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  　Verna folded her hands at her belt. "Well, I did appoint you because I believed in your abilities. I guess it only fair that I allow you to prove them. After all, a Prelate's administrators are of vital importance to the running of the palace."

  　Dulcinia's lips spread in a cunning 【创建和谐家园】ile. "You'll see just how vital we are to helping you, Prelate. And so will your advisors."

  　Verna lifted her eyebrows. "I'm already impressed. Sisters. Well, I do have some matters to look into. What with being so busy with reports, I've not had a chance to check up on my advisors, and make sure that they're handling their duties properly. I guess it's about time I did that."

  　"Yes," Dulcinia said as she followed Phoebe out the door, "I think that would be wise."

  　Verna let out a huge sigh when the door closed. She had thought she would never see the end of those reports. She gave a mental thank-you to Prelate Annalina. She realized she was grinning, and straightened her face.

  　Warren didn't answer her knock, and when she peeked into his room she saw his bed didn't look slept in. Verna winced when she remembered that she had ordered him to the vaults to link up those prophecies. Poor Warren had probably been sleeping with his books, doing as she had commanded. She recalled with shame how she had spoken to him when she had been so angry after her talk with the gravedigger. Now, she was relieved and overjoyed to know that the Prelate and Nathan were alive, but at the time she had been livid and had taken it out on Warren.

  　Instead of causing a stir, she descended the stairs and corridors without an escort to empty the vaults for her. She thought it would be safer if she were to simply pay a short visit to the vaults on a minor inspection and tell Warren to come to her at their meeting spot by the river. This information was far too dangerous to convey even in the safety of the empty vaults.

  　Maybe Warren could come up with an idea of how they could unmask the Sisters of the Dark. Warren's cleverness was surprising at limes. She kissed her ring in an attempt to banish the anguish when she remembered her duty to send him away. She had to get him away at once.

  　With a sad 【创建和谐家园】ile, she thought that maybe he could get some wrinkles on his annoyingly 【创建和谐家园】ooth face, and catch up with her while she remained under the palace's spell.

  　Sister Becky, her pregnancy becoming obvious to all, was lecturing a group ol older novices on the intricacies of prophecy. She was pointing out the danger of false prophecy becruse of forks that had been taken in the past. Once an event in a prophecy had taken place, and if it carried an "either or" fork, then the prophecy had been resolved by events; one branch of the fork had proven true, and the other branch then became a false p -ophecy.

  　The difficulty was that yet other prophecies were linked to each branch, but when they were given it wasn't yet decided which fork would come to pass. Once resolved, any prophecy linked to the dead branch became false, too, but because it was often impossible to determine which fork many prophecies were linked to, the vaults were clogged with this dead wood.

  　Verna moved to the back wall and listened for time as the novices asked questions.

  　It was frustrating for them to learn the scope of the problems facing one trying to work with prophecy, and how many of the things they asked had no answer. Verna now knew from what Warren had told her that the Sisters had even less understanding of the prophecies than they thought.

  　Prophecy was really meant to be interpreted by a wizard whose gift possessed (hat aptitude. In the last thousand years, Nathan was the only wizard they had come across who had the ability to give prophecy. She now knew that he understood them in a way no Sister had ever known, except perhaps Prelate Annalina. She now knew that Warren, too, had that latent talent for prophecy.

  　As Sister Becky went on with an explanation of linkage through key events and chronology, Verna quietly moved off toward the back rooms where Warren usually worked, but found them all empty, and their books returned to the shelves. Verna puzzled over where to look next. It had never been difficult to find Warren, but that was because he was almost always in the vaults.

  　Sister Leoma met her as she was returning up the aisles between the long rows of shelves. Her advisor 【创建和谐家园】iled in greeting and bowed her head of long, straight white hair, tied behind with a golden ribbon. Verna detected worry in the creases of her face.

  　"Good morning, Prelate. The Creator's blessing on this new day."

  　Verna returned the warm 【创建和谐家园】ile. "Thank you, Sister. A fine day it is, too. How are the novices doing?"

  　Leoma glanced off toward the tables with the young women sitting around it in concentration. "They will make fine Sisters. I've been observing the lessons, and there's not an inattentive one in the lot," Without returning her gaze to Vema, she asked, "Have you come to find Warren?"

  　Verna twisted the ring on her finger. "Yes. There were a few matters I thought to ask him check for me. Have you seen him about?"

  　When Leoma turned back at last, her creases had deepened into true concern. "Verna, I'm afraid Warren is not here."

  　"I see. Well, do you know where I could find him?"

  　She let out a deep breath. "What I mean, Verna, is that Warren is gone."

  　"Gone? What do you mean gone?"

  　Sister Leoma's gaze drifted away to the shadows among the shelves. "I mean he has left the palace. For good."

  　Verna's mouth dropped opened. "Are you sure? You must be mistaken. Perhaps you ..."

  　Leoma 【创建和谐家园】oothed back a wisp of white hair. "Verna, he came to me, night before last, and told me he was leaving."

  　Verna wet her lips. "Why didn't he come to me? Why wouldn't he tell the Prelate that he was leaving?"

  　Leoma drew her shawl tighter. "Verna, I'm sorry to have to be the one to te!l you, but he said you and he had words, and he thought that it would be for the best if he were to leave the palace. For now, at least. He made me promise that I wouldn't tell you for a couple of days so he could be away. He didn't want you coming after him."

  　"Coming after him!" Verna's fists tightened. "What makes him think . . ." Verna's head was spinning, trying to understand, and suddenly trying to call back

  　words that were days ago uttered. "But ... did he say when he would be back? The palace needs his talent. He knows about the books down here. He can't jusi up and leave!"

  　Leoma glanced away again. "I'm sorry, Verna, but he's gone. He said that he didn't know when, or if, he would return. He said that he thought it would be for the best, and that you would come to see that, too."

  　"Did he say anything else," she whispered hopefully.

  　She shook her head.

  　"And you just let him go? Didn't you try to stop him?"

  　"Verna," Leoma said in a gentle tone, "Warren had his collar off. You yourself released him from his Rada'Han. We can't force a wizard to remain at the palace against his will when you've released him. He is a free man. It is his choice, noi ours."

  　It all came over her in an icy wave of tingling dread. She had released him. How could she expect him to remain to help her when she treated him in such a humiliating fashion? He was her friend, and she had dressed him down as if he were a first-year boy. He was not a boy. He was a man. His own man.

  　And now he was gone.

  　Verna forced herself to speak. "Thank you, Leoma, for telling me."

  　Leoma nodded and after giving Verna's shoulder a squeeze of reassurance, walked back toward the lessons in the distance.

  　Warren was gone.

  　Reason told her that the Sisters of the Dark might have taken him, but in her heart she could only blame herself.

  　Verna's faltering steps bore her to one of the little rooms, and after the stone door had closed, she sank weakly into a chair. Her head fell into her arms, and she began to weep, realizing only now how much Warren had meant to her.

  　CHAPTER 32

  　Kahlan leaped out of the wagon bed, rolling through the snow when she landed. She sprang to her feet and scrambled toward the shrieks as rocks still crashed down around her, rebounding into the trees on the low side of the narrow trail, snapping branches and thudding into the huge trunks of the old pines.

  　She jammed her back against the side of the wagon. "Help me!" she screamed to men already in a dead run toward her.

  　Arriving only seconds after her, they threw themselves up against the wagon, taking up the weight. The man cried out louder.

  　"Wait, wait, wait!" It sounded like they were killing him. "Just hold it there. Don't lift anymore."

  　The half dozen young soldiers strained to hold the wagon where it was. The rock that had piled down on top had added considerably to the burden.

  　"Orsk!" she called out.

  　"Yes, Mistress?"

  　Kahlan started. In the darkness, she hadn't seen the big, one-eyed D'Haran soldier standing right behind her.

  　"Orsk, help them hold the wagon up. Don't lift it—just hold it still." She turned to the dark trail behind as Orsk muscled his way in beside the others and clamped his massive hands onto the lower edge of the wagon. "Zedd! Somebody get Zedd! Hurry!"

  　Pushing her long hair back over her wolf-hide mantle, Kahlan knelt beside the young man under the axle hub. It was too dark to see how badly he was injured, but by his panting grunts, she feared it was serious. She couldn't figure out why he cried out louder when they started to lift the weight off him.

  　Kahlan found his hand and took it in both of hers. "Hold on, Stephens. Help's coming."

  　She grimaced when he crushed her hand in his grip as he let out a wail. He clutched her hand as if he were hanging from a cliff and her hand was the only thing keeping him from falling into death's dark grasp. She vowed that she would not take her hand back even if he broke it.

  　"Forgive me ... my queen ... for slowing us."

  　"It was an accident. It wasn't your doing." His legs squirmed in the snow. "Try 'o stay still." With her free hand, she brushed hair back from his brow. He quieted a bit at her touch, so she held the hand to the side of his icy face. “Please, Stephens, try to be still. I won't let them put the weight down on you. I promise. We'll get you out from under there in a just a moment, and the wizard will set you back to right."

  　She could feel him nod under her hand. No one near had a torch, and in the feeble moonlight ghosting through the thick branches she couldn't see what the problem was. It seemed that lifting the wagon caused him more pain than when it was on him.

  　Kahlan heard a horse galloping up and saw a dark figure leap off as the horse skidded to a halt, twisting its head against the pull of the reins. When the man hit the ground, a flame ignited in his upturned sticklike hand, lighting his thin face and mass of wavy white hair sticking out in disarray.

  　"Zedd! Hurry!"

  　When Kahlan looked down in the sudden, harsh illumination, she saw the extent of the problem, and felt a wave of nausea surge up like a hot hammer.

  　Zedd's calm, hazel eyes glided over the scene in quick appraisal as he knelt on the other side of Stephens.

  　"The wagon grazed a piling timber holding back the scree," she explained.

  　The trail was narrow and treacherous, and in the darkness, on the curve, they hadn't seen the piling in the snow. The timber must have been old and rotted. When the hub bumped it, the timber snapped, and the beam it had supported tumbled down, allowing a sluice of rock to come down on them.

  　As the rock drove the back of the wagon sideways, the iron rim of the rear wheel caught in a frozen rut beneath the snow and the spokes of the rear wheel snapped. The hub knocked Stephens from his feet and came down atop him.

  　Kahlan could now see in the light that one of the splintered spokes jutting from the hub canted at the end of the broken axle had impaled the young man. When they tried to hoist the wagon, it lifted him by that spoke driven at an angle up under his ribs.

  　"I'm sorry, Kahlan," Zedd said.

  　"What do you mean you're sorry? You must ..."

  　Kahlan realized that although her hand still throbbed, the grip on it had gone slack. She looked down and saw the mask of death. He was now in the spirits' hands.

  　The pall of death sent a shudder through her. She knew what it was to feel the touch of death. She felt it now. She felt it every waking moment. In sleep it saturated her dreams with its numb touch. Her icy fingers reflexively brushed at her face, trying to wipe away the ever-present tingle, almost like a hair tickling her flesh, but there was never anything there to brush away. It was the teasing touch of magic, of the death spell, that she felt.

  　Zedd stood, letting the flame float to a torch that a man nearby was holding out, igniting it into wavering flame. While Zedd held one hand out as if in command to the wagon, he motioned the men away with his other. They cautiously took their shoulders away, but remained poised to catch the wagon if it suddenly fell again. Zedd turned his palm up and, in harmony with his arm's movement, the wagon obediently rose into the air another couple of feet.

  　"Pull him out," Zedd ordered in a somber tone.

  　The men seized Stephens by his shoulders and hauled him off the spoke. When he was out from under the axle, Zedd turned his hand over and allowed the wagon to settle to the ground.

  　A man fell to his knees beside Kahlan. "It's my fault," he cried in anguish. "I'm sorry. Oh, dear spirits, it's my fault."

  　Kahlan gripped the driver's coat and urged him to his feet. "If it's anyone's fault, then I'm to blame. I shouldn't have been trying to make distance in the dark. I should have ... It's not your fault. It was an accident, that's all."

  　She turned away, closing her eyes, still hearing the phantoms of his screams. As was their routine, they hadn't used torches so as not to reveal their presence. There was no telling what eyes might see a force of men moving through the passes. While there was no evidence of pursuit, it was foolhardy to be overconfident. Stealth was life.

  　"Bury him as best you can," Kahlan told the men. There would be no digging in the frozen ground, but at least they could use the rock from the scree to cover him. His soul was with the spirits, and safe, now. His suffering was over.

  　Zedd asked the officers to get the trail cleared and then went with the men to find a place to lay Stephens to rest.

  　Amid the mounting noise and activity, Kahlan suddenly remembered Cyrilla, and climbed back into the wagon bed. Her half sister was wrapped in a heavy layer of blankets and nestled among piles of gear. Most of the rock had fallen in the back of the wagon, missing her, and the blanket had protected her from the 【创建和谐家园】aller stones the pile of gear didn't stop. It was a wonder that no one had been crushed by one of the larger boulders that had crashed down in the darkness.

  　They had put Cyrilla in the wagon instead of the coach because she was still unconscious, and they thought that in the wagon they could lay her down so she would be more comfortable. The wagon was probably beyond repair. They would have to put her in the coach, now, but it wasn't far.

  　In the bottleneck in the trail, men started gathering, some squeezing past at officers' instructions and moving on into the night, while others brought out axes to cut trees and repair die support wall, while still others were told to throw the 【创建和谐家园】all stones and roll the larger rocks from the trail so diey could get the coach through.

  　Kahlan was relieved to see that Cyrilla was unhurt by any of the rocks, and relieved, too, that she was still in her near constant stupor, They didn't need Cyrilla's screams and cries of terror at the moment; there was work to be done.

  　Kahlan had been riding in the wagon with her in case she happened to wake. After what had been done to her back in Aydindril, Cyrilla panicked at the sight of men, becoming terrified and inconsolable if Kahlan, Adie, or Jebra wasn't there to calm her.

  　In her rare spells of lucidity, Cyrilla made Kahlan promise, over and over, that she would be queen. Cyrilla worried for her people, and knew that she was in no state to help them. She loved Galea enough to refuse to burden her land with a queen in no condition to lead them. Kahlan had reluctantly assumed the responsibility.

  　Kahlan1 s half brother, Prince Harold, wanted nothing to do with a monarchial burden. He was a soldier, as was his and Cyrilla's father, King Wyborn. After Cyrilla and Harold had been born, Kahlan's mother had taken King Wyborn as her mate, and Kahlan was bom. She was born a Confessor; the magic of the Confessors took precedence over petty matters of royalty.

  　"How is she?" Zedd asked as he tugged his robes off a snag while climbing into the wagon.

  　"The same. She was unhurt by the rockfall."

  　Zedd put fingers to her temples for a moment. "There is nothing wrong with her body, but the sickness still holds reign over her mind." He shook his head with a sign as he rested an arm on his knee. "I wish the gift could cure maladies of the mind."

  　Kahlan saw the frustration in his eyes. She 【创建和谐家园】iled. "Be thankful. If you could you would never have time to eat."

  　As Zedd chuckled, she glanced to the men around the wagon, and saw Captain Ryan. She gestured him closer.

  　"Yes, my queen?"

  　"How far to Ebinissia?"

  　"Four, maybe six hours.1'

  　Zedd leaned toward her. "Not a place we want to reach in the dead of the night."

  　Kahlan caught his meaning and nodded. For them to reclaim the Crown city o: Galea, they had a lot of work to do; the first of it was taking care of the thousand^ of corpses littering the city. It was not a scene they wanted to encounter in the middle of the night after a hard day's march. She didn't look forward to returning to the sight of that slaughter, but it was a place no one would expect to find them. and they could be safe there for a time. From that base, they could begin pulling the Midlands back together.

  　She turned back to Captain Ryan. "Is there anywhere near we can set up carm for the night?"

  　The captain gestured up the road. "The scouts said there's a 【创建和谐家园】all, upland valley not far ahead. There's an abandoned farm there where Cyrilla will be comfortable for the night."