Wizard's First Rule - Terry Goodkind [49]
“Wait! I must have the answers to my questions! Please, don’t leave me!”
“We’re sorry, it is not our choice, we are called back behind the veil.”
“Why is Rahl after Richard? Please help me.”
His father’s voice was weak and distant. “We don’t know. You must search for the answers yourself. We have trained you well. You are more talented than we ever were. Use what you were taught and what you feel. We love you, son. Until this is settled, one way or the other, we cannot come to you again. With Orden in play, coming again could tear the veil.”
His mother kissed her hand and held it out to him as he did the same in return, and then they were gone.
Zeddicus Zu’l Zorander, the great and honorable wizard, stood alone on the wizard’s rock his father had given him, and stared out into the night, thinking wizard’s thoughts.
“Nothing is ever easy,” he whispered.
CHAPTER 8
Richard came awake with a start. Warm midday light filled the room, and the wonderful, tangy aroma of spice soup filled his lungs. He was in his room at Zedd’s house. He looked up at the familiar knots in the wood walls, and the faces he always made them into in his mind stared back. The door to the front room stood shut. A chair waited next to the bed, empty. He sat up, pushing the covers down, and saw that he still wore his dirty clothes. He felt for the tooth under his shirt and sighed in relief when he found it still there, safe. A short stick held the window open a few inches, letting in fresh air and the sound of Kahlan’s laughter. Zedd must be telling stories, he thought. Richard looked at his left hand. It was wrapped but no longer sore when he flexed his fingers. His head didn’t hurt anymore, either. In fact, he felt wonderful. Hungry, but wonderful. He amended that to dirty, in filthy clothes, and hungry, but wonderful.
A tub of bathwater, soap, and clean towels sat in the center of the small room. A clean outfit of his forest garb was folded and stacked neatly on the chair. The bathwater looked deliciously inviting. He dipped his hand in and found the water warm. Zedd must have known when he would wake. Knowing Zedd as well as he did, that didn’t surprise him.
Richard undressed and slipped into the welcoming water. The soap smelled almost as good to him as the soup. He liked to stay in the tub for a good long soak, but he felt too wide awake for soaking, and was eager to be outside with the other two. Unwrapping the hand, he was surprised to find how much it had healed overnight.
When he came out, Kahlan and Zedd were sitting at the table waiting for him. Kahlan’s dress was freshly washed, he noticed, and she looked bathed, too. Her hair was clean and glistened in the sunlight. Green eyes sparkled up at him. A big bowl of soup waited for him next to her at the table, along with cheese and fresh bread.
“I wouldn’t have expected to have slept until noon,” he said, swinging his leg over the bench. They both laughed. Richard eyed them suspiciously.
Kahlan straightened her face. “This is the second noon you have slept to, Richard.”
“Yes,” Zedd added, “you slept right through the first. How do you feel? How is your hand?”
“I’m fine. Thank you, Zedd, for helping me. Thank you both.” He opened and closed his fingers to show them the improvement. “The hand feels much better, except it itches.”
“My mother always said that if it itched, that meant it was getting better.”
Richard grinned at her. “Mine too.” He fished a piece of potato and a mushroom into his spoon and tasted it. “It’s as good as mine,” he said to her earnestly.
She sat crosswise on the bench, facing toward him, her elbow resting on the table with the side of her jaw nestled in the heel of her hand. She gave him a knowing smile. “Zedd tells it differently.”
Richard cast a reproachful eye at Zedd, who looked up at the sky in an exaggerated manner. “Does he now? I will have to remind him of that the next time he is begging me to make