The way she said it told him she was expecting him to say yes. It also told him this was important, and she wanted him to be a part of whatever was going to happen.
“I can travel,” he answered.
“I have something I need to do, and it isn’t going to be very pleasant. But as protector of the Druids—officially now, your trial period is over—I need you to bear witness. We leave in the morning.”
She dismissed him then, leaving him to wonder at the nature and purpose of her mysterious outing.
TWENTY-EIGHT
HE MANAGED TO STAY AWAKE UNTIL SUNSET, TRYING TO SET his internal clock back on a regular schedule so he would sleep well that night. While still awake, he spent his time alone, thinking about what Aphenglow Elessedil had told him. He was no longer in training to be a Druid protector; he now was one. Hearing her pronouncement had generated a mix of emotions. He was excited to be a part of the Druid order, feeling that in spite of everything that had happened, he had found the home and the life he was looking for. He knew he wasn’t as proficient or skilled as he should be, but he believed that he would become so in time. But it felt strange and vaguely disconcerting to be making such a drastic shift away from everything familiar and reliable. Gone was his Leah home and its familiar surroundings; gone his life as a shipper and flier of freight. Gone, too, for all intents and purposes, were his family and friends. Now he was a swordsman in service to the Druids. He would be asked to shoulder much greater responsibilities and challenges, and his family and friends would be found in Paranor.
He did not regret this change in his life; after all, he had sought it out willingly. He did not now wish it reversed. But having it actually come to pass, no longer only a possibility but a full-blown reality, was a bit unsettling. So he took time to consider its ramifications. He turned it about and examined it. He pictured himself in his new role and tried to envision how he would behave given what he believed would be required of him.
He sat where he could watch the Druids pass by on their way to engage in and complete assignments. He caught sight of Sebec a number of times but the young Druid always appeared to be in a great hurry, and Paxon didn’t want to interrupt his work even though he was anxious to share his good news. Of all the Druids he had met, Sebec was the one he liked best and felt closest to. He imagined it would be fun having him as a daily companion.
He ate an early dinner, sitting with Avelene and a couple of the other Druids he had come to know, talking about his elevation to Druid protector, exchanging jokes and laughter about the job’s exaggerated demands on his skills and intellect. Afterward, he went to visit Chrysallin and spent more than an hour talking with her about everything that had happened to them, staying until she grew so tired she was falling asleep.
Then he went off to bed himself, exhausted and happy, and slept undisturbed until morning.
He was at breakfast the following day when Sebec came for him. “The Ard Rhys is ready for you,” he announced.
Paxon followed the Druid along the corridors of the Keep toward the landing platform attached to the north tower where they would find the Ard Rhys waiting.
“Do you know what this is about?” he asked Sebec at one point.
The other shook his head. “But I’m to go with you.”
This was unexpected. The Ard Rhys hadn’t said anything about Sebec accompanying them. He wondered what other surprises awaited him.
The Ard Rhys greeted them when they reached the landing platform, waiting for them beside her personal cruiser with Captain of her Druid Guard Dajoo Rees and two of his men. Apparently, there was no one else accompanying them; when they boarded, they were alone. The Ard Rhys did not offer an explanation for what they were doing or even speak to them again once they had released the mooring ropes and set out. Instead, she indicated a bench astern and had them sit there while she stood in the pilot box and set their course. The Trolls worked the lines and light sheaths, and no one said much of anything.
The day was bright and clear and beautiful, and Paxon soon forgot about her reticent behavior and air of mystery and spent his time looking out over the countryside and exchanging comments with Sebec. He was tracking their course as they went, familiar with the countryside they were passing over—coming down out of the forests surrounding Paranor to the Dragon’s Teeth, from there proceeding through the Kennon Pass to the Borderlands, and then turning west to follow the Mermidon River as it ran on toward Arborlon and the Westland.
When they finally set down, they were well out into the grasslands of the Streleheim, far distant from much of anything.
As they disembarked onto the flats amid miles and miles of emptiness, Paxon felt for the first time that something wasn’t right. The sense of uneasiness he experienced as he looked around was palpable, but he kept silent and waited to see what would happen.
“Where are we?” Sebec asked finally as they walked out onto the flats.
The Ard Rhys stopped and turned to face him. “Our destination. This is where we part company.”
“What are we expected to do out here?” He looked confused.
“Not we, Sebec. Paxon isn’t going with you. Nor I. You will go alone.”
Sebec stared. “Go where? I don’t understand.”
“I think you do.” Her voice was soft, but her eyes were hard as she faced him. “You crossed a forbidden line, Sebec. You have to accept the consequences. You know that.”
Sebec’s face changed, turning pale, all expression leaching away. “This isn’t right. You’ve made a mistake.”
“I wish that were so. I wish I had. But we both know the truth. You were the spy in our midst, the traitor who stole the artifacts of magic and gave them to Arcannen, the one who kept him informed of the details of all our undertakings. Why did you do it?”
“I didn’t! I didn’t do anything!” He was incensed, outraged. Arms in the air, hands clenched into fists, he was gesturing wildly. “You’re wrong about this! It wasn’t me! How could you think it was me?”
“Are you telling me it was someone else?”
“Yes, that’s what I’m telling you!”
Paxon could not believe what he was hearing. A part of him wanted to jump in and defend Sebec—his friend, his teacher, his companion. But he held off, waiting to hear the rest of what the Ard Rhys had to say, thinking—hoping—she would somehow turn out to be wrong.
“How could I think it was you?” she repeated. “Well, I’ll tell you. I never suspected it was you in the beginning, never once even considered it could be you. But when you took the Stiehl, I began to think more seriously about the possibility that it might be. I couldn’t get past the fact that only you and I had clear access to everything in the artifact chamber. A skilled user of magic, trained properly, could negate those wards, no matter how cleverly laid down, so long as he or she knew how it had been done. You qualified. Even then, I thought it must be someone else, prayed that it was, that you weren’t the one responsible. I had so much faith in you. I believed so strongly in your loyalty. Could I have been that badly mistaken?”
She shook her head. “So I decided to test you. I told you I had decided to place the crimson Elfstones in the chamber vault. I let you help me layer in the wards. Essentially, I gave you the keys to open them. When I examined those wards several days ago, they had been taken down and put back. Only you could have done that because only you would have known how to both remove and replace them in the exact same way. Which you had to do to protect yourself because when you opened the vault you discovered the Elfstones weren’t there. Of course, they never were. I kept them tucked away in my chambers and installed an empty box for you to find.”
She paused, assessing his expression. “But then you did something even more foolish. You sent me to speak to Paxon without warning me I would find him in his sister’s room. And afterward, while I lay recovering from her attack on me, you agreed to let Paxon go alone to Wayford, knowing what he intended. It was all too much. Taken as a whole, it
removed any doubt.”
“I cannot believe you are accusing me!” Sebec shouted. “How can you do this to me?”
“How could you do it to me?” There was a dangerous look in her eyes. “I don’t know when I first started to suspect you, Sebec. I can’t be sure because all the while I kept telling myself I must be wrong. I wanted to be wrong.”
“You are wrong!” he screamed at her.
“I am so very disappointed in you. I trusted you, and you betrayed me. You betrayed the Druid order. I think this is all Arcannen’s doing, but I need for you to tell me I’m right.”
She stepped close to him and seized his hands. “Am I right? Look at me! Am I?”
He started to say something, his face angry and harsh, but then his face changed as his eyes locked on hers and her hands tightened about his, almost as if he were a puppet whose strings had been cut. “Yes.”
“Why did you do it?”
Sebec looked stricken, his defenses gone, his denials pointless. Paxon knew at once that the Ard Rhys had done something to him, perhaps used magic to render him compliant, but whatever the case he was defenseless in her grip. “You wouldn’t understand.”
She looked startled. “What wouldn’t I understand? Tell me!”
He blinked rapidly. “Arcannen picked me up off the streets when I was thieving and lying to stay alive and gave me a home. He cared about me when no one else did! He raised me and trained me in the uses of magic. He told me I was meant to do something important, something great. I would have done anything for him.”
“You were spying for him from the beginning?” she asked in disbelief.
“He was the one who sent me to you. I was to make you like me enough that you would trust me. I was good at doing that, even when I was on the streets. I could make people believe anything. Arcannen told me it was a gift I should put to use. He sent me to Paranor to become a Druid and get close to you. I did that. I became your favorite. I was your shadow, and everything you did I reported back to him.”
“Shades, Sebec,” Aphenglow whispered. “Don’t you understand what he did to you? Don’t you realize how you were used?”
The young Druid dropped to his knees and began to cry. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. Don’t hurt me. Please, Mistress!”
She released his hands and stepped away. “You chose your path, and now you must travel it to its unfortunate end. I wish I could offer you a different alternative, but your actions ultimately led to the deaths of Starks and the young Druid on the streets of Leah. The extent of your betrayal gives me no choice.” She turned away. “Come, Paxon. Time to be going.”
The Highlander hesitated, still staring at Sebec in disbelief, and then he started to follow her.
“Paxon, wait!” Sebec cried out, struggling to his feet. “Don’t leave me like this! Help me! Tell her how much I did for you! Tell her how good I was to you! Ask her to spare me! Are you just going to let this happen?”
The Highlander almost responded, wanting to do something to change things, knowing what was coming. But the Ard Rhys took his arm in a firm grip and turned him away. “Let him be.”
Together, they walked back to the cruiser and climbed aboard. The Trolls, with Captain of the Druid Guard Dajoo Rees leading, went past them toward Sebec as they did so. Momentary wails of despair rose, cries of “Spare me! Give me my life!” And then silence.
When the Trolls returned to the airship and set about casting off the mooring lines and preparing to lift away, Paxon was sitting on the bench he had occupied with Sebec on the flight out, still staring fixedly at the deck planking. At the last possible moment, unable to help himself, he lifted his head and looked back.
Sebec’s body lay sprawled on a blood-soaked patch of ground, separated from his head. As the airship slowly began to rise, his remains grew steadily smaller and finally shrank away to nothing.
After they had been airborne for a time and Paxon had begun to recover his composure, the Ard Rhys came back to sit beside him. “I wish there had been another choice,” she said quietly.
The Highlander exhaled sharply, running his hands through his red hair. “I trusted him. I liked him. I don’t understand.”
She shook her head. “People are capable of terrible things. We think we know them, but we really don’t. We let ourselves be deceived because we are always expecting the best out of those who seem willing to provide it.”
“He was always so respectful when talking about you. ‘My mistress.’ He called you that constantly. He helped me with my training; he seemed to want to make things easier for me. But all along he was thinking of ways to help Arcannen. Even if it meant I got hurt. Or killed. Chrys, too. He knew what he was doing. He had to. How could he live with himself?”
“He would have explained everything away, given the chance to do so—telling himself and all of us it was necessary or unavoidable. He would have been able to provide reasons for all of it. A basket full of justifications. Sebec had so much potential; he could have done everything he said he wanted to do without giving in to Arcannen. But he didn’t see it. He believed there was only one choice—to use us, to betray the Druid order, to embrace the roles of traitor and spy.”
Paxon straightened and looked at her. “What do you think will happen when Arcannen finds out?”
She met his gaze and held it. “Does it matter?”
“I don’t suppose so.”
“What matters right now, Paxon, is how all this has affected you. I brought you out here for a specific reason. Not because I couldn’t have told you about Sebec in Paranor and left you behind while I dealt with him, but because I thought it was important for you to see for yourself what is sometimes required of us. Of you, as a Druid protector, every bit as much as the Druids themselves. Things of this sort have happened before; they will happen again. There will almost certainly be disappointments and deceptions in your life with us. There will be times when you hate yourself for what you have to do. There will be times when the choices will be as difficult as the one you made in Wayford when you let Arcannen go free in order to help your sister. You came to us to find a purpose in your life, a path that would lead you to something important and meaningful. But following that path can also break your heart.”
She was talking about herself and Sebec. She was explaining to him how hard it could be to accept the way things sometimes worked out.
“I haven’t changed my mind,” he said. “I still want to be at Paranor. I still want to do what you’ve asked of me.”
She smiled then, and the creases in her brow lessened marginally and the light in her eyes brightened.
“Then you shall have your chance.”
FOR JUDINE
NOW AND ALWAYS
ALSO BY TERRY BROOKS
SHANNARA
SHANNARA
First King of Shannara
The Sword of Shannara
The Elfstones of Shannara
The Wishsong of Shannara
THE HERITAGE OF SHANNARA
The Scions of Shannara
The Druid of Shannara
The Elf Queen of Shannara
The Talismans of Shannara
THE VOYAGE OF THE JERLE SHANNARA
Ilse Witch
Antrax
Morgawr
HIGH DRUID OF SHANNARA
Jarka Ruus
Tanequil
Straken
THE DARK LEGACY OF SHANNARA
Wards of Faerie
Bloodfire Quest
Witch Wraith
PRE-SHANNARA
GENESIS OF SHANNARA
Armageddon’s Children
The Elves of Cintra
The Gypsy Morph
LEGENDS OF SHANNARA
Bearers of the Black Staff
The Measure of the Magic
The World of Shannara
THE MAGIC KINGDOM OF LANDOVER
Magic Kingdom for Sale—Sold!
The Black Unicorn
Wizard at Large<
br />
The Tangle Box
Witches’ Brew
A Princess of Landover
THE WORD AND THE VOID
Running with the Demon
A Knight of the Word
Angel Fire East
Sometimes the Magic Works:
Lessons from a Writing Life
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Terry Brooks is the New York Times bestselling author of more than thirty books, including the Dark Legacy of Shannara adventures Wards of Faerie and Bloodfire Quest; the Legends of Shannara novels Bearers of the Black Staff and The Measure of the Magic; the Genesis of Shannara trilogy: Armageddon’s Children, The Elves of Cintra, and The Gypsy Morph; The Sword of Shannara; the Voyage of the Jerle Shannara trilogy: Ilse Witch, Antrax, and Morgawr; the High Druid of Shannara trilogy: Jarka Ruus, Tanequil, and Straken; the nonfiction book Sometimes the Magic Works: Lessons from a Writing Life; and the novel based upon the screenplay and story by George Lucas, Star Wars® Episode I The Phantom Menace.™ His novels Running with the Demon and A Knight of the Word were selected by the Rocky Mountain News as two of the best science fiction/fantasy novels of the twentieth century. The author was a practicing attorney for many years but now writes full-time. He lives with his wife, Judine, in the Pacific Northwest.
www.shannara.com
www.terrybrooks.net
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