They gently laid him back down. His hands were trembling. He looked miserable.

"Just let me rest, now," he murmured.

Betty, still standing in the doorway, watching intently, bleated her wish to come in.

"He will be all right," Jennsen said to her friend. "You just stay out there and let him rest."

Betty pulled softly and then lay down in the doorway to wait along with the rest of them. It was going to be a long night. Kahlan didn't think she was going to be able to sleep until she knew if Richard would be all right.

Zedd pointed. "There's another one, there, that needs to be cleaned up," he said to Chase.

Chase wore a chain-mail shirt over a tan leather tunic. His heavy black trousers held a black belt set with a large silver buckle emblazoned with the emblem of the boundary wardens. Beneath his black cloak, strapped everywhere-legs, waist, upper arms, over the backs of his shoulders-was a small arsenal of weapons, everything from small thin spikes held in the fist and used to puncture the skull to a crescent-shaped battle-axe used to divide a skull cleanly with one blow. Chase was deadly with any of them.

It had been a while now since they needed the skills of a boundary warden. Chase seemed to be a man without a mission.

The big man walked across the rampart and bent to pull a knife from beneath the body.

He grunted in recognition. "There it is." He held the walnut-handled knife up to the light as he inspected it. "I was worried I'd lost it."

He slipped the knife into an empty sheath without having to look. With one hand, he grabbed the waistband of the trousers and picked up the stiff body. He stepped into an opening in the crenellated wall and heaved the body out into the air.

Zedd looked over the edge. It was a drop of several thousand feet before the rock of the mountain flared enough for anything falling to make contact. It was several thousand more feet down a granite cliff before the forest began.

The golden sun was getting low in the mountains. The clouds had taken on streaks, of gold and orange. From this distance, the city below was as beautiful as ever, except Zedd knew that it was an empty place without the people to bring it life.

"Chase, Zedd," Rachel called from the doorway, "the stew is ready."

Zedd threw his skinny arms into the air. "Bags! It's about time! A man could starve waiting for stew to cook."

Rachel planted her fist with the wooden spoon on her hip and shook a finger of her other hand at him. "If you keep saying bad words, you'll not get any dinner."

Chase let out a sigh as he glanced over at Zedd. "And you think you have troubles. You wouldn't think that a girl who doesn't come up to my belt buckle could be such a trial."

Zedd followed Chase to the doorway through the thick stone wall. "Is she always this much trouble?"

Chase mussed Rachel's hair on the way past. "Always," he confided.

"Is the stew good?" Zedd asked. "Worth watching my language for?"

"My new mother taught me how to make it," Rachel said in a tempting singsong. "Rikka had some before she went out, and she said it was good."

Zedd smoothed back his unruly white hair. "Well, Emma can cook better than any woman I ever met."

"Then be good," Rachel said, "and I'll give you biscuits to go with the stew."

"Biscuits!"

"Sure. Stew wouldn't be stew without biscuits."

Zedd blinked at the child. "Why, that's what I always thought, too."

"You'd better let me see if she made it right, first," Chase said as they passed through the tapestry lined halls of the Keep. "I'd hate you to go making any firm commitments before we even know if the stew is edible."

"Friedrich helped me with the heavy parts," Rachel said. "He says it's good."

"We'll see," Chase said.

Rachel turned and shook her wooden spoon at him. "You have to wash your hands, first, though. I saw you throwing that dead man over the wall. You have to wash your hands before you come to the table and eat."

Chase gave Zedd a look of strained forbearance. "Somewhere, there's a boy enjoying himself right now, probably carrying around a dead frog, oblivious to the sorry fact that he's someday going to be married to little-miss-wash-your-hands-before-you-eat."

Zedd smiled. When Chase had taken Rachel in to be his daughter, it was just about the best thing Zedd could ever have wished for, Rachel thought so, too, and it looked like she still did. She was fiercely devoted to the man.

As they sat at the table, before the cheery fire in the hearth, Zedd enjoying his third bowl of stew, he couldn't recall the Keep being such a wonderful place. It was because there was a child, along with friends, once again in the halls of the Keep.

Friedrich, the man who had come on Richard's orders to warn Zedd of the impending attack on the Keep, had realized he had not been in time. The man used his head and had sought out Chase, the old friend he had heard Richard talk about.

While Chase had gone to rescue Zedd and Adie, Friedrich had returned to the Keep to spy on the people who had taken it. By watching carefully and staying out of sight of a Sister, Friedrich had been able to provide Chase and Zedd invaluable information about the number of people occupying the Keep, and their routines. He then helped take the place back.

Zedd liked the man. He was not only frightfully handy with a knife, but entertaining at conversation. Friedrich, since he had been married to a sorceress, was able to converse with Zedd without being intimidated as some were of wizards. Having lived in D'Hara all his life, Friedrich was also able to fill in pieces of information.

Rachel held up a carving of a hawk. "Look what Friedrich made for me.

Zedd. Isn't it the most beautiful thing you ever did see?"

Zedd smiled. "It certainly is."

"It's nothing," Friedrich scoffed. "If I had some gold leaf, then I could gild it for you. That used to be what I did for a living." He leaned back and smiled to himself. "Until Lord Rahl made me a boundary warden."

"You know," Zedd drawled offhandedly to both men, "the Keep is even more vulnerable, now, to those who might come and don't have magic than to those who do. I'm just fine protecting against those who are affected by magic, but not the other kind."

Chase nodded. "Seems so."

"Well, the thing is," he went on, "I was thinking that since there's no boundary any longer, and what with all the trouble about, perhaps you two would like to take on the responsibility of helping to protect the Wizard's Keep. I'm not nearly so fit for the task as would be someone trained in such things." Zedd leaned in, his brow lowering. "It's vitally important."

Elbows on the table, Chase chewed a bite of biscuit as he watched Zedd.

Finally, he stirred his spoon around in his bowl.

"Well, it could be a disaster if Jagang were to use those ungifted men to get his hands on the place again." He thought about it. "Emma will understand."

Zedd shrugged. "Bring her here."

Chase frowned. "Bring her here?"

Zedd gestured around. "The Keep is certainly big enough."

"But what would we do with our children?" Chase leaned back. "You don't want all my children here in the Keep, Zedd-they'd be running up and down, playing in the halls. It would drive you batty. Besides," Chase added, peering with one scowling eye at Rachel, "each one's uglier than the next."

Rachel hid her giggle behind a biscuit.

Zedd remembered the sounds of children's laughter in the Keep, the sounds of joy and love.

"Well, it would be a burden," he agreed, "but this is, after all, about the protection of the Keep. What sacrifice wouldn't it be worth making to protect the Keep?"

Rachel looked from Chase to Zedd. "My new sister, Lee, could bring Cat back to you, Zedd."