by Terry Brooks
She found Kassen Drue waiting patiently on the wooden bench, hands folded in his lap, gaze fixed on the far wall. He rose as soon as she entered the antechamber. “Come with me,” she told him.
She nodded to Eskrit, too, and the three of them left the antechamber and walked out into a courtyard and proceeded to the building where the examinations were conducted on the ground floor. The day was warm and pleasant, and Allis took a moment to enjoy the feel of the sunshine on her face before they entered the examination section of the building and went down the hallway until they were just outside the room Clizia had designated. They took seats on the benches they found waiting, but these were cushioned and the corridor was bright and open, windows letting in the light and the warmth of the day. Kassen sat where Allis indicated, and she took a seat next to him.
They were quiet for a few moments, neither speaking. Kassen was studying her openly, and she found herself looking back. There was something compelling about him, something beyond his physical attractiveness and poise that drew her to him. Eskrit stood to one side, looking out at the day beyond, at the courtyard and the outer walls of the Keep, a statue.
“Have you been a member of the order for long?” Kassen asked.
“I am not a member. I am a Druid-in-Training. I will be examined shortly to see if my studies have progressed far enough to warrant further consideration of my status.”
“We would be classmates, would we not?” he asked. “If I were admitted as a student?”
“We would be.”
“Then I will make it a point to ask you now if you would show me around a bit in these early days, so that I might have someone I know to school me on what’s what.”
No hesitation in asking, no suggestion that he might not be admitted. She found it presumptuous but not irrational. The way he spoke made it sound more inevitable than anything.
“You seem awfully confident.”
“Do I? I suppose it’s just how I look at challenges. Everything can be overcome if you try hard enough.”
She nodded. “I agree with you. Well, if you are admitted I would be happy to act as your guide.”
They went silent again after that and remained so for quite some time until finally Clizia Porse and two other Druids whose names Allis could not remember entered the room and took a seat behind a table at one end. Then in came Ober Balronen, with Dar Leah trailing behind him as usual, his black sword strapped across his back.
But she had no opportunity to learn anything more. Clizia caught her attention and made a dismissive motion. Allis rose and left the room feeling highly disappointed she had not been allowed to remain.
—
“Come forward,” Clizia Porse said to the stranger
Dar Leah watched as the stranger rose to his feet in response and stood before the table, executing a bow in Clizia’s direction. “Kassen, my lady. At your service.”
The old lady seemed unimpressed. “Are you ready to begin with your examination, Kassen?”
“Ready, my lady.”
The audience was intense and probing, question after question from the panel of four Druids in this small, secluded room. It was not exactly an interrogation, but it was close enough. Dar, positioning himself as always behind Balronen, found the process measured and thorough.
As the examination continued, Dar couldn’t help but feel, after a time, it had gone on for too long. But, likely at Balronen’s insistence, it was Clizia who was driving it—he did relish his little power games, and would have been attracted by the idea of being a silent observer manipulating events. The other two Druids were junior to Clizia in tenure and unlikely to interfere. Kassen seemed unfazed, answering everything fully, staying calm and patient and uncomplaining. He seemed entirely comfortable with the questions he was asked and provided the panel with what appeared to be sufficient information to satisfy their doubts.
Then, at last, Clizia asked him to provide a demonstration of his magic.
“A small example of what you think you can do,” she suggested. “Let’s have a look at your talent.”
“I will do my best,” Kassen answered with a friendly smile.
The Druids watched him closely, waiting for the promised demonstration, but Kassen just stood there. His interrogators grew restless and began glancing at one another. “Are you ready yet?” one of the others asked finally.
“Of course,” he answered. “In fact, I’m finished.”
There was a momentary silence. “But you haven’t done anything,” Balronen burst out.
Dar felt a twinge of doubt. The man hadn’t done anything, in fact. Did he not have any use of magic after all?
“That’s only how it seems,” Kassen replied.
“You haven’t moved a muscle,” Clizia pointed out.
“Haven’t I?” he said from behind them, even though he appeared to be right in front of them.
They whirled about in shock, finding that, without them seeing how he had managed it, he had moved from where he had been standing to the wall behind them. But a clear and indistinguishable image of him remained where he had been a moment earlier, and was just now fading.
The questions came quickly then, but Kassen deflected them and only asked if they believed him sufficiently talented that he might be worthy of admission into the Druid order for further training.
Dar knew the answer before the words were spoken. Kassen Drue would be admitted.
—
Allis found Kassen later that same day standing on the walls of the Keep, staring off into the forest beyond. He no longer wore the black robes with the cowl raised, as he had on his arrival, but was garbed in the gray robes of all Druids-in-Training with the cowl lowered and his face revealed. She approached him slowly, admiring his chiseled features, stayed from speaking to him by his contemplative look. It was as if he saw something in the trees that was hidden from her. As if his mind were somewhere else entirely.
“You seem deep in thought,” she said finally, coming closer.
He turned at once to greet her. “Not so deep. Daydreams, mostly, Allis.”
He remembered her name, which pleased her. She was not immune to flattery, even though friendships of this sort were discouraged. Druids-in-Training were supposed to be occupied with their studies, not with infatuations about one another. But she genuinely liked him and didn’t mind letting it show. Although she had not asked for it, she had been delighted when Clizia had assigned her the task of showing him around the Keep and explaining how his studies would be conducted. After all, he was a stranger in a strange land, come from far away, and he would need friends to guide him in his new life.
Allis was more than willing to make herself available to help with that.
Engaged in her Druid studies for a year prior to his arrival, she’d had more than sufficient time to discover most of what there was to know about the intricacies of the Druid order and its functions. If Kassen had such a question, she could answer it.
“This seems such a large complex,” he told her as she walked him to his living quarters. He had spoken barely a dozen words to her until then, content to let her offer what information she was willing to impart without pressure from him. “I’m afraid I will get lost if I don’t have directions.”
She looked at him. “How about a guided tour then?”
“From you? That would be very much appreciated.”
It was better than she could have expected. She watched him unpack and deposit his few belongings and his spare student’s robes, then she took him through Paranor’s maze from one end to the other—anywhere and everywhere either of them was permitted to go. She explained what the rooms were used for and the reasons that certain places were off-limits. As she did so, he listened attentively and asked questions at almost every turn, seemingly determined to learn early on everything there was to know about Paranor. She answered willingly, pleased by the persistence of his curiosity and his obvious interest.
Afterward, they went to the dinin
g hall to eat lunch together; there she introduced him to some of her fellow Druids-in-Training, and then the tour resumed. After two more hours, she had taken him everywhere and told him everything she could think of. She brought him back to the walls of the Keep where she had found him earlier.
Together, they leaned against the wall and looked off into the trees once more. “I feel better able to begin my studies now,” he told her. “Thank you so much for helping me.”
She smiled. “I am to help you in whatever way you require,” she told him, and then realized belatedly how that sounded and blushed.
For long moments after that neither spoke, and she grew worried she had overstepped herself.
“Have you a need for company or shall I go?” she asked.
“Stay,” he said at once. “Your company is welcome. You know that.”
“I hoped for it, at least. I was afraid I was boring you.”
His smile was warm and knowing. “I doubt you could ever bore me. Your knowledge of Paranor and its Druids is impressive.”
She glanced over. “Adequate, at least. There are others here who know much more than I do.” She paused. “Would you like to walk the walls?”
He hesitated. “You know where I would like to walk? On a beautiful day like this I would most like a walk in the woods. I miss the birdsong and the smell of wildflowers. Do you think we could go out together?”
She cocked an eyebrow. His blue eyes were bright and laughing as she pursed her lips. She found herself wanting to kiss him. She was wondering what it would feel like. “I have that privilege,” she said, “since I am a senior student. I will share it with you. It would be my great pleasure.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were walking through the gates and into the forest. He let her choose their path, his own sense of direction clearly limited by his unfamiliarity with his surroundings. As they walked, Allis remarked on the talent he had displayed in his examination. Few possessed such abilities when they’d first come to the Keep, and she believed he had a bright future within the order. She had overheard the examiners talking about it when they didn’t realize she was listening. They admired him and approved of him, and she was eager for him to know how important that was. But it seemed to make him uncomfortable to listen to her go on like this, and he repeatedly reminded her of how far he still had to go. So eventually she quit talking about it, and the two simply walked in companionable silence.
When they finally returned to the Keep, he took her hand in his and bent to kiss it. “It has been a delightful first day for me,” he told her. “Thanks to you.”
They would spend many more days and much time together in the weeks ahead, but she would always remember how she felt at the end of that first day. How much she liked and admired Kassen. How excited she was for the future.
It seemed a good beginning.
NINE
On the same morning Kassen arrived at Paranor, Drisker Arc was sitting on his cottage porch, looking out at the surrounding trees very much the way he looked out at them almost every morning. He had brewed a pot of tea and was drinking a cup as he let the minutes pass and the sun crest the horizon. He had until midday, a sufficient amount of time to allow Tarsha to do what she wanted before he set out, and he felt no particular urge to rush things. As talented as she was, she still needed whatever edge he could give her to answer this latest challenge.
He repeated the words silently.
As talented as she is…
Who would have thought it? He had encountered some adept magic wielders in his time. A few he had believed might be his betters although it had turned out they were not. But Tarsha Kaynin was on another level entirely, so generously endowed with wishsong magic that he doubted any other member of the Ohmsford family—save perhaps the legendary High Druid Grianne, who eventually fell victim to her own magic—had been so naturally gifted. Tarsha was a prodigy, a girl who was already mature in most ways and whose lack of understanding and command of her magic was her sole weakness. Much of what she needed to know and what she needed to learn was still a mystery to her. That would have to change, but time and practice and study would accomplish that. What mattered was that her ability to intuit and grasp concepts was prodigious, and eventually she would come to understand everything he did.
He had wondered at first if she was up to the task he had set her. But her journey to find him had been long and difficult, and the fact that she had found him at all revealed much about her determination.
Once it had been settled that she would become his student and he her tutor, it only remained to set a rigorous course of study.
“How do you think she is doing out there?” he asked the air and what hid within it. He couldn’t see hide nor hair of him at the moment, but most certainly he was there.
He sipped from his cup and leaned back in his rocker and breathed the forest air. Hard to match that woodsy smell, he thought. You could taste it like sweet spices. Best air in all the Four Lands and beyond. Clean and pure and so sharp it tickled the senses.
“She’s doing well enough, I imagine,” he answered his own question, resisting the urge to cast about. “Not much that girl can’t do.”
His method for teaching her was straightforward enough. Mostly, it began and ended with the two of them talking. He would explain the nature of an aspect of her magic, and she would question him. He would answer her questions, and she would ask a few more. She was quick enough to know what to ask, sharp enough to realize what she was missing. He would open the doors of knowledge a crack and wait for her to consider what was being revealed. She would see its hidden depths and want to know how far back they stretched.
In between all the talk, all the questions and answers, all the dialogue about metes and bounds, stresses and strains, and mostly limitations to be paid attention to, he would give her tasks to accomplish. No point in keeping a young girl chained to a desk with an old man who rattled on when what she really craved was experience. Or in her case, challenges. She was not one to hold back, content with what she already knew. She was always pressing, trying to figure out how far she could take things, how much of what she didn’t know and hadn’t tried she could master. He gave her enough rope to fail, pleased each time when she didn’t, content to assure her it was only for the moment when she did.
“But oh, she does have talent!” he whispered, the sound of his words a hiss of approval.
“What are you muttering about, chil’haen russ’hai?” a voice asked sharply.
The speaker was only a few feet away, so close it was troubling to Drisker that he hadn’t heard his approach. He had been so preoccupied with the girl and her magic that he had dropped his guard. Not a good thing when you were a discredited Druid.
“What does it matter?” Drisker asked, turning to meet the speaker’s gaze.
The forest imp was rough-featured and sour-mouthed, and his face was crisscrossed by deeply etched lines. He was very old, but he would never give his age. His shoulders were hunched and his posture stooped. His large hands were gnarled, and the staff he carried was split by time and weather. Long gray hair bristled in a crown about his bald head, as if desperate to escape the fate of its fellows, and the mustache above his downturned mouth drooped well below his prominent chin. Everything about him whispered of time’s passage.
“A bad habit, Druid. One day, it will be your undoing. You will address the air in a rash and reckless manner and something hiding in it will appear to put you six feet under.”
“I think you might get there first, old dog. Tea?”
“Tea? For the love of haist, would you poison me? Has it come to that? Naught but ale shall pass these lips! Have you none?”
He slouched forward and mounted the porch, choosing a seat on a bench to one side. Drisker swiveled his rocker around to face him, then rose and went into his home to fetch the imp his ale. When he returned, he found the imp had moved over to sit in his rocker.
“I do not mean to impose. But I assumed y
ou would want to provide me with seating offering the greatest amount of comfort since I am such an old dog.” He reached for the ale.
Drisker handed it to him and sat on the bench, smiling in spite of himself. “What, then, brings Flinc the Wise to my humble abode? And don’t tell me it’s to drink my ale or enjoy my company. There might be more to this visit, I think.”
“Could be, could be,” the other replied. He drank deeply of the ale before setting it down beside him. This was something of a chore since his arms were not very long and the floor of the porch was rather far down from where he sat. Drisker rose and brought a small table to set beside him. “My thanks,” the other said quickly. “Although I could have managed.”
“Indeed,” the Druid agreed. “So?”
“So what?”
“So what brings you here?”
“A change in the winds, russ’hai. A shift in the autumn breezes. Something’s coming for you, and it isn’t something good.”
Drisker nodded slowly. The forest imp was prescient, able to sense things that would happen, capable of discerning if they were good or bad. It wasn’t an exact skill and was susceptible to misinterpretation. But not often when it came to Flinc. Flinc had much better control over it than most forest imps, and his foresight and willingness to share it had saved Drisker on more than one occasion since the Druid had made Emberen his home.
For there were those who would never be satisfied until Drisker Arc was dead and buried. It was the sort of hatred that transcended reason or the passage of time. His enemies had been justly earned, but never with malice and never with any intent other than to stop them from hurting others and damaging relationships among the Races. Still, they had not forgotten him just because he was no longer High Druid and gone from Paranor. Now and then they sought him out, each time for the same reason and each time with the same result. Now their bones moldered deep in the woods and their voices were quieted.
“Perhaps I should send the girl away,” he mused. “She’s awfully young to stand against anything like that.”
