by Terry Brooks
She thought again about how he had fought for the lives of the two Druids on the grasslands west of the Charnals when the Skaar had attacked them. Coming over the side of his warship so swiftly and charging to their rescue. Throwing himself into a battle that he must have known he could not win and still managing to save his female companion. Nearly escaping with her into the mountains with flying skills that matched her own, downing two of her airships and very nearly downing hers, as well.
It excited her all over again, just thinking about it, and she found herself smiling, in spite of the circumstances. Then her smile vanished, washed away by her realization of the darker realities. Yes, the Keep and its Druids were gone, but she had planned to make a present of the building and its treasures to her father, and now that was impossible. Most of her advance force—perhaps all, Kol’Dre included—was likely dead, destroyed by the creature that lived in the greenish mist. It was a hard, painful reward for all of their efforts, and she could only hope that it provided an example to the people of the Four Lands, showing them what the Skaar were prepared to do in order to make a home here.
She circled the perimeter of the grounds on which Paranor had rested, unwilling to step again onto that treacherous soil without a very good reason. She trudged through the darkness, searching for Skaar survivors, but found no one. In the surrounding forests, the birds and animals had begun to communicate again as they went about their lives with the coming of morning. Insects buzzed her heated face, and in the sky the diminished moon hung low against the horizon while the stars were beginning to fade again in the lightening sky. Morning was less than an hour away.
She had wandered along the perimeter of perhaps half of the Keep’s barren grounds when she found the ragged little band of survivors and felt a small leap of joy. Even better, there was Kol, standing off by himself, staring at nothing. When the cries of the others alerted him to her presence and he turned and saw her, he raced for her, folding her in his arms with such happiness that she felt compelled to give him silent permission to touch her in familiar fashion this once.
“I thought you were dead!” he whispered, crushing her against him. “That was what they said. But I knew. I knew it wasn’t so!”
“Yes, but it will be if you don’t let me breathe soon,” she complained.
He released her at once and stepped back. “Forgive me…”
“For what?” She gripped his arms to hold him in place. “For being glad to see me alive? For letting your usual cold and tightly wound emotions get the better of you?” She reached up to touch his cheek. “My brave Kol.”
Without pausing to measure his reaction, she released him and walked over to the other men. She took each by the hand, praising him for his courage and determination, congratulating him on escaping a dangerous trap and living to celebrate the victory they had achieved over the Druids and their magic. The men nodded wordlessly or offered muted words of thanks, simultaneously embarrassed and proud, hauling their battered bodies upright long enough to face her and be recognized. She knew they loved her—worshipped her in some instances. She knew their loyalty was unquestionable. She spoke to each of them by name. Her soldiers had all been with her a long time, and before she was finished she found herself weeping for all the ones who were no longer there.
As she was finishing, she caught sight of Kol watching her from one side, his expression one of lingering disbelief and joy. As if he was making sure she was real and not a ghost. A complex man, Kol’Dre. In looks, he was unexceptional—of medium height, with a dark complexion and brown hair and eyes where most Skaar were tall and fair-skinned with blue eyes and blond hair. He was also not one to stand in the ranks and engage in hand-to-hand combat as she did. He was not a believer in the value of honor and glory, of proving courage through battles, of risking all for the sake of companions and country. He thought himself above all that—a shade more clever, a twist more intelligent. But this did not mean he was a timid man or a coward; he was a formidable opponent when he needed to be. He had killed other men without compunction—and some of them for her. But he was not fashioned in the traditional Skaar mold, and he was aware that it set him apart. To a very great extent, it was what defined him.
Which was what made him so valuable to her. A Penetrator must be a chameleon, able to think independently from those around him while remaining in the background, an unremarkable presence. He must have sharp eyes and quick wits and a good memory. He must be bold but not reckless.
She could go on, but all that mattered was how well Kol’Dre had served her in this capacity and how closely their fortunes were tied. Again and again, the two of them had led the way for the Skaar nation as they expanded their empire into Eurodia, claiming country after country for their king. Even if her upbringing had required more of her than his had of him, and even if he longed to bed and perhaps one day to wed her, he did not let this interfere with the job he had been given to do.
“Come,” she called to him, beckoning him over to join the others. “We need two stretchers and four pairs of hands to carry Fer’Pas and Anan’Lor back to the airship. The rest of the advance force will need to be told what’s happened before we set out again. Kol, set our brave soldiers to their tasks.”
And Kol’Dre, his hopes renewed, jumped to obey.
THREE
Dar Leah stood in a dappled landscape of shadows and moonlight and watched Ajin d’Amphere walk away. On the one hand, he knew it was foolish for him to allow her to leave. She was the commander of a foreign incursion into the Four Lands—the leader of a force that had defeated two different Troll tribes and destroyed virtually the entire Fourth Druid Order. She was a large part of the reason Paranor had been sent from the Four Lands into a limbo existence, trapping Drisker Arc—the last honorable Druid—inside. Yet now he had set her free to return to what remained of her army and continue on with her plans for the Four Lands, whatever they happened to be.
On the other hand, what was he supposed to do with her if he didn’t let her go?
His most urgent need was to find and retrieve Drisker Arc from within Paranor and get him back into the Four Lands to help deal with both the Skaar invasion and Clizia Porse, and there was little Ajin d’Amphere could do to help with this. She would be a distraction and a burden if he tried to keep her a prisoner. He would have to lock her up somewhere and find someone to keep an eye on her, since it was obvious he could hardly haul her along with him. Nor did he think she was a bargaining chip with the Skaar; she was probably right about how they would react if he tried to make her one. It didn’t take much to realize he was a little short of choices, and his immediate efforts to help Drisker were what really mattered, even though he knew she was dangerous, an enemy of the Four Lands who would eventually come looking for him again.
Besides, he also knew she was right about his obligation to her. She was owed her freedom. She had done as much for him, giving him back his life when she could have snuffed it out. She talked about honor and courage as if they were a moral code she believed in, and from what he had seen of her actions, it appeared she did. He wasn’t entirely comfortable admitting it, but he found that he admired her.
Maybe even more than admired her.
He watched her until she was out of sight, then continued watching for a few minutes more, trying to understand his behavior. When you felt closer to a young woman who had just killed virtually every last Druid you had sworn to protect than you did to the Druids themselves, it suggested you had your priorities mixed up. Or maybe your sense of loyalty. But he didn’t think so. The truth was that, in retrospect, he really did admire her more than he had admired most of them.
He shook his head at himself, still lost in his thoughts, until he remembered what he was supposed to be doing. Ajin had said she would not alert any other Skaar survivors to his presence, but standing around to find out if she meant it did not seem wise. With a last glance at the em
pty ground where Paranor had stood not two hours ago, he sheathed his sword, turned around, and walked away.
His plans for helping Drisker were already forming in his head.
If things had been different, he would have sought out Clizia Porse. But having watched her dispatch the Keep to parts unknown, presumably knowing Drisker was still inside, he was pretty sure she was unlikely to help. Drisker had not trusted her, and in the end his doubts had proved well founded. It was clear enough that Clizia had betrayed him and had plans of her own regarding the Druid order, if there was ever to be another, along with any future return of Paranor. How she would manage all this he had no idea. Nor did it matter just now.
What he needed to know was this. How was he supposed to get Drisker Arc back into the Four Lands when, save for the Sword of Leah, he did not have any magic to call upon? He could only think of one person who might help, and that was Tarsha. She wasn’t yet a Druid, but she was a Druid’s student. She had studied under Drisker and she had powerful magic of her own, as heir to the iconic wishsong that had served so many Druid allies in the past—including members of his own family. If anyone could find a way to help Drisker, it would be her.
But first he had to find out where she was.
He knew where she was going; she had told him that much. But whether she was already there, still on her way, or finished and headed back to Emberen was unclear. At least as things stood just now.
So things would have to change.
He reached Drisker’s little two-man and climbed aboard, powering up the diapson crystals and opening the parse tubes. He wasted no time giving further thought to his decision. Time was something he did not have to waste, and he had a long flight ahead.
* * *
—
As Dar Leah departed, dawn was beginning to brighten the edges of the eastern horizon from behind the jagged peaks of the Dragon’s Teeth, and Ajin d’Amphere was standing watch over Kol’Dre and the five other surviving soldiers from the one hundred who had gone into the Keep. She had ordered them to move north from the battleground and deep into the woods where they would be hidden from view before she’d let them sleep. When they woke, she would dispatch the strongest of them to find the aquaswift they had flown in on and bring it back. It was much farther away than she would have liked, kept well away from Druid eyes on their arrival so there was no chance of it being seen.
For now, they all needed rest. But for her, sleep would not come, so she had risen and gone off to sit by herself.
Her thoughts should have been full of what to do next, with virtually the whole of the attack force she had brought to Paranor destroyed, but instead all she could think of was Dar Leah. She was well and truly smitten. She would not deny it—could not, in point of fact, do so honestly. She was attracted to him as she had not been attracted to another man. Ever. She had experienced her share of crushes and lovers, but they had come and gone, leaving virtually no impression. Yet in their three brief encounters, Dar had imprinted himself on her heart—despite the inescapable truth that they were more enemies than friends. It was stranger than strange, but it was exciting, too.
Dar Leah was everything she admired in a man, and she intended to have him, one way or another.
She was not so foolish as to think she could make this happen now. There were too many uncertainties and unexpected turns waiting ahead, and no amount of preparation would ever be sufficient. At the end of the day, she and Dar Leah were on opposite sides of a conflict that threatened to engulf the whole of the Four Lands. Time and circumstance would have to change that, but she was fully convinced it could happen. This was the nature of fate. She just had to be patient. She had to trust that she would be given her chances and that when she was, she would respond in the best way possible.
But whatever future there was for the Blade and herself, it waited somewhere down the road, and for now she had other concerns she must deal with. With the Druids dead and Paranor lost, she needed to redefine her goals for the Four Lands. The size of her original command of one thousand soldiers was reduced, but still sufficient for her to act.
Nevertheless, the first thing she had to do upon rejoining those she had left behind in the primary camp farther north was to convince them, down to the last soldier, that what had happened to the others not only had not been her fault but also had not been preventable. If they believed she had acted recklessly in attacking Paranor directly, she would lose control of her soldiers. She would lose their trust and their belief in her.
And that would be the end of everything.
She would return home in disgrace—a failure her quick-to-judge father might well use to determine she was both useless and expendable.
But her thoughts of such possibilities quickly faded as Kol’Dre joined her moments later, coming up silently and sitting beside her without speaking. Because she was used to having him close at hand and ready to offer advice in situations where she would never have suffered the presence of others, she let him stay.
Long minutes passed in silence, then she looked over at him and waited until he was looking back. “You needn’t sit with me, Kol’Dre,” she said. “I am well enough by myself.”
His smile was wan. “I will leave if you wish, Princess.”
She shook her head. “I don’t wish it. You are welcome to stay. But you must call me by my given name. We are alone now.”
“As you wish, Ajin.”
His face was comforting in its familiarity. Calm and introspective, a reassurance. She had thought now and again about accepting him as more than her Penetrator and sometime confidant. She could hardly avoid it, given their proximity during their travels. But she could never quite make herself believe this was a good idea. She sensed that if she took that extra step, it would change their relationship, and she didn’t want that. Besides, she valued him for his advice and his loyalty, not for his potential as a bedmate. However he saw things, she did not see a future between them that would allow for more.
“We’ve lost everything,” she said after a few further moments of silence. “Paranor, its magic, the Druids, and our ability to use it all to bargain with. We’ve let it slip through our fingers by being inattentive and complacent. I should have done more to secure it. I should have been better prepared for a punitive response.”
Kol’Dre shook his head. “What could you have done? How could you have foretold any of it? There was no way to prepare for what happened—no way to stop that thing from coming out and destroying us. We were helpless against it.”
“That is a poor excuse. I am to blame. I overreached.”
“It could be argued that way,” he agreed. “But those who do not dare do not achieve. You took a chance, and you almost succeeded. Your father will be proud of you.”
She snorted. “My father will skin me alive.”
“You destroyed the entire Druid order, Ajin!” He was leaning close, his face intense. “You eliminated the single most dangerous threat to our success in claiming these lands. No one else has the strength or means to stand against us, and I should know. I’ve spent two years among these people. With the Druids gone, there is no other power that can prevent us from taking what we want—not even the Elves. And the Four Lands are too divided to unite as they should.”
She felt herself go calm. He was right, of course. She had done what he claimed, and half a loaf was always better than none. She only needed to find a way to reimagine a Skaar victory in the aftermath of these events. She only needed to find a new path for achieving what her people expected.
“You have to let go of your guilt,” Kol added a moment later.
She smiled. It would surprise you, Kol’Dre, to know what else I probably have to let go of, she thought. But that information is for me alone.
“I know,” she said instead.
He heard something in the tone of her voice and lowered his gaz
e deferentially, as if he knew he had overstepped. She fought back a surge of satisfaction. “Come now. We have more pressing concerns to occupy our attention.”
“Do you have a plan for addressing those concerns?” he asked.
She gave him a brief nod. “I’m working on it.”
* * *
—
They said nothing to each other for a time afterward. Kol’Dre wanted to pursue the matter, but he knew it was better to just let her be. She was looking off into the morning, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. He had noticed it before when he came over to sit with her. She didn’t look particularly troubled by whatever was drawing her attention. Rather, she looked almost pensive. An air of calm infused her countenance, defined her posture, and layered her gestures. She might be displeased with other things—the loss of Paranor, the deaths of almost one hundred of her best soldiers—but something besides these seemingly pressing concerns was preoccupying her.
“Where will we go once we leave here?” he said finally.
“What?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“You didn’t. I was simply thinking about something else.”
Indeed. “I asked where you think we would go after we leave Paranor.”
She stared at him as if she didn’t understand. “We return to the advance force and go on.”
“Go on where?”
A flicker of irritation lit in her eyes. “Why don’t you tell me, Penetrator? What would your advice be? Where would you have me go?”
“I think it would be unwise to turn back.”
“Agreed. The Skaar do not retreat.”
“So we go forward, as you said. Perhaps through one of the passes south and out onto the banks of the Mermidon, and see what sort of response we get?”
“That is what you would do? What you would have us do? Advance and wait to see what happens?”
