Free Debt of Bones by Terry Goodkind Page A

how the woman could be there when Abby had seen her remain behind. But it truly was her.
    Abby stilled. The Mother Confessor released her and, with a quick hand signal, urged her back. Abby didn’t question; she scurried back into the rushes as the Mother Confessor reached out toward the woman in red leather. The Mord-Sith was bent over, intent on her grisly business with the screaming wizard.
    In the distance, bugs chirped and clicked. Frogs called with insistent croaks. Not far away the river sloshed and burbled as it always did—a familiar, comforting sound of home.
    And then there came a sudden, violent concussion to the air. Thunder without sound. It drove the wind from Abby’s lungs. The wallop nearly knocked her senseless, making every joint in her body burn in sharp pain.
    There was no flash of light—just that pure and flawless jolt to the air. The world seemed to stop in its terrible splendor.
    Grass flattened as if in a wind radiating out in a ring from the Mord-Sith and the Mother Confessor. Abby’s senses returned as the pain in her joints thankfully melted away.
    Abby had never seen it done before, and had never expected to see it in the whole of her life, but she knew without doubt that she had just witnessed a Confessor unleashing her power. From what Abby’s mother had told her, it was the destruction of a person’s mind so complete that it left only numb devotion to the Confessor. She had but to ask and they would confess any truth, no matter the crime they had previously attempted to conceal or deny.
    “Mistress,” the Mord-Sith moaned in piteous lamentation.
    Abby, first staggered by the shock of the soundless thunder of the Mother Confessor’s power, and now stunned by the abject anguish of the woman crumpled on the ground, felt a hand grip her arm. It was the wizard.
    With the back of his other hand he wiped blood from his mouth. He labored to get his breath. “Leave her to it.”
    “Zedd … I … I’m so sorry. I tried to tell you not to use magic, but I didn’t call loud enough for you to hear.”
    He managed to smile through obvious pain. “I heard you.”
    “But why then did you use your gift?”
    “I thought that in the end, you would not be the kind of person to do such a terrible thing, and that you would show your true heart.” He pulled her away from the cries. “We used you. We wanted them to think they had succeeded.”
    “You knew what I was going to do? You knew I was to bring you to them so that they could capture you?”
    “I had a good idea. From the first there seemed more to you than you presented. You are not very talented at being a spy and a traitor. Since we arrived here you’ve been watching the shadows and jumping at the chirp of every bug.”
    The Mother Confessor rushed up. “Zedd, are you all right?”
    He put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be fine.” His eyes still held the glaze of terror. “Thank you for not being late. For a moment, I feared …”
    “I know.” The Mother Confessor offered a quick smile. “Let us hope your trick was worth it. You have until dawn. She said they expect her to torture you all night before bringing you to them in the morning. Their scouts alerted Anargo to our troops’ arrival.”
    Back in the rushes the Mord-Sith was screaming as though she were being flayed alive.
    Shivers ran through Abby’s shoulders. “They’ll hear her and know what’s happened.”
    “Even if they could hear at this distance, they will think it is Zedd, being tortured by her.” The Mother Confessor took the knife from Abby’s hand. “I am glad that you rewarded my faith and in the end chose not to join with them.”
    Abby wiped her palms on her skirts, shamed by all she had done, by what she had intended to do. She was beginning to shake. “Are you going to kill her?”
    The Mother Confessor, despite looking bone-weary after having touched the Mord-Sith, still had iron resolve in her eyes. “A Mord-Sith is different from anyone