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

He shook his head, his eyes wondering. “How did you know about this?”


“Walker told me.” She began undoing the straps that secured the framework, shaking it loose. “He learned about it from Big Red. The rets don’t know of it. There, it’s ready. Climb up on the edge of the pontoon and strap yourself in!”

He did as she instructed, still clearly dazed by what was happening, not yet able to think it through completely enough to see its flaws. She just had to get him off the ship and into the air, and then it would be too late. Things would be decided, insofar as she was able to make it so. That was as much as she could manage.

“You should come now,” he argued, still trying to find a way to take her with him.

She shook her head. “No. Later. Fly inland from the coast when you get further north. Look for a rain forest in the heart of the mountains. That’s where the others are, on a cliff overlooking it. My visions showed them to me.”

He shrugged into the shoulder harness, and she cinched it tight across his back. She opened the wing frame so that it would catch the wind and showed him the steering bar and control straps. She glanced over her shoulder every few seconds toward the deck above, but the Mwellrets were not yet looking her way.

“Ryer,” he began, turning toward her once more.

“Here,” she said, reaching into her thin robes and extracting a pouch. She shoved it into his tunic, deep down inside so that it was snugged away. “The Elfstones,” she whispered.

He stared at her in disbelief. “But how could you have—”

“Go!” she hissed, shoving him off the side of the pontoon and into space.

She watched the wind catch the canvas and draw the framework taut. She watched the single wing soar out into the darkness. She caught a quick glimpse of the Elven Prince’s wondering face, saw the man he had become eclipse the boy she had begun her journey with, and then he was gone.

“Good-bye, Ahren Elessedil,” she whispered into the night.

The words floated on the air feather-light and fading even as she turned away, alone now for good.





Twenty-one

A hand shook his shoulder gently, and Bek Ohmsford stirred awake.

“If you sleep any longer, people will think you’re dead,” a familiar voice said.

He opened his eyes and blinked against the sunlight pouring out of the midday sky. Rue Meridian moved into the light, blocking it away, and stared down at him, a hint of irony in the faint twist of her pursed lips. Just seeing her warmed him in a way the sun never could and made him smile in turn.

“I feel like I’m dead,” he said. He lay stretched out on the deck of the Jerle Shannara, cocooned in blankets. He took in the railings of the airship and the mast jutting skyward overhead as he gathered his thoughts. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Since this time yesterday. How do you feel?”

His memories of the past week flooded back as he considered the question. His flight out of Castledown with Grianne and Truls Rohk. Their struggle to escape the pursuit of the Morgawr and his creatures. The battle with the caull. Truls, dying. Their encounter with the shape-shifters and the lifesaving transformation of his friend. Climbing with Grianne into the mountains, trusting that they would somehow find their way. Finding Quentin after so long, a miracle made possible because of a promise made to a dead man.

And then, when it seemed the mountains would swallow them whole, another miracle, as Hunter Predd, searching for the Jerle Shannara’s lost children, plucked them off the precipice and carried them away.

“I feel better than I did when I was brought here,” Bek said. He took a deep, satisfying breath. “I feel better than I have in a long time.” He took a good look at her, noting the raw marks on her face and the splint on her left arm. “What happened to you? Been wrestling with moor cats again?”

She cocked her head. “Maybe.”

“You’re hurt.”

“Cuts and bruises. A broken arm and a few broken ribs. Nothing that won’t heal.” She punched him lightly. “I could have used your help.”

“I could have used yours.”

“Missed me, did you?”

She tossed the question out casually, as if his answer didn’t mean anything. But he knew it did. For just an instant he was convinced it meant everything, that she wanted him to tell her she was important to him in a way that went beyond friendship. It was an improbable and foolish notion, but he couldn’t shake it. Anyway, he liked the idea and didn’t question it.

“Okay, I missed you,” he said.

“Good.” She bent down suddenly and kissed his lips. It was just a quick brush followed by a touching of his cheek with her fingers, and then she lifted away again. “I missed you, too. Know why?”