Soul of the Fire

As she slogged through the passageways-turned-quagmire, mud had found its way into Kahlan's boots. She grimaced at the feel of the cold slime squeezing between her toes with each step. She dearly wished she could wash out her boots. She was cold, wet, tired, and muddy-all because Richard feared there was some stupid evil-spirit-chicken-monster on the loose.

She recalled with longing the warm bath of that morning, and wished she were there again.

Remembering Juni's death, she reconsidered. There were worse problems than her selfish wish for warmth. If Zedd and Ann were right about the magic…

They reached the open area in the center of the village. The living shadow that was Cara halted. Rain drummed on roofs to run in rills from eaves, spattered mud, and splashed in puddles made of every footstep.

The Mord-Sith lifted an arm and pointed. "There."

Kahlan squinted, trying to see through the drizzle of rain. She felt Zedd press close at her right and Ann at her left. Cara, off to the side just a bit, with the manifest vision of her bond, watched Richard, while the rest of them scanned the darkness trying to spot what she saw.

It was the diminutive fire that suddenly caught Kahlan's attention. Petite languid flames licked up into the wet air.

That it burned at all was astonishing. It appeared to be a remnant of their wedding bonfire. Impossibly, in the daylong downpour, this tiny refuge of their sacred ceremony survived.

Richard stood before the fire, watching it. Kahlan could just make out his towering contour. The knife edge of his golden cloak lifted in the wind, reflecting sparkles of the miraculous firelight.

She could see raindrops splattering on the toe of his boot as he used it to nudge the fire. The flames grew as high as his knee as he stirred whatever was still burning in all the rain. The wind whipped the flames around in a fiery gambol, red and yellow arms swaying and waving, prancing and fluttering, undulating in a spellbinding dance of hot light amid the cold dark rain.

Richard snuffed the fire.

Kahlan almost cursed him.

"Sentrosi," he murmured, grinding his boot to smother the embers.

The chill wind lifted a glowing spark upward. Richard tried to snatch it in his fist, but the kernel of radiance, on the wings of a gust, evaded him to disappear into the murky night.

"Bags," Zedd muttered in a surly voice, "that boy finds a pocket of rock pitch still burning in an old log, and he's ready to believe the impossible."

Civility fled Ann's voice. "We have more important things to do than to entertain the cockamamy conjecture of the uneducated."

Aggravated and in agreement, Zedd wiped a hand across his face. "It could be a thousand and one things, and he's settled on the one, because he's never heard of the other thousand."

Ann shook a finger up at Zedd. "That boy's ignorance is-"

"That's one of the three chimes," Kahlan said, cutting Ann off. "What does it mean?"

Both Zedd and Ann turned and stared at her, as if they had forgotten she was still there with them.

"It's not important," Ann insisted. "The point is we have consequential matters which require attention, and the boy is wasting time worrying about the chimes."

"What is the meaning of the word-"

Zedd cleared his throat, warning Kahlan not to speak aloud the name of the second chime.

Kahlan's brow drew down as she leaned toward the old wizard.

"What does it mean?"

"Fire," he said at last.

CHAPTER 9

Kahlan set up and rubbed her eyes as thunder boomed outside. The storm sounded rekindled. She squinted, trying to see in the dim light. Richard wasn't beside her. She didn't know what time of night it was, but they'd gotten to bed late. She sensed it was the middle of darkness, nowhere near morning. She decided Richard must have gone outside to relieve himself.

Heavy rain against the roof made it sound as if she were under a waterfall. On their first visit, Richard had used the spirit house to teach the Mud People how to make tile roofs that wouldn't leak in the rain as did their grass roofs, so this was probably the driest structure in the entire village.

People had been enthralled by the idea of roofs that didn't leak. She imagined it wouldn't be too many years before the entire village was converted from grass roofs to tile. She, for one, was grateful for the dry sanctuary.

Kahlan hoped Richard was starting to simmer down now that they knew there was nothing sinister in Juni's death. He'd had his look at every chicken in the village, as had the Bird Man, and neither man had found a chicken that wasn't a chicken. Or a feathered monster of any sort, for that matter. The issue was settled. In the morning, the men would turn the flocks loose.