by Terry Brooks
So for the better part of two hours, the Trolls had hidden in the gatehouse next to it, a less-than-satisfactory location given what they were now faced with doing, but one that was unlikely to be visited anytime soon. But, with the gate of choice stoutly sealed, Kermadec and his Trolls would have to breach another gate. Since the next closest gate was some distance from where they hid, there was every possibility that they would be spotted long before they reached it.
There was nothing they could do about that. The only way the Trolls were going to take Paranor was by breaching the Druid defenses from the inside. That meant seizing and holding a gate long enough for the Trolls outside the walls to get inside.
Kermadec burst through the gatehouse door. All around him, the fortress of the Druids was erupting in a frenzy of wild shouts and charging men.
“They’ve arrived,” he informed the other Trolls, putting his back to the door and facing them across the tiny, shadow-streaked room.
Atalan’s face was a mask of excitement. “Now we’ll see how strong these walls really are!” he hissed. “Let’s go!”
“Not yet.” His brother blocked his way. “Give it a moment more. Let them get to the walls and settle in place. Let them all be looking at what threatens from without so they won’t be looking at us. Then we’ll take them.”
Atalan came right up against him. “Why wait, brother? Confusion serves us better than it serves them. Delay is for cowards and weaklings. We should take them now!”
Kermadec held his ground, his gaze steady. “You are too impatient, Atalan. You rush to do everything too quickly.”
Atalan spit. “If I am too impatient, you are too cautious. You delay everything too long. Move more quickly, and we might have better success. Are we here to help the Ard Rhys or not?”
“Don’t push too hard on me,” Kermadec said softly. “And do not question my commitment to the Ard Rhys. It is not your place to do so.”
“Shhh,” Barek hissed at them. He was standing at the shuttered window, keeping watch as dozens of Gnome Hunters charged past on their way to the parapets. “You’ll be heard if you keep this up!”
The brothers faced each other a moment longer, then Atalan turned away with a shrug. “You are Maturen, Kermadec. You are leader. The responsibility for what happens here is yours. Who am I to question you?”
He slouched back to the far wall and slumped down, staring at nothing. Seething with anger and embarrassment, Kermadec turned back to the door and ignored him.
It was dark by the time Grianne and Pen began the climb into the Dragon Line. Shadows thrown by the skeletal trees and distant peaks draped the land. West, the light was fading from gray to black, and the twilight hush that marked the transition from day to night was retiring the creatures of one and bringing out the creatures of the other. Sounds faded as if swallowed beneath the surface of an endless sea, and the world became a place for the quick and the dead.
Grianne’s eyes roamed the landscape on a ceaseless scour, alert for things that might be hunting them. The boy walked quietly beside her. They had not seen Weka Dart since he had departed, but she felt certain he was close, watching their progress, ready to save them once more should the need arise. Or save himself, perhaps. She knew enough of the Ulk Bog to appreciate that whatever his good intentions, he would always look after himself first.
Still, it seemed petty of her to think of him that way after he had lured off the dragon. She wished she could form a better opinion of the Ulk Bog, but she was too familiar with how he managed to get through life to do so.
It seemed only moments later that Weka Dart appeared out of the black, materializing so suddenly that she almost struck out at him.
“Straken!” he hissed at her in a clear tone of reprimand. “You cannot continue in the dark! Too many things hunt at night, and even I cannot see them all! We must stop and wait for morning!”
She was anxious to reach their destination and get out of the Forbidding for good. But the urgency in his voice gave her pause. “Is it really so dangerous? We are almost there.”
“You are not as close as you think. This is a different pass than the one you took down. Best not to repeat your steps when Tael Riverine is looking for you. No, Grianne of the powerful magic, you must stop now. You and the boy. Rest here. Wait for dawn.”
So they did, taking shelter in a cluster of boulders that gave them protection on three sides and provided an overhang as well. They would take turns keeping watch, they agreed. When first light appeared, they would set out again. The remainder of the journey would take only a couple of hours.
Then, Grianne told herself once again, she would be free.
“Weka Dart,” she said after they had settled into the rocks. She could barely see him in the hazy darkness, a dim shadow hunched down to one side. Only his eyes gleamed, watchful and steady. “I have something to tell you.”
She heard Pen exhale in anticipation of what was coming. She ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it back from her face, wondering how to put what she must say into words, and then deciding she should just say it.
“Penderrin tells me that the darkwand will not take you out of the Forbidding. It will only take him and me. No one else.”
Weka Dart snorted. “He is mistaken. Or if not mistaken, he underestimates the power of your magic. You can find a way to take me even if the staff does not wish it.”
She sighed. “I don’t think so. This is old magic, older than I am, and more powerful. The wall of the Forbidding cannot be broken by ordinary means. That is why it was so difficult for Tael Riverine to get his demon into the Four Lands. He had to work a switch to make that happen. You told me so yourself.”
“Perhaps you can switch the Moric back again in exchange for me,” he said brightly.
His enthusiasm was frustrating. “No, I can’t. I don’t know how. I don’t even know how this staff works. It responds to Pen, not to me. What matters is that the Faerie creature who told Pen about the staff was very explicit—it cannot bring anyone out of the Forbidding but us.”
Weka Dart was on his feet in an instant, arms pinwheeling. “But you promised! You said you would take me with you if I got you out of Tael Riverine’s prisons! You said you would! Did you lie? Is it true that all Strakens lie? Even you?”
She held up her hands. “I told you that I would do what I could to help you but that I didn’t even know if I could help myself! That was what I said. It was the truth, not a lie. If Pen hadn’t come with the staff, I couldn’t escape the Forbidding, either. I would be trapped here, as well.”
“Now you won’t be, will you?” he shrieked.
“No.”
“But I will! I will!”
“Not if we can—” “You lied, you lied, you lied!”
Spitting at Penderrin, as if the situation were his fault, the Ulk Bog rushed out of the shelter, screaming invectives at both of them, and then disappeared into the night. But he was back again within minutes, trudging out of the inky black and flinging himself down where he had been sitting before. For a long time, he didn’t say anything. Grianne waited.
“Who will protect you from dragons, Grianne of the broken promises?” he whispered finally.
He said it with such sadness that it made her throat tighten in response. “There are no dragons in my world,” she answered.
“No dragons?” His head lifted from the cradle of his arms. “Well, who will protect you from the Furies, then? Or the giants, and ogres and Graumths? Who will warn you of their coming? Who will keep you from stumbling into their lairs?”
“There are no Furies, ogres, giants, or Graumths. All of those are here. They were all sent here in the time of Faerie, when the Forbidding was created.” She paused. “My world is nothing like yours, little Ulk Bog. It is a very different kind of place.”
“Are there Ulk Bogs like me?”
“No. There are no Faerie kind at all, save Elves.”
“I hate Elves,” he muttered. “Elves enslav
ed the Jarka Ruus.”
“Weka Dart,” she said quietly. “We will try to take you with us, just as I promised. I will keep my word. I just want you to know that I may not be able to break you free. I may not have the power to do that.”
He was silent a long time. “No Ulk Bogs?”
“No.”
He squirmed around in the dark, shifting positions, trying first one, then another, so restless that she thought there was something wrong with him. “Are you all right?”
“I might not come with you after all,” he said suddenly. “I might stay here. Your world sounds boring. It sounds as if there is nothing to do. I might be better off staying right where I am.”
She stared at him. “I thought you said you couldn’t do that. I thought you said Tael Riverine would kill you if you stayed.”
“He might take me back, now that Hobstull is dead.” Weka Dart’s voice was small and contemplative. “He will need a new Catcher.”
“No!” she said at once. “The Straken Lord will have you killed, Weka Dart! He will find out what you have done and that will be the end of you!”
“He might not. He might think me too valuable now.”
She wanted to shake him so hard his teeth rattled. “If this is a threat meant to get back at me for telling you the truth, for telling you what I thought you had a right to know, then it is a poor one! Don’t be such a fool! You cannot talk about going back to Tael Riverine! Going back is suicide!”
“Or maybe I will go west, where I said I wanted to go when we met.” He shrugged. “Maybe I will go to Huka Flats and find a place where I will be accepted.”
She didn’t know what to say. She wanted him to quit talking the way he was. She wanted to tell him that they would find a way to get him out of the Forbidding. She wanted him to wait until they knew for sure what was going to happen when they used the darkwand. But Weka Dart was already sifting his expectations in his mind, rethinking his life and his plans for the future, accepting better than she, perhaps, the realities.
“Don’t decide anything tonight,” she said to him. “Wait until we have a chance to test the staff. Will you do that?”
He was silent for a long time. “I will sleep on it, Straken Queen. I will give it the thought it deserves.”
“I wouldn’t ask for more than that,” she said.
“I would be a good Catcher for you. Is there was anything to catch over there? Or to protect you from? There must be something.”
“There are enemies,” she assured him. “There are always enemies.”
She watched him lie down and curl into a ball. “I will keep you safe from your enemies,” he said softly. “I will protect you.”
“I know.”
She sat staring out into the night, her thoughts dark and threatening, pushing back her weariness. She should be able to do more for him than what she believed she could. She should be able to help him. But she didn’t know where to start. She didn’t know how to do what was needed. She felt weak and impotent.
“I will be there for you,” he whispered.
Then he said nothing more.
She awoke with the dawn, the silvery tinge of its breaking a faint blush on the eastern horizon. The sky was overcast and the clouds thick and roiling across the Pashanon. A storm was building to the southwest, and there was a screen of rain where it swept eastward out of Huka Flats.
She looked around. Pen was sound asleep at her side, the darkwand cradled in his arms. Weka Dart was nowhere to be found. She took a moment to scan the countryside, but didn’t see him. Apparently, he had left early to scout the pass.
She roused Pen, and after eating the remainder of the roots Weka Dart had provided for their evening meal, they set off. She felt an urgency about doing so, a need to reach their destination quickly. She was aware of how fragile she was. Still unhealed from her experiences at the hands of Tael Riverine, her strength came mostly from the knowledge that she was close to being free of him for good. If she could escape the Forbidding, as well, she might recover herself. If she could put enough distance between herself and what had been done to her, she might be able to shore up her uncertain psyche. The memories would never leave her but, perhaps, she could take the edge off them. She was holding herself together mostly through cobbled-together bits and pieces of determination, stubbornness, and pride. She was still Ard Rhys, but to become anything like whole again, she must regain her hold on the position as well as the title.
She looked around with haunted eyes. The oppressiveness of the world of the Jarka Ruus closed about her. Another day in the Forbidding, and she could not say for certain that she would not give way to the madness that had threatened to claim her ever since her arrival. Time was growing increasingly short for her. She could listen to the sound of its passing in the beating of her heart.
They climbed steadily into the pass, frequently looking back over their shoulders to the plains, which were disappearing in the sweep of the storm. But there appeared to be no pursuit and no indication of anything dangerous coming their way.
And there was still no sign of Weka Dart.
It was nearing midday when they gained the forested heights of the Dragon Line and began to head west, toward the place where they had entered the Forbidding. The day had gone very dark as the storm clouds continued to roll eastward. The wind had picked up, and the first sprinkles of rain blew into their faces. Not wanting to be caught in the storm, they pressed on. Grianne chose their path; her sense of where she was stronger now. The boy walked silently beside her, the staff covered and out of sight.
In the distance, thunder rumbled in long, rolling peals and lightning flashed on the plains.
Then, quite unexpectedly, they emerged from the trees into a clearing, and Grianne recognized it as the place they had been searching for. She took Pen’s arm and nodded to him without speaking. The boy grinned, a disarming response that made her smile, as well. It was almost over.
She looked around for Weka Dart, but still he wasn’t there.
Pen saw the look on her face. “Where is he, Aunt Grianne? I thought he would be waiting for us.”
She took a long moment to study the trees, to peer through the gloom not only of the day but also of her own realization of what had happened.
“He isn’t coming,” she said.
The boy stared at her. “Why wouldn’t he come? Doesn’t he want to get out of here?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m not sure he knows. I think he’s afraid. Of failing to get out, if the darkwand won’t take him. Of getting out and finding it isn’t what he expects. Maybe something else altogether.”
Penderrin looked away. “I wouldn’t stay here if I were him. I would take the chance that there might be something better.”
She took a deep breath. She could use her magic to try to find the Ulk Bog. He might be close still, waiting to see if they would look for him. He might be testing her. But she knew in her heart that he wasn’t, that he was far away, that he had put her behind him. She would be someone he had known and helped, someone he could brag about. But she would be only a memory.
Would he try to go back to Tael Riverine and become his Catcher once more? Would he take the chance that the Straken Lord either did not know of his participation in her escape or would forgive him for it? With the Ulk Bog, it was impossible to tell.
Weka Dart.
She spoke his name in her mind, conjuring up images of him that she thought she would carry with her to the grave.
“We have to go,” she told Pen abruptly. “We can’t wait on him. Use the staff.”
The boy brought out the darkwand and set it butt-downward against the earth, his hands wrapped around its carved surface. The runes were glowing softly, pulsing bright red in the darkness of the midday storm.
“Place your hands with mine,” he said.
She started to do so, and then stopped. “Pen, listen to me. They will be waiting for us when we come through—Shadea a’Ru and those who
have allied themselves with her. They will have figured out where you went and be prepared for the possibility that you might get back again and bring me with you. They will know where to look for us. They will attack the moment they see us. They will try to put an end to both of us. So I want you to be ready. I want you to get behind me and stay there until you have a chance to get clear. Any chance. As soon as you see one, you are to take it. Don’t wait for me. Don’t even think about me. Just run and keep running. Do you understand?”
He nodded, but looked uncertain.
She put her hands on his shoulders. “You showed great courage in coming here to save me. I don’t know anyone else who could have done what you did, except perhaps your father. I owe it to him to do for you what you have done for me. I want you safe and sound when this business is finished, Penderrin. Tell me you will do as I have asked.”
He nodded again, more firmly this time. “I will, Aunt Grianne.”
She took her hands from his shoulders. “Are you ready?”
He took a deep breath. “I am.”
“Then let’s go home.”
She wrapped her hands on the staff and held tight.
TWENTY-EIGHT
The transition happened quickly. The runes began to glow more intensely, gaining strength from her touch. Grianne blinked against the sudden brightness, and then felt a kind of shifting in the space she occupied. The grayness of the Forbidding grew slowly darker, as if the storm had caught up to them and they were about to be engulfed. All that took place in seconds, barely giving her time enough to register what was transpiring. She glanced over at Pen, who held on to the darkwand from the other side, his eyes closed.
