Bearers of the Black Staff

“Were you sent away deliberately?” Prue asked. “Or tricked into leaving?”


“No, it was nothing like that. My husband, for all he lacks in backbone and common sense, would not stoop to that.” She allowed herself a small smile. “He is not the man he was, I regret, not the man I married all those years ago before he fell under the influence of the sect. But neither is he duplicitous or cunning. Circumstances put me in another place, not Pogue Kray, although he would have been happy if I had stayed where I was. Especially since I am certain Skeal Eile suggested that no harm could come of it, that the balance of the council members would act in my stead.”

“How did you find out what was happening?” Panterra was confused. “Barely twenty-four hours passed between our return and the meeting.”

She rocked back slightly, and the smile returned. “I have friends, Panterra. Some of them are your friends, too. One, in particular. One who cares about you both. He brought me warning of what was to happen, and I came back at once.”

“Brickey,” Prue guessed.

She nodded. “You can thank him when you see him again. But that might not be right away. After we’ve finished here, you will need to pack and leave Glensk Wood.”

The boy and the girl stared at her. “Leave?” Prue repeated. “We can’t do that!”

Panterra nodded quickly. “We have to stay and convince the council of what—”

“The time for that has come and gone,” Aislinne interrupted, brushing aside his objection with a wave of her hand. “You had your chance this evening, such as it was, and you failed. It won’t get any better from here on out. Not without physical proof of what you claim. Or what Sider Ament claims, although now you’re perceived to be his agent and the message as much yours as his.”

“But that’s not …”

She held up a finger in warning, silencing him once more. “The problem confronting you is much greater than the message itself. Skeal Eile fears the message, but he fears you, as well. You have seen things that could be a threat to his power. You might continue to report what you’ve seen to others, and eventually someone might start to listen. It would be best, he’ll reason soon enough—if he hasn’t already—if you were no longer around to talk about it.”

“He would kill me?” Panterra asked incredulously, and he almost laughed at the idea.

“But that’s ridiculous!” Prue exclaimed. “He wouldn’t do that! Everyone knows Pan! They wouldn’t stand for it!”

“He won’t do it himself; he will have it done by others. It will not appear as if he had a hand in it.” She paused. “He has done this before to those by whom he felt threatened. He is a dangerous man, and you have crossed him.”

Panterra stared at her, peering through the shadows to catch the reflection of her eyes, trying to see something of the truth he could not quite accept. “Then we have to tell that to Pogue Kray or Trow Ravenlock. Others have to know.”

She smiled and shook her head. “That’s been tried. How much have you heard about its success?”

Panterra looked away, thinking, and then turned back quickly. “Wait a minute. If he eliminates his enemies, aren’t you at risk, too? Aren’t you a bigger danger to him than Prue or I?”

“If he goes after me, he will have to deal with my husband. He’s not yet willing to chance that sort of confrontation. Pogue might be under his influence, but he is not going to sit by and let me be harmed. I suspect he has made that clear already.”

She paused. “Besides, I’m not viewed as being much more reliable than Sider Ament. I’m not held in high regard. Too quick to speak my mind, not so quick to recognize my place. I am indulged by my husband, and there are few who admire his patience or his wisdom where I am concerned. But my family is old and well placed, and they protect their own. Even me.”

“Does Sider Ament know any of this?” Panterra pressed. “Is he really so ignorant of Skeal Eile’s ambitions?”

“The Gray Man has no time for such nonsense. Know this, Panterra. Sider Ament is not what he seems. You’ve already had a glimpse of that. He is a warrior, a fighter of great strength and skill. He protects us all by patrolling the valley rim and keeping watch against the things that might come through from the outside world. When he tells you that those things are coming, you should believe him. When he tells you they are here, you should not doubt. We can do nothing about those who do, those fools who think that dogma equates with truth. Sider Ament knows this, too. He can’t change what is by speaking against it. Only the sort of confrontation you experienced below the heights of Declan Reach can do that.”

“So we must run,” Panterra finished. “But where will we run to?”

“You have friends and family in other places,” she answered. “Go to them.”