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Richard pictured it floating by itself on a field of black。 He studied the details he knew so well： the polished blade with the fuller down its length； the aggressive； downswept crossguards； the hilt covered in fine； twisted silver wire with twisted gold wire woven through it forming the raised letters of the word Truth。
As he pictured it； fixing it in his mind； floating on a black background； something fought him。 It was the background； not the sword。 Around the edge of the black was white； forming the black into a square。 Richard remembered it from before。
It was one of the instructions in the Book of Counted Shadows； the book he had memorized when he was a boy。 Clear your mind of all thought； and in its place put nothing but the image of white with a square of black in its center。 It was part of the instructions for removing the covers from the boxes of Orden and using the magic of the book。 He had used that magic to show Darken Rahl how to remove the cover from a box to prove to him he truly did know the book。 But why would it be in his mind now？ Just a random memory forcing its way to the surface； he decided。
It was as good a background as any to put the sword on。 After all； he was trying to use magic。 If his mind wanted to use it； it made no difference to him； he would let it be。 At that thought； the image of the sword and a square black background with white around it solidified and became still。
Richard concentrated on the mental image of the sword against the black square with the white border。 He concentrated as hard as he could。 Something began to happen。
The sword； the black square； and the white border all began to shimmer as if seen through heat waves。 The solid form of the sword softened。 It became transparent； and then it was gone。 The background dissolved。 He was looking into a place he knew。
The Garden of Life； at the People’s Palace。
Richard thought it odd； and somewhat annoying； that he wasn’t able to hold his concentration enough to keep the image of the sword in his mind。 The memory of the place where he killed Darken Rahl must have been so strong that it forced its way into his mind while he was relaxed。
He was about to try to force the image of the sword to e back when he smelled something。 Burned flesh。 The stench made his nostrils flare。 He almost gagged。 His stomach turned sickeningly。
He searched the image of the Garden of Life。 It was like looking through a dirty windowpane。 There were bodies lying over the short walls； fallen； partly hidden； in bushes； and sprawled on the grass。 All were hideously burned。 Some held weapons； swords or battle…axes； in charred fists。 Others lay with open hands； their weapons resting where they had tumbled as their owners fell dead。 Choking apprehension swelled in Richard’s chest。
Richard saw the back of a white； glowing figure standing before the stone altar； before the three boxes of Orden。 One of the boxes stood open； as Richard remembered。 The white figure with long blond hair lifted his face away from the boxes。
Darken Rahl turned and looked right into Richard’s eyes。 His blue eyes glowed。 A smile spread slowly on his lips。 It seemed as if Richard was helplessly pulled closer。 Closer to the grinning face。
Darken Rahl lifted a hand to his mouth and licked the tips of his fingers。 ‘Richard；’ he hissed。 ‘I’m waiting for you。 e watch while I tear the veil。’
Unable to draw a breath； Richard slammed the image of the sword back into his mind； like slamming a door。 He held it there； rigidly； without the background； as he tried to make himself breathe。
It was just a stray memory； and his fear； making him see the image； he told himself。 He concentrated on the sword as he finally decided that what he had seen wasn’t real； but maybe a manifestation of his heartache over Kahlan； and his lack of sleep。
That’s what it had to be。 It couldn’t have been real。 That would be impossible。 He would have to be insane to believe it had been real。
He opened his eyes。 Sister Verna was sitting calmly watching him。 She gave a heavy sigh … he thought maybe out of displeasure。
Richard swallowed。 ‘I’m sorry。 Nothing happened。’
‘Don’t be discouraged； Richard。 I did not expect anything to happen。 It takes a long time to learn to touch the Han。 It will happen when it happens。 There is no way to rush it。 It does no good to push too hard； it es from finding the inner peace and not by force。 That is long enough for today。’
‘A few minutes？ That’s all you want me to try？’
She lifted an eyebrow。 ‘You have had your eyes closed for over an hour。’
He stared at her； and then glanced to the sun。 It seemed to have jumped up into the sky。 Over an hour。 How was that possible？ A tingle of apprehension spread through him。
She cocked her head。 ‘It seemed only a few minutes to you？’
Richard stood。 He didn’t like the frown on her face。 ‘I don’t know。 I wasn’t paying any attention。 I guess it did feel like an hour。’
He started packing the few things he had taken out。 The more he thought about what he had seen； the more unreal it seemed。 It began to feel like a dream after waking； the fear； the hard edges； the reality； fading。 He began to feel foolish for being so frightened by a dream。
A dream？ He hadn’t been sleeping。 How could he have been dreaming when he was awake？
Maybe he hadn’t been awake。 He had been dead tired。 Maybe while he was sitting there concentrating on the sword； he had fallen asleep。 That’s how he went to sleep； sometimes： by concentrating on something until he drifted off。 That was the only explanation for the time going so fast。 He was asleep； and the rest of it had been a dream。
He let out a heavy breath。 He felt silly for having been so frightened； but he felt relieved； too。 When he turned； Sister Verna was still watching him。
‘Do you wish to shave now？ Now that I have shown you I only wish to help you。’
Richard straightened。 ‘I told you： prisoners don’t shave。’
‘You are not a prisoner； Richard。’
He stuffed his blanket into his pack；