“Well, we know that this trap was set with powerful magic,” Kahlan said, “so there are bound to be spells lingering about this place. Sometimes magic does that—leaves traces.”
Vika stepped ahead of him into the opening. “Rikka, Vale, come with me. The rest of you wait here. We will go down first and see if it’s safe.”
Richard gripped her arm and forcefully pulled her back before she could start down. “Are you out of your mind? Of course it’s not safe. Now, stay behind me.”
She looked so shocked by what he said that she did as he told her.
Richard started down with Kahlan at his side, expecting the rest of them to follow. Vika followed as close behind him as she could without stepping on his heels. Shale was right behind Kahlan. The others flowed down the steps behind them.
Only the first of the steps were carved well. On the way down, they soon became rough-hewn slabs in some places, and steps simply carved directly out of the stone of the mountain itself in others. Their uneven shape made footing treacherous. The treads and risers were different depths and heights, requiring care with every step they took. Sometimes it was a long stride and sometimes so short that they almost fell. Richard held on tightly to Kahlan’s hand as he held his other out behind to urge the others to be careful. He didn’t want them falling on top of him and Kahlan and causing them all to go tumbling down to somewhere far below.
As they cautiously descended the curving, irregular run of steps, he realized that the stairs followed the uneven excavation down along the rock walls. When they got farther down, he was finally able to see that they were descending to the edge of what was a vast, roughly circular chamber. He was astonished by how immense it was, both in width and height.
Like the opening above, the walls had been cut with excavation tools, leaving a rough, unfinished surface. It looked to Richard that in places on the walls great slabs of rock had collapsed down, actually aiding in the excavation. It resembled a mine more than a room, except that it was huge beyond any normal room, or any mine for that matter. He had seen chambers in natural caves that were this immense, but this was not a cave and not natural. He couldn’t imagine its purpose.
Rather than it getting darker, they began to see flickering firelight from below that helped them see the steps better. Keen to find out what this place was and what was going on, he had to force himself to be careful and not to hurry. The fact that it was a trap, with the mountain lion leading them into it, also tempered his urge to hurry.
He started to realize that this strange underground chamber had to actually be the true purpose of the palace. The place above was merely a façade. Like a man irresistibly drawn to a beautiful woman with an evil heart, Richard felt that he had first been charmed by the beauty of the palace architecture, but he was now being drawn to the evil heart of this place.
The stairs turned as they approached the bottom. He saw, then, that they were coming down behind enormous statues of ravens that were at least three times his height. Their wings were extended in front to hold stone bowls of flaming oil that provided light. The smell was similar to that of burning pitch. It also left a haze to settle in the cool air of the pit.
When they reached the bottom of the rough stairs, and they came around one of the ravens, he saw that there were more of the stone ravens all around the room in a circle, thirteen in all. They all faced inward to the center of the chamber.
Between and beyond the stone ravens, he could see that there were caverns all around the base of the room, going back into the stone of the mountain itself. Torches lit the tunneled passageways, but he couldn’t see what they led to.
Off in the middle of the room, he saw a line of intimidating people watching them approach. They were all women.
In the center of that line of silent women sat a tall, elegant throne. He could see the light from the burning pots dance and flare on the gold-leaf vines, snakes, cats, and other beasts carved into the arms and framing the tufted red velvet-covered back. A canopy draped with heavy red brocade and trimmed with gold tassels jutted out overhead, making an imposing statement.
The mountain lion sat beside the throne.
Richard had seen that throne before.
As he cautiously closed the distance, he recognized the woman sitting in the massive structure.
It was his mother.
21
Out of the corner of her eye, Kahlan saw Berdine’s jaw drop. “Mama?”
Rikka lifted an arm to point. “No, that’s my mother.”
Vale went to her knees as her eyes welled up with tears. “Mother? Is that really you?”
“This is impossible,” Shale whispered even as Kahlan knew that she, too, would be seeing her own mother.
When Nyda reached out in longing and started to rush ahead, Richard swept an arm around her waist and yanked her from her feet. He set her down behind him. Kahlan caught Rikka’s arm to stop her from going any farther.
“Everyone stay where you are,” Richard said in a commanding voice before any of the others could rush to the woman they all wrongly believed was their mother.
Most of the Mord-Sith looked in stunned confusion between the women and Richard. The woman sitting on the magnificent throne smiled benevolently. Kahlan knew that Richard, too, was seeing his mother. The only difference was, like Kahlan, Richard knew who this really was.
“Shota, stop it,” Richard called out in a voice that cut through the hiss of the burning lamp oil and echoed around the chamber.
Kahlan had been pretty sure for quite some time who it was that had been drawing them into this trap. Richard had known as well, but like her, he had not wanted to put words to that belief lest that somehow make it true. They had both hoped they were wrong, and that it would turn out to be something else.
Kahlan’s mother smiled, then, in a loving way, but Kahlan had already steeled herself against Shota’s cynical deception. This was a witch woman playing her games; it was not any of their mothers. She didn’t allow herself to let her emotions be twisted by what she knew to be an illusion.
Shale looked at Kahlan in wordless confusion.
“That spell you felt at the opening to this place?” Kahlan whispered to her.
“Yes? What of it?” Shale asked.
“It was to keep you from smelling witches.”
Realization swept away the confusion in her features.
“Shota,” Richard said again, “stop this cruel hoax.”
Once Shota saw that Richard and Kahlan weren’t about to play along, and that they weren’t going to let any of the others be sucked into the deception, she stood and descended the three platforms the throne sat atop.
Her variegated gray dress gently billowed as if lifted by a gentle breeze. When she caught one of the points of the skirt, it was as if the breeze died out and it settled down. As the dress went still, her fabricated looks also died out, melding back into the face of the witch woman Kahlan knew all too well. She was glad, at least, that Shota was no longer taunting her with the image of her mother.
Kahlan glanced at the women lined up to either side of the throne. Their piercing glares were chilling. Even though they all looked very different, they all radiated the same aura of mystery and danger.
A self-satisfied smile spread across Shota’s full, red lips. Her almond eyes sparkled with her smile. Kahlan had always thought of the stunning woman as a rose encrusted with ice crystals.
Shota glided across the room toward them, her eyes fixed on Richard the whole time. Kahlan found it irritating the way Shota had always acted a little too charming toward Richard. Richard, of course, didn’t respond to her charms, but it nonetheless irritated her.