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

Ahren glanced over at Ryer Ord Star. She was on her feet, as well, still alone and still not looking at him. She stood with her arms wrapped about her slender body, looking frail and tiny. Something was going on with her that he didn’t understand, and she wasn’t doing anything to let him know what it was.

A clutch of Mwellrets strode into the clearing. Two of the burliest held the ends of chains that were fastened to a collar strapped about the neck of one of the most terrifying creatures Ahren had ever seen. The creature tugged and twisted against the collar like a huge dog, grunts and growls emanating from deep within its throat as it did so. Its body was hunched over and heavily muscled. Four human limbs that ended in clawed fingers and massive shoulders were covered in thick black hair. Its torso was so long and sinuous that it allowed the creature to almost double back on itself as it twisted about angrily, trying to bite at the chains. Its head was wolfish, its jaws huge, and its teeth long and dark. It had the look of something bred not just to hunt, but to destroy.

When it saw Ahren, it lunged for him, and the Elf pressed back against the building wall in fear.

A tall, black-cloaked figure stepped forward, blocking the creature’s path. The beast cringed and backed away.

The cloaked figure turned and looked at him. Ahren could just make out the other’s face. It might have been human once, but now it was covered with gray scales like the rets, flat and expressionless, its green eyes compressed into narrow slits that regarded him with such coldness that he forgot all about the wolf creature.

“Cree Bega,” the cloaked figure called, still watching Ahren.

The Mwellret who had been standing guard over him came at once. Big as he was, he looked small next to the newcomer. Even so, he did not do anything to acknowledge the other’s authority, neither bowing nor nodding. He simply stood there, his gaze level and fixed.

“Cree Bega,” the other repeated, and this time there was a hint of menace in his voice. “Why is this Elf still alive?”

“He iss an Elesssedil. He hass the power to ssummon the magic of the Elfsstoness.”

“You have seen this for yourself?”

Cree Bega shook his head. “But the sseer tellss me thiss iss sso.”

Ahren felt as if the ground had dropped away beneath him. He glanced quickly at Ryer, but she was still staring blankly.

“She is the witch’s tool,” the cloaked figure declared softly, looking over at the seer.

“Her eyess and earss aboard little Elvess sship.” Cree Bega glanced at Ahren. “Not anymore. Belongss to uss now. Sservess uss.”

Ahren refused to believe what he was hearing. Ryer Ord Star would never go back to serving their enemies, not after what she had gone through, not after breaking free of the Ilse Witch. She had said she was finished with that. She had sworn it.

Stunned, he watched as his captors turned away from him and walked to where the seer stood. Bent close, the cloaked one began speaking to her. The words were too faint for Ahren to hear, but Ryer Ord Star nodded and then replied. The conversation lasted just minutes, but it was clear that some sort of agreement had been reached.

He moved his elbows down close to his sides, pressing them against his ribs, shifting first one way and then the other, straining at the cords that bound his wrists as he tried to determine if the Elf stones were indeed gone. It seemed they were; he could find no trace of their presence.

Close by, the chained beast growled and snapped at him again, trying to break free, all size and teeth and claws as it fought against its restraints. Ahren quit moving and stood as still as he could manage, staring into the creature’s eyes. He was surprised to find that they were almost human.

The cloaked figure walked back across the clearing and stood looking down at him. “I am the Morgawr,” he said, his voice soft and strangely warm, as if he sought to reassure Ahren of his friendship. “Do you know of me?”

Ahren nodded.

“What is your name?”

“Ahren Elessedil,” he answered, deciding there was no reason to hide it.

“Youngest son of Allardon Elessedil? Why isn’t your brother here?”

“My brother wanted me to come instead. He wanted an Elessedil presence, but not his own.”

The flat face nodded. “I am told you can invoke the power of the Elfstones, the ones Kael Elessedil carried on his voyage thirty years ago. Is that so?”

Ahren nodded, disappointment welling up inside him. Ryer Ord Star had betrayed him. He wished he had never trusted her. He wished he had left her behind in the catacombs of Castledown.

“Where are the Stones now?” the Morgawr asked.

Ahren was so surprised by the question that for a moment he just stared. He had assumed that the Mwellrets had taken them from him when he was captured. Had they failed to do so? Was he mistaken about having them still?