Ilse Witch

He reached out and pressed the third key into Bek’s hand, closing the boy’s fingers over it. “Take this to the Druid. He should be grateful he did not have to retrieve it himself—grateful enough to give up the truth he wrongfully imprisons. Trust begets trust, boy. Ward yourself carefully until that trust is shared. Keep secret what you have learned this night. Pay heed to what I say.”


Then he vanished, sliding away so swiftly and suddenly that he was gone almost before the boy realized he was going. Bek stared into the quivering grasses through which Truls Rohk had vanished, speechless, aghast. Moments later, he watched a shadow lift off the plains and slide upward along one of the airship’s anchor lines before disappearing over the side.

The Jerle Shannara hung etched against the departing night by the first p1ale glimmerings of dawn as Bek waited for a glimpse of something more. When nothing came, he rose wearily and began his walk back.

TWENTY-FIVE





“You disobeyed me, Bek,” the Druid said quietly, his voice so chilly the boy could feel the ice in it. “You were told not to leave the ship at night, and you did so anyway.”

They were alone in Redden Alt Mer’s cabin, where as many as nine of the company had gathered comfortably on more than one occasion during their voyage, but where on this morning it felt as if the Druid was taking up all the space and Bek was in danger of being crushed.

“The order I gave extended to everyone, yourself included. It was very clear. No one was to leave the ship without my permission. And particularly not to go into the castle.”

Bek stood frozen in front of the Druid, his hand outstretched, the third key held forth. Of all the possible reactions he had anticipated, this was not among them. He had expected to be chastised for his impetuous behavior, certainly. He had expected to be lectured on the importance of following orders. But all of his imagined scenarios ended with Walker expressing his gratitude to the boy for having gained possession of the key. There would be no need for another day of scavenging through the ruins and risking the safety of the ship’s company. There would be no more delays. With the third key in hand, they could proceed to their final destination and the treasure that waited there.

Bek saw no hint of gratitude in the Druid’s eyes as he stood before him now.

It had not occurred to him until he was back aboard ship that his plan to hand the key over to Walker in front of the other members of the ship’s company so that he could bask in the glow of their praise and be recognized at last as an equal would not work. If he gave the key to Walker in public, he would have to explain how he obtained it. That meant telling everyone about Truls Rohk, which Walker would certainly not appreciate, or about his own magic, which the shape-shifter had warned him not to do. He would have to present the key to the Druid in private and be satisfied with knowing that at least the ship’s leader appreciated his value to the expedition.

But it didn’t look just now as if appreciation was high on Walker’s list of responses. He hadn’t even bothered to ask how Bek had obtained the key. The moment he saw it, held out to him just as it was now, he had gone black with anger.

He took the key from Bek’s hand, his dark eyes heavy on the boy, hard and piercing. Overhead, the members of the ship’s company were preparing for another day’s search, not yet advised that it would not be necessary to go ashore again. The sound of their movements across the decking rumbled through the cabin’s silence, another world away from what was happening here.

“I’m sorry,” Bek managed finally, his arm dropping back to his side. “I didn’t think that—”

“Truls Rohk put you up to this, didn’t he?” Walker interrupted, new fury clouding his angry features. Bek nodded. “Tell me about it, then. Tell me everything that happened.”

To his own astonishment, Bek did not do so. He told Walker almost everything. He told him how the shape-shifter had come to him and urged him to go with him into the ca1stle ruins and bring out the key. He told him how Truls Rohk insisted they were alike and repeated the other’s strange story of his birth and parentage. He related their approach and entry into the castle, their discovery of the key, and their escape. But he left out everything about the magic the shape-shifter claimed Bek possessed. He made no mention of the way in which his voice seemed to generate this magic. He kept his discovery to himself, deciding almost without meaning to that this was not the time to broach the subject.

Walker seemed satisfied with his explanation, and some of the fire went out of his eyes and the ice out of his voice when he spoke again. “Truls Rohk knows better than to involve you in this. He knows better than to risk your life needlessly. He is impetuous and unpredictable, so his actions should not surprise me. But you have to use better judgment in these situations, Bek. You can’t let yourself be led around by the nose. What if something had happened to you?”