Wizard's First Rule - Terry Goodkind [94]
“Kahlan! You have to let go or we’re dead! I won’t let them get you! Trust me! Let go!” He didn’t know if he was telling her the truth, but he was sure it was their only chance.
Her head pressed against his stomach as she clutched his body. Kahlan looked up at him, her face contorting in pain as the black thing squeezed. She screamed, then let go.
In a blink Richard was on his feet. As he jumped up, the dark wall materialized abruptly in front of him. His father reached out. He unleashed his rage, swinging the sword with every fiber of violence he possessed. The blade swept through the barrier, through the thing he knew wasn’t his father. The dark shape wailed, exploding into a cloud of nothingness.
Kahlan’s feet were at the wall, the dark thing enfolded tightly around her legs, compressing and pulling. He brought the sword up. Murderous need surged through him.
“Richard, no! It’s my sister!”
He knew it wasn’t, just as it wasn’t his father. He gave himself over completely to the hot need and brought the sword down as hard as he could. Again it swept through the wall, slashed through the repulsive thing that held Kahlan. There was a confusion of flashes, unearthly wailing and keening. Kahlan’s legs were free. She lay sprawled on her stomach.
Without looking to see what else was happening, Richard pushed his arm under her waist and lifted her in a single motion, scooping her off the ground. He held her tight against himself and held the sword toward the wall as he retreated from the boundary. Backing away steadily, he watched for any movement, any aggression. They left the green light.
He kept going until they were well clear, beyond the horses. When he stopped at last and released her, Kahlan turned and threw her arms around him, shaking. He had to struggle to restrain the rage that urged him to go back in and attack. He knew he would have to put the sword away to quell the anger, the need, but he didn’t dare to.
“The others, where are they?” she asked in a panic. “We have to find them.”
Kahlan pushed away from him and started to run back. Richard snatched her by the wrist, almost yanking her from her feet.
“Stay here!” he yelled far more angrily than required, pushing her to the ground.
Richard found Zedd in a heap, unconscious. As he bent to the old man, something swept out in a rush over his head. His anger erupted. He spun with the sword, the blade sweeping through the dark form. The stump reeled back into the boundary with a shrill screeching, the severed part vaporizing in midair. Richard picked up Zedd with one arm, threw him over his shoulder like a sack of grain, and carried him to Kahlan, where he laid him gently on the ground. She held the wizard’s head in her lap, inspecting for wounds. Richard ducked low as he ran back, but the expected attack didn’t come. He wished it would; he longed for the fight, hungered to strike. He found Chase jammed partway under a log. Richard seized the mail and pulled him over. Blood oozed from a gash on the side of Chase’s head. Debris was stuck to the wound.
Richard’s mind raced, trying to think what to do. He couldn’t lift Chase with one arm, and he didn’t dare to put the sword away. He did know he didn’t want Kahlan to come help, he wanted her to stay safely away. Getting a good grip on the warden’s leather tunic, Richard started dragging him. The slick bog weed eased the effort somewhat, but it was still difficult, because he had to go around several fallen trees. Surprisingly, nothing attacked. Maybe he had hurt it, or killed it. He wondered if it was possible to kill something already dead. The sword had magic. Richard wasn’t sure what it was capable of; he wasn’t even sure if the things in the boundary were dead. He finally reached Kahlan and Zedd, and dragged Chase close. The wizard was still unconscious.
Kahlan’s face was white with worry. “What are we going to do?”
Richard scanned around. “We can’t stay here, and we can’t leave them. Let’s put