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  　"Not if you wish to stop him. When you leave our territory, the power of the symbols will be gone, and he will be able to see you again. "

  　Richard's clenched fists shook. Kahlan could see by the look on his face that he was close to disregarding the warning, close to going out to fight.

  　"The choice is yours, " the spirits said. "Wait in here while he kills some of our people, and when he is gone, go after the box, to kill him. Or go out now, and accomplish nothing." Richard closed his eyes tight. His chest rose and fell with his labored breathing.

  　"I will wait," he said in a voice she could barely hear.

  　Kahlan threw her arms around his neck, putting her head against his, as they both cried. The circle of elders began spinning around again.

  　That was the last thing she remembered until she and Richard were shaken awake by the Bird Man. She felt as if she were coming out of a nightmare as she recalled the things the spirits said, about the killing of the Mud People, and that to find the box they had to go into Agaden Reach, to Shota. She recoiled at the thought of the witch woman. The other elders were standing over them, and helping both of them up. All wore grim faces. Tears tried to come to her again. She forced them back.

  　The Bird Man pushed the door open to the cold night air, to a clear, starlit sky.

  　The clouds were gone. Even the snakelike cloud.

  　Dawn was less than an hour away, and already the eastern sky had a hint of color to it. A solemn-faced hunter handed them their clothes, and Richard his sword. Wordlessly, they dressed and went out.

  　A phalanx of hunters and archers protectively surrounded the spirit house. Many were bloodied. Richard pushed in front of the Bird Man.

  　"Tell me what happened," he ordered in a quiet voice.

  　A man with a spear stepped forward. Kahlan waited next to Richard, to translate. Rage flared in the man's eyes.

  　"The red demon came from the sky, carrying a man. He wanted you. " Fire in his eyes, he pushed his spearpoint against Richard's chest. The Bird Man, stonefaced, put his hand on the spear, raising the point away from Richard. "When he could only find your clothes, he began killing people. Children!" His chest was heaving with anger. "Our arrows would not touch him. Our spears would not touch him. Our hands would not touch him. Many of those who tried were killed by magic fire. Then he became even more angry when he saw that we use fire. He made all the fires go out. Then he climbed back on the red demon and told us that if we use fire again, he will come back and kill every child in the village. With magic, he floated Siddin into the air,

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  　and took him under his arm. A gift, he said, for a friend. Then he flew away. And where were you and your sword!"

  　Savidlin's eyes filled with tears. Kahlan put her hand against the ripping pain in her heart. She knew who the gift was for.

  　The man spat on Richard. Savidlin went for him, but Richard held his arm out, held Savidlin back.

  　"I heard the voices of our ancestors' spirits, " Savidlin said. "I know this is not his failing!"

  　Kahlan put her arms around Savidlin, and comforted him. "Be strong. We have saved him once when it .seemed he was lost. We will save him again. "

  　He nodded bravely as she pulled back. Richard asked softly what she had told Savidlin.

  　"A lie," she answered, "to ease his pain."

  　Richard nodded his understanding, and turned to the man with the spear.

  　"Show me the ones he killed," he said without emotion.

  　"Why?" the man demanded.

  　"So I will never forget why I am going to kill the one who did this."

  　The man gave the elders an angry glance and then led them all to the center of the village. Kahlan put on her blank expression, to shield herself from what she knew she would see. She had seen it too many times before, in other villages, other places. And as she expected, it was the same as she had seen before. Lined up in terrible disarray beside a wall were the torn and ripped bodies of children, the burned bodies of men and dead women, some without arms, or jaws. The Bird Man's niece was among them. Richard showed no emotion as he walked among the chaos of screaming and wailing people, past the dead, looking, the calm in the eye of the hurricane. Or maybe, she thought, the lightning about to strike.

  　"This is what you brought us, " the man hissed. "This is your fault!"

  　Richard watched as others nodded their agreement, then turned his eyes on the man with the spear. His voice was gentle.

  　"If it eases your pain to think so, then blame me. I choose to blame the one whose hands have the blood on them." He addressed the Bird Man and the other elders. "Until this is over, don't use fire. It will only invite more killing. I swear to stop this man or die in the attempt. Thank you, my friends, for helping me."

  　His eyes turned to Kahlan. They were intense, reflecting his anger over what he had just seen. He gritted his teeth. "Let's go find this witch woman."

  　They had no choice, of course. But she knew of Shota.

  　They were going to die.

  　They might as well go ask Darken Rahl to tell them where they could find the box.

  　Kahlan walked up to the Bird Man, then suddenly threw he; arms around him.

  　"Remember me, " she whispered.

  　When they separated, the Bird Man looked around at the people, his face drawn. "These two need some men to guard them safely to the edge of our land."

  　Savidlin stepped forward instantly. Without hesitation, a banc of ten of his best hunters came to stand with him

  　CHAPTER 29

  　PRINCESS VIOLET TURNED SUDDENLY and slapped Rachel's face. Hard. Rachel had done nothing wrong, of course; the Princess just liked to slap her when she least expected it. The Princess thought it was fun. Rachel didn't try to hide how much it hurt; if it didn't hurt enough, the Princess would slap her again. Rachel put her hand over the sting, her bottom lip quivering, tears welling up in her eyes, but she said nothing.

  　Turning back to the shiny, polished wall of little wooden drawers, Princess Violet put her stubby finger through a gold handle and slid open another drawer, taking out a sparkling silver necklace studded with large blue stones.

  　"This one's pretty. Hold my hair up."

  　She turned to the tall wood-framed mirror, admiring herself as her fingers hooked the clasp behind her plump neck while Rachel held her long, dull, brown hair out of the way for her. Rachel eyed herself in the mirror, inspecting the red mark on her face. She hated looking at herself in the mirror, hated seeing her hair, how it looked when the Princess chopped it off short. She wasn't allowed to let her hair grow, of course, she was a nobody,' but she wished so much it could at least be cut even. Almost everyone else had their hair cut short, but it was even. The Princess liked chopping it for her, liked making it all jagged. Princess Violet liked it when other people thought Rachel was ugly.

  　Rachel shifted her weight to her other foot and rolled her free ankle around to ease its stiffness. They'd been in the Queen's jewel room all afternoon, the Princess trying on one piece of jewelry after another, then primping and turning in front of the tall mirror. It was her favorite thing to do, trying on the Queen's jewelry and looking at herself in the mirror. Being her playmate, Rachel was required to be with her, to make sure the Princess was enjoying herself. Dozens of the little drawers stood open, some a little, some a lot. Necklaces and bracelets hung halfway out of some, like sparkling tongues. More were scattered around the floor, along with brooches, tiaras, and rings.

  　The Princess looked down her nose and pointed to a blue stone ring on the floor. "Give me that one."

  　Rachel slipped it over the finger held in front of her face; then the Princess watched herself in the mirror as she turned her hand this way and that. She ran her hand over the pretty pale blue satin dress, admiring the ring. Letting out a long, bored sigh, she walked over to the fancy white marble pedestal that stood by itself in the opposite corner of the jewel room. She was looking up at her mother's favorite object, one she fawned over at every opportunity.

  　Princess Violet's pudgy fingers reached up, pulling the gold jewel-encrusted box off its honored resting place.

  　"Princess Violet!" Rachel blurted out before she had a chance to think. "Your mother said you mustn't touch that."

  　The Princess turned with an innocent expression, then tossec her the box. Rachel gasped, catching the box, horrified it might crash against the wall. Terrified that she had it in her hands, she immediately set it down on the floor as if it were a hot coal. She backed away, fearful of getting whipped just for being caught near the Queen's precious box.

  　"What's the big deal?" Princess Violet snapped. "Magic keep it from being taken from this room. It's not like anyone's going to steal it or anything." Rachel didn't know anything about any magic, but she knew she didn't want to be caught touching the Queen's box.

  　"I'm going down to the dining room," the Princess said, lifting her nose, "to watch the guests arrive, and wait for dinner. Clean up this dreadful mess, then go to the kitchen and tell the cooks I don't want my roast cooked like leather, like the last time, or I'll tell my mother to have them beaten."

  　"Of course, Princess Violet." Rachel curtsied.