Richard leaned down closer to the frail child. The boy’s chest rose a little with each shallow breath, but his eyes remained closed. Throngs of people who had come from near and far for the grand wedding the day before flocked to the marketplace, buying everything from souvenirs and jewelry to fresh bread and cooked meats, to exotic drinks and potions, to colorful beads. The tightly packed market outside the palace had become a small city made up of thousands of tents, wagons, wagons, and stands. The boy lay on a tattered tattered carpet car pet placed on the bare ground just outside a tent covered w ith st stri rings ngs of colorf colorful ul beads beads. She didn’t look to have understood underst ood the t he meaning any a ny more more than tha n he had. He He glanced gla nced back over over his shoulder at the concern on Kahlan’s face. R ichard frowned, not sure that he had understood understood the whispered whi spered words.
com Tor® is a registered trademark of To Tom m Doherty Associates, LLC. A Tor Book Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC 175 Fifth Avenue New York, NY 10010. THE OMEN MACHINE Copyright © 2011 by Terry Goodkind All rights reserved. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
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