The Last Druid

by Terry Brooks

  Once he was satisfied with his efforts, he spit on the clay and stepped back, watching as it flared and burned with a fiery incandescence. Within seconds, the locking mechanism was completely melted away and the lock freed. Dar pulled the door open slowly, attempting to avoid any sound. He was mostly successful. They stepped inside quickly and pulled it shut behind them.

  “No one about,” Dar whispered, looking around in the gloom.

  Brecon nodded, indicating the way forward. There was an odd brightness emanating from the ceiling, almost a witch light, and it provided just enough illumination for them to see. They started ahead, moving cautiously, listening for any sound, watching for any movement. Even though it seemed apparent there was nothing hiding, they took no chances. Dar had to fight to hold himself back, desperately worried for Ajin, afraid that any delay would mean they would arrive too late to help her. But he had been in situations like this before and was experienced enough to know not to rush.

  They came to the cellar door and found it was locked, too. Dar never hesitated. With a quick look over to his friend, he put more of the clay on the locking mechanism, spit on it, and stepped back. Once more, the clay flared and the metal melted away. Dar tightened his grip on his blade as it did so, then grasped the handles, pulled the door open, and rushed through, with Brecon a step behind.

  The cage and its prisoners could be seen where the vision from the Elfstones had said it would be, with Ajin and her mother crouched within. Both looked up instantly, startled by the sudden intrusion. Their rescuers were already charging down the steps, rushing to get to them, when Ajin came to her feet and rushed over to the bars, her face drawn and worn, but bright with relief.

  But Brecon had realized what Dar had not, and he reached out to slow his friend. “Where are the wolf-men?”

  Indeed, they had disappeared. Of all those creatures they had seen in the vision, not one remained in view. Dar slowed in response to Brecon’s question, searching the shadows, the corners, the walls. No wolf-men. Something was wrong. A trap? How could it be? No one knew they were coming. This was something else.

  Then his eyes met Ajin’s, and everything else was forgotten. Her smile was brilliant.

  She reached through the bars to take his hands. “I knew you would come!”

  “I should have come sooner. I’ve been worried for days, but I just kept thinking how you insisted on doing this alone and I didn’t want to interfere.” He took in the sunken cheeks and disheveled clothing. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

  She shook her head. “Not hurt. Just hungry and thirsty. I’m also angry and embarrassed that I let this happen.” She turned to the older woman. “This is my mother, Dar. Orestiana d’Amphere.”

  “So, you did find her.” He gave a nod and a smile in the former queen’s direction. Ajin’s mother looked as if she could barely hold her head up, but she smiled back.

  “We stopped eating and drinking a few days ago,” Ajin continued, pressing against the bars of the cage. “We had to. My father traded my mother for a witch. She made the creatures that guard us—by feeding them a potion that turns them from humans into these hybrid monsters. She threatened to do it to us. She said she would put the potion in our food and drink, and we would never know when it would happen. So we quit taking anything she offered.” Her face darkened. “I will make sure she takes something when I find her again!”

  “She made those wolf-creatures?” Brecon asked in disbelief.

  Ajin sighed, her exhaustion apparent. “Can you get us out of here?”

  Dar drew out what remained of the clay, peeled off a hunk, and pressed it against the lock on the cell door, working it into the keyhole. “Where is she, anyway? And what happened to those wolf-things? We saw them when we were using the Elfstones to find you, but now they’ve disappeared.”

  “Dar,” Brecon said quietly from behind.

  The Blade ignored him, spit on the clay, and watched it seethe, flare up, and melt the lock. “That should do it.”

  “Dar,” Brecon repeated a little more loudly.

  The highlander was tugging at the door, dragging it open. “In a minute.”

  Ajin had gone back for her mother and was helping her to her feet. Orestiana d’Amphere was pale and drawn, but game. She tottered toward the cell door, and with every step her strength appeared to return.

  “Young man,” she greeted Dar as she reached him. She took his hand in hers. “I am forever in your debt. My daughter had faith in you, and it was well placed.”

  Dar turned away, embarrassed, and looked back at Brecon, who was standing much closer than before. “She’s worn down, Brec. We have to…”

  He trailed off. There were wolf-men all around them. They had come out of the darkness from who knew where and were closing on the prisoners and their rescuers. Their eyes burned a deep gold and their bodies were huge and muscled beneath leathery hide. They began to snarl and growl, revealing rows of teeth and long pink tongues.

  Brecon’s sword was already drawn.

  “They look hungry,” Dar replied. “What do you suggest?”

  “This was your idea. You suggest something!”

  The Sword of Leah was still sheathed. “Get back inside the cage.”

  “What?” the Elf exclaimed in disbelief.

  “I’m finished with that cage!” Ajin snapped.

  “Look at how many there are,” Dar pointed out, his eyes shifting from one wolf-man to the next as he stepped inside the cage. Their advance had slowed, but he knew it wouldn’t stop. “There’re too many for us to break past all of them—especially with Ajin’s mother to consider. But inside the cage we have a chance. If they break through, only one of them can come through the opening at a time. There isn’t space for more. Two of us can hold them off.”

  “Three,” Ajin corrected, having already moved her mother safely back before snatching Dar’s long knife from his belt. “This is my fight, too.”

  Brecon glanced around, then quickly followed them into the cage. Dar closed the barred door and used several blocks of his clay to fuse it in place, melting its iron frame into the doorjamb. No one spoke because no one wanted to think about where this was all leading. Sooner or later, the wolf-men would break through. Sooner or later, the door would give way. They might stop most of their attackers, but it was unlikely they would stop them all.

  Dar drew out the Sword of Leah and placed himself squarely in front of the cell door bars. He wished now he had thought earlier of a way to summon help from the airship. But help would never reach them in time anyway.

  The monsters surrounded the cage, reaching their arms inside to grasp at the prisoners. Dar gave them a moment, then struck out. Two arms fell away, severed. Another creature staggered back, mortally wounded by a quick lunge from Brecon. Ajin stayed back, waiting for her chance, keeping one eye on her mother. “We had better think of something else if we ever want to get out of here.”

  There was no hint of levity in her voice, no indication of bravado. She knew how serious their situation was. They were all going to die here, one way or another, if they could not get past the wolf-men.

  “Try using the Elfstones,” Dar suggested to Brecon.

  The Elven prince sheathed his sword and retrieved the blue stones. Holding them out, he willed them to throw back their assailants, to break apart the ring that encircled them. The Elfstones flared, their blue light blinding in the near darkness, causing a handful of the wolf-men to shield their eyes and fall back, but nothing further happened. Which meant, Dar knew at once, that whatever the beast-men were, they were not capable of using magic.

  “Can the stones do anything else?” Ajin asked quickly. She took a quick slice at a beast’s extended arm and the arm withdrew swiftly, a gash opening near the wrist.

  Brecon shook his head, shoving the stones back in his pocket and taking up his sword once
more. Assailants and defenders shifted warily, feinting with lunges and withdrawing swiftly, each side seeking to gain an advantage.

  “What is this?” a voice called out sharply.

  Dar peered into the gloom. A shadowy figure had appeared and was moving toward them. A quick gesture of one slender arm and the wolf-men gave way obediently. It was a woman who approached, a tight expression on her face. She was small and slight and plain-looking—nothing special about her, nothing threatening. Save for the clothing she wore, she did not appear to be anyone important. But Dar knew at once who she was.

  As if things couldn’t get any worse.

  She came right up to them. “I see you have visitors, Princess. But visitors aren’t allowed. You know that.” A smile appeared. “Those are the rules, I’m afraid. Now they will have to share your unhappy circumstances. I hope they brought their own food and water. But if not, I have some of both for them. Oh, but what’s this? The door into your cage is stuck, isn’t it? How did that happen? But never mind. What’s stuck can be unstuck.”

  She spoke to the creatures about her, and several disappeared back into the gloom. When they were gone, she looked again at Ajin. “What were you trying to do, summon help? There is no help to be found. There is only the help that I offer. Why don’t you end this nonsense?”

  “Why don’t you step inside this cage, Agathien, and I will!”

  “So bitter. Why do you persist in this refusal to accept your fate? I think perhaps it is time we put a stop to your pointless acts of defiance. Once my wolf-men are inside the cage, I will have them hold you all down and feed you the potion I mentioned, the one that will make you more compliant. You and your mother and your friends. Then you will belong to me, and things will be exactly how they were meant to be.”

  Dar was measuring the distance to where she stood, trying to decide if he could throw a knife through the bars with enough accuracy and force to dispatch her. He didn’t think so. The hand that had strayed to the blade he kept strapped to the small of his back moved away. It was too risky. He would only get one chance, and he couldn’t afford to waste it.

  Agathien d’Amphere was looking at him. “I might decide to keep you around for a while,” she said. “I can easily imagine the fun you and I could have. Fun you’ve already had with Ajin, perhaps? Well, it would be better with me. And if not, I have different potions to help. One takes away your will to resist. Another takes all your memories. You would do whatever I asked of you and find nothing wrong with doing so. Sound interesting?”

  Her wolf-men returned with long iron pry bars, which they fitted in place to free up the door that Dar had fused. Two other creatures had found spears, clearly intended to keep the prisoners back from the cell entry while their fellows rushed inside.

  “I think, after this is done, I will dispatch your father, too, Princess. He troubles me with his foolish wars and constant absences. I would be a better queen if I were rid of him.” She glanced at the wolf-men with the iron bars. “Break it open.”

  The pry bars went to work, and the metal at the fused points began to groan and crack. In moments, the wolf-men would be inside. Agathien d’Amphere had stepped back to watch, too far back now for Dar to use the knife. He had missed whatever small chance he might have had.

  Their end seemed inevitable.

  But Dar, admittedly grasping at straws as he frantically tried to come up with a plan, had a sudden thought. It seemed so wild at first he discounted it, but then he wondered if just maybe…

  He turned to Brecon. “Take out the Elfstones,” he said quietly.

  “What?” Brecon shook his head in confusion. “But the magic doesn’t work on these creatures.”

  “Maybe it does. Just don’t use it to attack them. Use it to project images of who they once were.”

  “What are you talking about? I don’t know who they once were, so how can I summon the magic to reveal it? And why would I? What good would it do?”

  His voice was verging on desperation, and the Blade grabbed hold of him and pulled him close.

  “Brecon, just listen. Closely. What if you imagine men and women standing out there, instead of monsters? They were human once; that’s all that matters. So don’t worry about specifics. Just imagine their general look and the Elfstones might do the rest. Let the magic reveal who they used to be. Let it show them what has been stolen from them. Let’s give them a good look at what they’ve lost.”

  Brecon quickly saw what Dar was trying to do and extracted the Elfstones and held them out, summoning their magic. At the entry of the cage, the door was giving way. Dar moved over to block the way in, the Sword of Leah held ready. If his gamble using the Elfstones failed, the wolf-creatures would be inside and on top of them.

  He felt Ajin move up beside him. He saw the glint of her long knife in the pale light of the single torch. “I love you,” he whispered.

  “I know,” she replied.

  “This might be beyond me,” Brecon called out from behind them. “I can’t seem to make the Elfstones do anything! I can’t feel any…”

  Then abruptly the magic exploded through the cage bars and filled the darkness. Shaggy heads jerked in surprise, and hungry yellow eyes blinked and widened. Then the wolf-men fell back in shock.

  An array of men and women confronted them, features slowly sharpening. Mewling and whining filled the darkness, recognition reflected in the eyes of those watching. Memories returned with shocking suddenness, and the horrified wolf-creatures stretched out their arms to embrace the people before them. But their arms passed through the visions uselessly and could not capture what they sought. To further emphasize what had been done to them, Brecon altered the vision ever so slightly, to portray the moments when their individual transformations had taken place. And in each one, Agathien d’Amphere was present, reveling in the changes she had visited on them, celebrating the damage she had wrought.

  The wolf-men went mad, leaping and shrieking in recognition, lost in a mix of horror, rage, and desperate need. For a moment, Dar was certain they were going to vent their frustration on the four trapped within the cage, but then he realized he was mistaken. It was toward the pretender they chose to turn, remembering that she was to blame for what had happened to them. As their eyes fixed on her and she realized what they intended, she turned and raced for the stairs leading up from the cellar.

  But flight was pointless; her wolf-men were far too quick. They caught her before she was halfway there and took her down. In seconds, her screams ceased, and her body was reduced to scraps of flesh and bone.

  Dar pushed Ajin through the partially open cage door, motioning for Brecon to follow, whispering to the Elf to keep the images in place. Then he went back and swept Orestiana d’Amphere into his arms and carried her out to join the other two. They crossed to the stairway at a cautious but steady pace, trying not to look at what remained of the pretender. Her pets were already beginning to eat bits and pieces of her off the floor, and to lick up her blood.

  Ajin, to Dar’s surprise, gagged and quickly looked away.

  In minutes, they were up the stairs and into the corridor that had brought them inside. Dar fused the cellar door and then, once they were down the hallway and back outside, the huge metal-clads as well. The sealing of the doors might not hold the wolf-men prisoner for long, but it would slow them down enough for Ajin to send soldiers to end their unfortunate lives.

  Already, in spite of the hour, a crowd was gathering, drawn by the sounds of the struggle within the warehouse. Shouts and cries began to sound at the sight of Ajin and her mother—voices of people who recognized the princess and welcomed her return. Apparently no word of her exile had reached the home city as yet. Apparently no report of her father’s dismissal had come, either. To those gathered, Ajin d’Amphere, princess of the Skaar nation, was officially home.

  Dar realized the implications immediat
ely. Once a few announcements were made and soldiers still loyal to the princess assembled, she would be able to assume control of the city. Her popularity at home had not diminished, and her presence was a reassurance to the people in this deepest of winters. Ajin brought hope and the promise of something better to come.

  Dar hoped they were right.

  THIRTY-SIX

  The weather was worsening. Huge banks of darkening clouds were building against the horizon to the north, their masses roiling and fusing like waves on a windblown ocean. Where before there had been glimpses of light from the seldom-seen sun far above the clouds’ hazy ceiling, now there was an absence of everything but the faintest illumination south. The wind had gusted from gentle or even brisk to a point where it could only be called harsh—its bite bitter and freezing with sharp gusts that now and then threatened to knock the crew members over.

  Yet still they worked, determined to finish so that the contents mixed in the belly of Annabelle could be launched and sent skyward to change the destiny of a ruined world. No time remained; the readings both Tindall and Rocan had taken earlier were in agreement as to what was coming: They were in for a storm of unusual proportions and indeterminate length. If a test was to be made, it must happen now or wait another five to seven days.

  Shea Ohmsford stood to one side as the Rover crew worked under the direction of Rocan and the old man. The boy had wrapped himself in his heaviest cloak, having added a neck scarf and gloves and tied his hood tightly in place. Even so, he was freezing in the face of the wind’s bitterness. It had stopped snowing for a while, but now the snow returned and the world disappeared in a thick blanket of white flakes. Banks of it were forming against the railings and deck walls, pinned in place by the unrelenting wind. A coating of white frost had formed on the northernmost surfaces of the masts and hull, giving the Behemoth the look of a ghost ship.