Wizard's First Rule - Terry Goodkind [218]
“Not as much as it hurts you,” the woman in front of him whispered.
Richard’s eyes went wide; bumps ran up his arms. “How do you…”
“Richard,” came an even, cautioning voice from behind him, jolting him again. “Stand away from her.” It was Zedd’s voice.
His mother’s hand cupped the side of his face. He ignored it and turned his head, looking back up the road, to the top of the rise. It was Zedd, or at least he thought it was Zedd. It looked just like Zedd, but then, this looked just like his mother. Zedd was standing there, with a look he recognized, a look of cold danger, warning.
“Richard,” came Zedd’s voice again. “Do as I say. Stand away from her. Now.”
“Please, Richard,” his mother breathed, “don’t leave me. Don’t you know me?”
Richard turned to her soft face. “Yes. You are Shota.”
He took her wrists, pulled her hands from his waist, and stepped back from her. Near tears, she watched him move away.
Suddenly, she spun toward the wizard. Her hands snapped up. With an earsplitting crack, blue lightning erupted from her fingers, streaking toward Zedd. The wizard’s hands instantly brought up a shield, like glass, reflecting light in its gloss. The lightning from Shota hit it with a thunderous peal and glanced off, striking a huge oak, snapping its trunk in a shower of splinters. The tree crashed to earth. The ground shuddered.
Zedd’s hands were already up. Wizard’s fire shot from his curled fingers. It shrieked as it came, tumbling through the air with howling fury.
“No!” Richard screamed.
The ball of liquid flame harshly illuminated the shady area with intense blue and yellow light.
He couldn’t let this happen! Shota was the only way to find the box! The only way to stop Rahl!
The fire wailed as it expanded, heading right for Shota. She stood motionless.
“No!” Richard yanked the sword free and jumped in front of her. Gripping the hilt in one hand, the point in the other, with arms locked, he held it up horizontally in front of himself, as a shield.
The magic raced through him. Wrath took him. The fire was upon him. The roar filled his ears. He turned his face, closed his eyes, held his breath, gritted his teeth, fully expecting that he might die. But there was no choice. The witch woman was their only chance. He couldn’t let her be killed.
The impact staggered him back a step. He felt the heat. Even with his eyes tightly closed, he could see the light. The wizard’s fire wailed in rage as it struck the sword, exploding around him.
And then there was silence. He opened his eyes. The wizard’s fire was gone. Zedd wasted no time. Already he was throwing a handful of magic dust. It sparkled as it came. Richard saw something coming from behind him, magic dust from the witch woman. It shimmered like ice crystals, taking the sparkle from Zedd’s dust, and slammed into him.
Zedd stood frozen, unmoving, one hand in the air.
“Zedd!”
There was no reply. Richard spun to the witch woman. She was no longer his mother. Shota wore a wispy dress with variegated shades of gray across its gauzy surface, its folds and loose points floating in the light breeze. Her full, thick hair was a wavy auburn, her smooth skin flawless. Almond eyes shone up at him. She was as beautiful as the palace that stood behind her, the valley around her. She was so attractive, it almost took his breath away, and would have, were it not for the rage he was feeling.
“My hero,” she said in a voice that was no longer his mother’s, but silky, clear, easy. A sly smile came to her full lips. “Totally unnecessary, but it’s the thought that counts. I am impressed.”
“And who is this supposed to be? Another vision from my mind? Or is this the real Shota?” Richard was enraged. He recognized all too well the anger from the sword, but decided to keep the weapon out.
Her smile widened. “Are those clothes really you?