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

The other grunted. “Not likely I could ever do the job as well as you. Game-playing has always been your specialty, not mine.”


Bek knelt beside them, pulling Grianne down with him. She let him place her however he wished and did nothing to acknowledge she knew he was there. Truls Rohk edged away from her.

“I’m done with this life,” Walker said. “I’ve done what I can with it, and I have to be satisfied with that. Make certain, when you return, that Kylen Elessedil honors his father’s bargain. His brother will stand with you; Ahren’s stronger than you think. He has the Elfstones now, but the Elfstones won’t make the difference. He will. Remember that. Remember as well what we made this journey for. What we have found here, what we have recovered, belongs to us.”

Truls Rohk spat. “You’re not making any sense, Druid. What are you talking about? We have nothing to show for what we’ve done! We’ve claimed nothing! The Elfstones? They weren’t ours to begin with! What of the magic we sought? What of the books that contained it?”

Walker made a dismissive gesture. “The magic contained in the books, the magic I spoke of to both Allardon Elessedil and his son, was never the reason for this voyage.”

“Then what was?” Truls Rohk was incensed. “Are we to play guessing games all night, Druid? What are we doing here? Tell us! Has this all been for nothing? Give us something to hope for! Now, while there’s still time! Because I don’t think you have much left! Look at you! You’re—”

He couldn’t make himself finish the sentence, biting off the rest of what he was going to say in bitter distaste.

“Dying?” Walker spoke the word for him. “It’s all right to say it, Truls. Dying will set me free from promises and responsibilities that have kept me in chains for longer than I care to remember. Anyway, it’s only a word.”

“You say it, then. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

Walker reached up with his good hand and took hold of the other’s cloak. To Bek’s surprise, Truls Rohk did not pull away.

“Listen to me. Before I came to this land, before I decided to undertake this voyage, I went into the Valley of Shale, to the Hadeshorn, and I summoned the shade of Allanon. I spoke with him, asking what I could expect if I chose to follow the castaway’s map. He told me that of all the goals I sought to accomplish, I would succeed in only one. For a long time, Truls, I thought that he meant I would recover the magic of the books from the Old World. I thought that was what I was supposed to do. I thought that was the purpose of this voyage. It wasn’t.”

His fingers tightened on the shape-shifter’s cloak. “I made the mistake of thinking I could shape the future in the way I sought. I was wrong. Life doesn’t permit it, not even if you are a Druid. We are given glimpses of possibilities, nothing more. The future is a map drawn in the sand, and the tide can wash it away in a moment. It is so here. All of our efforts in coming to this land, Truls, all of our sacrifices, have been for something we never once considered.”

He paused, his breathing weak and labored, the effort of speaking further too much for him.

“Then what did we come here for?” Truls Rohk asked impatiently, still angered by what he was hearing. “What, Druid?”

“For her,” Walker whispered, and pointed at Grianne.

The shape-shifter was so stunned that for a moment he could not seem to find anything to say in response. It was as if the fire had gone out of him completely.

“We came for Grianne?” Bek asked in surprise, not sure he had heard correctly.

“It will become clear to you when you are home again,” Walker whispered, his words almost inaudible, even in the deep silence of the cavern. “She is your charge, Bek. She is your responsibility now, your sister recovered as you wished she might be. Return her to the Four Lands. Do what you must, but see her home again.”

“This makes no sense at all!” Truls Rohk snapped in fury. “She is our enemy!”

“Give me your word, Bek,” Walker said, his eyes never leaving the boy.

Bek nodded. “You have it.”

Walker held his gaze a moment longer, then looked at the shape-shifter. “And you, as well, Truls. Your word.”

For a moment, Bek thought Truls Rohk wasn’t going to give it. The shape-shifter didn’t say anything, staring at the Druid in silence. Tension radiated from his dark form, yet he refused to reveal what he was thinking.

Walker’s fingers kept their death grip on the shape-shifter’s cloak. “Your word,” he whispered again. “Trust me enough to give it.”

Truls Rohk exhaled in a hiss of frustration and dismay. “All right. I give you my word.”

“Care for her as you would for each other,” the Druid continued, his eyes back on Bek. “She will not always be like this. She will recover one day. But until then, she needs looking after. She needs you to ward her from danger.”