"The people of the New World collected all those ungifted offspring of the House of Rahl and their every single last descendant, and sent the whole lot of them across the great barrier, to the Old World, where the people had professed that they wanted mankind to be free of magic."

Richard smiled with the irony, even of such a grim event as this. "The wizards of the New World, in essence, gave their enemy in the Old World exactly what they professed to want, what they had been fighting for:

mankind without magic."

His smile withered. "Can you imagine deciding that we had to banish Jennsen and send her into some fearful unknown, simply because of the fact that she can't see magic?"

Kahlan shook her head as she tried to envision such a time. "What a horror, to be uprooted and sent away, especially to the enemy of your own people."

Richard rode in silence for a time. Finally, he went on with the story.

"It was a terrifying event for those banished, but it was also traumatic almost beyond endurance to those who were left. Can you even imagine what it must have been like. All those friends and relatives suddenly ripped out of your life, your family? The disruption to trade and livelihood?" Richard's words came with bitter finality. "All because they decided some attribute was more important than human life."

Just listening to the story, Kahlan felt as if she had been through an ordeal. She watched Richard riding beside her, staring off, lost in his own thoughts.

"Then what?" she finally asked. "Did they ever hear from those who were banished?"

He shook his head. "No, nothing. They were now beyond the great barrier. They were gone."

Kahlan stroked her horse's neck, just to feel the comfort of something alive. "What did they do about those who were born after that?"

Still he stared off. "Killed them."

Kahlan swallowed in revulsion. "I can't imagine how they could do that."

"They could tell, once the child was born, if it was ungifted. It was said to be easier then, before it was named."

Kahlan couldn't find her voice for a moment. "Still," she said in a weak voice, "I can't imagine it."

"It's no different from what Confessors did about the birth of male Confessors."

His words cut through her. She hated the memory of those times. Hated the memory of a male child being born to a Confessor. Hated the memory of them being put to death by command of the mother.

There was said to be no choice. Male Confessors in the past had had no self-control over their power. They became monsters, started wars, caused unimaginable suffering.

It was argued that there was no choice but to put a male child of a Confessor to death, before they were named.

Kahlan couldn't force herself to look up into Richard's eyes. The witch woman, Shota, had foretold that she and Richard would conceive a male child.

Neither Kahlan nor Richard would ever for an instant consider harming any child of theirs, a child resulting from their love for one another, from their love of life. She couldn't imagine putting a child of theirs to death for being born a male child of her as a Confessor, or an ungifted male or female child of Richard for being a Rahl. How could anyone say that such a life had no right to exist because of who they were, what they were like, or what they might possibly become.

"Somewhere along the line after this book was written," Richard said in a quiet voice, "things changed. When this book was written, the Lord Rahl of D'Hara always married, and they knew when he produced an offspring. When the child was pristinely ungifted, they ended its life as mercifully as they could.

"At some point, ruling wizards of the House of Rahl became like Darken Rahl. They took any woman they wanted, whenever they wanted. The details, such as if an ungifted child born of those couplings was actually a pillar of Creation, became unimportant to them. They simply killed any offspring, except the gifted heir."

"But they were wizards-they could have told which ones were like that and at least not killed the rest."

"If they wanted, I suppose they could have, but, like Darken Rahl, their only interest was in the single gifted heir. They simply killed the rest."

"So, such offspring hid for fear of their life and one managed to escape the grasp of Darken Rahl until you killed him first. And so you have a sister, Jennsen."

Richard's smile returned. "And so I do."

Kahlan followed his gaze and saw distant specks, black-tipped races, watching, as they soared on the updrafts of the high cliffs of the mountains to the east.

She took a purging breath of the hot, humid air. "Richard, those ungifted offspring that were banished to the Old World, do you think they survived?"

"If the wizards in the Old World didn't slaughter them."

"But everyone down here in the Old World is the same as in the New World. I've fought against the soldiers from here-with Zedd and the Sisters of the Light. We used magic of every sort to try to halt the Order's advance. I can tell you firsthand that all those from the Old World are affected by magic, so that means they all are born with that spark of the gift. There are no broken links in the chain of magic in the Old World."

"From everything I've seen down here, I'd have to agree."

Kahlan wiped sweat from her brow. It was running into her eyes. "So what happened to those banished people?"

Richard gazed off toward the mountains beneath the races. "I can't imagine. But it must have been horrifying for them."

"So you think that maybe that was the end of them? That maybe they perished, or were put to death?"

He regarded her with a sidelong glance. "I don't know. But what I'd like to know is why that place back there is named the same as they were called in this book: the Pillars of Creation." His eyes took on a menacing gleam. "And far worse yet, I'd like to know why, as Jennsen told us, a copy of this book is among Jagang's most prized possessions."

That troublesome thought had been running through Kahlan's mind as well.

She looked up at him from beneath a frown. "Maybe you shouldn't have skipped ahead in your reading of the book, Lord Rahl."

Richard's fleeting smile wasn't all she'd hoped for. "I'll be relieved if that's the biggest mistake I've made, lately."

"What do you mean?"

He raked his hair back. "Is anything different about your Confessor's power?"

"Different?" Almost involuntarily, his question caused her to draw back, to focus inwardly, to take stock of the force she always felt within herself. "No. It feels the same as always."

The power coiled in the core of her being did not need to be summoned when there was need of it. As always, it was there at the ready; it only required that she release her restraint of it for it to be unleashed.

"There's something wrong with the sword," he said, catching her by surprise. "Wrong with its power."

Kahlan couldn't imagine what to make of such a notion. "How can you tell? What's different?"

Richard idly stroked his thumbs along the reins turned back over his fingers. "It's hard to define exactly what's different. I'm just used to the feeling of it being at my beck and call. It responds when I need it, but for some reason it seems to be hesitant about doing so."

Kahlan felt that now, more than ever, they needed to get back to Aydindril and see Zedd. Zedd was the keeper of the sword. Even though they couldn't take the sword through the sliph, Zedd would be able to give them insight about any nuance of its power. He would know what to do. He would be able to help Richard with the headaches, too.

And Kahlan knew that Richard needed help. She could see that he wasn't himself. His gray eyes held a glaze of pain, but there was something more etched in his expression, in the way he moved, the way he carried himself.