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

With Ryer still clinging to him, he knelt and put his mouth to her ear. “Listen to me,” he whispered.

She went still, then nodded slowly. “We have to try to find the others—Bek and Tamis and Quentin. But we have to be very quiet. The Mwellrets and the Ilse Witch will be hunting us. At least, that’s what we have to assume. We can’t afford to let them catch us. We have to get out of these ruins and into the cover of the trees. Quickly. Can you help me?”

“We shouldn’t have left him,” she replied so softly he could barely make out the words. Her fingers tightened on his arms. “We should have stayed.”

“No, Ryer,” he said. “He told us to go. He told us there was nothing else we could do for him. He told us to find the others. Remember?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. We should have stayed. He was dying.”

“If we fail to do what he asked of us, if we allow ourselves to be captured or killed, we will have failed him. That makes his dying an even bigger waste.” His voice was low, but fierce. “That isn’t what he expects of us. That isn’t why he sent us away.”

“I betrayed him.” She sobbed.

“We all betrayed each other at some point on this voyage.” He forced her head out from his shoulder and lifted her chin so that she was looking at him. “He isn’t dying because of anything we did or failed to do. He is dying because he chose to give up his life to destroy Antrax. He made that choice.”

He took a deep breath to calm himself. “Listen to me. We serve him best now by honoring his last wishes. I don’t know what he intended for us, what he thought would happen now that he is gone. I don’t know what we’ve accomplished. But there’s nothing more we can do for him beyond getting ourselves out of here and back to the Four Lands.”

Her pale, drawn face tightened at the harshness of his words, then crumpled like old parchment. “I cannot survive without him, Ahren. I don’t want to.”

The Elven Prince reached out impulsively and stroked her fine hair. “He said he would see you again. He promised. Maybe you should give him the chance to keep that promise.” He paused, then bent forward and kissed her forehead. “You say you can’t survive without him. If it makes any difference, I don’t think I can survive without you. I wouldn’t have gotten this far if it hadn’t been for you. Don’t abandon me now.”

He rested his cheek against her temple and held her, waiting for a response. It was a long time coming, but at last she lifted away and placed her small hands against his cheeks.

“All right,” she said quietly. She gave him a small, sad smile. “I won’t.”

They rose and walked out of the shadow of the black tower and into the maze, then back through the ruins. They kept to the shadows and did not hurry, stopping frequently to listen for sounds that would warn them of danger. Ahren led, holding Ryer Ord Star’s hand, the link between them oddly empowering. He had not lied when he told her he still needed her. Despite his recovery of the Elfstones and his successful battle against the creepers, he did not yet feel confident about himself. He had passed out of boyhood, but he was still inexperienced and callow. There were lessons still to be learned, and some of them would be hard. He did not want to face them alone. Having Ryer there to face them with him gave him a confidence he could not entirely explain but knew better than to ignore.

Yet he thought he understood at least a part of it. What he felt for the girl was close to love. It had grown slowly, and he was only just beginning to recognize it for what it was. He was not certain how it would resolve itself or even if it would survive another day. But in a world of turmoil and uncertainty, of monsters and terrible danger, it was reassuring to have her close, to be able to ask her advice, just to touch her hand. He drew strength from her that was both powerful and mysterious—not in the way of magic, but in the way of spirit. Maybe it was as simple as not being entirely alone, of having another person with whom to share whatever happened. But maybe, too, it was as mystical as life and death.

They walked a long time through the ruins without hearing or seeing anything or anyone. They moved in a southerly direction, back the way they had come, toward the bay in which the Jerle Shannara had once anchored. She was in the hands of the Ilse Witch now, of course—unless things had changed, which was possible. Things changed quickly in this land. Things changed without warning. Maybe this time they would change in a way that would favor Walker’s company rather than the Witch’s.

Suddenly Ryer Ord Star drew up short, her slim body rigid and trembling. Ahren turned back to her at once. She was staring into space, into some place he could not see, and her face reflected such dismay that he found himself quickly scanning his surroundings to find its cause.