by Terry Brooks
Cor d’Amphere smiled. “Considering that you and my daughter also cost me possession of Paranor and its magic and placed me in a position where a battle against a much larger army seems inevitable, I would suggest you owe me something, too. Something that is now lost to me. My daughter, by the way, has been dispatched back to Skaarsland, so you no longer have your champion in this matter. And the prospect of an alliance between us, Clizia Porse, does not seem all that attractive.”
“I do not blame you for saying so.” Clizia gave a nod of agreement, holding his gaze. Ajin d’Amphere dismissed? What a fool this man is. She smiled nevertheless. “Perhaps I can offer you a reason to change your mind, if you will hear me out.”
The king shrugged, still smiling. “Here I sit, a captive audience. Make your case, if you can.”
A challenge—something she understood and welcomed. “Let’s step back. First of all, Paranor is not lost to you. It has been brought back out of concealment and sits right where it was for centuries. It can be yours again, if you can bring yourself to trust me to get it for you. But be warned. Only I have the means to gain the access that will allow you and your Skaar soldiers, in turn, to enter after me.”
She did not bother telling him about Drisker Arc or his means of access, preferring to leave that for another time. For now, the king need only know that something he wanted was there for the taking if he would grant her permission to present it to him.
“What is it that allows you entry and no one else?” he asked.
“Ancient magic wards Paranor. A very powerful magic. This is what destroyed the Skaar who captured it the first time. There is a defender of the Keep, a living presence with no other purpose than to keep out all intruders in order to protect the Druids. But if those who seek entry are invited in by one of the Druids, then entry may be gained through subterfuge. That is what happened with your daughter and her Skaar soldiers. Once the Druids were slain, however, the Keep’s magic struck out at those who had proven themselves false.”
“And you, as the Druid responsible for inviting my daughter and her soldiers inside, could not prevent this?”
“My lord, I was unable to act quickly enough. At least one of the Druids summoned the magic before dying, causing it to emerge and attack the invaders. Once set free, there is no stopping it until the Keep is secured again. But understand something. The magic has withdrawn, and the Keep is yours for the taking. I can arrange it for you.”
The Skaar king folded his hands together and laid them on the table, his eyes still fixed on her face. “And your price for doing this is an alliance with the Skaar? Why would I want that? Why would you?”
“Why wouldn’t I? The Skaar are a force to be reckoned with, my lord. Even I recognize that much. Once you find a home in the Four Lands, you will dominate the other governments and tribes. I hope you might consider offering me a share of that power if I can prove myself worthy. And I can give you access to more than just Paranor. I can give you access to places and things you otherwise might never know about. An alliance between us makes perfect sense.”
She paused. “Let me prove my value. Give me twenty-five of your soldiers to go back into Paranor and claim it for the Skaar. I promise you I can do this. I can clear the way for you, and you can make whatever use of the Keep you choose. And the likelihood of the other governments challenging you if you have control of Paranor will be considerably reduced.”
He shook his head, frowning. “I still don’t quite see what you gain from all this. How does giving Paranor to me help you?”
“Simple. It gives me power. If you are my ally, no one is going to interfere with my own plans. Look at me. My life is almost over. I just want to make use of what’s left of it.”
“But you would agree to stay out of my way and not do anything to threaten the Skaar if I left you alone?”
“Give me just what I asked for.” She was more insistent now, more confident she could assert herself. “Twenty-five men, and I claim Paranor in your name. A simple test of my value, one that will provide you with a strong reason for us to form an alliance.”
The king nodded slowly. “All right, I’ll give you those men and grant you your chance to prove your worth. But I will need an extra day before you can have them. Tomorrow, I must meet in conference with the Prime Minister of the Federation to see if we might come to some sort of agreement that will end our standoff and allow both of us to go about our business. If that goes poorly, I might not be able to grant your request; all my soldiers might be needed here with me. Come back the day after tomorrow and ask me again. With any luck, your men will be waiting and you will be on your way back to Paranor.”
Cor d’Amphere rose, indicating that Clizia’s time was up and her visit was over. She rose with him, making sure he saw how shaky and frail she was, giving him a further demonstration of why he need not fear her.
It was always a good idea to let others underestimate you.
* * *
—
It was deep into the predawn hours when Darcon Leah kicked out the embers of the small fire they had used to warm themselves, scattering the burning brands and coals into puddles of rainwater and melted snow that hissed and steamed at the unwanted intrusion. By then the storm had diminished to a slow mix of sleet and drizzle, the winds had died away almost completely, and in the skies overhead the clouds had begun to break up sufficiently that glimpses of the moon and stars could be had. Telling Tarsha and Ajin that it was time for them to go—that they needed to get back to meet with Drisker after he returned from the Valley of Shale—he had set them on the path to where their own airship had been left.
Ajin was understandably reluctant to go with them. She was a member of the Skaar nation—their princess and leader of their advance force until being banished by her father—so she thought it better that she simply go her own way and said so. But Dar wouldn’t hear of it.
“You’re alone and on foot in country you know nothing about,” he pointed out. “You are miles from anything even resembling civilization and would have to walk for days to find shelter. It doesn’t matter that you are who you are. I wouldn’t leave my worst enemy in these circumstances. I want you with us until we find a safer place than this one.”
He made it almost an order, but stopped just short because he knew how she responded to being pushed. Instead he made it a plea to an equal. And he did see her as that, even if he had been the one to suggest the idea back at Paranor when he had held her at sword point. With Ajin, reason and deference were always better employed than threats or attempts at intimidation.
And Ajin, to his surprise, had simply shrugged and come along with no further argument. Her legs seemed strong enough now to allow her to make the trek; the damage they had sustained from being pinned had been healed by Tarsha’s use of the wishsong. Ajin limped only a little when they started out, and even that was gone within a mile. She had no trouble keeping up with Tarsha and himself, although she held herself apart and silent for almost the entire way.
The sole exception came when they were perhaps a mile from the airship and Dar had fallen back to see how she was managing, leaving Tarsha to lead the way. He asked her if she was experiencing any difficulty walking, and she shook her head.
Then she said, just as he was about to move ahead again, “You might not believe this, but I knew it was you the moment I saw you appear with the girl.”
“You might have thought it was me, but you couldn’t be sure,” he replied. “You couldn’t see my face. You could barely make out anything in that storm.”
“Doesn’t matter what I could see. I just knew. I think it was because, since we first crossed paths all those weeks ago and I watched you fighting to save those Druids and then found you hanging on that cliff face, I sensed there was something special about you. Don’t laugh at me. I knew we were going to meet again, and that it would happen soon. I knew fate
would bring us back together.”
He looked at her directly. “That’s nonsense.”
“Is it? Do you believe that? Are so many unplanned meetings between us in such a short time simply random?”
He made no response, shaking his head in a dismissive way and moving ahead again to join Tarsha. But inwardly he was wondering if there wasn’t something to what she was saying. How many times had they unexpectedly encountered each other? How many times had this reoccurred under circumstances where it seemed at least strange? On this night, it seemed impossible that of all the likely rescuers she would find to extricate her from the wreckage of her airship, he would be the one. It gave him further pause when he remembered that his instincts had warned him something was wrong and brought him back out of the Valley of Shale and down into the foothills in time to spy her airship falling out of the sky.
The chances of this happening—more so than any of the other unexpected encounters—made him wonder. Even if he didn’t think it was anything more than coincidence, and she was still an enemy of the Four Lands.
But he wouldn’t tell her any of this. What was the point? She would believe what she chose, and he would leave her to it.
When they reached the airship, it was undamaged and still where they had left it, concealed in a mix of trees and boulders. Dar thought about going back into the valley to find the others, but decided against it when he realized he would have to take Ajin with him if he was to keep watch on her, and she might not have enough strength left for another forced march. Leaving Tarsha alone to watch her was too dangerous, even if he didn’t think she intended to run.
And really, if she did, why should it make any difference to him? But somehow it did, and he had learned a long time ago that instincts meant something when they nudged your conscience and demanded attention.
So the three settled down inside the aircraft to wait for the others to return, wrapped in somewhat less damp heavy-weather cloaks and dry blankets salvaged from the storage bins, staring out at the diminishing banks of clouds and a wash of emerging stars that had turned the countryside silver. Ajin and Tarsha, sitting close together behind him, talked in low voices, and Dar could not hear what they were saying. But there was no mistaking that it was intimate and personal. In spite of the circumstances, there was something between them that hadn’t been there earlier. A sharing of some sort. A closeness, maybe.
He wanted to tell Tarsha to be careful of the Skaar princess, but then decided it wasn’t necessary. Tarsha knew that already. And he did not think Ajin would do anything to cause trouble after willingly accompanying them. She might choose to escape later, if she began to think of herself as a prisoner, but not until she felt it made good sense. For the moment, she would wait to see what happened. She would stay with Dar.
He felt a twinge of discomfort. He found himself questioning why he could embrace the idea.
It was two more hours before Drisker returned with Brecon Elessedil and Tavo Kaynin in tow, all of them looking more than a little weary and diminished. He might have been mistaken in his further assessment of the Druid, but it seemed to him there was a discernible uneasiness about Drisker that was troubling. He was lost in thought, his attention somewhere else entirely as he arrived, barely acknowledging them until he caught sight of Ajin.
“You’ve picked up a stray,” he observed, giving Dar a questioning look.
“Ajin d’Amphere, princess of the Skaar nation and leader of the advance force come into the Four Lands,” the Blade informed him, and then added, “until recently.”
Ajin stood, facing the Druid squarely but saying nothing.
“She said she was relieved of command and sent home yesterday under apparently unpleasant circumstances. She promised to tell us how all this happened.” Dar gave the princess a deferential nod. “Princess, if you intend to keep your word and do not find it a betrayal, this would be a good time to do so.”
He spoke in a soft, nonthreatening way and made it seem more an entreaty than an order. Ajin smiled in recognition of his deliberate consideration. There was something in the way she looked at him in that moment that he would never forget. It reached beyond all of his doubts and suspicions—everything he knew to be true about how impossible it would be for them ever to form a friendship—and instead made him feel something that could only be described as unexpected intimacy.
Then she began to tell her story, and the moment disappeared.
TWELVE
AT THE CLOSE OF Ajin’s recitation, the entire company had curled up in the cramped passenger compartment of an aircraft entirely too small to provide space for all of them and slept for several hours. Drisker hadn’t revealed anything at that point about what had happened at the Hadeshorn, and no one felt the need to know until after they’d had a chance to rest. Their closeness inside the airship cockpit produced a much-needed warmth that helped keep the cold at bay. Dar Leah fell asleep almost instantly, stretched out in the pilot seat with his head cradled in the crook of his arm, the others finding places elsewhere in the passenger and storage areas behind him.
At that point, he was alone.
But when he woke, he found Ajin d’Amphere curled up beside him, pressed close against his back, one arm draped possessively about his waist. Sometime during the morning, she had abandoned her former space and come forward to share his. He was surprised this hadn’t woken him, that he hadn’t sensed her fitting herself next to him. He lay there for a few moments in guilty pleasure, actually enjoying the warmth generated by her body pressed up against his, though still confused by his own willingness to accept it. It made him wonder again if there was something to her claim that they shared a special connection.
Then slowly he extricated himself and climbed out of the aircraft to walk a short distance to a hilltop, where he could reflect on what might be happening between himself and the Skaar princess.
Later, when the others were awake and had eaten, Drisker called them together to discuss his experience at the Hadeshorn. But while the others gathered quickly, Ajin hung back, clearly aware she was not one of them and unsure of what to do.
The Druid beckoned her over when he recognized her reluctance. “Princess,” he said. “Come join us. There is no reason you should not hear what I have to say. You might even find you have something to offer—perhaps something you can do to help. Even banished, there might still be chances for you to plead our cause to your father.”
Ajin nodded silently and moved forward to position herself close to Dar. He gave her a brief smile. She was obviously less sure of herself since her father had stripped her of her authority and dismissed her from his service. He was still wondering what the man could have been thinking.
Drisker turned to the others. “I was able to summon a Druid to speak with me about what is needed to settle the conflict between the Four Lands and the Skaar, and what can be done to blunt the continuing threat of Clizia Porse. As I expected, I did not get a direct answer. There was considerable back and forth, but in the end I was able to determine the first step we need to take.”
“Was it Allanon you spoke with?” Dar asked.
“No.” The Druid glanced at him and looked away again. “What matters is that there is someone we need to find in order to discover more: a boy who calls himself Shea Ohmsford. Tarsha and I have both met him before. At the time, we were searching for an assassin’s guild in the city of Varfleet. The boy was able to act as our guide. I was told he was the key to discovering how to put things right in the Four Lands.”
“Will he tell us what that something is?” Brecon Elessedil asked, the doubt in his voice apparent. “This boy?”
Drisker shook his head. “I’m not sure. The one who spoke to me would say nothing more. But it was clear that we need to find Shea Ohmsford.”
“And you don’t think this spirit’s advice is a deception of some sort?” the Elven prince pres
sed. “It feels wrong to me.”
“It feels typical,” the Druid corrected. “According to the Druid Histories, this is how the shades of the dead communicate. But even when I first met him, I sensed something special about this boy. He was not the Shea Ohmsford of legend, it’s true. He does not have the use of magic; he does not even know the history of his own name or understand its importance. But he is nonetheless the key to our success.”
Tarsha Kaynin said nothing. No acknowledgment of Drisker’s decision, no word of agreement with the Druid’s obvious faith in the boy. And that made Dar wonder.
“So we are to fly to Varfleet?” he asked the Druid.
“I don’t think we can depend on finding Shea where we left him a few weeks ago. I think we have to use the Elfstones to discover where he is now. We don’t have time to go hunting blindly. We need to know his exact location before setting out again.”
“One moment,” Ajin d’Amphere said suddenly, and everyone turned. “What do you intend to do with me while you’re off hunting for this boy?”
“That is something of a problem,” the Druid admitted. “You will not be welcomed anywhere in the Four Lands should folks discover who you are.” He paused. “Though I must admit, that seems unlikely. Of the few who know your true face, most are already in this group. But if you like, we could return you to your father.”