The boxes of Orden, too, were gone, finally completing their cycle begun so long ago when the Sword of Truth had been forged as the key to using the power.
With Regula gone from the world of life, with prophecy ended, with the cycle of Orden finally ended, the spectral fold was closed. The breach between worlds was at last sealed.
Richard saw his sword on the ground beside him, the scabbard gleaming as brightly as ever. He put the baldric back over his head as he came to his feet, feeling strong again. He brushed himself off and tested his arms for residual pain from the poison, but there was no pain. He felt normal again. He could also again feel that inner sense of his gift. He had missed it.
The long ordeal with the poison from the Hedge Maid was finally ended.
Prophecy was ended.
But when he heard the distant howls, he remembered that his work was far from done.
He had to do something to stop what was happening if he could. He raced up the circular staircase to the level above the room where Regula had been banished for so long, but that level had been blown apart. He had to make his way carefully around the edge to get over to the side of the room with the short flight of stairs to the landing where the ladder should have been. He cast about and found the ladder under rubble and managed to pull it out. A few rungs were broken, but it was still usable. He stood it on the landing and leaned it up against floor of the Garden of Life.
Richard scrambled up and once on top quickly surveyed the destruction. Giant blocks of stone had been upended; dirt and rubble lay everywhere. The glass roof had an enormous hole blasted through the structure.
Richard started running up the path toward the double doors to get out to where the howls and screams were coming from.
As he raced up the path between the trees, a Mord-Sith in red leather stepped out from the side, blocking his way. Richard skidded to a halt. It was Vika, the Mord-Sith he had encountered once before when he had been a captive of Hannis Arc.
Vika’s steely blue eyes seemed to be examining his soul for every nuance of strength, weakness, and character–an idiosyncratic, piercing scrutiny unique to Mord-Sith.
Richard stared at her, trying to decide what to do. There were few people as lethal as a Mord-Sith. Richard knew how easy it was to make a mistake with such women and underestimate what they were capable of. He had learned that lesson the hard way.
He knew that using his sword against her would be a mistake. Using his gift against her would be just as big a mistake. She could capture magic used against her.
“Vika, you remember our talk,” he told her in a low, steady voice. “It’s your life. Have you thought about what choices you want to make for yourself?”
Behind her, Richard saw movement. From beyond the trees Hannis Arc, every inch of his flesh tattooed with symbols in the language of Creation, made his way down into the Garden of Life.
He was holding Kahlan by her hair, dragging her along behind. He wasn’t being gentle about it, either. Kahlan clawed at his hands, trying to keep from having her hair pulled out as she was dragged along, stumbling, falling, trying to keep up as he twisted her head one way and then the other.
Kahlan’s green eyes turned up and she spotted Richard. Those eyes brimmed with tears of pain and fury. He knew without a doubt that if she could have used her power against Hannis Arc, she would already have done so. He also saw that she was wearing the Grace ring Richard had sent with the soldier. Richard hoped that the blood all down the front of her was not that soldier’s blood, killed while delivering Richard’s message.
Richard started toward her.
Vika strode purposefully out right in front of him and with no warning rammed her Agiel into his gut. The shock of pain doubled him over. He couldn’t draw a breath. She held the Agiel in her fist pressed hard into him. The pain became beyond endurance. His vision sparkled with spots of light at the end of a dim tunnel. His ears rang. Every nerve in his body was on fire.
When she pulled her Agiel back, Richard dropped heavily to his knees, unable to do anything but try to gasp a breath. With her boot, Vika shoved him over. Richard collapsed onto his side, tears of pain streaming down his face. He tried to suck in air, but his throat had closed down so tightly that he couldn’t draw a good breath.
Vika went to a knee so that she could bend close, put her face close, so that he could see just how angry she was.
“If you know what’s good for you,” she growled intimately through gritted teeth, “you will stay down. Do–you–understand?”
She slammed her Agiel into his middle again and twisted it just to make her point, her teeth on edge the whole time. “I asked you a question. Do you understand?”
He nodded as best he could, unable to look at her.
Richard felt like his bulging eyes might burst out of his head. He struggled to draw a breath as she rose up and towered over him. All he could see were her boots right in front of him. He held his arms crossed over his middle.
“Leave him alone!” Kahlan screamed.
Hannis Arc twisted his hand, bending her head back, making her cry out in pain. Richard could see how much it was hurting her, but he was in no condition to do anything about it.
Hannis Arc finally tossed Kahlan to the ground, where she tumbled and rolled to a stop not far to the side of Richard.
Hannis Arc, glaring with his red eyes, lifted an arm toward Kahlan, his palm held up. Kahlan put her hands to her throat, gasping in agony at whatever kind of occult power he was using to hurt her. Her face went red, then started going blue.
Richard was beyond fury, but the pain from Vika’s Agiel still kept him from being able to use his muscles, much less draw a breath. He couldn’t properly focus his vision.
Hannis Arc gestured angrily at Vika for her to get out of his way. She bowed her head and withdrew to stand behind him.
He took several steps closer, glaring down at Richard the way one would inspect an animal in an iron trap. “You think you have won? You think you have spoiled my plans? Quite the contrary. You have unwittingly helped me by eliminating a very, very dangerous associate who had outlived his usefulness. The fool wanted to destroy the world of life. The world of life will find much more favor with me. I only want to rule it.
“Now that you have sent that lunatic spirit back to the world of the dead, the Shun-tuk will soon have subdued the palace, and I will finally–finally–be able to kill the Lord Rahl, and in his own fallen palace, no less.”
Hannis Arc took a step forward as he lifted his hands out to Kahlan and Richard, one to each of them.
Vika walked up behind the man, and without a word pressed her Agiel to the base of his skull.
Hannis Arc’s arms lifted, shaking and trembling with the agony of what Vika was doing to him. She showed no expression or mercy as she held her Agiel against him. Spittle flew from his mouth as he shook violently.
And then, all the tattoos on him began to smoke. The lines of each tattoo covering his head turned red-hot, like coals in a fire. The flesh bubbled and sizzled, smoke rising from his skin, as the symbols all over him continued to burn down into his flesh. The skin on his cheekbones detached along the lines of one of the symbols and flopped down, exposing burned and bloody bone.
Still, Vika stood emotionless behind him, holding her Agiel to the base of his skull.
As the lines of the tattoos all over his skin burned, the smell of it was gagging. Blood frothed at Hannis Arc’s mouth. His eyes bled. Blood ran out of his ears.
The man’s legs suddenly twisted unnaturally and he went down in a heap. Smoke rolled up from his burning flesh. There was no need to check that he was dead. The man was dead and his spirit probably already in the underworld, being swarmed by Sulachan’s dark demons, taking his soul down into the darkness of eternity.