Wizard's First Rule (118 page)

Zedd wept as he recalled the time he had enjoyed with Richard. They had been good years. None had been better in his life. The years away from the magic. To have someone love him without fear, and only for himself. To be a friend.

Richard read out the book without hesitation or a single falter. Zedd marveled that he knew it so perfectly, and caught himself being proud, but then wished Richard weren’t so talented. Much of what he recited was about things already finished with, such as removing the covers from the boxes, but Darken Rahl didn’t stop him or hurry him over those sections for fear that he might miss something. He let Richard recite it at his own pace, and stood mute, listening carefully. Occasionally, Rahl had him repeat a section, to be sure he had it right, and stood absorbed in thought as Richard told of sun angles, of clouds, of wind patterns.

The afternoon wore on, Richard reciting, Rahl standing before him listening, Michael with a knife at Kahlan’s throat, the two guards holding her arms, Chase frozen in place, his hand halfway to his sword, and Zedd sitting on the ground, doomed, locked in his invisible prison. Zedd realized that the procedure for opening the boxes was going to take longer than he would have thought. It would take all night. There were enchantments to be drawn. That was the reason Darken Rahl needed so much sorcerer’s sand. The boxes had to be placed just so, the winter’s first sun touching them, dictating their position once they each cast a shadow.

Each box, although they looked identical, cast a different shadow. As the sun sank lower in the sky, the fingers of shadows grew away from each box. One of the boxes cast a single finger of shadow, another cast two fingers of shadow, and the third cast three. Now he knew why it was called the Book of Counted Shadows.

At the proper places in the book. Darken Rahl had Richard stop while the enchantments were drawn in the sorcerer’s sand. Some of the spells were called by names Zedd had never heard before. But Rahl had. He drew without hesitation. When darkness fell, he lit torches in a ring around the sand. Under the light of the torches, he drew the enchantments as they were called for. Everyone stood in silence, watching as he carefully drew in the sand. Zedd was impressed by his level of skill at drawing the charms, and was more than a little uneasy at seeing underworld runes.

The geometric patterns were complex, and Zedd knew they must be done without error, and in the proper order, each line drawn at the proper time, in the proper sequence. They could not be corrected or erased and started over if there was a mistake. A mistake was death.

Zedd had known wizards who had spent years studying a spell before they would dare to attempt drawing it in sorcerer’s sand, for fear of making a fatal mistake. Darken Rahl didn’t look to be having the slightest trouble. His steady hand moved with precision. Zedd had never seen a wizard of his talents. At least, he thought bitterly, they would be killed by the best. He couldn’t help admiring the level of mastery. It was a magnitude of proficiency he had never witnessed before.

All of this endeavor was simply to tell which box was the one Rahl wanted; he could open one at any time, the book stated. Zedd knew from other books of instruction that all this effort was a precaution against the magic being used easily. No one was simply going to decide to be the master of the world and read how in a book of magic. Zedd, as much as he knew, didn’t have the required knowledge
to carry out the instructions. Darken Rahl had been studying for this moment almost his whole life. His father had probably begun the instruction when he was young. Zedd wished the wizard’s fire that had killed his father had killed Darken Rahl, too. He considered that thought a moment, and then took it back.

At dawn, after all the enchantments were drawn, the boxes were placed on them; each box, distinguished by the number of shadows it threw, was placed on a specific drawing. Spells were cast. As the rays of sun from the second day of winter lit the stone, the boxes were placed on the altar once more. Zedd was amazed to see that the boxes that had thrown a particular number of shadows the day before now threw a different number—another precaution. As directed, the boxes were rearranged so the one throwing a single shadow was to the left, the one that threw two was in the center, and the one that threw three was to the right.

Darken Rahl stared at the black boxes. “Continue.”

Without hesitation, Richard went on. “
Once so arranged, Orden is at the ready to be commanded. Where one shadow is insufficient to gain the power to sustain the life of the player, and three more than can be tolerated by all life, the balance is struck by opening the box with two shadows; one shadow for yourself, and one for the world that would be yours to command by the power of Orden. One world under one command is marked by the box with two shadows. Open it to gain your reward.
”

Darken Rahl’s face turned slowly to Richard. “Go on.”

Richard blinked. “
Rule as you have chosen.
That is the end.”

“There must be more.”

“No, Master Rahl.
Rule as you have chosen
. That’s the end, the last words.”

Rahl grabbed Richard’s throat. “Did you learn it all? The entire book?”

“Yes, Master Rahl.”

Rahl’s face reddened. “That can’t be right! That isn’t the right box! The box with two shadows is the one that will kill me! I told you, I learned that much! I learned which one will kill me!”

“I have told you every word true. Every single word.”

Darken Rahl released his throat. “I don’t believe you.” He looked to Michael. “Cut her throat.”

Richard fell to his knees with a scream. “Please! You gave me your word! You said if I told you, you wouldn’t harm her! Please! I have told you the truth!”

Rahl held his hand up to Michael, but kept his eyes on Richard. “I don’t believe you. Unless you tell me the truth, right now, I will cut her open. I will kill your mistress.”

“No!” Richard screamed. “I have told you the truth! I can’t tell you anything different, it would be a lie!”

“Last chance, Richard. Tell me the truth, or she dies.”

“I can’t tell you anything differently,” Richard cried. “Anything different would be a lie. I have told you every word true.”

Zedd came to his feet. He watched the knife at Kahlan’s throat; her green eyes were wide; he watched Darken Rahl. Rahl had obviously found some of the information from a source other than the Book of Counted Shadows, and that information was in conflict with the information in the book. This was not uncommon;
surely Darken Rahl must know that. When there was a conflict, the information in the instruction book for that specific magic must always take precedence. To do otherwise was always fatal—it was a safeguard to protect the magic. Zedd hoped against hope that Rahl’s arrogance would make him go against the book.

The smile came back to Darken Rahl’s face. He licked his fingertips, wiped them on his eyebrows. “All right, Richard. I just had to be sure you were telling me the truth.”

“I am, I swear on Mistress Kahlan’s life. Every word I told you is true.”

Rahl nodded. He gave a wave of his hand to Michael. Michael relaxed the knife. Kahlan closed her eyes as tears ran down her cheeks. Rahl turned to the boxes, letting out a deep breath.

“At last,” he whispered. “The magic of Orden is mine.”

Zedd couldn’t see it, but he knew that Darken Rahl lifted the lid on the middle box, the one with two shadows; he could tell by the light expanding from it. Golden light lifted and as if it were a great weight, it settled over Master Rahl, lighting him in a golden glow. He turned, smiling. The light about him moved with him as he moved. He lifted slightly into the air, enough to take the weight from his feet, and floated to the center of the sorcerer’s sand, his arms extended, the light beginning to swirl slowly around him. He faced toward Richard.

“Thank you, my son, for coming back, for helping Father Rahl. You will be rewarded for helping me, as I promised. You have delivered to me that which is mine. I can feel it. It’s marvelous. I can feel the power.”

Richard stood without emotion, watching. Zedd sank to the ground again. What had Richard done? How could he? How could he give Rahl the magic of Orden? Allow him to rule the world? He had been touched by a Confessor, that was how; it wasn’t his fault, he had no control. It was over. Zedd forgave him.

Had he the power, Zedd would have made Wizard’s Life Fire, and put his life into it. But he had no power here, no power in the face of Master Rahl. He felt very tired, very old. He knew he would not get the chance to get much older. Darken Rahl would see to that. But it was not himself he grieved for—it was everyone else.

Bathed in the golden light, Darken Rahl slowly rose a few feet off the ground, above the white sorcerer’s sand, a satisfied grin on his face, his blue eyes sparkling. His head rolled back in rapture, his eyes closing, his blond hair hanging away. Sparkles of light rotated about him.

The white sand turned a golden color, continued turning darker, to a burnt brown. The light around Rahl darkened to amber. His head came down, his eyes coming open, his smile fading.

The sorcerer’s sand crisped to black. The ground trembled.

A smile spread on Richard’s face. He went and retrieved the Sword of Truth, the anger of the sword’s magic flooding into his gray eyes. Zedd came to his feet. The light around Darken Rahl turned an ugly brown. His blue eyes went wide.

A wailing roar came from the ground. The black sand under Rahl’s feet split open. Violet light shot up, engulfing him. He twisted in it, screaming out.

Richard, his chest heaving, stood transfixed, watching.

The invisible prison around Zedd shattered. Chase’s hand abruptly completed
its journey to his sword, yanking it free as he flew toward Kahlan. The two guards released her arms and met him halfway.

Michael’s face paled. He stared in shock as Chase cut down one of the men. Kahlan drove her elbow into Michael’s gut and grabbed the knife, twisting it from his hand. Disarmed, Michael scanned about with quick jerks of his head, his eyes wild, and raced off down a path between the trees.

Chase and the second guard tumbled to the ground, both grunting with lethal intent as they rolled over each other trying to gain advantage. The guard cried out. Chase came to his feet. The other didn’t. He gave a glance at Darken Rahl, and ran off down the path Michael had taken. Zedd saw a glimpse of Kahlan’s dress as she disappeared in another direction.

Zedd stood as Richard did, spellbound, their stares riveted to Darken Rahl as he struggled, trapped in the grip of the magic of Orden. Violet light and dark shadows held him tight in the air above the black hole.

“Richard!” Rahl shrieked. “What have you done!”

The Seeker stepped closer to the circle of black sand. “Why, only what you wanted, Master Rahl,” he said innocently. “I have told you what you wanted to hear.”

“But it was the truth! You told the words true!”

Richard nodded. “Yes, I did. I just didn’t tell you all of them. I left out most of the paragraph at the end.
Be cautioned. The effect of the boxes is fluid. It shifts with the intent. To be Master of all, so you may help others, shift one box to the right. To be Master of all, so all will do your bidding, shift one box to the left. Rule as you have chosen
. Your information was correct; the box with two shadows was the one that would kill you.”

“But you had to do as I said! You were touched by a Confessor’s power!”

Richard smiled. “Was I? Wizard’s First Rule. It’s the first rule because it’s the most important. You should have guarded better against it. That’s the price of arrogance. I accept my vulnerability, you don’t.

“I didn’t like the choices you gave me. I couldn’t win by your rules, so I made some new ones. The book said you had to confirm the truth with the use of a Confessor. You only thought you had done that. Wizard’s First Rule. You believed because you wanted to. I have beaten you.”

“It can’t be! It’s not possible! How could you have known how to do this!”

“You taught me: nothing, including magic, is one-dimensional. Look at the whole, you said; nothing that exists has only one side. Look at the whole.” Richard shook his head slowly. “You should never have taught me something you didn’t want me to know. Once you teach me something, it’s mine to use. Thank you, Father Rahl, for teaching me the most important thing I will ever learn—how to love Kahlan.”

Darken Rahl’s face distorted in pain. He laughed and screamed.

Richard looked around. “Where’s Kahlan?”

Zedd pointed a long finger. “I saw her leave that way.”

Richard slid the sword back into its scabbard as he turned his eyes to the figure held in the shadows and light. “Good-bye, Father Rahl. I trust you will die without my watching it.”

“Richard!” Rahl shrieked as he watched the Seeker stride away. “Richard!”

Zedd stood alone with Darken Rahl. He watched as transparent fingers of smoke entwined around the white robes, pinning Rahl’s arms to his sides. Zedd stepped closer, the blue eyes turning to the old wizard.

“Zeddicus Zu’l Zorander, you have won this much of it, but maybe not all of it.”

“Arrogant to the end?”

Rahl smiled. “Tell me who he is.”

Zedd shrugged. “The Seeker.”

Rahl laughed, struggling in pain. The blue-eyed gaze came back to Zedd. “He is your son, isn’t he? I have at least been defeated by wizard blood. You are his father.”

Zedd shook his head slowly, a wistful smile coming to his lips. “He is my grandson.”

“You lie! Why put a web around him, hide his father’s identity, if it is not you!”

“I put a web around him because I did not want him to know who the blue-eyed bastard was who raped his mother and gave him life.”

Darken Rahl’s eyes widened. “Your daughter was killed. My father told me so.”

“A little trick, to keep her safe.” Zedd’s expression darkened. “Though you didn’t know who she was, you hurt her. Without intending it, you also gave her happiness. You gave her Richard.”

“I am his father?” Rahl whispered.

“When you raped my daughter, I knew I couldn’t harm you, and my first thought was to comfort her, protect her, so I took her to Westland. She met a young man, a man widowed with a baby son. George Cypher was a good, kind man; I was proud to have him as my daughter’s husband. George loved Richard as his own, but he knew the truth, except about me, who I was; that was hidden by the web.