THE VOYAGE OF THE JERLE SHANNARA : Morgawr (BOOK THREE)

“You were right,” Grianne said softly, her slight body rigid within her robes. “He knows we’re here.”


The others of the company were settled in below, hiding within the hull and pontoons of the Jerle Shannara, waiting to see what would happen. Alt Mer knew of Bek’s fears, but he could do nothing about them. The Jerle Shannara could not fly if they did not put up her masts and sails, and the noise alone of doing so would give them away. Even if the Morgawr tried to search the ruins, there was reason to think he would not find them, that the magic of the spirit dweller would refuse him entry and lead him back outside without his even realizing it, just as it had done to Walker. But that was a huge gamble; if it failed, they were trapped and outnumbered. Escape would be impossible unless they could overcome their enemies through means that at this point were a mystery.

Bek did not feel good about their chances. He did not believe that the Morgawr would be fooled by the magic of the spirit creature. Everything suggested otherwise. The warlock had tracked them this far without being able to see them and with no visible trail to follow. He seemed to know that they were hiding in the ruins. If he could determine all that, he would be quick enough to realize what the spirit dweller was doing to him when he tried to penetrate the ruins and would probably have a way to counteract it.

If that happened, they would have to face him.

He glanced at Grianne. She had never answered Rue’s question about what she intended to do to stop the Morgawr. In fact, his sister had said almost nothing past greeting those to whom she was introduced. She had not asked them if they had forgiven her, as she had asked Rue. She had not apologized for what she had done to them and to those they had lost. All of the softness and vulnerability that she had evidenced on waking from her sleep was gone. She had reverted to the personality of the Ilse Witch, cold and distant and devoid of emotion, keeping her thoughts to herself, the people she encountered at bay.

It worried Bek, but he understood it, too. She was protecting herself in the only way she could, by closing off the emotions that would otherwise destroy her. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel anything or that she no longer believed that she must account for the wrongs she had committed. But if she gave them too much consideration, if she gave her past too great a hold over her present, she would be unable to function. She had survived for many years through strength of will and rigid control. She had kept her emotions hidden. Last night, she had discovered that she could not let go of those defenses too quickly. She was still his sister, but she could not turn away from being the Ilse Witch either.

She was walking a fine line between sanity and madness, between staying out in the light of the real world and fleeing back into the hiding place she had only just managed to escape.

“We have to decide what we’re going to do if he comes into the ruins and finds us,” Bek said quietly.

“He is only one man,” Rue said. “None of the others have his magic to protect them. The rets can be killed. I’ve killed them myself.”

She sounded so fierce when she said it that Bek turned to look at her in spite of himself. But when he saw the look on her face he could not bring himself to say anything back.

Grianne had no such problem. “What you say is true, but the Morgawr is more powerful than any of you or even all of you put together. He is not a man; he is not even human. He is a creature who has kept himself alive a thousand years through use of dark magic. He knows a hundred ways to kill with barely a thought.”

“He taught you all of them, I expect,” Rue said without looking at her.

The words had no visible effect on Grianne, though Bek flinched. “What can we do to stop him?” he asked, looking to avoid the confrontation he could feel building.

“Nothing,” his sister answered. She turned now to face them both. “This isn’t your fight. It never was. Rue was right in asking me what I intended to do about the Morgawr. He is my responsibility. I am the one who must face him.”

“You can’t do that,” Bek said at once. “Not alone.”

“Alone is best. Distractions will only jeopardize my chances of defeating him. Anyone whom I care about is a distraction he will take advantage of. Alone, I can do what is necessary. The Morgawr is powerful, but I am his match. I always have been.”

Bek shook his head angrily. “Once, maybe. But you were the Ilse Witch then.”

“I am the Ilse Witch still, Bek.” She gave him a quick, sad smile. “You just don’t see me that way.”