The High Druid of Shannara Trilogy

Several hours passed and Ahren Elessedil did not return. As dusk approached and the shadows lengthened, rain began to fall once more, a steady, obstinate drizzle that dampened the mist but did nothing to dispel it. Pen went into the common room with Khyber and Tagwen to eat. Mindful of the need to stay anonymous, they took a table in a back corner, well away from the door and the stream of traffic entering and leaving. The Druids were still hunting them, the word still abroad that money would be paid for anyone who brought Pen to their attention. Perhaps they should have worried more about Gar Hatch’s mercenary tendencies, since Rovers were always on the lookout for an easy opportunity to increase their fortunes. But Ahren had not seemed concerned, and Khyber had insisted that because the Druid was paying Hatch a great deal more than the Rover could get by turning them in, it made better sense for Hatch to stay loyal to them.

“I don’t like it that he’s been gone so long,” Tagwen growled softly, giving Khyber a hard look. “You don’t think something might have happened to him, do you?”

She shook her head. “I think if it had, we would have heard. Word would have spread by now.”

“Then where is he?”

Pen took a long pull on his mug of ale. “He might have decided we’d get out of here quicker if he stayed around to supervise Hatch in making the necessary preparations. I don’t think he believes the Captain has done all that well on his own.”

Tagwen grunted, took a piece of bread from his plate and shoved it into his mouth in one monstrous bite. “Mmmff ummfatt wff.”

The boy cocked his head. “I didn’t quite catch that.” Khyber was shaking her head in disgust.

The Dwarf swallowed. “I said, maybe one of us should go and see.”

“That would be you,” Khyber snapped irritably, “since Pen and I are forbidden to go outside the walls of this grim little lie-down. Do you want to leave now?”

They went back to eating in silence, turning their attention to steaming plates of fresh fish that the server had brought over from the kitchen. Tagwen rubbed his hands together enthusiastically, any plans for going down to the waterfront put aside for the moment. While eating, they finished off the ale pitcher, and an impatient Khyber rose and walked to the serving bar to get another.

She was waiting for a refill when the doors to the inn banged open and Terek Molt walked into the room, trailed by half a dozen of his Gnome Hunters.

Heads turned to watch them enter, and conversations died. Pen put down his fork and knife and glanced quickly at Tagwen. The Dwarf hadn’t seen their enemy yet, but now he caught the look on the boy’s face and turned. “Oh, no,” he whispered.

They were trapped. The Gnome Hunters were already spreading out, moving through the crowded room like wraiths. Two remained stationed at the only door leading to the street. Pen thought of fleeing through the kitchen, but he didn’t know if it led outside or not. His mind raced, seeking a way of escape. Maybe Molt didn’t know they were there. He didn’t seem to. He was standing in the middle of the room, black cloak shedding water on the wooden floor, hard eyes scanning the room. It was dark back here. He might not see them.

Cows might fly, too.

When the Druid’s gaze finally settled on him, Pen went cold all the way down to his feet. There was no mistaking what he saw in that gaze. He wondered how the Druid had found them, how he had come to Anatcherae when they had been so careful to leave no trail. He glanced quickly at the serving bar and saw Khyber preparing to return to the table. She didn’t know who Molt was, having never seen him; she didn’t realize the danger they were in. He had to warn her, but there was no way for him to do so without giving her away.

It was too late anyway. Terek Molt stalked over to their table and stopped when he was still a few feet away. “You’ve led me a chase,” he said softly. “But it’s ended now. Get to your feet and come with me. Don’t cause any trouble or it will be the worse for you. I don’t much care what it takes to bring you back to Paranor.”

Tagwen shook his head stubbornly. “We’re not coming with you. Not this boy and not me. We don’t want your protection.”

The Druid’s smile was quick and hard. “I’m not offering protection, Tagwen. I’m offering you a chance to stay alive, nothing more. Don’t mistake what this is about. Where is Ahren Elessedil?”

Neither Pen nor Tagwen answered. If Terek Molt didn’t know, that meant the Elf was still free. That, in turn, meant there was a chance.

“Get to your feet,” the Druid said a second time.