"That decline in viability, they found, would, over time, leave prophecy vulnerable to any number of ever growing problems. The infirmity that they concluded would be the most likely to strike first would come in a form they described as wormlike. They thought that it would begin to infest and destroy the living portions of the tree of prophecy itself, meaning the branches that are contemporary at the time of this wormlike infestation. In fact, they called it just that-a prophecy worm."

The air felt heavy in the thick silence.

Hands in his back pockets, Richard shrugged. "So what's the cure?"

Astonished by the question, Zedd stared at Richard as if he'd just asked how to heal a thunderstorm. "Cure? Richard, these experts who wrote this book predicted that there wasn't any cure, as such. They concluded, in the end, that without the vitality provided by new prophets, the tree of prophecy would eventually rot and die.

"They said that prophecy would only come back strong and healthy when new prophets returned to the world-in effect, when a seed of new prophecy sprouted and flourished. Old trees die and make room for the new shoots. It was determined by these learned wizards that the fate of prophecy as we know it is also doomed to aging, infirmity, and eventual death."

Richard had had to deal with any number of problems caused by prophecy, but the gloomy expressions around the table were infectious. It almost felt like a healer had come out of a back room to announce that an aging relative was near to passing on.

He thought about all the gifted prophets, devoted to their calling, who had worked all of their lives to contribute to this great body of work that was now withering and dying. He thought about the statue he himself had worked so hard to create and how it made him feel when it was destroyed.

He thought, too, that it might simply be the concept of death itself, in any form, that was so dismal because it reminded him of his own mortality — and of Kahlan's mortality.

He also thought that it might be the best thing that could happen. After all, if people no longer believed that prophecy had foreordained what would become of them, then maybe they would realize that they had to think for themselves and decide what was in their own best interest. Maybe, if unchained from a deterministic mindset, people would realize that it was they themselves who actually controlled their own destiny. If people comprehended what was really at stake, maybe they would come to realize the value of reason in the choices they made, instead of mindlessly just waiting for what was to happen, to happen.

"From what Ann and I have discovered," Nathan said into the still, stale air of the library, "the branch of prophecy that is vanishing is that which refers to times roughly since Richard was born. That, of course, makes the most sense because temporal souls nourish the active, living tissue of prophecy upon which this prophecy worm would feed. But I was able to determine that it hasn't all simply vanished, yet."

Zedd nodded. "It's dying back, but from the root, so some of it is still alive. I've found pockets of it alive and well."

"That's right-especially the portions from the present on into the future. As you suggest, it seems that the scourge has attacked the core of these branches, which began two or three decades back and so far have not extensively eaten their way into future events.

"That leaves sections of this prophetic branch-the branch involving you-that are still alive," the prophet said as he leaned on his hands toward Richard, "but once it dies, we will then lose even those prophecies, along with the memory of how profoundly important they are."

Richard glanced from Nathan's grim expression to Ann's equally serious face. He knew they had arrived at last at the heart of their purpose.

"That is why we've come looking for you, Richard Rahl," Ann said with grave intonation, "before it's too late. We have come about prophecy that so far is still alive and has warned us of the most serious crisis to face us since the great war."

Richard frowned, already unhappy that prophecy once again seemed about to cause him trouble. "What prophecy?"

Nathan pulled a small book out of a pocket and flipped it open. As he held it in both hands, he fixed Richard with a steady gaze to make sure he looked like he was going to listen carefully.

When Nathan was at last sure he had everyone's attention, he began. " 'In the year of the cicadas, when the champion of sacrifice and suffering, under the banner of both mankind and the Light'"-he glanced up from under his bushy eyebrows.»that would be Emperor Jagang —'finally splits his swarm, thus shall be the sign that prophecy has been awakened and the final and deciding battle is upon us. Be cautioned, for all true forks and their derivatives are tangled in this mantic root. Only one trunk branches from this conjoined primal origin. If fuer grissa ost drauka does not lead this final battle, then the world, already standing at the brink of darkness, will fall under that terrible shadow."

"Dear spirits," Zedd whispered. "Fuer grissa ost drauka is a cardinal link to a prophecy founding a principal fork. Conjoining it with this prophecy establishes a conjugate bifurcation."

Nathan arched an eyebrow. "Exactly."

Richard didn't fully understand what Zedd had said, but he caught the drift. And he didn't need them to tell him who fuer grissa ost drauka, the bringer of death, was; it was him.

"Jagang has split his forces," Ann said with quiet power as she fixed Richard in her steady gaze. "He brought his army up near to Aydindril, hoping to finish it, but the D'Haran forces, along with the people of the city, made use of winter to escape over the passes to D'Hara and out of Jagang's clutches."

"I know," Richard said. "That escape over the passes in winter was by Kahlan's orders. She's the one who told me about it."

Cara looked up in surprise, apparently intending to dispute his account, but after a glance at Nicci she decided to remain silent — at least for the moment.

"At any rate," Ann said, sounding annoyed by the interruption, "Jagang, unable to effectively use his vastly superior numbers to break through those heavily defended, very narrow passes, has finally decided to split his forces. Leaving an army to watch the passes, the emperor himself took the main element of his army south, headed all the way back down through the Midlands to skirt around the barrier of mountains and then hook around and make his way up into D'Hara.

"Our forces are headed south, down through D'Hara, to meet them. That was why when we were able to get a message from Verna about the condition of the books of prophecy at the People's Palace in D'Hara; she was able to ride south ahead of our army and go look them over herself."

"This is the year that the cicadas are returning," Nicci said, sounding alarmed. "I've seen them."

"That's right," Nathan said, still leaning forward on both hands. "That means the chronology is now fixed. The prophecies have all made their connections and have tumbled into place. Events are marked." In turn, he met the gaze of everyone in the room. "The end is upon us."

Zedd let out a low whistle.

"More importantly," Ann said in an authoritative tone, "it means that it is time for Lord Rahl to join the D'Haran forces and lead them in the final battle. Without you there, Richard, prophecy is quite clear; all will be lost. We have come to escort you to your forces, to help insure that you make it. We dare not risk delay; we must leave at once."

For the first time since they started talking about prophecy, Richard's knees felt weak.

"But I can't," he said. "I have to find Kahlan."

It sounded to him like a plea into a gale.

Ann took a deep breath, as if to bite her tongue while she searched for some urgently needed patience, or maybe words that would persuade him and finally settle the matter once and for all. The two Mord-Sith shared a look. Zedd pressed his thin lips tight while he considered. In frustration Nathan tossed the book he was holding on the table and wiped his hand across his face as he planted his left fist on a hip.