The Omen Machine

As he stared, trying to make it out, he realized that, oddly enough, it looked more like a small child, maybe a girl, hunched forward, long hair fallen down around the lowered head as it crouched on the floor.

He also knew that it couldn’t be real. There was no way that anything could have gotten into the room. At least, he didn’t think it could be real.

Real or not, Richard knew that Kahlan was seeing the same thing he was seeing. He could feel her heart hammering against his chest.

His sword stood leaned up against the nightstand. He was in the middle of the bed, tangled up with Kahlan. The weapon was just beyond an arm’s length away, just out of reach.

Something, some inner sense, told him not to move.

He thought then that maybe it wasn’t some inner sense, but rather simply the feeling of alarm at something dark crouched not far away, watching them.

Either way, he was afraid to move.

The thing, if it was a thing and not simply some trick of the dim light, or even his imagination, remained stone-still.

He told himself that if it turned out to be nothing more than a shadow he was going to feel pretty foolish.

But shadows didn’t watch.

This thing was watching.

Unable to endure the silent tension any longer, Richard slowly, ever so slowly, started to shift himself off Kahlan in order to reach toward his sword.

When he began to move, the thing started to uncurl, to slowly rise as if in response to his movement. A soft sound accompanied the movement, a brittle sound like sticks, muffled in cloth, snapping. Or maybe it sounded more like bones cracking.

Richard froze.

The thing didn’t.

As it rose, the head began to turn up. Richard could hear soft riffling pops as if the thing was dead and stiff, and every bone in the spine cracked under the effort of the forced movement.

The head continued to lift until Richard finally saw the eyes glaring out at him from under a lowered brow.

“Dear spirits,” Kahlan whispered, “what is that?”

Richard couldn’t even venture a guess.

From across the room, lightning quick, the thing suddenly bounded toward the bed.

Richard dove for his sword.

CHAPTER 25

Out of the corner of her eye Kahlan saw the dark thing charge toward them as Richard dove off her and across the bed.

As he slid toward the edge of the bed, his hand snatched the hilt of the sword. He rolled off the bed, yanking the sword free of the scabbard in one fluid movement as he landed on his feet. The ringing sound of the Sword of Truth’s steel cut the silence like a scream of rage that sent a shiver rippling across her flesh.

As the dark shape vaulted toward them Richard spun to face the threat. Kahlan ducked back out of the way.

With lightning speed, the weapon swung around in an arc. The blade whistled as it swept through the air to meet the streak of a shadow.

Razor-sharp steel cut through the center of the inky form.

But even as the blade was cleaving it, the dark form evaporated like dust losing its shape, a shadow decomposing into eddies and swirls as it vanished.

Richard stood beside the bed, sword in hand, panting with rage. As far as Kahlan could tell, the source of his awakened anger was no longer there. She heard the soft, distant rumble of thunder, and the faint hiss of the lantern on the table between the chairs and the couch.

Kahlan scooted across the bed toward him. She peered around at the dark room, trying to see if the form had reappeared somewhere else. She wondered if she would be able to see it if it did.

“I don’t feel anything watching us,” she said, still scanning the darkness for the silent threat.

“I don’t either. It’s gone.”

Kahlan wondered for how long. She wondered if it would suddenly appear again somewhere else in the room.

“What in the world do you think that could have been?” She stood up beside him, her fingers trailing along his muscular arm momentarily on her way to the lamp to turn up the wick.

Richard, still in the heat of rage from having the sword in his hand, scanned every corner of the room as the lamp finally helped illuminate what had been only dark shapes before.

“I wish I knew,” he said as he finally slid the sword back into its scabbard. “It’s starting to have me watching every shadow, listening to every sound, worrying if something is really there or wondering if it’s just my imagination.”

“Reminds me of when I was little and thought there were monsters under my bed.”

“There’s only one problem with that.”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“This wasn’t our imagination. We both felt it. We both saw it. It was here.”

“Do you think this thing tonight was what we felt watching us before?”

Richard glanced over at her. “Do you mean, do I think that this imaginary monster in our room is the same imaginary monster that was in our room last night?”

Despite her level of concern, that made Kahlan smile. “I guess it sounds silly when you put it that way.”

“What ever it is, I think it has to be the same thing that’s been watching us.”

“But we could never see it before. Why did it show itself tonight?”