tg.wizardfirstrule-第160部分

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　the　small　bridge；　and　spurred　it　along　the　bank　of　the　stream。　The　horse　ran　with　ease；　splashing　its　hooves　in　the　shallow　water　when　the　brush　blocked　the　way　along　the　bank。　Sunlit　hills；　mostly　barren　of　trees；　rose　up　around　the　stream。　As　the　banks　became　steeper；　he　led　the　horse　up　along　the　higher　ground；　where　it　could　make　easier　progress。　Richard　kept　a　watch　for　anyone　following；　or　observing；　but　saw　no　one。　The　hills　seemed　deserted。
　
　Chalk　white　cliffs　rose　up　to　either　side　of　the　stream；　cleft　faces　on　identical　hills　straddling　the　water。　Richard　was　off　the　horse　before　it　stopped。　Looking　about；　he　tethered　it　to　a　sumac　whose　red　fruit　were　already　dried　and　shriveled。　His　boots　slid　on　the　loose　ground'　as　he　descended　the　steep　bank。　There　was　a　narrow　foot　trail　through　the　slide　of　rock　and　dirt。　Following　it　brought　him　to　the　tall　mouth　of　a　cave。
　
　With　a　hand　on　the　hilt　of　the　sword；　he　peeked　around　the　opening；　checking　for　the　artist；　or　anyone　else。　There　was　no　one。　Immediately　inside　the　cave　were　drawings　on　the　walls。　They　covered　every　surface；　and　continued　back　into　the　darkness。
　
　Richard　was　overwhelmed。　There　were　hundreds　of　drawings；　maybe　thousands。　Some　were　little；　no　bigger　than　his　hand；　some　were　larger；　tall　as　he。　Each　depicted　a　different　scene。　Most　had　only　one　person　in　them；　but　a　few　had　many　people。　It　was　obvious　that　they　had　been　drawn　by　different　hands。　Some　were　delicately　rendered；　rich　in　detail；　with　shading　and　highlights；　depicting　people　with　broken　limbs；　or　drinking　from　cups　with　skulls　and　crossed　bones　on　them；　or　standing　next　to　fields　of　withered　crops。　Others　were　done　by　someone　with　little　talent　for　the　task：　their　figures　were　drawings　of　people　made　of　simple　lines。　But　the　scenes　in　these　were　similarly　gruesome。　Richard　guessed　that　the　talent　of　the　artist　was　of　little　importance；　it　was　the　message　that　counted
　
　Richard　found　drawings　done　by　different　hands　but　of　the　same　subject。　These　people　might　have　a　map　of　some　sort　around　them；　but　around　each　was　a　line　drawn　in　a　circle；　the　circle　having　a　skull　and　crossed　bones　on　it　somewhere。
　
　Keeper　spells。
　
　But　how　was　he　to　find　his？　There　were　drawings　everywhere。　He　didn't　know　what　the　drawing　of　his　spell　looked　like。　He　searched　the　walls　with　growing　panic；　moving　deeper　into　the　darkness。　He　ran　his　hands　over　the　pictures　as　he　moved；　trying　to　look　at　each；　so　as　not　to　miss　his。　His　eyes　darted　everywhere；　overwhelmed　by　the　number　of　spells；　searching　for　something　familiar；　not　knowing　exactly　what　to　look　for；　or　where。
　
　Richard　worked　his　way　back　into　the　darkness；　reasoning　that　maybe　there　was　an　end　to　the　drawings；　and　maybe　the　latest　were　at　the　end。　It　was　too　dark　to　see。　He　went　toward　the　mouth　of　the　cave　to　retrieve　reed　cane　torches　he　had　seen　there。
　
　Before　he　had　gone　far；　he　ran　smack　into　the　invisible　wall。　With　rising　panic；　he　realized　that　he　was　trapped　in　the　cave。　He　was　running　out　of　time。　The　torches　were　out　of　reach。
　
　He　ran　back　into　the　darkness；　searching。　He　had　trouble　seeing　the　spells；　and　still　there　was　no　end　to　them。　A　thought　he　definitely　didn't　like　came　to　him。
　
　If　there　be　need　enough。　The　night　stone。
　
　With　no　time　to　lose；　he　pulled　the　leather　pouch　from　his　pack。　He　looked　at　it　in　his　hand；　trying　to　decide　if　this　would　be　a　help；　or　simply　more　trouble。　Trouble　he　couldn't　handle。　He　thought　about　the　times　he　had　seen　the　stone　out　of　the　pouch。　Each　time；　it　had　taken　a　while　for　the　shadow　things　to　e。　Maybe　if　he　just　pulled　it　out　for　a　short　time；　had　a　look　into　the　darkness；　and　then　put　the　stone　back；　he　would　have　the　time　he　needed　before　the　shadows　found　him。　He　didn't　know　if　it　was　a　good　idea。
　
　If　there　be　need　enough。
　
　He　dumped　the　stone　into　his　hand。　Light　filled　the　cave。　Richard　wasted　no　time　looking　at　individual　drawings；　but　instead　quickly　went　deeper；　looking　for　where　they　ended。　From　the　corner　of　his　eye；　he　saw　the　first　shadow　materialize。　It　was　still　a　ways　off。　He　kept　going。
　
　At　last；　he　came　to　the　end　of　the　drawings。　The　shadows　were　almost　upon　him。　He　thrust　the　stone　back　in　the　leather　pouch。　In　the　darkness；　he　held　his　breath；　eyes　wide；　expecting　the　painful　touch　of　death。　'It　didn't　e。　The　only　light　was　a　dim　glow　with　a　bright　spot　in　the　center；　the　entrance；　but　it　didn't　provide　enough　light　to　see　the　drawings。　He　knew　he　would　have　to　take　out　the　stone　again。
　
　First；　with　his　fingers；　he　searched　through　his　pocket；　and　found　the　soft；　tacky　piece　of　stick　Zedd　had　given　him。　With　it　firmly　in　hand；　he　pulled　the　stone　out　again。　The　light　blinded　him　for　a　second　His　head　swiveled　around；　looking。
　
　Then　he　saw　it。　The　man　in　the　drawing　was　as　tall　as　he；　but　the　rest　of　the　drawing　was　larger　still。　It　was　crude；　but　he　knew　it　was　him。　The　sword　held　in　the　right　hand　had　the　word　Truth　written　on　it。　There　was　a　map　around　the　figure；　similar　to　the　one　Kahlan　had　drawn　on　the　ground。　On　one　side；　the　line　around　the　outside　edges　went　down　the　Callisidrin　and　across　the　center　of　the　bridge。　That　was　where　he　had　run　into　。it。
　
　The　shadows　called　his　name。　He　looked　up　to　see　hands　reaching　for　him。　He　thrust　the　stone　into　the　pouch　and　pressed　his　back　against　the　wall；　over　his　drawing；　listening　to　his　heart　pounding　in　his　ears。　In　dismay；　he　realized　that　the　drawing　was　too　large　for　him　to　erase　the　entire　circle　around　him。　If　he　only　erased　part　of　it；　he　had　no　way　of　knowing　where　the　gap　would　be；　or　how　to　make　the　gap　where　he　was　in　the　cave。
　
　He　backed　away；　to　prepare　himself　to　get　a　better　look　the　next　time　he　pulled　the　stone　out。　He　bumped　into　the　invisible　wall。　His　heart　felt　as　if　it　skipped　a　beat。　The　wall　was　almost　around　him。　He　had　no　time。
　
　He　pulled　the　stone　out　and　immediately　started　erasing　the　sword；　hoping　that　would　take　away　his　identity；　take　the　spell　off　him。　The　lines　erased　only　with　great　difficulty。　He　backed　away　a　step；　to　look；　and　hit　the　wall。　The　shadows　reached　for　him；　calling　his　name　seductively。
　
　He　dumped　the　stone　back　into　the　pouch　and　stood　in　the　blackness；　breathing　hard；　near　panic　at　the　feeling　of　being　trapped。　He　knew　he　couldn't　use　the　sword　to　fight　the　shadow　things　while　he　worked　on　the　drawing；　he　had　fought　the　shadows　before　and　it　took　everything　he　had。　His　mind　raced。　He　couldn't　think　of　what　to　do。　He　had　erased　the　sword；　and　that　didn't　work。　The　spell　must　still　recognize　him。　He　knew　there　wasn't　enough　time　to　erase　the　line　all　the　way　around　him。　His　breath　came　in　a　desperate　pant。
　
　There　was　flickering　light。　He　spun　around。　A　man　holding　one　of　the　reed　torches　came　closer；　an　oily　smile　on　his　face。　It　was　James；　the　artist。
　
　〃I　thought　I　might　find　you　here。　I　came　to　watch。　Anything　I　can　do　to　help？〃
　
　By　his　laugh；　Richard　knew　James　wasn't　about　to　help　him。　James　also　knew　that　with　the　wall　between　them　Richard　couldn't　use　the　sword　on　him。　He　laughed　at　Richard's　helplessness。
　
　Richard　cast　a　quick　glance　sideways。　The　torch　gave　enough　light　for　him　to　see　the　drawing。　The　invisible　wall　pushed　at　his　shoulder；　pushed　him　toward　the　wall。　A　wave　of　nausea　and　dizziness　went　through　him　at　the　touch。　He　was　only　a　step　away　from　the　cave　wall　as　it　was。　In　moments；　he　would　be　encased；　crushed；　or　poisoned。
　
　Richard　spun　to　the　drawing。　While　he　worked　with　one　hand；　he　searched　his　pocket　with　the　other。　He　pulled　out　the　stick　Zedd　had　told　him　he　could　use　to　alter　the　drawing。
　
　James　leaned　forward　with　a　chuckle；　watching　him　work。
　
　The　chuckle　stopped。　〃What　are　you　doing　there？〃
　
　Richard　didn't　answer　as　he　erased　the　right　hand　on　the　figure。
　
　〃Stop　that！〃　James　yelled。
　
　Richard　ignored　him　and　kept　erasing。　James　threw　the　torch　on　the　ground　and　pulled　out　a　drawing　stick　of　his　own。　The　artist　started　drawing　in　fast　slashing　strokes；　strands　of　his　greasy　hair　whipping　around　as　he　worked。　He　was　drawing　a　figure。　He　was　drawing　another　spell。　Richard　knew　that　if　James