Indomitable: The Epilogue to The Wishsong of Shannara

Which was why he was somewhat confused by Kimber’s grandfather’s insistence on summoning him now. Whatever the nature of the danger presented by the threat of an Ildatch reborn, he was the least well-equipped member of the family to deal with it. He was also doubtful of the man making the selection, having seen enough of the wild-eyed and unpredictable Cogline to know that he wasn’t always rowing with all his oars in the water. Kimber might have confidence in him, but that didn’t mean Jair should.

An even bigger concern was the old man’s assertion that somehow the Ildatch hadn’t been completely destroyed when Brin had gone to such lengths to make certain that it was. She had used her magic to burn it to ashes, the whole tome, each and every page. So how could it have survived in any form? How could Brin have been mistaken about something so crucial?

He knew that he wasn’t going to find out unless he went with Kimber to see the old man and hear him out, but it was a long journey to Hearthstone, which lay deep in the Eastland, a draining commitment of time and energy. Especially if it turned out that the old man was mistaken.

So he asked his questions, hoping to learn something helpful, waiting for a revelation. But soon he had asked the old ones more times than was necessary and had run out of new ones.

“I know you think Grandfather is not altogether coherent about some things,” Kimber said. “You know as much even from the short amount of time you spent with him two years ago, so I don’t have to pretend. I know he can be difficult and unsteady. But I also know that he sees things other men don’t, that he has resources denied to them. I can read a trail and track it, but he can read signs on the air itself. He can make things out of compounds and powders that no one else has known how to make since the destruction of the Old World. He’s more than he seems.”

“So you believe that I should go, that there’s a chance he might be right about the Ildatch?” Jair leaned forward again, his meal forgotten. “Tell me the truth, Kimber.”

“I think you would be wise to pay attention to what he has to say.” Her face was calm, but her eyes troubled. “I have my own doubts about Grandfather, but I saw the way he was when he told me to come find you. It wasn’t something done on a whim. It was done after a great deal of thought. He would have come himself, but I wouldn’t let him. He is too old and frail. Since I wouldn’t let him make the journey, I had to make it myself. I guess that says something about how I view the matter.”

She looked down at her food and pushed it away. “Let’s clean up, and then we can sit outside.”

They carried off the dishes, washed them, and put them away, and then went out onto the porch and sat together on a wooden bench that looked off toward the southwest. The night was warm and filled with smells of jasmine and evergreen, and somewhere off in the darkness a stream trickled. They sat without speaking for a while, listening to the silvery sound of the water. An owl flew by, its dark shape momentarily silhouetted by moonlight. From down in the village came the faint sound of laughter.

“It seems like a long time since we were at Graymark,” she said quietly. “A long time since everything that happened two years ago.”

Jair nodded, remembering. “I’ve thought often about you and your grandfather. I wondered how you were. I don’t know why I worried, though. You were fine before Brin and Rone found you. You’ve probably been fine since. Do you still have the moor cat?”

“Whisper? Yes. He keeps us both safe from the things we can’t keep safe from on our own.” She paused. “But maybe we aren’t as fine as you think, Jair. Things change. Both Grandfather and I are older. He needs me more; I need him less. Whisper goes away more often and comes back less frequently. The country is growing up around us. It isn’t as wild as it once was. There is a Dwarven village not five miles away and Gnome tribes migrate from the Wolfsktaag to the Ravenshorn and back again all the time.” She shrugged. “It isn’t the same.”

“What will you do when your grandfather is gone?”

She laughed softly. “That might never happen. He might live forever.” She sighed, gesturing vaguely with one slender hand. “Sometimes, I think about moving away from Hearthstone, of living somewhere else. I admit I want to see something of the larger world.”

“Would you come down into the Borderlands, maybe?” He looked over at her. “Would you come live here? You might like it.”

She nodded. “I might.”

She didn’t say anything else, so he went back to looking into the darkness, thinking it over. He would like having her here. He liked talking to her. He guessed that over time they might turn out to be good friends.