The High Druid of Shannara Trilogy

The Dwarf nodded. “He is devoted to the Ard Rhys. He will do whatever he can to help. He is a good and brave man.”


“Then we have our plan,” Khyber declared. “But we will be careful how we go, Tagwen,” she assured the Dwarf. “We won’t be careless. Uncle Ahren gave us a chance to complete this journey. We won’t waste that gift.”

“Then we’d better think about moving away from here right now,” Pen declared. “If they can track us from our use of magic, they won’t have much trouble finding us here. Not after the expenditure of magic used to destroy the Galaphile.”

Khyber stood up. “Once we’re back in the trees, we won’t be so easy to track.” She paused. “I just wish I knew how much farther we had to go.”

“Then why don’t you find out?” Pen asked. She stared at him. “Use the Elfstones. What difference does it make if you use them now? We’ve already given ourselves away. Before we set out, let’s see where it is that we’re going. Then maybe we won’t have to use the Stones again.”

“The boy is right,” Tagwen said at once. “Go ahead. Let’s see where we are.”

They stood in a ragged group at the shore’s edge while Khyber took out the Elfstones and balanced them in her hand. They stared at the glittering talismans for a moment, transfixed by their brightness and their promise. Without saying so, they were all thinking the same thing. So much depended on what the Stones revealed. If they were too deep in the Slags to avoid its snares and predators, then they might have to use the magic again, even if it gave them away. But if they were close to the wetland border, they might have a chance to escape undetected.

Khyber closed her fingers about the talismans and held them out in the direction of the sunrise. Long moments passed, and nothing happened.

“They’re not responding,” she said. Her voice was strained and rough. “I can’t make them work.”

“Don’t be afraid, Khyber,” Pen said.

“I’m not afraid!” she snapped.

“Yes, you are. But don’t be. I’m frightened enough for the both of us.”

She glanced over at him, saw the look on his face, and smiled in spite of herself. She dropped her arm to her side. “All right,” she said. “Let me try again.”

She took a deep, steadying breath, exhaled slowly, and held out the Stones. Her eyes closed. An instant later, the magic flared from her fist, gathered itself in a blaze of fire, and shot out into the gloom like a beast at hunt. Slicing through trees and brush and grass, through the whole of the Slags, it flared in sharp relief against a backdrop of hills leading into mountains, of green fields brightened by wildflowers, of streams and waterfalls, and of dazzling sunshine.

The picture shimmered bright and clear for a moment longer, then vanished as if it had never been, leaving them encased once more in mist and gloom. They stood looking off in the direction it had shown for a moment, savoring the memory, the promise, then looked at one another appraisingly.

“It’s not all that far,” Pen declared bravely, although in truth he had no idea how far it was. “We can make it.”

“Of course, we can,” Tagwen agreed, screwing up his worn countenance into a mask of resolve.

“It can’t be more than another day,” Khyber added, pocketing the Elfstones. “We can be there by sunset.”

They began walking, turning back into the trees and leaving the mist-shrouded bay and its dark memories behind. It was slow going, their passage obstructed by fallen trees, heavy brush, and endless stretches of swamp water. They had to be especially careful of the latter because many hid patches of quicksand that would have swallowed them without a trace. Pen used his magic once more, reaching out to the life of the swamp to discover what it was thinking and doing. Though he couldn’t see what he was hearing for the most part, he was able to detect the presence of small birds, rodents, insects, and even a smattering of water creatures. Each told him something of what was happening around them. He was able to discover more than once dangers that threatened. He was able to tell from moods and responses between species the paths they should follow and those they should avoid.

They walked all day, yet by sunset it felt as if they hadn’t gone anywhere. Everything looked exactly the same as it had hours earlier. Nor was there any apparent end in sight, the gloom and mist and wetlands stretching on endlessly in all directions. If anything, the swamp had thickened and tightened about them, stealing away a little more of the light and air, eroding their hopes that they might get clear soon.