"Terry Goodkind - Sword Of Truth 10 - Phantom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goodkind Terry)

The wizards who had come up with the theoretical process had, in the end, come to believe that
unleashing such an event might very well engender a cascade of events that couldn't be predicted
or controlled. They speculated that, much like a wildfire, it would continue to burn through links
with other people whose memory had not initially been altered. In the end, they had realized that,
with such incalculable, sweeping, and calamitous consequences, a Chainfire event had the very
real potential to unravel the world of life itself, so they had never dared even to test it.
Those four Sisters of the Dark had52;on Kahlan. They didn't care if they unraveled the world of
life. In fact, that was their ultimate goal.
Richard had no time to sleep. Now that he had finally convinced Nicci, Zedd, Cara, Nathan, and

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Ann that he wasn't crazy and that Kahlan existed in reality if no longer in their memories, they
were committed to helping him.
He desperately needed that help. He had to find Kahlan. She was his life. She completed him. She
was everything to him. Her unique intelligence had captivated him from the first moment he met
her. The memory of her beautiful green eyes, her smile, her touch, haunted him. Every waking
moment was a living nightmare that there was something more he should be doing.
While no one else could remember Kahlan, it seemed that Richard could think of nothing else. It
often felt to him as if he were her only connection to the world and if he were to stop
remembering her, stop thinking about her, she would finally, once and for all70; truly cease to
exist.
But he realized that if he was to accomplish anything, if he was to ever find Kahlan, he
sometimes had to force his thoughts of her aside in order to concentrate on the matters at hand.
He turned to Cara. "You don't feel anything odd?"
She arched an eyebrow. "We're in the Wizard's Keep, Lord Rahl52;who wouldn't feel odd? This
place makes my skin crawl."
"Any worse than usual?"
She heaved a sigh as she ran her hand down the long, single blond braid lying over the front of
her shoulder.
"No."
Richard snatched up a lantern. "Come on."
He swept out of the small room and into a long hall layered with thick carpets, as if there were
too many carpets on hand and the corridor had been the only place that could be found to put
them. They were mostly classic designs woven in subdued colors, but a few peeking out from
underneath were composed of bright yellows and oranges.
The carpets muted his boots as he marched past double doors to each side opened into dark
rooms. Cara, with her long legs, had no difficulty keeping up with him. Richard knew that a
number of the rooms were libraries, while others were elaborately decorated rooms seeming to
serve no purpose other than to lead to other rooms, which led to other rooms, some simple and
some ornate, all a part of the inscrutable and complex maze that was the Keep.
At an intersection Richard took a right, down a hall with walls thickly plastered in spiral designs
that had mellowed over the centuries to a warm golden brown. When they reached a stairway
Richard hooked his hand on the polished white marble newel post and took to the stairs heading
down. Glancing up the stairwell, he could see it climb around the square shaft high up into
darkness, into the distant upper reaches of the Keep.
"Where are we going?" Cara asked.
Richard was a bit startled by the question. "I don't know."