fic: storm born - chapter thirty-four
Title: Storm Born
Author: Morgen
Summary: It was supposed to be their one chance to be together. Instead it plunged them straight into a nightmare.
Disclaimer: I don't own LOTS or profit from it in any way. Just worship it from afar.
Rating: PG-14
XIV. RIFT
Kahlan loosened her grip, uncurling her fingers from around Sister Isobel’s neck. She could feel the painful pressure of the dacra still digging into her belly. Confessing Sister Isobel would mean death to her child. There was no choice; Kahlan dropped her hand to her side.
Sister Isobel smiled. “That’s better. I always knew you were sensible, Kahlan, even as a little girl.”
“Don’t talk to me about Thandor.” Her blood curdled in her veins. “You’ve betrayed everything you once stood for. Everything you believed in.” She felt as if she’d taken a blow to the heart. Her father’s sudden switch to despising her and Dennee at their mother’s death had hurt less than this.
But Sister Isobel just shook her head. “No. I’ve watched countless children suffer. It wasn’t just you and your sister. Every child who came to Thandor was special, and every one had been abused by those who were supposed to love them best. I prayed to the Creator for years that she would do something to stop this, and she never did anything.”
“The Sisters of the Light!” Kahlan fought back frightened, frustrated tears. She couldn’t cry now. “Did you ever think that they might be her answer?”
Sister Isobel gave her a patient smile. “The Keeper has promised to see that no children suffer ever again. All will find peace in his way. He has shared with me visions of the endless calm he will soon bring about.” Kahlan thought of the dacra pressed against her belly, and all the countless women the banelings had killed just to get at and destroy their unborn babes. Sister Isobel reached out, taking Kahlan’s face in her hands. “You will get to help bring that peace, little Kahlan,” she said in the same gentle voice she’d used all along. As if nothing had changed. “I’m so happy it is you. You always were my favorite.”
“Enough reminiscing,” said the stout, elderly sister; her wrinkled face hard, eyes unforgiving. “Move, Confessor.”
The dacra dug into her belly a bit more as if to emphasize the woman’s point, and Kahlan could do nothing but comply. She took a small step forward. “Where are we going?”
“Just walk.” She felt a second dacra point press against the small of her back.
Kahlan took another step, caught between the blades. The pain of labor had faded with the sudden realization of Sister Isobel’s betrayal, but as she forced her body to begin moving again, it came back in tight waves, and she groaned. The dune they were forcing her up was steep, and as she staggered up the shifting sands, she reached inward, struggling to summon the wrath of the Con Dar. If Richard didn’t show up soon, it would be her only hope. But as angry and betrayed as she felt, the wild, primal anger of the blood rage remained elusive.
Sister Isobel kept a hand on her arm, gently helping her along. “Careful,” she cautioned when Kahlan stumbled, steadying her by the elbow.
Kahlan wrenched her arm away. “Don’t touch me,” she hissed though she was in no position to stop her.
Sister Isobel heaved a weary sigh. “Don’t think so unkindly of me, Kahlan. I have always had your best intentions at heart. The Confessors are of the past. You’re the last of a dying breed. Instead of fading with the rest of your sisters, you are to become the mother of a new world. Your name will be remembered by every last soul beyond the end of time. ”
“A dead world!” Kahlan spat. Her mind was racing. She had to slow these women down, and buy Richard more time to find her. If, she realized suddenly, he was even aware she needed him. If word had ever reached him. A chill ran down her spine. Rile’s escort was a Sister of the Dark. It was all too likely the young soldier was dead. She swallowed hard and slowed her steps as much as she dared, turning back to Sister Isobel. “You tricked me.”
“Actually, I did no such thing. I never once lied to you. When the Keeper learned of our shared history, he, in his infinite wisdom, realized that I was the one person who knew you well enough to keep you calm. To speak only the truth in a way that would not alarm you unnecessarily.”
“You mean you knew enough to deceive me.”
Sister Isobel seemed not to hear her. Instead, a glimmer of pride shone in her soft gray eyes. “The other sisters were on strict orders not to speak in your presence unless absolutely necessary.” She shot a scathing look at the stout old sister beside them. “Sister Dana always did have trouble following even the simplest of directions.”
Another wave of pain hit Kahlan abruptly and she groaned. She staggered forward, and would’ve collapsed then and there if not for the sisters grabbing her beneath the arms. They hauled her bodily up the rest of the dune while she struggled to make her legs stop shaking.
When they dropped her at the top, she finally understood why the horses had turned tail and fled. “No…” she stammered, staring out at the nightmare awaiting her. Before them stretched the rift. Acrid smoke hung like clouds, and broken, charred earth gaped open, a chasm leading down into the bowels of the Underworld.
Kahlan was so overcome by the sight, it took her a long time to realize the sisters had all stopped moving and were staring as well. She wondered if they planned to kill her here, at the very gateway to the Underworld. But though the dacras remained dangerously close to her unborn child, the sisters seemed almost distracted. The one before her, Sister Lena she’d been called, pursed her lips together.
“Are you sure it won’t hurt?” she asked as if resuming some prior conversation Kahlan had no knowledge of.
Sister Dana scoffed. “What’s a little pain for our master, if it does? We will have our reward.”
“What’s your reward?” gasped Kahlan, forcing out words when she longed only to groan in agony. Her labor seemed to be growing stronger. She felt feeble and lightheaded. The land and sky revolved slowly before her, changing places in an endless awful dance. But she had to keep them talking, stall them from whatever they had come here to do to her and her daughter. The prophecy floated through her mind like a warning. This was the moment the Sisters of the Dark had been working for. Surely at least one of them would want to stop and gloat.
Sister Dana smirked. She dragged the point of her dacra along Kahlan’s jawline, down her throat, letting it settle between her swollen breasts. “My reward is my youth, my beauty restored for all eternity.” She lifted an eyebrow, studying her intently. “You do not understand what a fine thing you have here in this body. No one who is young does.” She jerked her head at her companions, the younger Sisters of the Dark. “But I think some of you will begin to comprehend sooner than most.” No one said anything, but Sister Lena flinched almost imperceptibly.
Kahlan didn’t understand. “What?” she murmured.
“Move.” Sister Dana’s voice was little more than a growl. “We’re wasting valuable time.”
The press of the dacra forced her another step forward, the charred earth beginning to slant on a steep incline. Her muscles cried out at the change, and a sharp spasm flared across her lower back. With all the strength she had left, Kahlan forced her Confessor’s face into place and talked through pain that made her want to weep.
“Where are we going? What are you going to do to my child?”
It was Sister Isobel who answered her. “That’s not for us to tell you, Kahlan.” Amazingly her tone was still one meant to soothe. “It’ll be easier for you if you just walk.”
Kahlan stumbled forward a few steps more, the rift opening up before her like a giant mouth prepared to swallow her whole. If they got much closer, they would be in real danger of falling in. Green smoke drifted past, blown out of the chasm by a hot wind.
She looked back at Sister Isobel. The woman slowed a little every time she stopped to speak with her. “How did you,” she groaned, “how did you find me? When we parted, we went in different directions.”
Sister Isobel laughed. “Not for long. We’ve been trailing you closely since that day, carefully concealed with spells even your wizard doesn’t know.”
She thought of their hidden battle camp and wasn’t surprised. “Where did you learn this magic?”
“The scholars of Ashkari knew many things.”
Kahlan remembered the empty, snowbound city and the suicidal scholars. “They burned their books.”
“On the Underworld, yes. We sought information on how to better serve our master, and they destroyed all sorts of books you would no doubt think dark and foul. But they left many others, books on magic not necessarily malevolent, but still powerful. Books that I do believe would cause a stir even at the Wizard’s Keep. They helped us to track you, to hide our camp, and as we speak they are helping my sisters launch an attack on the rebel D’Harans led by Richard Rahl.”
Kahlan’s heart skipped a beat, and she tried not to think about what her friends might now be facing. She couldn’t lose herself to those fears. Richard was smart. He would survive their attack, but it meant help might not be coming any time soon, if at all.
Sister Isobel seemed to read her face. “Come now, Kahlan, don’t be grieved on his account. The prophecies make no secret of how he got you with child.”
Kahlan said nothing.
The feel of a dacra point jabbing at her spine in warning forced her to quicken her pace once more. They had descended even farther down the ragged black cliffs. There was no longer any trace of blue sky above. All was dense green fog. She began to cough and gripped her belly, keeping her feet only because of the sisters who dragged her along.
Instinct made her pull backwards as they drew near to the gaping chasm in the earth, where a mangled stairway descended into darkness. But it was a feeble tug. She felt on the point of collapse, weak and nauseous. Twice she crumpled to her knees, only to be yanked upright and hauled closer still. It seemed impossible that the women would keep going; surely not even they could walk into a place belonging to the dead, but they didn’t turn back.
“We can’t,” she choked out. “How can we enter the rift?!”
“Don’t worry,” soothed Sister Isobel. “The potion we gave you will take care of that.”
She had forgotten all about the potion they’d given her before. The one she’d so foolishly drunk without question. Kahlan wondered what it did. If it was somehow already harming her child from within.
The pains of her labor were coming quicker now, and she could fit fewer breaths between each one. She staggered forward as long as she could under the threat of their dacras, and they dragged her limp form along when each new pain hit, and she could not force her feet to move.
Sweat soaked and nauseous, Kahlan tried once more to summon the Con Dar, fumbling through pain and exhaustion for the strength of the blood rage. If they forced her all the way into the Underworld, she knew there would be no escape. She would never again see the world of the living. But the fury of the Con Dar seemed to slip further away with every step, and then she was stumbling half blind down steps cut into the charred wall of the rift.
She breathed in green smoke and the stench of death. All the lights had gone out. Kahlan looked up, and everything spun. She thought for a moment, as if in a dream, that she should see stars, it was so dark. But there were none overhead. The sky was gone.
She realized with dreadful certainty that she had just entered the Underworld. Her head seemed to clear, and through the gloom she saw the red-robed specter of Darken Rahl walking slowly towards her.
Author: Morgen
Summary: It was supposed to be their one chance to be together. Instead it plunged them straight into a nightmare.
Disclaimer: I don't own LOTS or profit from it in any way. Just worship it from afar.
Rating: PG-14
XIV. RIFT
Kahlan loosened her grip, uncurling her fingers from around Sister Isobel’s neck. She could feel the painful pressure of the dacra still digging into her belly. Confessing Sister Isobel would mean death to her child. There was no choice; Kahlan dropped her hand to her side.
Sister Isobel smiled. “That’s better. I always knew you were sensible, Kahlan, even as a little girl.”
“Don’t talk to me about Thandor.” Her blood curdled in her veins. “You’ve betrayed everything you once stood for. Everything you believed in.” She felt as if she’d taken a blow to the heart. Her father’s sudden switch to despising her and Dennee at their mother’s death had hurt less than this.
But Sister Isobel just shook her head. “No. I’ve watched countless children suffer. It wasn’t just you and your sister. Every child who came to Thandor was special, and every one had been abused by those who were supposed to love them best. I prayed to the Creator for years that she would do something to stop this, and she never did anything.”
“The Sisters of the Light!” Kahlan fought back frightened, frustrated tears. She couldn’t cry now. “Did you ever think that they might be her answer?”
Sister Isobel gave her a patient smile. “The Keeper has promised to see that no children suffer ever again. All will find peace in his way. He has shared with me visions of the endless calm he will soon bring about.” Kahlan thought of the dacra pressed against her belly, and all the countless women the banelings had killed just to get at and destroy their unborn babes. Sister Isobel reached out, taking Kahlan’s face in her hands. “You will get to help bring that peace, little Kahlan,” she said in the same gentle voice she’d used all along. As if nothing had changed. “I’m so happy it is you. You always were my favorite.”
“Enough reminiscing,” said the stout, elderly sister; her wrinkled face hard, eyes unforgiving. “Move, Confessor.”
The dacra dug into her belly a bit more as if to emphasize the woman’s point, and Kahlan could do nothing but comply. She took a small step forward. “Where are we going?”
“Just walk.” She felt a second dacra point press against the small of her back.
Kahlan took another step, caught between the blades. The pain of labor had faded with the sudden realization of Sister Isobel’s betrayal, but as she forced her body to begin moving again, it came back in tight waves, and she groaned. The dune they were forcing her up was steep, and as she staggered up the shifting sands, she reached inward, struggling to summon the wrath of the Con Dar. If Richard didn’t show up soon, it would be her only hope. But as angry and betrayed as she felt, the wild, primal anger of the blood rage remained elusive.
Sister Isobel kept a hand on her arm, gently helping her along. “Careful,” she cautioned when Kahlan stumbled, steadying her by the elbow.
Kahlan wrenched her arm away. “Don’t touch me,” she hissed though she was in no position to stop her.
Sister Isobel heaved a weary sigh. “Don’t think so unkindly of me, Kahlan. I have always had your best intentions at heart. The Confessors are of the past. You’re the last of a dying breed. Instead of fading with the rest of your sisters, you are to become the mother of a new world. Your name will be remembered by every last soul beyond the end of time. ”
“A dead world!” Kahlan spat. Her mind was racing. She had to slow these women down, and buy Richard more time to find her. If, she realized suddenly, he was even aware she needed him. If word had ever reached him. A chill ran down her spine. Rile’s escort was a Sister of the Dark. It was all too likely the young soldier was dead. She swallowed hard and slowed her steps as much as she dared, turning back to Sister Isobel. “You tricked me.”
“Actually, I did no such thing. I never once lied to you. When the Keeper learned of our shared history, he, in his infinite wisdom, realized that I was the one person who knew you well enough to keep you calm. To speak only the truth in a way that would not alarm you unnecessarily.”
“You mean you knew enough to deceive me.”
Sister Isobel seemed not to hear her. Instead, a glimmer of pride shone in her soft gray eyes. “The other sisters were on strict orders not to speak in your presence unless absolutely necessary.” She shot a scathing look at the stout old sister beside them. “Sister Dana always did have trouble following even the simplest of directions.”
Another wave of pain hit Kahlan abruptly and she groaned. She staggered forward, and would’ve collapsed then and there if not for the sisters grabbing her beneath the arms. They hauled her bodily up the rest of the dune while she struggled to make her legs stop shaking.
When they dropped her at the top, she finally understood why the horses had turned tail and fled. “No…” she stammered, staring out at the nightmare awaiting her. Before them stretched the rift. Acrid smoke hung like clouds, and broken, charred earth gaped open, a chasm leading down into the bowels of the Underworld.
Kahlan was so overcome by the sight, it took her a long time to realize the sisters had all stopped moving and were staring as well. She wondered if they planned to kill her here, at the very gateway to the Underworld. But though the dacras remained dangerously close to her unborn child, the sisters seemed almost distracted. The one before her, Sister Lena she’d been called, pursed her lips together.
“Are you sure it won’t hurt?” she asked as if resuming some prior conversation Kahlan had no knowledge of.
Sister Dana scoffed. “What’s a little pain for our master, if it does? We will have our reward.”
“What’s your reward?” gasped Kahlan, forcing out words when she longed only to groan in agony. Her labor seemed to be growing stronger. She felt feeble and lightheaded. The land and sky revolved slowly before her, changing places in an endless awful dance. But she had to keep them talking, stall them from whatever they had come here to do to her and her daughter. The prophecy floated through her mind like a warning. This was the moment the Sisters of the Dark had been working for. Surely at least one of them would want to stop and gloat.
Sister Dana smirked. She dragged the point of her dacra along Kahlan’s jawline, down her throat, letting it settle between her swollen breasts. “My reward is my youth, my beauty restored for all eternity.” She lifted an eyebrow, studying her intently. “You do not understand what a fine thing you have here in this body. No one who is young does.” She jerked her head at her companions, the younger Sisters of the Dark. “But I think some of you will begin to comprehend sooner than most.” No one said anything, but Sister Lena flinched almost imperceptibly.
Kahlan didn’t understand. “What?” she murmured.
“Move.” Sister Dana’s voice was little more than a growl. “We’re wasting valuable time.”
The press of the dacra forced her another step forward, the charred earth beginning to slant on a steep incline. Her muscles cried out at the change, and a sharp spasm flared across her lower back. With all the strength she had left, Kahlan forced her Confessor’s face into place and talked through pain that made her want to weep.
“Where are we going? What are you going to do to my child?”
It was Sister Isobel who answered her. “That’s not for us to tell you, Kahlan.” Amazingly her tone was still one meant to soothe. “It’ll be easier for you if you just walk.”
Kahlan stumbled forward a few steps more, the rift opening up before her like a giant mouth prepared to swallow her whole. If they got much closer, they would be in real danger of falling in. Green smoke drifted past, blown out of the chasm by a hot wind.
She looked back at Sister Isobel. The woman slowed a little every time she stopped to speak with her. “How did you,” she groaned, “how did you find me? When we parted, we went in different directions.”
Sister Isobel laughed. “Not for long. We’ve been trailing you closely since that day, carefully concealed with spells even your wizard doesn’t know.”
She thought of their hidden battle camp and wasn’t surprised. “Where did you learn this magic?”
“The scholars of Ashkari knew many things.”
Kahlan remembered the empty, snowbound city and the suicidal scholars. “They burned their books.”
“On the Underworld, yes. We sought information on how to better serve our master, and they destroyed all sorts of books you would no doubt think dark and foul. But they left many others, books on magic not necessarily malevolent, but still powerful. Books that I do believe would cause a stir even at the Wizard’s Keep. They helped us to track you, to hide our camp, and as we speak they are helping my sisters launch an attack on the rebel D’Harans led by Richard Rahl.”
Kahlan’s heart skipped a beat, and she tried not to think about what her friends might now be facing. She couldn’t lose herself to those fears. Richard was smart. He would survive their attack, but it meant help might not be coming any time soon, if at all.
Sister Isobel seemed to read her face. “Come now, Kahlan, don’t be grieved on his account. The prophecies make no secret of how he got you with child.”
Kahlan said nothing.
The feel of a dacra point jabbing at her spine in warning forced her to quicken her pace once more. They had descended even farther down the ragged black cliffs. There was no longer any trace of blue sky above. All was dense green fog. She began to cough and gripped her belly, keeping her feet only because of the sisters who dragged her along.
Instinct made her pull backwards as they drew near to the gaping chasm in the earth, where a mangled stairway descended into darkness. But it was a feeble tug. She felt on the point of collapse, weak and nauseous. Twice she crumpled to her knees, only to be yanked upright and hauled closer still. It seemed impossible that the women would keep going; surely not even they could walk into a place belonging to the dead, but they didn’t turn back.
“We can’t,” she choked out. “How can we enter the rift?!”
“Don’t worry,” soothed Sister Isobel. “The potion we gave you will take care of that.”
She had forgotten all about the potion they’d given her before. The one she’d so foolishly drunk without question. Kahlan wondered what it did. If it was somehow already harming her child from within.
The pains of her labor were coming quicker now, and she could fit fewer breaths between each one. She staggered forward as long as she could under the threat of their dacras, and they dragged her limp form along when each new pain hit, and she could not force her feet to move.
Sweat soaked and nauseous, Kahlan tried once more to summon the Con Dar, fumbling through pain and exhaustion for the strength of the blood rage. If they forced her all the way into the Underworld, she knew there would be no escape. She would never again see the world of the living. But the fury of the Con Dar seemed to slip further away with every step, and then she was stumbling half blind down steps cut into the charred wall of the rift.
She breathed in green smoke and the stench of death. All the lights had gone out. Kahlan looked up, and everything spun. She thought for a moment, as if in a dream, that she should see stars, it was so dark. But there were none overhead. The sky was gone.
She realized with dreadful certainty that she had just entered the Underworld. Her head seemed to clear, and through the gloom she saw the red-robed specter of Darken Rahl walking slowly towards her.