The Omen Machine

When he reached the broad area where he’d spotted it, there was no chimney. The smoke simply seeped right up through the weaving of branches. He was able to hear the crazy chanting, thumping, and carrying-on right underneath him.

Richard slowly, carefully, as quietly as he could, drew his sword. He didn’t think they would be able to hear him over all the noise below, but he wasn’t taking any chances. The steel hissed softly as it came out into the gloom.

He’d already decided, from everything he knew, that nothing going on below him could be anything good. He knew that Henrik had been drawn to this place after having been sent to retrieve Richard’s and Kahlan’s flesh, and when he escaped he was covered in blood. He knew that Kahlan, through some kind of occult conjuring surrounding the flesh that Henrik had brought back to the Hedge Maid, had also been compelled to come to this place.

He had no illusions. This was going to be a fight to the death.

The sword’s rage stormed through him, mixing with his own anger at Kahlan being taken prisoner. He wasn’t even sure that she was still alive. It was all he could do to control the fury pounding through his veins and focus on what he needed to do.

Richard remembered all too well Nicci’s warnings about Hedge Maids. She’d said that he had no defense against their powers. That meant that his sword would not work against her. He’d had that experience before, so he took Nicci’s warning seriously.

There wasn’t a lot that could be done about it now, though. He had no choice and no time to get help. He had to act.

But Nicci’s warning didn’t mean his sword wouldn’t work against others, and he could hear a lot of others below him.

His only chance was surprise, swiftness of action, and violence.

Richard drew the blade across the inside of his arm, letting it bite through his flesh to have a taste of blood. A crimson drop ran down the fuller and dripped off the tip.

Richard lifted the blade stained with blood and touched it to his forehead.

“Blade, be true this day,” he whispered.

Richard knew that he had to be fast. With all his fury and strength, he lifted the sword overhead, pausing for only an instant, and then swept it down between his wide-spread legs, slicing through the web of woven branches, sticks, and vines.

The sound of it parting the thick mat of woven material ripped the heavy air of the swamp.

He drew his fists in tight to his chest, held the sword upright, put his legs together, and dropped down through the raw opening.

He landed in the heart of madness.

CHAPTER 83

Richard dropped into a crouch as he landed. Glowing, hooded forms hovered to the side while figures from a nightmare, their gaunt limbs flailing about in the air, danced around the room, high-stepping, slapping their bony feet to the woven floor, making the whole room drum. Their heads thrown back, needle-sharp teeth bared, they all chanted strange guttural sounds in time with their thumping feet.

The sound of it lifted the fine hairs at the back of his neck. The sight of it made him grip his sword all the tighter.

A haze of acrid smoke hung in the air. The sharp smell of fresh blood overlay even the stench of death.

A small woman in the center of the room, surprised by the intruder, turned to stare up at him with big, black eyes.

Her lips were sewn closed with strips of leather.

Her blackened hands and fingernails were stained with countless layers of filth. Her face had a dark patina of grime and gray soot. Fresh, bright red blood glistened on her chin. He saw it sloshing from side to side in the bowl she was holding.

In the center of the chaos, he didn’t think she could be anyone other than the Hedge Maid.

And then, across the room, where glowing figures hovered in a cluster, he spotted Kahlan. It looked like she was trapped behind the very fabric of the thorny wall. All the branches and vines netting her against the wall held her up, but by the way she slumped, she looked to be unconscious.

With the heel of his hand to the center of her chest, Richard rammed the small woman back out of his way as he raced toward Kahlan. After Nicci’s warning, he didn’t want to risk using his sword on the Hedge Maid.

The glowing figures turned toward him. Their putrid yellow eyes glared with unbridled hatred. Beyond the edges of their glowing bluish cowls, the wrinkled flesh of their grotesque, pitted and pockmarked faces covered with warts and open ulcers contorted with rage as they howled in fury. With knobby, deformed hands, they all reached for him.

The sword’s tip whistled through the air as Richard swung at them. The glowing forms faded away as the blade swept through them, only to reappear once it was past.