Free The Sword of the Truth, Book 12 - The Omen Machine by Terry Goodkind Page A

omens.
    “Prophecy has meaning,” Nathan said, “but the true meaning can only be unraveled by those gifted in such things, and I can tell you that those things are not revealed in a pile of pig guts.”
    When she saw the hesitancy in the crowd, Cara, in her white leather outfit, moved in to Richard’s left. “D’Harans have a saying: the Lord Rahl is the magic against magic; we are the steel against steel. He has more than proven himself to all of us. Leave the magic to him.”
    Coming from a Mord-Sith, those words had a chilling finality.
    The crowd seemed to realize that they were not merely pushing into areas where they didn’t belong, but overstepping bounds. Somewhat shamed, they spoke quietly among themselves, agreeing with one another that it made sense that maybe they should leave such matters to those who were best able to deal with them. Everyone seemed to relax a bit, as if having just pulled back from the brink.
    Out of the corner of his eye to the right, Richard saw the blue robes of one of the serving women coming up on the far side of Kahlan.
    The woman gently laid her left hand on Kahlan’s forearm as if wanting to speak to her confidentially.
    That, more than anything, was what got Richard’s attention. People didn’t just come up and casually lay a hand on the Mother Confessor.
    As she came around and turned in toward Kahlan, Richard saw the haunted look in the woman’s eyes and the blood down the front of her robes.
    He was already moving when he saw the knife in her other hand sweeping around toward Kahlan’s chest.

CHAPTER 10
     
    T ime itself seemed to stop.
    Richard recognized all too well the eternal emptiness between the heartbeats of time, that expectant void before the lightning ignition of power.
    He was a step too far away to stop the woman in time, yet he also knew that he was too close for what was about to happen.
    It was already out of his hands and there was nothing he could do about it.
    Life and death hung in that instant of time. Kahlan could not afford to hesitate. His instinct to turn away tensed his muscles even though he was well aware that nothing he could do would be fast enough.
    The sea of people stood wide-eyed, frozen in shock. Several Mord-Sith in red leather had already begun to leap a distance that Richard knew they could never make in time. He saw Cara’s red Agiel beginning to spin up into her hand, soldiers’ hands going for swords, and Zedd’s hand lifting to cast magic. Richard knew that not one of them had a chance to make it in time.
    At the center of it all, Richard saw the woman holding Kahlan’s forearm down out of the way as the bloody knife in her other hand arced around toward Kahlan’s chest.
    In that instant everyone had only begun to move.
    Into that silent void in time, thunder without sound suddenly ignited.
    Time crashed back in a headlong rush as the force of the concussion exploded through the confined space of the banquet hall.
    The impact to the air raced outward in a circle.
    People near the front cried out in pain as they tumbled backward to the ground. Those farther away in the rear were knocked back a few steps. In shock and fear they too late protectively covered their faces with an arm.
    Food flew off tables and carts; glasses and plates shattered against the walls; wine bottles, cutlery, containers, small serving bowls, napkins, and fragments of glass were blown back by the shock wave sweeping across the room at lightning speed. When it hit the far end of the room the glass in all the windows blew out. The bottoms of curtains flapped out through the shattered windows. Knives, forks, food, drink, plates, and pieces of broken glass clattered across the floor.
    Richard was by far the one closest to Kahlan as she had unleashed her Confessor power. Too close. Proximity to such power being loosed was dangerous. The pain of it seared through every joint in his body, dropping him to a knee. Zedd fell back, knocked from his feet. Nathan,