"Fuer Ulbrecken ost Brennika Dieser." Richard let out a frustrated sign. "I wish I knew what it meant."

"The Adventures of Bonnie Day. I think."

Richard turned to see Berdine looking past his shoulder at the table. She stepped back, her blue eyes glancing away as if she thought she had done something wrong. "What did you say," he whispered. Berdine pointed at the book on the table. "Fuer Ulbrecken ost Brennika Dieser.

You said you wished to know what it meant. It think it means The Adventures of Bonnie Day. It's an old dialect."

The Adventures of Bonnie Day was a book Richard had owned since his early youth. It had been his favorite book, and he had read it so often he practically knew it by heart.

Only after going to the Palace of the Prophets in the Old World had he discovered that the book had been written by Nathan Rahl, a prophet and Richard's ancestor. Nathan had written the book as a primer on prophecy, he said, and had given it to boys who had potential. Nathan had told Richard that with the exception of Richard, all who had possessed the book had met with fatal accidents.

When Richard was born, the Prelate and Nathan had come to the New World and stolen the Book of Counted Shadows from the Keep in order to prevent it from falling into Darken Rahl's hands. They gave it to Richard's stepfather, George Cypher, and extracted his promise to make Richard memorize the entire book, word for word, and then destroy it. The Book of Counted Shadows was needed in order to open the Boxes of Orden, back in D'Hara. Richard still knew that book by heart — every word.

Richard remembered fondly the happy times of his youth, living at home with is father and brother. He had loved his older brother, and looked up to him, Who knew then the treacherous turns life would take? There was no going back to those innocent times.

Nathan had also left behind a copy of The Adventures of Bonnie Day for him. He must have also left these copies, in other languages, here at the Keep when he had been here right after Richard had been born.

"How do you know what it says?" Richard asked.

Berdine swallowed. "It's in High D'Haran, but an old dialect of the tongue."

Richard realized, by the way her eyes had gone wide, that he must have a frightening look on his face. He put in an effort to smooth his features.

"You meant to say that you understand High D'Haran?" She nodded. "I was told that it's a dead language. A scholar I know who could understand High D'Haran told me that almost no one anymore knows it. How do you?

"From my father," she said. The emotion left her voice. "It was one of the reasons Darken Rahl chose me to be Mord-Sith." Her face had gone emotionless, too. "Few people still understood High D'Haran. My father was one of them. Darken Rahl used High D'Haran to work some of his magic, and he didn't like that there were others who knew the old tongue."

Richard didn't have to ask what had happened to her father.

"I'm sorry, Berdine."

He knew that in their training, those forced into the bondage of becoming Mord-Sith were compelled to torture their fathers to death. It was called the third breaking, their final test.

She showed no reaction. She had retreated behind the iron mask of her training. “Darken Rahl knew that my father had taught me some of the old tongue, but being Mord-Sith, I was no threat to him. He consulted with me, on occasion, to hear my interpretation of various words. High D'Haran is a difficult language to translate. Many words, especially in the older dialects, have shades of meaning that can only be understood by their context. I am no expert, by any means, but I understand some. Darken Rahl was a master at High D'Haran."

"And do you know the meaning of fuer grissa ost drauka?"

"A very ancient dialect. I'm not terribly well versed in versions that old." She thought a moment. "I think the literal translation is 'the bringer of death. Where did you hear this?"

He didn't want to think of the complications of the other meanings at the moment. "An old prophecy. It gives me this name."

Berdine clasped her hands behind her back. "Unfairly, Lord Rahl. Unless it is in reference to your skill at handling your enemies, not your friends."

Richard smiled. "Thank you, Berdine."

Her smile returned, like the sun from behind fading storm clouds.

"Let's go see what else we can find of interest in here," he said, heading for the arched opening at the far end of the chamber.

As he went through the doorway, Richard felt a tingling, tickling sensation pass across his flesh in a razor's-edge line. Once beyond the opening, it was gone. He turned when he heard Raina call his name.

The rest of them, on the other side, pressed their hands up against the air as if it were a sheet of impenetrable glass. Ulic beat his fist against it, but to no avail.

"Lord Rahl!" Cara called out. "How do we pass through?"

Richard returned to the doorway. "I'm not sure. I have magic that allows me to pass shields. Here, Berdine, give me your hand. See if that will work."

He stuck his hand back through the invisible barrier, and she gripped his wrist without hesitation. Slowly, he pulled her hand toward him until it penetrated the shield.

"Oh, that's cold," she complained.

"You all right? You want to try the rest of the way?"

When she nodded, he pulled her on. Once through, she shuddered and shook herself as if she were crawling with bugs.

Cara put her hand out toward the doorway. "Now me."

Richard began to reach for her, but stopped. "No. The rest of you wait here until we come back."

"What!" Cara shrieked. "You have to take us with you!"

"There are dangers I know nothing about. I can't be watching out for all of you and at the same time pay attention to what I'm doing. Berdine is enough in case I need protection. The rest of you wait here. If anything happens, you know how to get out."

"But you have to take us," Cara pleaded. "We can't leave you without protection." She turned. "Tell him, Ulic."

"She's right, Lord Rahl. We should be with you."

Richard shook his head. "One is enough. If something happened to me, then you wouldn't be able to get back out through the shield. If anything happens, and we don't return, I'm depending on you to carry on. If anything happens, you are in charge, Cara. If anything happens, get help for us, if you can. If you can't, well, take care of things until my grandfather Zedd and Kahlan get here."

"Don't do this!" Cara looked more distraught than he had ever seen her. "Lord Rahl, we can't afford to lose you."

"Cara, it will be all right. We'll be back, I promise. Wizards always keep then promises."

Cara huffed in anger. "Why her?"

Berdine flipped her wavy brown braid back over her shoulder as she flashed Cara a self-satisfied smile. "Because Lord Rani likes me best."

"Cara," Richard said as he scowled at Berdine, "it's because you're the leader. If anything happens to me, I want you to be in charge."

Cara stood a moment, considering. A self-satisfied smile of her own finally spread on her lips. "All right. But you better never pull a trick like this again."

Richard winked at her. "If you say so." He looked up the gloomy corridor. "Come on, Berdine. Let's go have a look around so we can finish and get out of this place."