Debt of Bones by Terry Goodkind Page A

Abby’s mind as her mother recounted it, had sent a chill through Abby. Wizard’s fire was the bane of life, called forth to scourge an enemy. This could be nothing else.
    “For killing my love, my Erilyn, the mother of our daughter, and all the other innocent loved ones of innocent people,” Zedd whispered, “I send you, Panis Rahl, the gift of death.”
    The wizard opened his arms outward. The liquid blue and yellow fire, bidden by its master, tumbled forward, gathering speed, roaring away toward D’Hara. As it crossed the river, it grew like angry lightning blooming forth, wailing with wrathful fury, reflecting in glimmering points from the water in thousands of bright sparkles.
    The wizard’s fire shot across the growing wall of green, just catching the upper edge. At the contact, green flame flared forth, some of it tearing away, caught up behind the wizard’s fire, trailing after like smoke behind flame. The deadly mix howled toward the horizon. Everyone stood transfixed, watching, until all trace of it had vanished in the distance.
    When Zedd, pale and drawn, turned back to them, Abby clutched his robes. “Zedd, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t—”
    He put his fingers to her lips to silence her. “There is someone waiting for you.”
    He tilted his head. She turned. Back by the rushes, Philip stood holding Jana’s hand. Abby gasped with a jolt of giddy joy. Philip grinned his familiar grin. At his other side, her father smiled and nodded his approval to her.
    Arms reaching, Abby ran to them. Jana’s face wrinkled. She backed against Philip. Abby fell to her knees before her.
    “It’s Mama,” Philip said to Jana. “She just has herself some new clothes.”
    Abby realized Jana was frightened by the red leather outfit she was wearing. Abby grinned through her tears.
    “Mama!” Jana cried at seeing the smile.
    Abby threw her arms around her daughter. She laughed and hugged Jana so hard the child squeaked in protest. Abby felt Philip’s hand on her shoulder in loving greeting. Abby stood and threw an arm around him, tears choking her voice. Her father put a comforting hand to her back while she squeezed Jana’s hand.
    Zedd, Delora, and the Mother Confessor gathered them and herded them up the hill toward the people waiting at the top. Soldiers, mostly officers, some that Abby recognized, a few other people from Aydindril, and the wizard Thomas waited with the freed prisoners. Among the people liberated were those of Coney Crossing; people who held Abby, the daughter of a sorceress, in no favor. But they were her people, the people from her home, the people she had wanted saved.
    Zedd rested a hand on Abby’s shoulder. Abby was shocked to see that his wavy brown hair was now partly snow white. She knew without a looking glass that hers had undergone the same transformation in the place beyond the world of life, where, for a time, they had been.
    “This is Abigail, born of Helsa.” the wizard called out to the people gathered. “She is the one who went to Aydindril to seek my help. Though she does not have magic, it is because of her that you people are all free. She cared enough to beg for your lives.”
    Abby, with Philip’s arm around her waist and Jana’s hand in hers, looked from the wizard to the sorceress. and then to the Mother Confessor. The Mother Confessor smiled. Abbey thought it a coldhearted thing to do in view of the fact that Zedd’s daughter had been murdered before their eyes not long before. She whispered as much.
    The Mother Confessor’s smile widened. “Don’t you remember?” she asked as she leaned close. “Don’t you remember what I told you we call him?”
    Abby, confused by everything that had happened, couldn’t imagine what the Mother Confessor was talking about. When she admitted she didn’t, the Mother Confessor and the sorceress shepherded her onward, past the grave where Abby had reburied her mother’s skull upon her return, and into the house.
    With a hand, the