Harris went to the right, to the nearest series of cubbyholes holding rolled plans. He pointed up at the label in the top of the arch.
“See? Everything is numbered and labeled so you can find the plan you need if you know the section name in the palace. If you don’t, there is a map of each floor over there where each section is labeled. This section between pillars and the ones next to it are all ‘W.’ We need sections with ‘M’ at the top.”
The five Mord-Sith spread out, going around the room, looking at the letter at the top of each arch.
“Here they are,” Cassia called out from the far-right corner. “Section M.”
“See here?” Harris asked when they reached the section she had found. “They’re organized in vertical rows. Here are rows A and then rows B and so on. Depending on the number of areas with rolled plans, those rows might continue on the other side of the pillar.”
He trailed his finger down one row and then down two more before he leaned in to check the numbers on the bottom of the cubbyholes. He had to go to the end of the section they were in; then he pulled out a long, rolled plan. At the nearest table he spread it out, putting weights each table had on the sides to keep the plans from rolling back up.
He pointed. “See, it’s written here, down at the bottom. ‘M111-B.’”
Richard, standing at the edge of the table, looking down at the diagram, leaned in a little. Everyone to either side leaned in, looking with him. Richard was the only one who actually knew what he was looking at.
He stared at what he was seeing, hardly able to believe it.
“What’s wrong?” Kahlan asked. “Your face just turned white.”
“Lord Rahl, what is it?” Shale asked in the dragging silence.
Richard’s gaze traced all of the passageways, the rooms, the circular halls, the dead ends, the entrapments, the false helix, the lateral routes, the complex of twinned and tripled passageways, checking, hoping he was wrong.
He wasn’t.
“We’re in trouble,” he said, not really having intended to say it out loud.
13
“Why are we in trouble?” Kahlan asked, alarmed by the way he was acting. He seemed not to hear her. “Richard, why are we in trouble?”
She finally had to put a finger on the side of his jaw and turn his face toward her to get him to pay attention.
“What?”
“You said we’re in trouble. Why are we in trouble?”
Richard straightened and took a step away from the table as he raked his fingers back through his hair.
“Richard,” Kahlan said again, this time with exaggerated patience, drawing his name out to make him look at her, “what do you see? What is it?”
He stared at her for a long moment. “It’s a complication.”
“Well, I can see by the weird and confusing design of the place that it looks incredibly complicated. But what do you see?”
He was shaking his head even as she was talking.
“No. You don’t understand. It’s a complication.” He swept a hand out over the plan. “This kind of design is called a complication.”
Shale looked exasperated. “You mean it’s an exceedingly complicated maze? We all can see that. Is that what you mean to say?”
“No,” Richard said, irritably, as if no one was really paying attention to what he was saying. “No. I mean it’s a complication.”
“Richard,” Kahlan said, pinching the bridge of her nose with a finger and thumb as she let out a composing breath, “I know you think that should explain it, but we don’t understand what that means to you. You need to tell us what you mean by that. What are you trying to say?”
Kahlan knew that Richard’s unorthodox way of thinking often galloped so far out ahead of what they saw, taking into account things only he knew about or understood, that he often seemed to make no sense. It was one of the reasons the Mord-Sith, along with others, sometimes said he acted crazy. It seemed that way to people because they didn’t understand what was in his head.
“It’s a complication. That’s what this kind of design is called. That is the name for it: a complication.” Richard lifted an arm, indicating everything above. “This whole place is laid out atop a spell-form drawn on the ground.”
“The People’s Palace,” Kahlan said, nodding, “yes, we know that. We know the palace is a spell-form.”
Shale leaned in, holding a hand against her arm. “A what? A spell-form? Now what are you talking about? You’re beginning to sound as crazy as him.”
Richard squinted at her in a way that told Kahlan he was having a hard time believing Shale would ask something so basic. “You know … a spell-form.”
Shale folded her arms and straightened without saying anything, clearly not understanding and expecting him to explain.
Richard took a settling breath to back himself up. “Well, you know what a Grace is, right?”
“A Grace?” Shale squinted with uncertainty at what we was getting at. “Well yes, my mother and father taught me to draw a Grace when I was little. I know what a Grace is. What does that have to do with anything?”
Richard leaned toward her a bit. “A Grace is an example of a spell-form. The lines that make up the Grace, the design of it, is called a spell-form.” He moved his finger around in the air before him as if drawing a Grace. “When you drew the Grace you were drawing one example of a spell-form.”
It was Shale’s turn to frown. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. A Grace is a Grace is a Grace.”
Richard threw up his hands in exasperation. “A Grace is a spell-form! Like any spell-form it can be drawn in different ways for different purposes.”
“Different purposes? Now what are you talking about?”
“Think of the spell-form this way. Imagine a plan drawn for a building. That’s called a building design, right? But the resulting building can be different, depending on how you draw the design. Do you see what I mean? It can have more rooms or more floors drawn on the design and the resulting reality in brick and mortar will be a reflection of how the design was drawn.”
She stared openly at him a moment. “So, a spell-form, such as the Grace, can be drawn in different ways?”
“Of course. Didn’t your parents warn you never to draw it in blood? Or out of order?”
“Well, obviously.”
“That’s because a Grace is a spell-form, and like all spell-forms, since they involve magic, if not drawn correctly they can cause great trouble. There are certain spell-forms that are lethal if drawn incorrectly or in the wrong order. Some, like the Grace, if deliberately drawn by a strongly gifted person in certain ways other than the formal procedure like you were taught, can be used to invoke any number of things.”
“Any number of things?” Shale was still frowning as she watched him. “Like what?”
“Well, drawn by the right person, in a specific order and manner, a Grace can conjure up the world of the dead. The Grace is only one of many examples of spell-forms, some of them very minor and relatively unimportant and some quite consequential.”
Shale shook her head to herself. “I’m afraid that where I grew up the gifted were few and far between. I never learned anything about spell-forms, other than what my parents taught me about how to draw the Grace.”
Richard cooled a bit, turning sympathetic. “I understand. I grew up in a place without magic. I’ve since had to learn about it. One of the things I had to learn is the language of Creation. The language of Creation actually uses some elements of spell-forms because it’s representational language.”