Confessor by Terry Goodkind Page A

midair, lines of green and amber light traced yet more spells through space. They were somewhat reminiscent of the glowing green lines of the verification web they had done for the Chainfire spell in that very room, but this structure of three-dimensional formulas was materially different. And these glowing lines pulsed as if alive. He supposed that made sense. The power of Orden was the power of life itself.
    Other lines, connected to intersections of the green and, in places, amber light, were as black as the box. Peering at them was like looking through slits into death itself. Subtractive Magic had been mingled with Additive to create a network of power the likes of which Zedd had never imagined he would see in his lifetime.
    The whole web of light and darkness hung in space.
    The box of Orden itself sat in the center of that web, like a fat black spider.
    The Book of Life lay open nearby.
    “Nicci,” Zedd managed with only the greatest of difficulty, “what in the name of Creation have you done?”
    When she reached the table, Nicci turned back and stared at him for an uncomfortably long moment.
    “I have done nothing in the name of Creation. I have done it in the name of Richard Rahl.”
    Zedd pulled his gaze away from the terrible thing within the glowing lines to stare at her. He was having difficulty drawing a breath.
    “Nicci, what have you done?”
    “The only thing I could do. The thing that had to be done. The thing that only I could do.”
    The confluence of both sides of the gift holding the box of Orden within its glowing web was beyond imagining. It was the stuff of nightmares.
    Zedd chose his words carefully. “Are you suggesting that you believe that you can put that box in play?”
    The manner in which she slowly shook her head tightened his chest with dread. Her blue-eyed gaze riveted him in place.
    “I have already put it in play.”
    Zedd felt as if the floor might come apart under him and he might never stop falling. He wondered for just an instant if any of this was real. The whole room seemed to be swirling around him. His legs felt wobbly.
    Cara’s hand came up under his arm to steady him.
    “Are you out of your mind?” he asked, the heat rising in his voice as his legs stiffened.
    “Zedd…” She took a step closer. “I had to.”
    He couldn’t even make himself blink. “You had to? You had to?”
    “Yes. I had to. It’s the only way.”
    “The only way for what! The only way to end the world? The only way to destroy life itself?”
    “No. The only way to give us a chance to survive. You know what the world is coming to. You know what the Imperial Order is going to do—what they are on the verge of doing. The world is at the brink. Mankind is staring into a thousand years of darkness at best. At worst, mankind may never again emerge into the light.
    “You know that we are approaching paths in prophecy beyond which everything goes dark. Nathan has told you of those branches leading to a great void beyond which there is nothing. We stand staring into that void.”
    “And have you ever thought that what you have just done very well might be the cause of it—the very thing that takes mankind, all life, into that void of extinction?”
    “Sister Ulicia has already put the boxes of Orden in play. Do you think she and her Sisters of the Dark care about life? They work to unleash the Keeper of the underworld. If she succeeds, the world of life is doomed. You know what the boxes are, you know their power, you know what will happen if she is the one to rule the power of Orden.”
    “But that doesn’t mean—”
    “We have no choice.” Her gaze didn’t waver. “I had to.”
    “And do you have any idea how to invoke Orden? How to command the boxes? How to know the correct box?”
    “No, not yet,” she admitted.
    “You don’t even have the other two!”
    “We have a year to get them,” she said with calm determination. “We have a year from the first day of winter. A year