. She wondered briefly how Kahlan had come out of all of it devoted to good, and she had come out of it devoted only to pain.
Uncomfortable with this much conversation, and on this subject, Cara shook her head, and let her voice became biting. "I would not concern yourself with her future. If Richard could muddle his way through life and end up the Lord of all D'Hara, I am confident Erin will one day be overseeing empires. She is a good deal more intelligent than her father."
Kahlan laughed, and her gratitude was unspoken in the look she cast Cara. Neither mentioned that their speculation was useless if they never found the girl.
12
The weather became colder, and one day, things became bad.
It had been a long time building. The trouble began when they came close to stumbling upon an entire company of southern soldiers, and only Kahlan's alertness prevented them from cantering into the enemy camp. The soldiers were not bothering with much of a guard, as a company fifty-strong had very little to fear, so they did not catch sight of the interlopers. But the road their camp was stretched across was the main road south, as Kahlan had learned after inquiring at a local village. The soldiers' presence forced Cara and Kahlan to backtrack and circle around to a side path, one that was much less direct.
Cara could feel Kahlan's frustration rise in her; she felt it too. But in Kahlan, this frustration was sharper, and Cara found herself on edge, waiting for Kahlan to slip back into the raging intensity that had marked the early portion of their journey. Kahlan woke each morning with a heightened ferocity, her words becoming shorter as the days passed. Cara simply waited.
After they finally rejoined the main path, they hit a string of bad luck, so much so that Cara began to suspect they had been cursed. Cara's horse threw a shoe, and the nearest blacksmith was miles distant, villages growing increasingly scarce as the landscape became bleaker and the weather more biting. For once, Cara was the calm one, waiting for the blacksmith to fit the shoe while Kahlan paced back and forth, hands twisting against each other, barely containing her urge to Confess the blacksmith to work faster.
Then, the first snow appeared one morning, unbidden and unwanted. Cara remembered that she liked snow, but soon forgot this predilection when the petal-like, gently floating flakes turned into heavy, relentless slush, until the two of them were squinting into a wall of white, their horses shivering between their thighs.
It was after three days of this unending downfall-three days of walking on foot while guiding their horses, three days of trying to sleep at night while huddled under barely-sheltering outcrops, three days of Kahlan insisting they ride on to make up for lost time-when they stumbled upon a cave and Cara shoved Kahlan inside, yanking their horses so they would follow.
Immediately, Kahlan turned on Cara, her eyes hot with anger and something far stronger than impatience. They were both soaked, fresh flakes already beginning to melt and mingle with the ones that had wormed their way into their clothing. Kahlan was shivering, as she had been for days, but she didn't seem to notice. Her attention was only for Cara, who stood calmly, glad that at least her anticipation would finally be resolved.
"What are you doing?" Kahlan demanded, an almost mad accusation tickling at the edge of her voice. Her angry breaths made little puffs of condensation in the air. "It's only midday-we can ride for at least another few hours before we make camp."
"No, we can't," Cara insisted, glaring back at Kahlan. "We're losing as much time getting lost in this cursed snow as we will if we rest for the evening. We both need rest. The blizzard may have cleared up by tomorrow, and we can make up for lost time then."
"I don't need rest," Kahlan retorted angrily, though the tremor that ran through her body argued otherwise. "This is typical," she sneered, something ugly entering her eyes. "You are there, full-body, full-spirit, only so long as you wish, and then you are gone."
"What do you mean by that?" Cara asked sharply, sensing they were entering a path she would rather not.
"Only that you clearly don't care about Erin. You're here because Richard commanded you to be here; otherwise you wouldn't stop."
"He is the Lord Rahl," Cara said, gritting her teeth. "It is my duty to do as he commands. And I told you before-he is not the only reason I am here."
Kahlan laughed, a raw sound to match the look on her face. "Richard claps, and you follow, like always. But where are you when I need you?"
"Stop speaking in riddles," Cara snapped, her eyes hard as they met Kahlan's, which were flecked with hot anger and something else. "Say what you mean to say."
"Fine," Kahlan said flatly, her expression almost dead of emotion. Cara suddenly realized she was not sure she wanted to know what Kahlan would say. "After we defeated the Keeper, after we all helped establish order at Aydindril and the People's Palace, you just left. And don't tell me you had duties-I know those first years were busy, trying to ensure loyalty to Richard and truces when you could not. I know there was work to do. But you could have come back more, especially after the war. You were needed."
"What did you expect me to do?" Cara bit out. She had not intended this anger to rise in her, but she was tired, and cold, and her barriers had been beaten down slowly with time; Kahlan's words were doing their best to make them crumble. "Did you want me to abandon my responsibilities so we could gossip like schoolgirls, marvel over your child and your domestic bliss with Richard?"
"Domestic bliss?" Kahlan nearly coughed out, her eyes suddenly seeming more wild, lit only by the flickering white light from outside the cave. "If you had come back more, you might have seen what happens to domestic bliss when a war rips your land apart; when you and your husband spend more time quelling rebellions than seeing each other; when you go for half a year," she swallowed hard, eyes bright, "without seeing your daughter or husband, because a monster in red decided he hasn't torn your life apart enough, and decides to place an army between you and your home. You weren't there to see how things changed." She shook her head, and when she looked at Cara, there was both anger and desperation in her eyes. "I thought we had become friends, but you were only there when we needed your agiels. I needed you. Where were you?"
"Where was I?" Cara answered, her voice low and dangerous. "Do not ask questions you don't want answered."
"Don't do that, Cara," Kahlan nearly spat in disgust. "Don't deflect, don't shroud everything like you're some mystery to be solved."
"Fine," Cara said, and a mirthless smile traced her lips. "You know what I was doing that first year when you and Richard barely left the People's Palace, so in love were you? I fought, and I killed, and I pulled the kingdoms together. I bent the Mord'Sith to my will, and welded the D'Harans to Richard, those who no longer followed Rahl. I crossed from North to South, East to West so many times, I knew the roads better than the stays of my leather. I became a general for you-forged an army out of groups who would rather kill each other than fight together. I did all of this so that you and Richard could be together, have the life you always prattled on about." Cara laughed, but there was something sick in it. She felt words flowing from her, unstoppable, like poison. " Of course, it didn't matter, in the end. Rahl came back, and you went East, Richard West. When it was all over, I had to do it again-quell rebellions and clean up your mess, like I've always done. You don't know the things I had to do, the things I kept away from Richard's pure ears, just to hold the land together." Her voice was mocking, and by now she didn't even know if she meant everything she said. "It's not my fault that you two squandered it all. It's not my fault that it took a war for you to realize that you can't balance duty and love. Do you think Rahl would have gained so much power, if you two had been more focused on your lands? And it's not my fault that the brat was stolen right from under your nose-maybe if you hadn't become so comfortable, it never would have happened."
Hardly had these last, sneering words left Cara's mouth than Kahlan was upon her, hand slamming against Cara's throat and the momentum of her body ramming Cara against the cave wall. Cara felt sharp rock dig into her back, felt a jagged slab punch through her leather and just nick the skin, felt Kahlan's hand tighten around her throat. Kahlan was breathing hard, her wet, heavy hair framing eyes that were suddenly savage as they looked into Cara's. Cara could hardly breath around Kahlan's hand, and when she spoke, it came out as a croak.
"Are you going to Confess me, Confessor?" And she felt a nearly hysterical laughter bubbling up in her, escaping as a single, humorless sound. At Cara's words, something, maybe doubt, flickered across Kahlan's expression.
"I can't," she gritted, her grip loosening almost imperceptibly.
"Why not?" Cara taunted. "Afraid you'll have no one else to blame if you kill me?"
"No," Kahlan answered with quiet intensity, her eyes searching Cara's. "I can't. I tried, when I was in the Con Dar, back at the People's Palace. I felt the power fill me but…I couldn't Confess you."
Cara's eyes went wide, but she resisted understanding, instead holding onto her mocking smile for dear life. "Maybe you were only waiting for the right moment, in the middle of a blizzard, when you could go into hysterics and-"
Kahlan's lips-hot, wet, and hungry-stopped her words.
There was no finesse to this contact, only a kind of brutal need as Kahlan thrust her lips against Cara's. Without thinking, Cara kissed her back, hard enough to leave a mark. Cara forced her tongue into Kahlan's mouth, feeling Kahlan's sharp intake of breath against her lips. Kahlan uncurled her hand from Cara's throat and slipped her arm around Cara's waist, yanking her to her tight so they were breast-to-breast, hipbone-to-hipbone. Cara used the momentum and swung Kahlan around, slamming her back into the wall. Kahlan gasped in pain and their lips parted for a moment, but Cara used this opening to bring their faces together again and slip her tongue back into Kahlan's mouth, their teeth nearly grinding together with their insistence.
Cara's skin was hot, her mind and body feverish. She could feel adrenaline and sheer need coursing through her blood, filling her up like the pulse of her agiel. She didn't let herself think. Her fingers tore at the coat Kahlan wore, and Kahlan hastily moved from the wall so she could help Cara rip it off, her own hands trembling with barely-contained desire. Then Cara's fingers were scrabbling at the ties of Kahlan's dress, and her lips pressed into Kahlan's throat again and again, tasting melted snow and sweat and Kahlan. She kissed her throat again, higher up, then again, finally licking a trail just at the crease of Kahlan's neck. She heard Kahlan release a slight moan when Cara bit the skin hard enough to bruise, and when Cara's hand slipped into the bodice of Kahlan's dress, over the soft flesh of her breast, she could feel Kahlan's heart beating as quickly as her own.
Cara felt warmth and wetness where her legs met, and an ache begin to build in her belly. The heat of their bodies and breaths overpowered the cold around them, and Cara wondered for a moment if she was only imagining this, because it could not be real.
She looked up from Kahlan's pale throat, her hips and legs still pressed tightly against Kahlan's. Kahlan gazed back at her, her breathing coming in sharp gasps, her eyes hooded with too many things to name.
"Cara," she said once, the word coming out as a plea. It was like a flare of wizard's fire cutting through the fog of Cara's mind. She finally looked at Kahlan, at her still-damp hair, loose and wild around her face, her cheeks hollowed after weeks of hard travel, her expression of want and loss and doubt and need. Cara swallowed, and then took a step back, sliding her hand out from Kahlan's dress.
"We can't," Cara said, her voice hoarse in her own ears. "I shouldn't. I-" Kahlan looked suddenly lost, and smaller, and Cara couldn't take it. She shook her head once, fiercely, and then turned, nearly fleeing from the cave.
She staggered outside, into driving wind that slammed into her, almost made her fall to her knees. She could barely see, and the cold seemed somehow wrong to a body that felt like it was on fire. She stumbled along the outer rockface and suddenly found that the wind had abated. She looked around and realized she had blundered into a shallow cave, hardly big enough for one person to stand. She almost gasped her relief, and immediately she sank down, her back against the slightly curving wall.
Not allowing herself to think, she removed her glove, feeling the chill nip at her fingers. Before her fingers could go numb, she tore at the ties of her leathers until she could slip a hand down her belly, finding the flesh there slick and waiting. There was no gentleness to her rough, insistent movements. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, imagining that it was Kahlan's fingers, Kahlan's tongue on her. As her hips began to jerk, she flashed to the plea in Kahlan's eyes, and her cries of release were lost in the wind.
*****
When Cara returned to the cave, she was immediately met by the smell of smoke. Kahlan was kneeling by a small fire, feeding it kindling. When Cara stepped inside, Kahlan looked up, and her worried face suddenly smoothed with relief. She stood slowly to her feet, looking hesitantly at Cara. Cara noticed a bruise blossoming on Kahlan's neck, where she had bitten her.
Cara paused, but then strode inside. "Where did you find the wood?" she asked abruptly.
"There was a pile in the back corner," Kahlan answered, eyes flicking back towards the flames. "Someone else must have used this cave as shelter and left the wood behind."
Cara nodded and moved their saddlebags, shaking off some of the snow that coated her as she did so. She began to pull out some feed for the horses, some dried food for the two of them, and their sleeping rolls.
"Cara-" came Kahlan's voice from over her shoulder, her entreating tone tugging at Cara more than any hand could. Cara sighed and turned around to meet blue eyes. "We should talk…" Kahlan continued, swallowing.
"It's fine," Cara said brusquely.
"You don't want to talk about this?" Kahlan asked, her brow furrowing.
"Do I ever want to talk about things? Besides, look where talking got us last time," Cara answered wryly, and she saw Kahlan's lips twitch. Then Cara shrugged. "It happened. It won't happen again. I am willing to blame it on the weather and the journey if you are."
Kahlan looked like she wanted to say more, but then she simply nodded. "Fine. But if you do want to talk-"
"I won't," Cara interrupted shortly. "Now, we have some bullion left and a few dried herbs-I suggest we make soup to go with our bread."
After they had eaten the last of the only mildly flavorful soup and had rebuilt the fire, it came time to prepare for sleep. Normally, there would be no question of sleeping arrangements-even with the fire and several thick blankets, the cave was cold, and the only sensible decision was to share body heat. Yet Kahlan paused before lying down, casting a hesitant look at Cara.
Cara rolled her eyes. "Look, if you promise to neither kill me nor kiss me, I will do the same. I refuse to shiver through the night because you have some misplaced sense of embarrassment."
Kahlan looked like she couldn't decide whether to laugh or scowl. She settled for a slight smile and a shrug. "You're right." She sank to her knees and then slipped under one of the coverlets, curling so her back was to Cara. Cara shucked off her boots and then slid in beside Kahlan, pulling her extra blanket over the two of them. At first, Cara lay flat on her back, feeling Kahlan's warmth only at her left side. But then her ears began to grow cold, and she decided to stop being ridiculous. Wordlessly, she rolled onto her side and wrapped an arm around Kahlan, pressing her body to the other woman's curves so they could both receive the most warmth. Neither said anything, and Cara was sure she only imagined that Kahlan's heart thumped against her chest faster than usual.
Kahlan's hair, dry now, tickled against Cara's forehead, and Cara found herself wanting to run a hand across the smooth skin of her arm. Cara barely repressed an irritated growl that began rumbling in her chest, reminding her that she was being a fool.
Kahlan shifted slightly. "I'm sorry, Cara," she whispered.
"Shut up, Kahlan," was all Cara said, though she said the words with unusual gentleness.
Cara was a Mord'Sith, and Mord'Sith know how to sleep through even the greatest distractions, when they need to. She did not know when Kahlan fell asleep, but Cara soon found herself slipping into a dreamless slumber.
13
When they woke, the blizzard had passed.
They stepped outside into a world draped in white, all sound muffled by the heavy blanket of snow. It took some time to make their way through the thick layers of snow, but once they got back on the main path, they found that the thick canopy of trees arching over the road had kept the path's snow to a manageable level. Of course, the snow that had landed on treetops weighed down on them, and more than once Cara found herself cursing when a branch buckled under the weight, dumping its slushy load directly on her head. Somehow, Kahlan managed to avoid the same fate, and Cara's glares only made her laugh harder.
These moments of levity were welcome, because there was no doubt that a distance had sprung up between them. Cara hated the skittish feeling she was suddenly experiencing, the unfamiliar doubt that plagued each word she shared with Kahlan. Luckily, they had to concentrate enough on the path that there was little time for long conversation.
Throughout their journey, they had kept up with the progress back home via journey book. Though Aydindril, the People's Palace, and the Southern Keep were all holding their own, every week saw the addition of new troops from the Old Kingdom. The day after the incident at the cave, they received a message from Zedd instructing them to prepare a Seer's Fire that night. They were only able to bring enough supplies for one such fire on their journey, so they were both aware of the importance of Zedd's message as they set up camp for the night.
After eating and settling the horses, Kahlan prepared the powders and spoke the incantation. She and Cara then sat side-by-side facing the fire, waiting. Only moments later, the fire flared up, flames licking ten feet in the air in a flash of brilliant blues and emerald greens, before dying back down again. When the sparks subsided, Zedd stood in the flames.
He looked a bit more worn, but much the way he always did-his slightly rumpled clothes covered his tall, lanky frame, and his face lit up when he saw them. Cara was surprised at how good it felt to see the old man.
"Kahlan, Cara!" Zedd exclaimed. "It's good to see you!"
"It's good to see you too, Zedd," Kahlan said warmly. "How is everything?"
Zedd's face fell a bit, but his tone was still cheerful. "Hard, as is to be expected. But the people have rallied around Richard again, and I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve they won't be expecting. Best of all, I've got news on Rahl."
Cara felt rather than saw Kahlan's body tense with excitement. "What did you find out?" Kahlan asked eagerly.
"Quite a bit," Zedd admitted. "It took a terrible amount of research-many musty tombs and ancient scrolls. Also a lot of threatening captured members of Rahl's troops." Cara frowned, sorry she had missed out on the intimidation. "I've discovered how Rahl came back, and how he's able to transport all these troops north. Well, I've partially discovered it," Zedd amended. "He's in league with the Keeper."
"Again?" Cara exclaimed indignantly. "I thought we took care of the Keeper."
"You can't just 'take care' of the Keeper, Cara," Zedd replied sternly, and Cara scowled. "He is the lord of the underworld-that will never change. He may not be able to enter our world, but he still gains power through the souls and suffering of those on earth who eventually enter his hands. Rahl has done the unthinkable to gain new life and new power-he has given the Keeper some part of his soul."
Zedd said this last part sonorously, and Cara suspected she was supposed to be appalled. Instead, she said, "So? Does Rahl even have a soul anymore?"
"Everyone has a soul, Cara," Zedd admonished. "A man without a soul is no man at all. Which, as it turns out, is quite to our benefit."
"What do you mean?" Kahlan asked, lines of concern crinkling her brow.
"Rahl became immune to Confession years and years ago, his soul protected from it by the potion his wizard extracted from you." Cara glanced at Kahlan, whose face had gone hard and tight. Cara hadn't been there when Rahl had captured Kahlan, but she had heard about it. "But Rahl's soul has been sundered through his deal with the Keeper."
"So I can Confess him?" Kahlan asked, her face lighting up with sharp anticipation.
"If you can get close enough," Zedd answered, holding up a staying finger. "And there lies the other important information I have. I have a source close to Rahl. His name is Henry Peddlar, a master stonemason, and he owes a debt to me; I rescued his family from death once, years ago. His son later grew ill, and he heard rumors that a cure lay beyond the Valen Mountains. After the war, when companies of Rahl's troops began fleeing south, he went with them, promising they would need his skill at building. And they did-it was he who designed the Keep where Rahl now lives."
"So you know where Rahl is?" Kahlan interrupted eagerly, the light from the flames glancing off her over-bright eyes.
"Not knowing the Old Kingdom's geography, I only know that he lies leagues south of where you are," Zedd answered, "but the compass I made you should continue to guide you there."
"And this man-Peddlar," Cara interjected. "How can he help us?"
"He can get you into Rahl's keep," Zedd answered gravely. "He designed it and helps maintain it; he is well-known and trusted. He also knows where Rahl keeps several amulets of powerful magic that allow him to transport objects and people over great distance. All you must do is find Erin and this amulet, and it will take you back to the People's Palace instantly."
Cara snorted: "all you must do" sounded like a rather tall order. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "And what does Peddlar get out of this?"
Zedd shrugged and smiled magnanimously. "He gets to repay his debt, and lift his guilt at aiding Rahl."
Cara scowled; that did not sound particularly promising. But Kahlan was nodding. '"If you trust him, we trust him," Kahlan said evenly. "And I'm not sure we have any other option."
Suddenly, Zedd jerked and looked over his shoulder, as if someone was speaking to him on his side. He turned back to them, a frown creasing his brow.
"I have to go, I hate to say. But I will send you more details through the journey book." Zedd's eyebrows drew together as he gave them a serious look. "But before I go, I wanted to warn you. From more than one source, I've heard rumors of the land you will soon be crossing. They speak of a race of people-called Whisperers-who feed on memories. They say they can make men forget their homes, their own names even."
Cara regarded Zedd with ill-contained scorn. "We're not children, Zedd, to be scared of a few fairy tales."
Whatever hold Zedd had over his dignified image as a Wizard of the First Order dissolved immediately as he scowled at Cara. "If you were here, Cara, I'd be tempted to box your impertinent ears."
"I'd like to see you try, wizard," Cara said menacingly.
"Enough, you two," Kahlan said, laughing. She addressed Zedd. "We'll be careful, Zedd, I promise."
"Good," Zedd said with a nod, his scowl turning instantly into a grin. "Now I really must go. Richard sends his love."
Kahlan smiled. "Tell him to be safe. And you too."
"Richard is well beyond doing what I tell him to do," Zedd said wryly, "but I will do my best."
And with that, the flames flickered up once more, and Zedd was gone.
*****
They rode on, through weather that became increasingly warm, until each morning saw the earth steaming as the sun drew away the dew of the night before. Cara couldn't help but think there was something strange in this sudden shift in weather patterns. She decided not to question it further, however, because it meant they could, for the first time in a week, bathe in a stream that did not include the occasional ice floe.
The countryside they passed through reminded Cara of the land bordering Aydindril, all grassy, rolling hills interspersed with wooded areas. They had just entered another one of these wooded areas when they came upon a small stream and stopped to water their horses.
Cara dismounted and sank down next to the stream so she could refill her water skin. She stood up and saw Kahlan stretching, arms reaching up towards the sky. Kahlan lowered her arms and cast Cara a wry smile. "I almost forgot how riding for miles can bend you out of shape."
"Too many nights on a feathered bed," Cara suggested in a superior tone, and Kahlan rolled her eyes. Then Kahlan's expression lit up and she walked past Cara towards a tree with low-hanging branches. She reached up and plucked one of the fruits from the tree, giving it a curious sniff. Then she smiled and turned to toss it at Cara. Cara caught it one-handed, frowning at the deep purple sheen of the fruit.
"How long's it been since we had fresh fruit?" Kahlan inquired, lifting an eyebrow. "Everything's been frozen, and most of the supplies we received from those farmers are dried." Kahlan reached up and pulled off a fruit for herself, turning it in her hand before sinking her teeth into its skin. Cara waited a moment to see if Kahlan suddenly started seizing from some unknown toxin, then shrugged and bit into her own.
The fruit was almost overpoweringly sweet, reminding Cara of the sweetfruits of Western Aldrin, only with a greater depth of flavor. Cara could not decide whether its slightly bitter tang was pleasant or not, but she had to admit that eating fresh fruit again felt like a luxury at this point. She finished hers in a few bites and tossed the rind to the grass. She saw Kahlan do the same, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth before bending down to the stream to drink some water.
Cara turned to squint up at the sun. Its rays were particularly bright that day, shooting through the branches of the trees to cast flickering shadows on the forest floor. Cara let her gaze slowly drift to the shadows, which moved and contorted like the objects of some child's shadow games. She furrowed her brow, thinking for a moment that shadows should not move so quickly-she had never seen shadows behave like that. She sank down to her haunches and reached out her fingers to touch one of the shadows, mildly perplexed when her fingers met only grass. Then she lost interest when she heard the soft call of a bird. She stood up and looked into the woods, hearing the sound of every branch rustling, every small animal moving. Her body felt loose, connected yet untethered, and she smiled, observing as the men and women materialized from the woods.
They had a kind of glow around them-reds and yellows and sharp oranges-and Cara had trouble making out their faces, but she didn't really mind. Two of them moved past her and Cara watched as they grabbed the bridles of their horses and began leading them away. Cara noticed Kahlan standing, her arms hung loosely at her side, watching without curiosity as a woman approached her. The woman beckoned for Kahlan to follow, and when Cara turned her head, she realized a man was doing the same to her. Nodding vaguely, Cara began to walk behind the man, noticing with mild curiosity that her feet seemed to make no noise as they landed on the branches and leaves carpeting the forest ground.
They walked for a while, and then they were there. It was a clearing in the woods, and there were houses. People wandered among the buildings, but Cara had trouble focusing on the moving figures. She looked up, into the tall tall trees, and thought she saw more houses in the branches. A smile began to creep its way to her face, but then she heard the man say something and she forgot to finish the expression. She kept walking beside him, into a hut that was dimly lit and littered with pillows. She sat down where the man pointed, and watched as Kahlan entered the hut and came to sit beside her. Kahlan seemed like she was going to say something to Cara, but then a new woman entered the hut. Cara thought she might be old, but it was hard to tell with the glow around her face. The woman held a tray with two cups on it. She set the tray on the ground and handed one cup to Cara, one to Kahlan. Without even thinking, Cara took a sip of the drink. It was hot, and it tasted like the fruit they had eaten earlier, but stronger. She almost gagged at the overpowering sweetness, but somehow found herself draining the whole cup instead. She looked over and saw Kahlan do the same.
Cara opened her mouth, feeling that there was something important she needed to say to Kahlan, something that couldn't wait. She lifted her hand up to reach for the other woman, but then let it fall back to her side. She closed her eyes.
Part 5