The High Druid of Shannara Trilogy

By nightfall, they were deep in the wetlands, though much farther east than when they had started out, and there was still no sign of their pursuit. When asked of their progress, Hatch replied that they were a little more than halfway through. By the next night, if their luck continued to hold, they would reach the far side.

That couldn’t happen any too soon for Pen. He was already sick of the Slags, of the smell and taste of the air, of the grayness of the light, unfriendly and wearing, of the sickness he felt lurking in the fetid waters, waiting to infect whoever was unfortunate enough to breathe it in. This was no place for people of any persuasion. Even on an airship, Pen felt vulnerable.

But perhaps his anticipation of what was going to happen when it was time to leave the Skatelow was working on him, as well. Taking Cinnaminson from her father was not going to be pleasant. He did not for a moment doubt that he could do it, did not once question that he could do whatever was necessary. But thinking about it made him uneasy. Gar Hatch was a dangerous man, and Pen did not underestimate him. He thought that Cinnaminson’s fears about what might have happened in Anatcherae were well founded. Gar Hatch probably did betray them to Terek Molt. He probably thought they would never live to reach the Skatelow to finish this voyage and that was why he was so distressed when Ahren Elessedil reappeared and ordered him to set sail. It wasn’t unfinished repairs or stocking of supplies that had upset him; it was the fact that he had been forced to go at all.

What would he do when he found out that his daughter, his most valuable asset in his business, was leaving him to go with Pen? He would do something. The boy was certain of it.

On the other hand, Pen hadn’t done much to help matters along from his end, either. He hadn’t said a word to his three companions about what he and Cinnaminson had agreed upon. He didn’t know how. Certainly, Tagwen and Khyber would never support him. The Dwarf would do nothing that would jeopardize their efforts to reach the Ard Rhys, and the Elven girl already thought his involvement with Cinnaminson was a big mistake. Only Ahren Elessedil was likely to demonstrate any compassion, any willingness to grant his request. But he didn’t know how best to approach the Druid. So he had delayed all day, thinking each time he considered speaking that he would do so later.

Well, later was here. It was nightfall, dinner behind them by now, and the next day was all the time he had left. He couldn’t wait much longer; he couldn’t chance being turned down with no further opportunity to press his demand.

But before he could act on his thinking, Gar Hatch wandered over in the twilight and said, “I’d like to speak with you a moment, young Penderrin. Alone.”

He took the boy up into the pilot box, separating him from the others. Pen forced himself to stay calm, to not glance over at Ahren and Khyber, to resist the urge to check how close they were if he needed rescuing. He knew what was coming. He had not thought Cinnaminson would be so quick to tell her father, but then there was no reason why she should wait. He wished fleetingly, however, that she had told him she had done so.

Standing before Pen, the misty light so bad by now that the boy could barely make out his features, Gar Hatch shook his bearded head slowly.

“My girl tells me she’s leaving the ship,” he said softly. “Leaving with you. Is this so?”

Pen had given no thought at all to what he would say when this moment happened, and now he was speechless. He forced himself to look into the other’s hard eyes. “It is.”

“She says you love her. True?”

“Yes. I do.”

The big man regarded him silently for a moment, as if deciding whether to toss him overboard. “You’re sure about this, are you, Penderrin? You’re awfully young and you don’t know my girl very well yet. It might be better to wait on this.”

Pen took a deep breath. “I think we know each other well enough. I know we’re young, but we aren’t children. We’re ready.”

Another long moment of silence followed. The big man studied him carefully, and Pen felt the weight of his gaze. He wanted to say something more, but he couldn’t think of anything that would make it any easier. So he kept still.

“Well,” the other said finally, “it seems you’ve made up your minds, the two of you. I don’t think I can stop you without causing hard feelings, and I’m not one for doing that. I think it’s a mistake, Penderrin, but if you have decided to try it, then I won’t stand in your way. You seem a good lad. I know Cinnaminson has grown weary of life on the Skatelow. She wants more for herself, a different way of life. She’s entitled. Do you think you can take care of her as well as I have?”

Pen nodded. “I will do my best. I think we will take care of each other.”

Hatch grunted. “Easier said than done, lad. If you fail her, I’ll come looking for you. You know that, don’t you?”

“I won’t fail her.”