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Chapter Text

Kahlan stood, hands on her hips, watching from a distance while Richard and Zedd bound Cara to the tree. Her heart was crying out against what she knew she would have to do, even as duty steeled her bones and made her hands tingle with power. Not since she was still under her father's power could she remember being so disgusted by her own nature.

“You know what you have to do, Richard. But we both know you don't have the stomach for it.” Cara's mocking words were directed at Richard, but Kahlan's own gut twisted in response. Zedd stepped forward and waved his hand over the captured Mord-Sith, and Kahlan watched with horror as the magic burned its way to the surface of her skin. She was aware of Zedd and Richard talking, but all she heard were Cara's suppressed grunts of pain. The men retreated back toward Kahlan, and she tore her eyes away from Cara as Zedd began to speak.

“We may have to accept the fact that the Cara we know is gone forever.”

Gone forever. Kahlan tried to cling to those words, even as her heart refused to accept them. If she could make herself believe them, it might make this bearable. She tried to concentrate on the conversation, but her eyes kept drifting back to Cara. It had only been a few days since she had been stuck in that valley with Richard, since she'd realized that Richard's feelings for her far exceeded her feelings for him. Sitting with him in the forest, hearing him profess just how much he loved her, had brought only one thing to the forefront of her mind: Cara.

She had ached for Richard, for the knowledge that she would have to break his heart, but a giddiness had filled her as her own feelings became clear to her. She'd been agonizing for weeks over what she felt for the blonde, trying to untangle the mess of emotions: desire, friendship, sisterly affection, all tinged with a stubborn, lingering hatred for the woman who had personally ensured that she would be the last Confessor. It had taken Richard's unbridled declaration of love and devotion to boil all of her feelings down to their simplest form: she loved Cara. With all of her being, against all she had been taught, she loved Cara more than she could imagine loving anyone. And now she would never get the chance to tell her.

“There is one way,” Kahlan's heart jumped to her throat as she locked her gaze on the Wizard, a small flicker of hope igniting in her eyes, “but the results are unpredictable. It's a spell I learned, years ago in the Wizard's Keep, but I've never dared use it. It's called the Spell of Undoing.”

Tears sprung to Kahlan's eyes as her hope was dashed. She couldn't let Zedd perform that spell. The Confessors didn't learn much about wizard magic, it being irrelevant to their studies, but with the Wizard's Keep so close to the Palace, every Confessor had heard rumors of the Spell of Undoing. It had the potential to unravel existence itself, if cast carelessly without thought to every possible ramification. There was too much they didn't know about what had happened to Cara, about the exact nature of the magic used to break her, and they didn't have the luxury of time to find all of the answers.

Kahlan pushed her grief down, locking it away as Richard railed on about not giving up on the Mord-Sith. She braced herself for the argument to come, then placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Richard, no.” Her voice was resigned yet firm, but Richard could feel her hand trembling against him. “It's too dangerous. We can't risk the fate of the world for one woman.”

The Seeker looked at Kahlan in shock. “How can you just give up on her? After everything she's done for us?” He had watched as the two women grew closer, taking pride in being the one to foster friendship between such mortal enemies. He had thought Kahlan cared more than this. The accusation in his voice shook Kahlan's resolve, and she closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall.

“Please, Richard. Don't make this harder for me.” Her voice cracked, and her hand tightened on his shoulder as she clutched at every strand of willpower she possessed. “If there were any other way, if we had more time-”

“No!” Richard spat, shaking Kahlan's hand away. “Zedd, do the spell. Now.”

Zedd let out a defeated sigh. “My boy, I'm afraid Kahlan is right. We have to consider more than just ourselves and our own desires in this. The Cara we know would gladly sacrifice her own life to serve you, Richard, and in so doing, serve all of humanity.”

Richard stepped back, his gaze flickering between Zedd, Kahlan, and the woman who had given up everything she had known to help him in his quest. He knew they were right, but it felt like a betrayal of everything he was. How could he stand by and watch as the woman he loved willingly destroyed one of his closest friends?

“I can't.” He said quietly, hanging his head in resignation. Before Zedd or Kahlan could protest, he continued. “I can't watch. If you're going to do this, I can't watch. I'll go keep watch, make sure there aren't any more Mord-Sith lurking around.”

Kahlan watched him walk away, bracing herself for what came next. Ever since the words “I don't know” had escaped Dahlia's lips, she had known what she would have to do. Gathering her strength, she schooled her features into the emotionless mask that was almost second nature to her. Zedd didn't speak, just lay a comforting hand on her shoulder, providing what meager support he could. Taking a deep breath, Kahlan stepped forward, letting the wizard's hand fall back to his side. This was something she would have to do on her own.

As she approached, Kahlan noticed for the first time how much Cara was fidgeting. She'd never seen the Mord-Sith so restless; Cara was always in control of her actions, wasting no energy on excess movement. Now, the tension rolled off of her in waves as she looked anywhere but at the Confessor, her arrogant smirk fading into cold defiance.

Stopping in front of the bound woman, Kahlan reached out and cradled Cara's face in her hands, briefly wondering if the resulting flinch was in anticipation of being confessed, or a reaction to being touched in kindness, rather than anger. Cara was silent, her eyes stubbornly unreadable, but Kahlan searched desperately for some small semblance of the woman she had come to love. She found none.

She couldn't stop herself from leaning in, brushing her lips over the blonde's forehead, then ever-so-softly over Cara's own. The kiss was chaste, more so than she'd given her own sister, but her heart broke at how right it felt, even as Cara's expression remained proudly stoic, refusing to respond. A tear finally escaped down Kahlan's cheek as she moved away, raising her hand to grasp Cara's throat firmly.

“I'm sorry, Cara.” Her voice wavered, but her resolve didn't. Her blue eyes shone with love as they locked onto defiant green, magic swelling up in her as both turned black.

The power slammed through Cara's body, colliding with the dark magic conjured by the Sisters of the Dark. As Kahlan recovered from the use of her powers, she watched in dismay as Cara was immediately wracked with pain. The woman's throat grew so hot it nearly burned her hand, and she snatched it away as Cara convulsed in agony.

Panicked, Kahlan looked back at the wizard. “Zedd, what's happening to her? This isn't how confession works!”

Bewildered, Zedd moved to Kahlan's side. He extended a hand toward Cara, reaching out with his power to try to gauge what was happening. He drew back almost instantly, feeling almost as though he'd stuck his hand in a fire. He could not gather any information this way. He looked down at Kahlan apologetically. “I'm sorry, my dear, I couldn't tell you. It's most likely a reaction between your power and the dark magic used to break her.”

Desperation filled Kahlan as she grasped Cara's shoulders, ignoring the heat as she tried to get the woman to look at her. “Cara! Cara, where is Rahl taking the Stone?”

Cara was barely able to make out Kahlan's voice through the waves of pain engulfing her body. She opened her mouth to respond, but all that came out was an agonized scream. Kahlan watched with horror as magic swirled over the surface of Cara's skin, twisting her nerve endings in varying combinations to elicit as much pain as possible. The ropes binding her to the tree chafed at her as she struggled, finally burning holes in the leather and slashing angry welts across her skin.

Kahlan saw this, and sprang into action, tearing at the knots holding Cara captive. “Zedd, help me!” Warily, Zedd waved his hand, and the blonde collapsed into Kahlan's arms as the bonds were released. She slowly lowered them both to the ground, cradling Cara's body in her lap. Tears were now flowing freely down Kahlan's face as Cara's screams tore through her, guilt wracking her frame as she rocked back and forth, clutching Cara's shaking body to her chest. She'd destroyed the woman she loved, for nothing.

Images flooded her mind, unbidden, of Cara chained in a Mord-Sith temple, Cara writhing in pain as Rahl tried to break her. Of Cara, doing everything in her power to resist, willing to die before serving Rahl again. A bitter taste rose in her mouth as she thought of Darken Rahl. They would find him. Even though Cara couldn't tell them anything, they would find him. And then Kahlan would kill him. Slowly, and painfully. She couldn't confess him, which was unfortunate. Briefly, her mind indulged in fantasies of commanding him to torture himself to death while she watched. It was a pity she would be forced to use her daggers to inflict the torment, but in a way it was more fitting. She would look him in the eyes as she slowly bled the life from his body.

Such thoughts would ordinarily horrify Kahlan, who had been taught for most of her life that violence was nothing more than a necessary evil. Now, the only fault she could find in her plan was that it wouldn't come close to being what the bastard deserved.

Kahlan was so wrapped up in her thoughts of revenge that it took her a few moments to realize that Cara was no longer moving. A sob poured from her lips as she held the limp body tightly to her, murmuring Cara's name through her tears. Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she looked up at Zedd. The pain that radiated from her eyes took the wizard by surprise. He'd known the two women had grown close, but Kahlan looked completely shattered.

“Kahlan, I think it's over.” It broke his heart to say it, to pull Kahlan back into reality, but they couldn't forget their quest. “We need to find Richard and keep moving.”

Kahlan didn't answer him, but lowered the body to the ground, grief warring with duty. Sniffing back tears, she gently ran a hand over Cara's pale cheek, memorizing the softness of her skin. She gasped as a weak breath brushed her wrist. Urgently, she moved her fingers to Cara's throat, finding a faint but steady pulse.

“Zedd, she's alive!” Her voice was overflowing with joy and disbelief as she looked up at the wizard, hope shining in her eyes. “How can that be?”

Zedd was at a loss. “I don't know, child. I've never seen anything like what just happened. I can only guess that somehow the confession canceled out the dark magic, leaving Cara's life intact. I wouldn't have thought that a person's body could withstand such torment.”

A small smile touched Kahlan's lips as her gaze returned to the unconscious woman. “If anyone could, it would be Cara.”

“Kahlan,” Zedd began hesitantly, not wanting to cause the Confessor any more pain, but unable to ignore the obvious conclusion. “If she awakes, it is likely that her mind will still not be her own. Two magics battled within her today; it follows that one of them will have won. Whether she will still be under Rahl's power, or she will be confessed, I cannot say.”

Kahlan's smile faded as she considered that Zedd was probably right. She looked back down at Cara's face, peaceful in her unconscious state. Could she live with herself if Cara survived, only to be a shadow of her former self, her free will obliterated? Or worse, to have pushed herself to do the worst thing she could imagine, for the sake of duty, and to have it amount to nothing? To be back at square one, with less options than when they had started? She let out a heavy sigh, fingers moving to rub the bridge of her nose.

“We'll deal with that problem if and when it comes. For now, Zedd, she's alive. I can't help but rejoice in that.”

Zedd nodded, satisfied that Kahlan was still being realistic. “Why don't you stay with her while I go retrieve Richard. He'll want to know what's happened.” At Kahlan's nod, the wizard gave her one last wary look before turning in the direction Richard went.

Still holding Cara in her arms, Kahlan leaned down to drop a kiss on the blonde's temple, murmuring soft words into her skin.

“Come back to me, Cara.”

Chapter Text

When Cara regained consciousness, the first thing she knew was pain. Her very bones screamed, every one of her muscles ached, the newly-dressed wounds on her wrists and ankles throbbed with every labored beat of her heart. It was not an unfamiliar sensation, nor was it entirely unwelcome. It was...comfortable, in a way that only a Mord-Sith could appreciate.

Slowly, she became aware of other sensations. The cold metal of a buckle brushing her cheek in a steady rhythm, the subtle shifting of soft, solid thighs beneath her head, the gentle whisper of slender fingers stroking the side of her face. Dahlia? The ground beneath her was too soft and varied to be the floor of the training room, although she certainly felt as though she'd spent hours in the chains.

Her eyes blinked open, revealing little more than blurs of color. Something wasn't right. The leather was the wrong color, a muted green rather than blood red. The face leaning over her was too angular, the hair loose and too dark. This was not Dahlia, and if she was right about the tall brown blurs, they were in a forest, not the temple. She couldn't remember how they got here, but that happened sometimes; if the training had been overly vigorous, a temporary loss of memory was to be expected. It would come back to her, but it would be wise to learn as much as possible about her present situation in the meantime. She blinked again, trying to focus her eyes, but it was still as though trying to see through a clouded lens.

“Mistress?” She muttered hoarsely, her throat raw and burning. She thought she might have heard a choked gasp in response, before soft fingertips covered her lips.

“Shh...don't try to talk yet.” The voice was familiar, but she was sure it didn't sound like any of the Mord-Sith Rahl had assigned to her training. An arm slipped under her shoulders. “Here, sit up a little and have some water.”

She felt the arm under her lift until she was leaning against the woman's chest. A waterskin was brought to her lips and, after a hesitant first taste to assure herself it wasn't poisoned, she drank greedily. The cool water soothed her chapped lips and sore throat; it felt divine, until it hit her stomach.

“Slow down, Cara, you're going to-” The warning came too late as Cara gagged, pushing the waterskin away and rolling to the side. Her muscles screamed in protest as she held herself up on all fours, vomiting little more than the water she'd just consumed.

As she heaved, her hair was pulled away from her face, another hand rubbing small circles into her back. She stiffened. Mord-Sith were well-versed in mind games, but there was a hesitation in this tender affection that was too honest to be faked. This was no Mord-Sith.

The realization shattered a wall somewhere in Cara's mind, releasing a cascade of memories that she quickly tried to organize in her mind. Kahlan. The pieces fell into place as she identified her caregiver; where she was, how she'd gotten there, what had happened. What she'd done.

Cara retched again, tears stinging her eyes as the full scope of her betrayal hit her. Not only had she turned on her friends – her friends, that she had only recently come to acknowledge as such – and given the Stone of Tears to Darken Rahl, she had effectively destroyed any chance Richard would be able to find it in time. Cara had singlehandedly ensured the Keeper's victory over the world of the living. Self-loathing seeped into her skin, familiar as an old friend.

Kahlan noted the subtle change that came over Cara, felt the muscles under her hand tighten, saw the hands clench tightly in the dirt. She felt, more than saw, the moment Cara's arms buckled under the strain of holding her up, and quickly looped her arms around the woman's waist, holding her up so she wouldn't fall.

Cara froze in Kahlan's arms, caught off-guard by the awkward, impromptu sideways embrace. Shifting back into a kneeling position, she was startled by the sudden appearance of Kahlan's hand, offering a leftover scrap of clean bandage. Taking it warily, she drew it across her mouth, wiping the sweat and bile from her lips. She ignored the dampness under her eyes, unwilling to acknowledge the evidence of her brief surrender to feeling. She would regain control of herself, she had to – without control, she was nothing.

Without control, she was just another tool to be used – as Darken Rahl had taken full advantage of. She didn't know why she could no longer feel the dark magic poisoning her blood, but she swore to herself, she would die before she let it take control again.

That thought gave her pause. By all rights, she should be dead right now. She had just witnessed Dahlia's death by confession – she pushed aside the pang of grief at the thought – and if anything, Cara was more Mord-Sith than Dahlia had been. She didn't understand how she could have survived a Confessor's touch – with her free will intact, at that – when she had seen countless Mord-Sith fall dead within seconds.

“Cara?” Her name was spoken with such depth of emotion – uncertainty, guilt, guarded hope – that Cara could not stop herself from meeting Kahlan's familiar searching gaze, if only to try to find the answers she was looking for.

Then their gazes connected, and Cara knew. It was almost painfully obvious, in retrospect. She couldn't remember when or how it had happened, but she had fallen irrevocably in love with Kahlan Amnell. Cara, the real Cara, who had been tucked into a tiny corner of her consciousness while the dark magic raged, would already have done anything Kahlan asked of her. She had, in fact, already subjected herself to numerous indignities, at times for nothing more than the warmth that would steal over her when Kahlan was pleased with her.

She had been aware of this before, but her self-appointed role as the party's voice of reason had allowed her to avoid her burgeoning feelings. The night she spent with Dahlia, that had all changed. She had tried to pretend that it was just like it had been before, when they were both Mord-Sith in the good graces of their Lord Rahl, but it couldn't be the same. With every touch, every kiss, every stroke, she'd found herself longing for Kahlan's hands, lips, fingers. Even while playing Dahlia's familiar body like a finely-tuned instrument, memory guiding every touch perfectly, she'd been thinking of Kahlan, wishing that the body beneath her belonged to the Confessor.

Cara was torn from her introspection by Kahlan's soft intake of breath. A sick feeling twisted her gut as she realized that somehow, the Confessor was able to read her. She tore her eyes away, her hand straying to her hip in search of her agiels. When she didn't find them, she looked frantically around for saddlebags, packs, anywhere they might have been stowed. Having no luck, she clamped her eyes shut, her heart pounding in her chest as her mind struggled to find some semblance of the calm stillness she was accustomed to.

Kahlan watched the panic rise in Cara, too stunned at first to react. Over the course of her travels with the Mord-Sith, she'd come to recognize little things that would give her a hint as to what she was thinking, but looking into her eyes, she had always been met with a cold wall of practiced indifference. What she had just seen in Cara, she was completely unprepared for. She could not read Cara's thoughts, but the storm of emotions raging through the woman was as accessible to her now as an open book.

When she recovered from the shock, Kahlan reached out and placed a tentative hand on Cara's arm. Green eyes shot up to meet hers, bloodshot and wary, and Kahlan was shocked to see that they were filling with moisture. Cara's full lips, pulled into a tight line, trembled with the weight of the emotion she was suppressing. Kahlan's hand slid up to her shoulder, and the caress was all it took. Her face twisted as she broke, tears spilling over her lashes and down her cheeks.

It took Kahlan a moment to realize what was happening; she'd seen Cara vulnerable before, but crying? Then all that mattered was that Cara was hurting, and she pulled the blonde into her arms, guiding her head to rest on her shoulder. That Cara did not resist broke Kahlan's heart just a little bit more, tears she thought were spent springing to her eyes anew.

She didn't know how long they sat that way, crying softly together. It could have been hours or mere moments before the crunch of leaves alerted her to Zedd and Richard's approach. She locked eyes with Zedd, communicating all of the anguish and uncertainty that still plagued her.

“Cara!” Richard wasted no time in rushing to them. Kahlan winced as she felt the blonde stiffen in her arms, then pull away, forcing her sore limbs into a stiff kneeling position. Blonde hair hung around her bowed head, allowing her a small amount of privacy to compose herself. Her cheeks were hot with shame at indulging in such weakness. Cara could count on one hand the number of times she'd cried in her life, since becoming Mord-Sith; and now, to weep like a child when it was her that caused such pain, was truly unforgivable.

She waited for Richard to speak, silently awaiting discipline. She was not a fool; she knew the Seeker was too softhearted to punish her physically, but she didn't understand how even Richard could forgive everything she'd done. She anticipated harsh words, disappointment, rejection.

She did not anticipate his hand reaching slowly toward her, fingers tucking under her chin to draw her gaze to his, nor did she expect his eyes to show such compassion. She flinched, but held steady, beating back his pity with practiced indifference.

“Rahl is going to the People's Palace.” Kahlan's heart ached at the forced monotone of Cara's voice. “We were to meet him at the temple outside of West Granthia when we completed our objective.” When you were dead. The unspoken implication was not lost on any of them.

“We should get moving.” Kahlan said reluctantly, brushing tears from her cheeks as she composed herself. Standing, she reached down to rest a hand on Cara's shoulder. “Are you well enough to travel?”

Incredulous, Cara shook the hand from her shoulder. Kahlan tried to ignore the slight, willing herself to allow the blonde the space she needed to recover. Cara stared at Kahlan dubiously.

“I'm fine. I won't jeopardize your quest any further.”

Cara stood, started to move away, but Kahlan reached out and grabbed her hand, stubbornly refusing to let her leave. She tried to make eye contact, but Cara's eyes stayed trained somewhere behind her.

“Cara, you're coming with us.” The blonde's eyes shot to Richard's, trying to read his intentions. He said the words in such a matter-of-fact way, as though it was the obvious conclusion. Mistaking this for distrust, Cara lowered her head, slumping her shoulders in resignation.

“Of course.” Of course he would not trust her, let her go on her way. She had not exactly done much to encourage such faith. He probably thought she would betray him again the first chance she got.

Though he could not see her face, Richard was not the Seeker of Truth for nothing. Seeing how Cara was interpreting his words, he rushed to correct her assumption, his voice turning compassionate.

“Cara, what happened to you was -” He did not get a chance to finish, as Cara's head snapped back up, her eyes piercing his.

“I do not need your pity, Seeker.” Cara pulled her hand from Kahlan's as she straightened, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “I've proven to be a liability to you. If you don't trust me, I understand completely. I've given you every reason. But I won't stay around to be your pet charity project.” She quirked an eyebrow. “Unless you're going to order me, Lord Rahl.”

Kahlan noted the shift in tone, the sharp edges of Cara's voice getting under her skin even as she rejoiced at this display of obvious free will. She could see what Cara was doing, even without the occasional glimpses she was getting into the blonde's eyes. Hostility came naturally to Mord-Sith, as naturally as the need for punishment. Cara was trying to goad Richard into reacting, her words and tone designed explicitly to push the right buttons to make him lash out.

Frustrated, Richard ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out a way to get through to her. They didn't have time to argue; Rahl expected the Mord-Sith back promptly, and he would assume them lost if they didn't come up with a plan soon. He looked to Zedd, pleading for some wise solution, but was met with an apologetic shrug. His features hardened as he played the last card he had. Keeping Cara with them was more important than being right at the moment.

“Fine. As Lord Rahl, I command you to come with us until I say you can go.”

“Why?” The question was meant to be a challenge, but Kahlan could hear the honest bewilderment. Cara understood anger, and punishment, and rejection; she did not understand why Richard would still want her to travel with them.

“You may be our best chance of getting the Stone back.” Kahlan smiled at Richard's quick thinking. This, Cara understood. She was useful to them, a tool; she could justify that in her mind. “And Kahlan needs as much protection as possible. There's still the prophecy to think about.”

Cara was silent for a moment, arms crossed, lips pursed. Kahlan could see the gears turning in her head, trying to determine if there was any way out of this, a way to regain the upper hand. After a few beats, she surrendered.

“If I'm going to protect anyone, I'll need my agiels.” Cara accepted that he wasn't going to let her leave, but she couldn't resist testing his boundaries. This was a dare, to see how far his trust extended.

Richard met her eyes directly, his own force of will standing up to hers. He called her bluff, nodding to Zedd, who cautiously handed her a pack. Recovering quickly from the shock, Cara reached in and pulled out her agiels, closing her eyes as the pain seeped in. She did not have the strength to fight him any longer, and the return of familiar pain centered her, made her feel more like herself again. She slung the pack over her shoulders, then turned. With an agiel in each hand, she started walking in the direction of the battlefield, refusing to meet anyone's gaze.

“Let's go.”

Chapter Text

Richard paced back and forth, his agitation clear. They had stopped in a clearing a league from the temple, making camp to feed Zedd's bottomless stomach and to devise a plan.

“I don't like it. What sense does it make to put Kahlan at risk when the fate of the world might hinge on her staying alive?”

Kahlan sighed, drawing a hand over her the bridge of her nose as she repeated her argument. “You're supposed to be dead, Richard. And I won't be in any real danger.” Looking across the campsite to Cara, leaning stiffly against a tree, she had to fight the inappropriate smile that threatened her lips; what she could not tell Richard, not now with so little time to explain, was that she would never be in any danger with Cara there to protect her. Even with things so shaky and uncertain, with the blonde so stubbornly closed off from her, Kahlan knew even without looking in her eyes that Cara would do absolutely anything in her power to keep her safe.

“She's right. Rahl doesn't want the Keeper to win anymore than you do, not without ensuring his own immortality first. He'd probably just keep her as a slave.” The words left Cara's lips casually, disguising her rage at the idea with a practiced ease that the brunette saw through effortlessly. Kahlan was mesmerized by the expressiveness of Cara's eyes, once so inaccessible to her. Cara felt the weight of her gaze and shifted uncomfortably, doing her best to avoid looking at the Confessor.

“And that's not real danger?” Richard stopped his pacing, moving closer to his grandfather, who was gnawing on a chunk of jerky. “Zedd, there's got to be something you can do. You said that the Spell of Taking works better if you can see the object, but it could still work, right?”

Zedd nearly choked on the meat in his mouth. “With that many Mord-Sith surrounding him? Bags, Richard, I might as well just walk in and hand them my magic. All it would take is one Mord-Sith sensing so much as a bit of my power reaching toward their Lord Rahl and I would be lost, and they would be alerted to our presence. We can't risk it.”

Kahlan moved to Richard, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Face it, Richard. This is our best option, and it stands a very real chance of success.” She willed herself to be calm, despite the urgent desire for retribution burning in her gut. Richard turned to her, placing his hands on her shoulders and stroking them gently.

“I just don't want anything to happen to the woman I love.” He looked at her so earnestly that she had to force herself not to cringe, knowing the pain she was eventually going to cause him. Now was not the time, nor the place, to have that conversation. She forced a smile onto her lips.

“I'll be alright, Richard.”

Richard sighed, wondering when exactly he lost control of his own quest. “I know you will.” He smiled fondly at her, his hands cradling her face. He glanced pointedly at Cara, raising his voice ever so slightly. “You're in good hands.” Turning back to Kahlan, he lowered his voice to an intimate murmur. “Just be careful.”

She strained to keep smiling as he leaned in to kiss her, forced herself to respond for a few moments before Zedd cleared his throat, finished with his meal – for now – and ready to do his part. Grateful, Kahlan pushed at Richard's shoulders gently to break the embrace.

Kahlan felt Zedd eyeing her curiously, trying to make sense of her reactions. He was close to figuring her out, and she couldn't let that happen before she had the chance to talk to Cara, alone. Unfortunately, that would have to wait until they had the Stone back, at the very least.

“I'm ready.” She said, turning to face the wizard. He held his hands over her throat, muttered a few magical words, and a metal collar materialized around her neck, with a long chain hanging down her front. To the naked eye, Kahlan appeared to be wearing a Rada'Han; Rahl and his Mord-Sith would, with any luck, believe her to be powerless and vulnerable. Kahlan's hands itched with the desire to hurt anyone who stood between her and Darken Rahl.

It must have shown in her eyes, because Zedd looked at her sternly. “Remember, you can't kill him.”

“I know.” Disappointment colored her voice as she struggled to control her rage. She locked eyes with Cara, directing her words toward her. “Just make sure I don't forget.”

The two Mord-Sith at the gate stared, their stoic expressions hiding their surprise at the sight before them. Mistress Cara approached confidently, the Sword of Truth slung over her shoulder. Trailing behind her was a struggling Mother Confessor - bound, gagged, and collared. Stunned, they did not stop her from pushing open the gate with her free hand and walking through as though she owned the place. This was a very interesting development indeed.

Cara dragged Kahlan swiftly through the temple, her feet automatically taking the shortest route to Lord Rahl's private chambers. The Mord-Sith at the door moved to stop her from opening the door, but backed down almost immediately at Cara's piercing glare, stepping aside before she could be knocked out of the way.

Pushing open the door, Cara was unsurprised to find Darken Rahl seated in his ornate armchair, Garen on her knees in front of him. She rolled her eyes, yanking on the chain to throw Kahlan unceremoniously at her feet. Kahlan winced as her knees crashed into the hard stone floor, her hands bound behind her back, unable to break the fall. Her eyes immediately zeroed in on Rahl's face, glaring at him with contempt as he motioned for Garen to readjust his clothing.

“Why Mistress Cara, I was beginning to wonder if I would ever see you again.” Irritation tinged his voice, no doubt at the interruption more than Cara's presence. “Alive, at least. Your sisters?”

“They're dead, my lord.” Cara moved forward, shrugging the sword from her shoulder and holding it up for him to see. “But so is the Seeker. It was a close battle, but unfortunately for some-” Her voice lowered to a purr as she leaned close to Kahlan's ear, tugging on the chain for good measure. “-not close enough.”

Rahl stood, stroking his lips as he moved forward to take the sword from her grasp. “I must say I'm impressed, Cara. Not only did you manage to get me the Stone of Tears, you've procured both the Sword of Truth and the Mother Confessor as well.”

Kahlan could feel his eyes run down the length of her kneeling form, and suppressed a shudder. She refused to show weakness before this man. Rahl eyed her neck suspiciously, an eyebrow raised.

“Your resourcefulness knows no bounds. Where did you come across a Rada'Han?”

Cara's heart pounded in her chest. The show was truly on now, and she had the starring role. She had the answer ready for him, however, and her trademark smirk showed no sign of her nerves. She ran a gloved finger over the metal band as she spoke, her other hand still holding the chain. Kahlan's heart raced at the almost-contact, and at being so close to Rahl, unable to make a move until Cara gave the signal. Anger roiled in her belly, and she bit down on the gag in her mouth to keep her composure as Cara continued the ruse.

“It turns out that Dahlia had reason to be confident. She revealed it to me only just before the battle.” The lie fell easily from her lips, her voice even and sure. “I believe she wanted to surprise you, my lord.”

Rahl's lips twisted into a careful smile as he handed the sword off to Garen, who dutifully turned and laid it on his desk before turning back to carefully watch the conversation. Her scowl was not very well concealed, Cara noted with a smirk. The dark-haired Mord-Sith may be naive enough to think that a place at Darken Rahl's right hand was the pinnacle of success, but even she could see when her position was threatened.

Kahlan tensed as he drew closer, willed herself not to move as he ran a hand lightly over her tousled hair. She made a mental note of the touch, adding it to the long list of offenses she would make him pay for.

“How unfortunate that Dahlia could not be with us to celebrate.” He lamented, his tone absent of any hint of grief. “But it appears your sisters were not the only casualty of this battle.” His eyes fixed pointedly at Cara's hip. Two holsters hung there, as always, but only one contained an agiel. Kahlan felt the burn of the borrowed weapon intensify where it was strapped to her thigh. Her pulse raced, and she fumbled to find the end of rope that would release the knot at her wrists. If their ploy was uncovered, she would be prepared for a fight.

Cara showed no sign that she noticed, but Kahlan knew the Mord-Sith well enough to know that no movement she made right now would escape her attention. The blonde's voice was smooth as she replied.

“The Sword of Truth is a formidable weapon, my lord.” Her free hand drifted to her hip, pressing slightly against the agiel, allowing the pain to keep her focused. Her voice turned to velvet as she continued, eyes smoldering with a hint of sadistic pleasure as she glanced back at the Confessor. “But I made good use of this one. He cried for his beloved as I forced the life from his body.”

“I'll bet he did.” Rahl smiled at the image, dragging the back of his hand down Kahlan's cheek. She fought to control her breathing, gritting her teeth as best she could against the angry tears welling in her eyes. She had been so eager to participate in this mission; she hadn't realized how hard it would be to remain passive when every nerve ending in her body was crying out to hurt this man. Fortunately, he seemed to attribute her distress to the loss of her love; the suspicious gaze morphed into a lecherous smile as he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him, to see the depraved intentions in his eyes while he directed his words to Cara. “I suppose you want a reward.”

Kahlan's stomach lurched as the implication became clear. She thought she might bite clean through the cloth strip in her mouth with the effort to restrain herself from releasing her hands and throttling the man where he stood. Behind him, Garen shifted restlessly from one foot to the other, her agitation clearly growing. The movement was enough to catch Kahlan's attention, and remind her why she needed to wait. If possible, they needed to get Rahl alone; two against one were better odds, and it would be easier to take him down without killing him if his guard dog was otherwise occupied. Running through the logic in her head gave Kahlan the focus she needed to remain calm, or at least appear so.

“I won't pretend the idea didn't cross my mind, my lord.” Cara replied, dragging gloved fingertips through Kahlan's hair, gripping it roughly. “But I thought you might want to share in the experience.”

Kahlan's cheeks burned at the suggestion as Rahl's grin widened eagerly. He kept his gaze trained on her as he addressed the dark-haired Mord-Sith.

“Garen, guard the entrance to my chambers. If the Mother Confessor leaves here without an escort, kill her at once.”

“Yes, my lord.” Garen threw a hateful glare at Cara before exiting the room. As the door closed behind her, Rahl's lips curled into a sneer as he stroked down the side of Kahlan's face Without warning, he tore the gag from her mouth, jerking her head forward roughly as the fabric ripped.

She kept her head down as she braced herself to play her part. When Cara yanked her head back up, she trained her gaze on the other woman. Her voice was thick with tears, her words frantic.

“Cara, please, don't do this. This isn't you. I know that somewhere deep down-”

She was cut off as Cara backhanded her solidly, the shock reverberating down her spine. Her cheek throbbed, and she tasted the tang of copper as she prodded her lip with her tongue. Tears stung at her eyes.

“I am the Lord Rahl's to command.” Cara smirked coldly, her eyes running over Kahlan's prone form. “As are you, now, Mother Confessor.”

Kahlan looked back up, seeing the silent apology in Cara's eyes. She tried to convey what reassurance she could without betraying their plan.

“A touching display of loyalty, Cara.” The violence only served to stoke Rahl's arousal. He raised a hand to his mouth, dampening two fingers with his tongue before sliding them over his lips. His eyes locked onto the Mord-Sith as he took a step away from the Confessor. “I'll grant you the pleasure of the first kiss.”

Dread pooled in Cara's stomach. She knew why he was offering her this; she remembers all too well how she cried out for Kahlan between screams as she was broken; how guilt had flooded her as Kahlan's face filled her mind. She masked her nerves with a lecherous grin as she slid her fingers from dark hair and roughly gripped Kahlan's chin.

“I'm honored, my lord.”

Kahlan found that she didn't have to fake her fear and disgust at what was about to happen; the few times she had indulged in fantasies about Cara's lips, she never dreamed her first taste would be in a situation like this. Her heart ached as she glared defiantly back at the other woman, lips pressed tightly together, her eyes shining with tears and forgiveness.

Cara summoned all of her strength of will and lunged forward, taking Kahlan's mouth forcefully with her own. Kahlan stiffened, struggling not to respond as Cara's tongue forced itself into her mouth. She focused on the pain radiating from the agiel at her thigh, tried to imagine that this was Rahl kissing her. She could almost feel the sting of his beard scratching her chin. With a whimper, she bit down sharply on Cara's bottom lip, drawing blood. Cara pulled away, grinning as she licked the crimson fluid from her lips.

Rahl looked on, smirking. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say the Mother Confessor enjoyed that.”

Kahlan's cheeks flushed with what she hoped looked like shame; she was all too aware of the dampness between her legs, the dark urge to lick her lips and taste Cara's blood mingling with her own. Instead, she spat at Rahl's feet.

“You'll pay for what you've done to her.” Her voice shook with rage as she felt her power rise up in her, the Con Dar threatening to overtake her senses. Rahl had no idea how precious a thing he had just taken from her. Cara yanked on the chain connected to the Rada'Han, pulling Kahlan back from the edge.

“No one told you to speak.” It was the harsh voice of a mistress, but Kahlan took the hint. She tried to center herself, focusing on the simple knot at her wrists. Her eyes locked with Cara's as Rahl stepped closer. At the other woman's nearly imperceptible nod, she released her hands.

In one smooth movement, she reached through the slit in her skirt to grab the agiel and jam it roughly into his crotch. In the same instant, Cara drew her own agiel and dug it into Rahl's throat, slapping her gloved hand over his mouth to suppress his gurgling cries even as the agiel rendered his vocal chords useless.

In almost no time at all, the pain overcame the tyrant and he passed out. Cara supported his limp weight as she lowered him to the ground. She covered Kahlan's hand with her own, pulling it away from Rahl. The agiel dropped from Kahlan's grasp.

“Too much and he'll die.” She said pointedly, reaching into his vest and pulling out the Stone of Tears. She tucked it into her belt. “Besides, we have what we came for.”

Cara kept her gaze on the door for a few moments, trying to determine if Garen had heard anything. Satisfied that she had not, she reached down for the discarded agiel, tucking it and its mate into the holsters at her side. She pulled a thin chain from around her neck, and turned back to Kahlan.

Kahlan struggled to catch her breath. Her eyes didn't leave the unconscious man. Her arm ached from the death grip she'd had on the agiel, and her head swam with visions of retribution. She was pulled from her thoughts as Cara knelt in front of her. As the key slid into the lock of the collar, both key and collar vanished. Kahlan's hands went to her neck, rubbing the newly freed skin.

As Kahlan's gaze finally left Rahl's prone body and drifted toward Cara's own eyes, Cara pushed herself back to her feet. She didn't understand why Kahlan was able to read her so easily now, but it was magic; she was not supposed to understand it, only treat it with the wary respect ingrained in her over a lifetime of training. For now, there was no time to look for answers. She reached down, offering a hand to the Confessor even as she avoided her searching eyes.

Kahlan took the offered hand, her knees protesting as she stood. With her free hand, she guided Cara's face forward. Jade eyes flickered reluctantly to her own, allowing Kahlan to catch a glimpse of shame, guilt, and something else more elusive before Cara fixed her gaze on Darken Rahl.

“We should make sure he can't escape.” She pulled her hand from Kahlan's grip, reaching down to grab the man under his arms. “Grab his legs.”

Biting back her frustration, Kahlan did as she was told, helping to drag him up and onto the bed. Cara proceeded to lock his wrists in the shackles chained to each bedpost. Horror churned in Kahlan's stomach as she realized their purpose. Cara's words rang in her ears.

“It was considered an honor to be chosen by Lord Rahl.”

Before her was evidence of what it meant to be chosen. She stood frozen, glaring hatefully at Rahl as Cara moved past her to secure his ankles.

“Confessor.” Cara's voice broke through the storm of thoughts in her mind, but not before one solidified, making its way to her lips.

“Your son.” Kahlan turned, seeking out the other woman's face. If at all possible, Cara stiffened even further at the words.

“Is dead.” She struggled to keep her voice cold and even. “He did not live to see a single sunrise.”

Kahlan's chest constricted with pain as she reached for a leather-clad arm. “Cara, I'm so sorry-”

“Don't.” Cara caught Kahlan's wrist in mid-air, willing herself to meet the other woman's gaze, her eyes burning into the Confessor's. “We do not have time for sympathy. We need to get out of here.”

Kahlan nodded, swallowing her tears. Cara moved to the desk, grabbing the Sword of Truth and shoving it into Kahlan's hands before making her way back to the door.

Kahlan slung the sword over her shoulders, composing her face into the emotionless mask that was her birthright. She held her breath as Cara reached for the door handle.

Chapter Text

Garen's head snapped to the side, hand jumping to her hip as the door beside her opened a crack. The other two guards stood at the ready, hands on their own agiels. Garen's lips curled distastefully as she met the gaze of her master's newest favored pet. At least the blonde did not look happy; a cruel smile played at Garen's mouth as she noted the blood still oozing from Cara's lip.

“Is the Mother Confessor too much for you, sister?” She spat, savoring the irritation blossoming on Cara's features.

Cara rolled her eyes, grinding her teeth in apparent frustration. “Lord Rahl has requested your...participation.”

Garen's smirk grew, foolish pride clear on her features. With a quick glance to the other two sisters standing guard, she stepped through the door Cara held open for her.

As soon as the door closed behind her, a hand slapped around her throat and she found herself staring into the fierce eyes of the Mother Confessor. The Mord-Sith had barely a moment to process what happened before those eyes swirled black, power surging painfully into her.

Garen fell to her knees in pain and submission. “Command me, Mistress.”

Kahlan pulled her hand away from the Mord-Sith, her eyes boring into Garen like icicles.

“How many Mord-Sith are in this temple?”

“Two dozen, Mistress.” Garen's voice trembled as tears streamed down her face. “Let me kill them for you.”

Kahlan shook her head, her voice cold. “You won't live long enough to do that.”

A wave of pain wracked the Mord-Sith, either from Kahlan's power or being unable to defend her mistress. Whichever it was, it tore from her a tortured cry. Cara moved swiftly to cut off the noise, jabbing her agiel into Garen's throat. Her eyes locked with Kahlan's before flicking to the door.

Kahlan followed Cara's gaze, taking the hint. She looked back at the shaking woman. “That's all we needed to know.” She nodded to Cara, who took the agiel away from Garen's throat. “You will stay here, in silence. You will not make a sound as you die.”

Garen nodded through her tears, happy to be given a way to please the Confessor. She gasped breathlessly as the pain tore through her, her mouth open in a silent scream.

Without a second glance, Kahlan drew the sword and nodded to Cara. Adrenaline flooded her body as Cara pulled open the door and the battle began.

The two women swept through the temple like a whirlwind of death. They fell easily back into fighting side by side, systematically striking down one Mord-Sith after another. When an agiel came too close to Cara's heart, its owner was quickly run through with the Sword of Truth. When Kahlan found herself caught between two enemies, Cara felled them both with a twist of an agiel to each neck. Kahlan had missed this; the deadly beauty of fighting by Cara's side. They knew instinctively where the other was at all times, moving seamlessly back and forth through the rooms and halls of the temple.

By the time the last two Mord-Sith fell, one to Cara's agiels and the other to the Sword of Truth, both women were panting from both the exhilaration of battle and the heat radiating between them. Their gazes met as the bodies fell to the ground, and a combination of adrenaline and desire coursed through their veins.

The few feet of space between them seemed to disappear as their eyes stayed locked onto one another. Kahlan's heart pounded in her throat, arousal pooling low in her belly. The blonde watched as blue eyes grew dark with hunger, and the need in Cara's blood was eclipsed only by the ache in her chest. She tore herself away, returning her agiels to her side and running a gloved hand through her tangled hair.

“We should find horses.” Her voice was guarded as she struggled to regain her composure. She refused to allow herself the indulgence of contemplating the look in Kahlan's eyes – a look that, were it any other person, she would not need to question.

Kahlan caught her breath, trying to slow the racing of her heart as she wiped the sword on the leather of the fallen Mord-Sith. Returning it to its scabbard, she quickly followed after as Cara headed for the stables.

They worked efficiently, and before long they had four horses saddled and ready to ride. As they led them out of the stable, Cara shoved the reins to all but one of them into Kahlan's hands. She ignored Kahlan's puzzled look, and instead reached into her belt, producing the Stone of Tears and offering it to the other woman as well.

“You can take this back to Richard. With the horses, you should be able to reach the Pillars of Creation well before the solstice.”

For a moment, Kahlan just stared at the offering, mesmerized by the liquid shine of the Stone cradled in dark red fingers. Then the meaning of Cara's words sunk in. She reached out, but instead of taking the Stone, she covered Cara's hand with both of her own, holding tightly.

“Cara, you don't have to leave.”

“I've proven to be a liability. If I cannot be trusted, I am no longer useful.” She pushed the stone into Kahlan's hands, pulling her hand away to rest on her agiels.

“I know that I speak for Richard and Zedd too when I say that you're more than just a weapon to us, a tool to be used. You're family.” Gripping the Stone in one hand, Kahlan moved to cup Cara's cheek with the other, pulling their gazes together. “And we trust you. I trust you.”

“You shouldn't.” Cara closed her eyes, the only defense she had. “I don't.”

When Cara's eyes opened again, Kahlan gasped at what she saw. There were so many conflicting emotions, pushing and pulling at Cara's mind, but the strongest was fear. Cara was afraid. Ashamed, Cara jerked away from Kahlan's touch, averting her gaze.

“Is that true?” Kahlan asked, almost fearing the answer. She couldn't bring herself to look at Cara as she spoke, for fear that the answer would be one she dreaded. “Or is it me you don't trust?”

When she received no reply, Kahlan continued. “I know you may never forgive me. I don't know if I can forgive myself.” With her own eyes fixed on the ground, she didn't see when Cara looked back at her. “All I can tell you is that I couldn't see any other choice. I had to confess you, to try to find out where Rahl was taking the Stone.”

For a long moment, Cara was speechless. The idea of Kahlan having anything to apologize for was preposterous. “If I'd been stronger, Rahl would never have gotten the Stone in the first place. You're not the one who failed, Confessor, I am.” She turned her back to Kahlan, shoulders tight with tension. “You should have left me to die.”

Kahlan stopped fighting the tears, and they slid silently down her cheeks as her voice trembled. “Cara, what you did hurt. It was a betrayal. But you didn't have a choice.” She pulled her arms over her chest, as though she could somehow contain the pain and guilt. “What I did to you? It was with my own free will that I confessed you. I could have destroyed you!”

Cara turned, deliberately meeting Kahlan's eyes. “No, you couldn't have. And that's all the more reason for me to go.”

“What are you talking about?” Kahlan asked, stepping closer to examine Cara's eyes. Her tears slowed to a stop as she started to understand. “What do you mean, I couldn't have?”

Cara's eyebrows pulled together, her expression becoming strained. “I would already do anything you asked of me, Kahlan. Don't ask me to do this.” She was disgusted when she heard the pleading tone of her own voice. As though she needed evidence that love made a person weak.

Kahlan's face softened as her eyes verified the truth of what Cara said. She nearly gasped as the weight of the words. It was not so long ago that she heard much the same words falling from Richard's lips; but when Richard said them, she had felt the awkward heaviness of regret. The difference couldn't be more clear; now, hearing Cara's lips form the words, her heart beat faster, and a thrill went through her, warming her to the core.

She could see panic growing in Cara; the worry that she had said too much. Knowing the other woman would run if pushed too far, Kahlan opted for a different tactic. Her gaze fixed on Cara's mouth as her fingertips reached out to lightly caress her bottom lip, ghosting over the wound that had finally closed. Cara stiffened at the touch, but something in the contact kept her from moving away.

“I'm sorry for this.” Though her words expressed only regret, something in Kahlan's eyes gave Cara the impression that she was apologizing for more than the wound.

Cara shrugged uneasily, her eyes drifting to Kahlan's own lips, at the thin red line where her hand had caused the soft skin to collide with Kahlan's teeth. “I guess we're even.”

Kahlan's mouth pulled into a shy hint of a smile as her fingers came to rest along Cara's cheekbone, causing the blonde's heart to pound harder in her chest. A glance into clear blue eyes caused the pounding to rise into her throat; they sparkled with mischief, and with something more, something darker. Cara's eyes widened as she recognized it as a look she had never dared hope to see the Confessor direct at her.

Encouraged by Cara's reaction, and struggling to contain her own desire, Kahlan stepped in toward the other woman, leaving minimal space between their two bodies. When Cara did not immediately back up, Kahlan slipped her hand around to tangle in blonde hair, cupping the back of Cara's head and holding her in place.

She hovered there for a moment, their faces scant inches apart, giving Cara the opportunity to stop her if this became too much. But Cara only panted softly, her breath puffing over Kahlan's lips. She could not stop this right now if her life depended on it.

Kahlan's lips brushed over Cara's in the barest hint of a kiss before she pulled back ever so slightly. When Cara didn't take the opportunity to pull away, Kahlan kissed her again, pressing gently against her mouth, lingering as she savored the feel of Cara's lips under her own.

At the first touch of Kahlan's lips, Cara was frozen in shock. This was so close to the fantasies built up for herself as armor against the agiels and the Sisters' dark magic that for a moment she was convinced she was back in the training room, hanging in chains. Then, like now, she had been helpless to resist the temptation that Kahlan represented. Against her better judgment, Cara found herself hesitantly returning the gentle caress.

A spark shot down Kahlan's spine when she felt Cara begin to respond. Still holding the Stone, her free hand snaked around Cara's waist to pull leather-clad hips firmly against her. The kiss grew more fervent the longer it lasted. Losing herself in the sensation, she pulled Cara's bottom lip into her mouth, sucking a little harder than she intended. Hearing Cara's sharp gasp, Kahlan pulled back as if burned.

Cara's eyes shot open as she felt the sting of pressure on her wounded lip. Instead of torch-lit red leather and cruel smiles, she was met with blue eyes darkened with desire and tinged with guilt; the realization hit her like a physical blow to the chest. This wasn't some fantasy conjured to protect her mind; though she could barely comprehend it, this was happening.

With a groan, Cara threaded her fingers in the other woman's hair, pulling her firmly back into the kiss. If this was a mistake, she would make sure it was worth it.

Kahlan moaned as Cara's mouth claimed hers once more. This was a stark contrast to the power play they had performed for Rahl; Cara was fierce, but not violent. She eagerly took all that Kahlan offered, and asked for nothing more.

Kahlan's tongue slipped out to taste lips that parted eagerly for her, and Cara met it with her own. This ardent exploration went on for what seemed like hours until Kahlan tore herself away, in desperate need of air. Panting, she rested her forehead against Cara's, unable to stop a smile from pulling at her swollen lips.

“I can't stop you if you want to go.” Her breath brushed over the other woman's moist lips, sending an involuntary shiver down Cara's spine. “But just know that it's the last thing I want you to do.”

Cara looked down, overwhelmed by everything that had just happened, and by the heat of Kahlan's hands on her neck and waist. She opened her mouth to speak, but for once, her mind failed to provide an appropriate sarcastic rebuke. Seeing Cara's difficulty, Kahlan filled the silence once more.

“I love you, Cara.” The raw intensity in Kahlan's voice shook Cara to her core. She pulled away, disbelief shining in her eyes as they sought out Kahlan's own. There was no mistaking the sincerity of her words, and all of Cara's protests shattered on the tip of her tongue.

At the same time, Cara was more terrified than ever. She didn't know the first thing about romance, about love; tenderness and gentle affection were foreign concepts to her that she only knew because somehow, inexplicably, she found herself wanting them with Kahlan.

Releasing her grip on the Confessor's thick hair, she returned her hand to her side, gripping an agiel to quell the panic rising in her throat. For some reason, it didn't calm her as much as Kahlan's fingers, stroking softly through her hair. She focused on keeping her voice calm and even.

“I suppose with Richard trying to save the world, you need all the help you can get.”

Kahlan laughed, more out of relief than amusement. After a moment of calm silence, drinking in the other woman's presence, she grabbed Cara's free hand, pushing the Stone into it.

“You're going to give this to Richard. And we're all going to save the world.” Sensing her anxiety, Kahlan reached up to stroke her cheek, offering reassurance with her naked gaze. “We'll worry about what comes later when we get there.”

For now, Cara thought that may be enough.

They returned to their campsite to find things more or less as they left them. Richard was pacing deep grooves into the earth, his hand occasionally drifting to his hip before he remembered that the Sword of Truth wasn't there. Zedd was sitting before a small fire, eating yet another meal and every so often reminding Richard that fretting wasn't going to make the wait any shorter.

At the sound of hoof beats, Richard stopped in his tracks, drawing the daggers Kahlan had left with him. Zedd put down the roasted meat he'd been devouring, freeing his hands for whatever magic may be necessary. When Kahlan and Cara's horses came into view, two others trailing behind, Richard's face lit up in a brilliant smile.

The women dismounted several feet away, tethering the horses to nearby trees. Richard was about to rush to them – to pull Kahlan into his arms and kiss her until he could believe she was safe again – when Kahlan ran her hand gently down Cara's arm, imparting some private assurance.

As hard as Richard had tried to ignore the signs, he couldn't help but see the truth – the burden of being the Seeker. There was something intimate about the way Kahlan's fingers tangled with Cara's, the tilt of her head as she murmured soft words. While he couldn't begin to understand it, he couldn't deny that Kahlan's affections had clearly found a new home.

While he pondered this new development, Cara slowly approached him, her shoulders weighted with guilt and anxiety. Silently, she held out the Stone. Her gaze was fixed on the ground, still unsure of what his reaction would be. With a broad smile, he took the Stone from her hand, then pulled her into a loose hug.

“I'm glad to have you back with us, Cara.”

Over Cara's shoulder, he could see Kahlan watching, her face colored with pride and – he could see it now – love. He caught her gaze, and saw the instant that she realized that he knew. Releasing Cara from the embrace – he was sure she would appreciate the time to recover from such overt affection – he moved to Kahlan, pulling her tightly to him.

Kahlan's heart ached as she held him. She loved this man, she always had; but she knew that it wasn't anything like what she felt for Cara. Meeting his gaze moments before had filled her with guilt. She pushed him away to arms' length, resting her hands on his shoulders.

“I know, Kahlan.” The words came out in a labored rush, before Kahlan could speak. His chest felt like it might explode from the agony, but he swallowed it down when he saw the anguish in her eyes. Tears spilled over her lashes, and he reached up to wipe them from her cheeks with rough fingers. “It's alright.”

Kahlan wanted to protest; she had been trained from a young age to take responsibility for her actions, to always be conscious of how her actions may inflict pain. Seeing Richard's heart break before her eyes, she wanted to cry out that it was not alright – regardless of the fact that it could be no other way.

His hand clamped around the Stone of Tears in a viselike grip, Richard stepped away, finding strength in the distance between them. His jaw set, he cleared his throat, raising his voice to address everyone.

“We'd better get back on the road. This rift isn't going to seal itself.”

He was about to head for the horses when Kahlan stopped him, shrugging the Sword of Truth from her shoulders. When he turned back to her, she held it out in front of her like a peace offering. “How can the Seeker save the world without the Sword of Truth?”

Smiling a bittersweet smile, Richard took the sword, offering Kahlan her daggers back in exchange. Rage welled up in him as his hand closed over the hilt, and just as quickly he fought it back, sealing it inside his heart until it would be of good use. His gaze flickered to Kahlan's, and in that brief glance, she saw utter, naked truth.

She saw the hurt, the betrayal, the restrained fury at fate taking from him the thing he loved the most. But beyond that, she saw all of the things that had made her love him in the first place; his kindness, his endless supply of compassion and empathy. It was thanks to Richard's persistent belief in the goodness of humanity that she'd been forced to give Cara a chance at all. She could see that above all else, he truly did just want her to be happy, despite the raw pain emanating from him as he turned to mount his horse.

It was not alright; but perhaps, someday, it would be.