Chapters (110)
- Books by Terry Goodkind
- We Appreciate Your Support
- This is a work of fiction.
- Dedication
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Chapter 66
- Chapter 67
- Chapter 68
- Chapter 69
- Chapter 70
- Chapter 71
- Chapter 72
- Chapter 73
- Chapter 74
- Chapter 75
- Chapter 76
- Chapter 77
- Chapter 78
- Chapter 79
- Chapter 80
- Chapter 81
- Chapter 82
- Chapter 83
- Chapter 84
- Chapter 85
- Chapter 86
- Chapter 87
- Chapter 88
- Chapter 89
- Chapter 90
- Chapter 91
- Chapter 92
- Chapter 93
- Chapter 94
- Chapter 95
- Chapter 96
- Chapter 97
- Chapter 98
- Chapter 99
- Chapter 100
- Chapter 101
- Chapter 102
- Chapter 103
- Manifesto
- Supplemental Content
- Author Terry Goodkind
Magda lifted the rough cloth aside and cautiously entered what the map showed to be a complex maze. She held the lantern out, trying to see into the darkness, but she could see little of what was ahead. As she moved deeper into the carefully carved tunnel, she encountered layers of coarsely woven, raw linen hanging motionless across the passageway. It was unnerving to abruptly encounter the walls of cloth suspended in the darkness. She couldn’t imagine their purpose. She speculated that perhaps they were there to make the maze more confusing to trespassers. They were certainly confusing her.
The hanging cloth also hid many of the side passageways, making it difficult to know for certain where she was on the map and if it was merely a cloth hanging in the middle of the hall, or a cloth covering the opening to another passageway. Sometimes there were four cloth walls forming a square, several with passages behind them, some with none. Over and over, she had to check behind the hangings and then consult the paper Tilly had given her. Several times she had to retrace her steps and start over again, trying to be sure of the proper turns to take.
Even though she carefully studied the map as she slowly made progress deeper and deeper into the warren of tunnels, it seemed that the complex network didn’t match the drawing. It was frighteningly confusing. She was having trouble reconciling the map to the tunnels she found herself in and feared becoming lost in the maze.
After a time, though, Magda realized that the short marks along the line of the route she was to follow were not side corridors, as she had thought at first. The short lines were actually intended to designate the locations of the layers of cloth that hung across her way. She confirmed her theory by counting the hangings between side tunnels. Once she was properly oriented to Tilly’s drawing, she was more confident in selecting the proper turns when she reached intersections.
The place was dead quiet. The only sound was the soft swish of her boots on the sandstone floor. She noticed that the floor was relatively rough, while the others they had been in had been worn smooth by foot traffic. Apparently, not many people ever ventured this way.
Magda turned when she thought she heard a soft sound from behind. She stood motionless for a time, breathing as slowly as she could while she listened. When she didn’t hear it again, she finally moved on, quickening her pace.
To the sides, a few of the inky black tunnels didn’t have the hangings covering the openings. There were no doors anywhere in the maze, as there had been in the areas where people worked. It was as if doors were not needed because the oppressive darkness itself barred the way into the side passages. That, or the ominous, dead-still curtains.