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Richard gave Jessup a pat on the neck as he went past。 Jessup dropped his head and once again browsed at grass that wasn’t there； his lead line dragging the ground。 Richard froze in his tracks。
Sister Verna was gone。
Lightning exploded in every direction with deafening noise。 A bolt blasted the ground at his feet。 He leapt to the side to avoid the next strike。 His hair seemed to stand on end as the lightning hit。 He could feel the searing heat。 His vision was laced with blue…white afterimages of the jagged flashes。
Richard screamed out the Sister’s name as he gathered up the lead lines； pulling the horses on as he frantically scanned about。 The lightning seemed to follow him； striking the ground repeatedly where seconds ago he had been。
Balls of flame ignited in the air； shrieking as they came apart。 It seemed as if the very air burned。 The wail of the fire was everywhere。 Richard ran toward the gaps left after each dissipated； dodging the lightning and the flames； covering his head with a hand； even though he knew that if the magic hit him； that hand wouldn’t save him。 The cacophony seemed enough to drive a person mad。 The dark dust clouds prevented him from seeing anything； if indeed there was anything to see。 He ran on； heedless of direction； just trying to avoid the blue bolts and yellow flames。
Abruptly； the corner of white； polished marble walls loomed up before him。 Lurching to a panting halt； he looked up； but couldn’t see the top； it disappeared into the dark cloud above。 A strike that was too close for fort started him running again； pulling the three horses behind。 The middle of the wall had an arched opening in it。 Rounding the corner； he found that that wall； too； held an arched opening。
As he ran； he counted。 Each of the five sides of the structure was about thirty strides。 In the center of each wall was an arched opening six strides wide； and about as tall。 He stopped； catching his breath； outside one of the openings。 It was empty inside； and through the opening he could see each arch in the other walls。
Lightning hammered the ground； flinging dirt into the air。 He threw his arms up in front of his face。 The strikes marched toward him； their sound thundering in his ears。 He had nowhere to go。 He let go of the horses and dove through the arch； rolling across the sandy ground inside。
Silence echoed in his ears as he sat up； leaning back on his hands。 Inside the structure was barren； empty。 The air wasn’t sweltering； as it had been outside； but felt almost cool in parison； and smelled sweet； like a grassy meadow。
Through the arched openings he could see the boiling black clouds that hugged the ground。 The lightning arced violently； but its sound was only a dim rumble。 The horses wandered slowly； grazing on the grass that wasn’t there。
This must be one of the Towers of Perdition Sister Verna had told him about。 The interior of the walls soared up into the darkness high above； and were black with the results of Wizard’s Life Fire。 Richard ran a finger through the black grit and tasted it。 He winced at the bitter tang it left on his tongue。 The wizard who had died to give his life to this fire had not done so willingly； he had done it to save himself the torture of what they had intended to do to him； or perhaps what they were doing to him。
The ground was covered with white sand that sparkled with prismatic light。 It was drifted into the corners； like snow。 Richard remembered seeing sand like this before。 It was in the People’s Palace； in the Garden of Life； in a circle in the center of the room。 Darken Rahl had drawn spells in that sparkling white sand when he had been trying to open the boxes of Orden。
Richard paced around the inside of the tower； trying to decide what to do。 It seemed safe in this place； but for how long？ Surely； sooner or later； the magic would find him。
Maybe the seeming safety of this place was simply an enchantment meant to trap him； keep him here for all time； afraid to venture out。
He couldn’t stay。 He had to find the Sister。 She needed his help。 She was afraid。 He had told her she would make it through。
But why should he want to help her？ She kept him prisoner。 If he left her here； he would be free。 But free to do what？ If she didn’t help him learn to control the gift； he would die。 Or so she said。
Richard turned at a sound from behind。 Kahlan stepped out of the darkness of an archway。 Her long hair didn’t flow over her shoulders； but was tied back in a single braid。 Instead of her white Confessor’s dress； she wore the red leather of a Mord…Sith。
Richard stood stiffly； his chest heaving。 ‘Kahlan； I refuse to think of you in this way； even in an illusion drawn from my own mind。’
She arched an eyebrow。 ‘But isn’t this what you fear most？’
‘Change it； or be gone。’
The red leather shimmered and became the white Confessor’s dress he knew so well。 The braid came undone。
‘Better； my love？ I’m afraid it still won’t save you。 I have e to kill you。 Die with honor。 Defend yourself。’
Richard drew the Sword of Truth。 The unique ring of its steel echoed throughout the tower。 Wrath surged through him as the magic was loosed。 He endured with detached misery the sensation of murderous need while looking upon the face of the only person who made his life worth living。
His knuckles tightened on the braided； wire hilt； on the bumps of the word Truth。 His jaw muscles flexed as he gritted his teeth。 He felt a rush of understanding at how the wizards could have made Life Fire； and have given themselves into it； rather than endure what was to be done to them。 Some things were worse than death。
Richard tossed the sword to the ground at Kahlan’s feet。
‘Not even in an illusion； Kahlan。 I would rather die。’
Her green eyes shone with a sad； timeless； knowing look。 ‘Better you had died； my love； that you wouldn’t see what I have e to show you。 It will bring you more pain than death。’
Her eyes closed as she sank to her knees； leaning forward； bending into a deep bow。 The whole of the time she was slum