Soul of the Fire (46 page)

Kolo wrote about those communications, at least the ones he found interesting, significant, or curious, but he didn’t give complete accounts of them; he would have had no reason to reproduce them in his private journal. Richard doubted Kolo ever intended anyone to read the journals. Kolo’s habit was to briefly mention the pertinent information from a message, and then remark on the matter at hand, so the information Richard read on the reports had been frustratingly sketchy—and opinionated.

Kolo set down more information when he was frightened, seeming almost to use his journal as a way to think through a problem in an effort to find a solution. There was a period of time when he had been very frightened by what the reports were saying in regard to the chimes. In several places Kolo wrote down what he had read in reports, almost as if to justify his fear, to underscore for himself his grounds for concern.

Richard recalled Kolo mentioning the wizard who had been sent to deal with the chimes: Ander. Somebody Ander—Richard couldn’t remember the whole name.

Wizard Ander proudly bore the cognomen “the Mountain.” Apparently, he was big. Kolo didn’t like the man, though, and in his private journal often derisively referred to him as “the Moral Molehill.” Richard gathered from Kolo’s journal that Ander thought a lot of himself.

Richard clearly remembered at one point Kolo expressing indignation that people were failing to properly apply the Wizard’s Fifth Rule: Mind what people do, not only what they say, for deeds will betray a lie.

Kolo had seemed incensed when he scrawled that by not minding the totality of the actions people were failing to properly apply the Fifth Rule to Wizard Ander. He complained that if they had, they would have easily discovered that the man’s true allegiance lay solely with himself, and not with the good of his people.

“
You still have not said what the chimes are,” Cara said.

Richard felt the insistent breeze tug at his hair and his golden cloak, as if urging him onward. To where, he didn’t know. Here and there bugs lifted out of the wet spring grass to loop through the air. Far off to the east, backlit by the billowing honeyed storm clouds, the dark dots of geese in an undulating V formation were winging their way north.

Richard had never given any serious thought to the chimes when the subject came up at the wedding. Zedd had dismissed their concern, and besides, Richard’s mind was on other things.

But later, after the chicken had been killed outside the spirit house, after Juni had been murdered, after the chicken thing gave him gooseflesh every time it was anywhere near, and after Zedd had filled in some of the details, Richard’s rising sense of alarm had caused him to give himself over to recalling everything he could about the chimes. At the time, he had been searching Kolo’s journal for solutions to other problems, and hadn’t been paying particular attention to the information on the chimes, but nearly constant concentration and occasional trancelike effort had brought back a great deal.

“
The chimes are ancient beings spawned in the underworld. The Grace must be breached to bring them into the world of life. Being from the underworld, they were conjured from the Subtractive side alone, and so create an imbalance once in this world. Magic needs balance. Being totally Subtractive, their mere presence here requires Additive Magic for them to exist in this state, since existence is a form of Additive power, and so the chimes drain magic away from this world as long as they’re here.”

Cara, never being one with any outward appearance of an aptitude for magic, appeared only more confused than ever by his answer. Richard understood her confusion. He didn’t know much about magic, either, and barely had a grasp of what he had just told her. He wasn’t even convinced it was accurate.

“
But how do they do that?” she asked.

“
You might think of the world of life as like a barrel of water. The chimes are a hole in that barrel that has just been uncorked, letting the water drain away. Once the water all drains off, the barrel will dry out, the staves will shrink, and it will no longer be the container it once was. You might say it is then a dead shell, only resembling what it once was.

“
The chimes’ mere existence here drains magic away from the world of life, like that hole in the barrel, but also, as a way to bring them into this world, they were conjured as creatures. They have a nature of their own. They can kill.

“
Being creatures of magic they have the ability, if they wish, to take on the appearance of the creature they kill—such as a chicken—but they retain all the power of what they truly are. When I shot the chicken with an arrow, the chime fled its phantom form. From the beginning, the real chicken had been lying dead behind the wall; the chime only borrowed its form as a pattern—as a disguise—to taunt us.”

Cara took on the unfamiliar countenance of worry. “You mean to tell me”—she glanced at the people around her—“that anyone here could really be a chime?”

“
From what I gather, they’re conjured creatures and have no soul, so they can’t take on the appearance of a person—just animals. According to Zedd, the converse is true; Jagang has a soul and so can only enter the mind of a person because a soul is needed.

“
When the wizards created weapons out of people, those things they created still had souls. That was how they could be controlled, at least to some extent. The chimes, once here, could not be governed. That was one of the things that made them so dangerous. It’s like trying to reason with lightning.”

“
All right”—Cara held up a finger as if making a mental note for herself—“so it couldn’t be a person. That’s good.” She gestured to the sky. “But could it be that one of those meadowlarks is a chime?”

Richard glanced up at the yellow-breasted birds flitting past. “I guess so. If it could be a chicken, it surely could kill any animal and take its form. It wouldn’t need to, though.” Richard pointed at the wet ground. “It could just as easily be hiding in that puddle at your feet. Some apparently have an affinity for water.”

Cara looked down at the puddle and then took a step back.

“
You mean the chime that killed Juni was hiding in the water? Stalking him?”

Richard glanced briefly at Chandalen and then with a single nod acknowledged his belief that it was so.

“
Chimes hide, or wait, in dark places,” he went on. “They somehow travel along the edges of things, such as cracks in rock, or along the water’s edge. I’m assuming so, anyway; the way Kolo put it was that they slip along borders, where this meets that. Some hide in fire, and they can travel on sparks.”

He glanced at Kahlan out of the corner of his eye as he recalled the way the house of the dead—where Juni’s body lay—had burst into flame. “When annoyed or angered, they will sometimes burn a place down, just for spite.

“
It was said that some are of such beauty that to see them is to take your breath away—forever. They are only vaguely visible, unless you catch their attention. Kolo’s journal made it sound like once the victim sees them, they’re partially shaped by the victim’s own desire, and that desire is irresistible. That must be how they were able to seduce people to their death.

“
Maybe that’s what happened to Juni. Maybe he saw something so beautiful that he abandoned his weapons, his judgment, even his common sense and followed it down into the water where he drowned.

“
Yet others crave attention and like to be worshiped. I guess, because they came from the underworld, they share the Keeper’s hunger for veneration. It was said that some even protected those who uncritically revered them, but it’s a dangerous balancing act. It lulls them, according to what Kolo said. But if you stop worshiping them, they will turn on you.

“
They enjoy most the hunt, never tiring of it. They hunt people. They are without mercy. They enjoy especially killing with fire.

“
The full translation of their name from High D’Haran roughly means ‘the chimes of doom,’ or ‘the chimes of death.’”

Du Chaillu was scowlingly silent. The Baka Tau Mana blade masters for the most part managed to continue to look indifferent, aloof, and relaxed, but they had a new restiveness in their posture that to Richard was inescapable.

“
Either way,” Cara said with a sigh, “I think we can grasp the idea.”

Chandalen, listening attentively, finally spoke up. “But you do not believe this, Mother Confessor? You believe what Zedd had to say, that it is not these chimes of death?”

Kahlan met Richard’s gaze before addressing Chandalen. Her tone wasn’t harsh.

“
Zedd’s explanation of the problem is in many ways similar, and so could just as easily account for what’s happened, but being similar, it would be no less dangerous. The important difference, from what he told us, is that when we get to Aydindril we will be able to halt the trouble. I reluctantly hold Zedd was right. I don’t believe it’s the chimes.”

“
I wish that were the case, I really do, because as you said when we get to Aydindril we could counter it,” Richard said. “but it’s the chimes. I would guess Zedd simply wanted to get us out of harm’s way while he saw to trying to solve the problem of sending the chimes back to the underworld.”

“
Lord Rahl is the magic against magic,” Cara said to Kahlan. “He would know best about this. He believes it is the chimes, so it must be the chimes.”

Sighing in frustration, Kahlan pushed her long hair back over her shoulder.

“
Richard, you’re talking yourself into believing this is the chimes. By talking about it as being true, you’re starting to convince Cara, just as you’ve convinced yourself. Just because you’re afraid of it being true, you’re giving it more credence than it deserves.”

She was obviously reminding him of the Wizard’s First Rule, suggesting that he was believing a lie.

Richard weighed the fiery determination so evident in her green eyes. He needed her to help him. He couldn’t face this alone.

He finally decided he had no choice. Asking everyone to wait, he put an arm around her shoulders and walked her away so he could be sure the others wouldn’t hear.

He needed her to believe in him. He no longer had any choice.

He had to tell her.

Kahlan went willingly as he walked her off through the wet grass, more content to argue with him alone than in front of everyone else. For Richard’s part, he didn’t want to tell her what he had to say in front of others.

Over his shoulder, Richard saw Chandalen’s hunters leaning casually on their spears, spears dipped in poison. They looked to lazily wait for Richard and Kahlan to finish their talk and return. He knew there was nothing lazy about them. He could see they were strategically positioned to keep the Baka Tau Mana under guard. This was their land, after all, and despite them knowing Richard, the Baka Tau Mana were outsiders.

The Baka Tau Mana, for their part, looked completely indifferent to the Mud People hunters. The blade masters spoke a few nonchalant words to one another, looked out at the storm clouds on the horizon, or stretched and yawned.

Richard had fought Baka Ban Mana blade masters; he knew they were anything but indifferent. They were poised to kill. Having lived a tenuous existence surrounded by enemies bent on destroying them, their nature, by training, was to be prepared to kill at any moment.

When Richard had been with Sister Verna and they had first encountered the blade masters, he had asked her if they were dangerous. Sister Verna told him that when she was young, she had seen a Baka Ban Mana blade master who had gotten into the garrison in Tanimura kill nearly fifty well-armed soldiers before he was taken down. She said they fought as if they were invincible spirits, and that some people believed they were.

Richard wouldn’t like some small lapse in judgment or misstep in understanding to bring the Mud People and the Baka Tau Mana to a fight. They were all too good at fighting.

Cara, looking anything but dispassionate, painted them all with her glares.

Like the three sides of a triangle, the Mud People, the Baka Tau Mana, and Cara were all part of the same struggle. They were all allied to Richard and Kahlan, and to their cause, even though each looked at the world differently. They all valued most of the same things in life. Family, friends, hard work, honesty, duty, loyalty, freedom.

Kahlan placed her hand gently but insistently on his chest.

“
Richard, despite anything else I’m feeling at the moment, I know your heart is in the right place, but you simply aren’t being reasonable. You’re the Seeker of Truth; you have to stop insisting you’re right and see the truth of this. We can stop the Sisters’ magic and their Lurk. Zedd and Ann will counter the spell. Why are you being so obstinate?”