The High Druid of Shannara Trilogy

Preoccupied with the crossing itself and with what waited, he had not thought to bring anything to eat with him when he crossed the bridge from Stridegate. He rose finally and went looking for food. He searched the forest about him, never moving too far from the tree, keeping the orange-tinged emerald canopy always in sight. But although he looked everywhere he could think to look, he found nothing save a tiny spill of water that trickled out of a fissure in a rock wall. He drank that, the water tasting of metal and earth.

He was about to return to the tanequil for another try at communicating with it when Cinnaminson appeared unexpectedly out of the trees, her face flushed with excitement as she rushed up to him.

“Penderrin,” she gasped, “it was incredible!”

“Where have you been?” he asked, taking her by the shoulders. “I was worried about you.”

She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him as if she had been gone for weeks, rather than hours. He could feel the soft hiss of her breath in his ear as she laughed. “Did you miss me?”

He nodded, confused by her strange excitement. “Are you all right?”

She pushed back from him so that they were face-to-face. Her smile reflected a child’s wonder as she reached up to touch his cheek. “Pen, I saw everything. The aeriads showed me. I don’t know how they managed it, but they let me see it all. They took shape and flew all around me, like tiny rainbow butterflies, changing colors and shimmering so brightly they seemed like pieces of the sun. It was so wonderful! Then they changed to become like me—girls, no older than I am! We danced and played! We laughed until I could hardly stand up! Do you know how long it has been since I laughed?”

He stared at her, shocked at the transformation. She had always been effusive, but she was alive now in a way he had never witnessed. It was as if she were being reborn into the world, made over by her encounter with the aeriads. He was surprised to find that he was vaguely jealous.

“Did you find out what they really are? Where they come from?”

She nodded. “They told me. They call themselves spirits of the air—aeriads—but they are much more. They call themselves seedlings, as well. They think of themselves as creatures of the tanequil, his children.” She stopped herself. “Their children,” she corrected. “I don’t understand this part, but they think of the tanequil as both mother and father. The tree is both man and woman to them, able to be one or the other or both as needed.” She shook her head. “I’m still learning.”

Pen thought about the tanequil’s voice in his head. Masculine, he reaffirmed, not feminine. Where was the mother side of the tree, then?

“Are you hungry?” she asked suddenly.

He nodded. “Starved. I’ve been looking for something to eat.”

She took his hand. “Come with me.”

She led the way through the trees, navigating the maze of ancient trunks as if her sight had miraculously been restored. There was no hesitation, no deviation. She seemed able to see even better than she had before, her strange gift enhanced perhaps by the magic of the place and its creatures.

She took him to a cluster of berry-laden bushes near a clear, spring-fed pool. The berries were rich and sweet, and he ate them hungrily, then drank the cool, clear water of the pool, which was nothing like the metallic trickle he had sampled earlier.

When they were finished, sitting next to each other on a grassy stretch by the pool, made lazy by the food and drink and the warmth of the sunlight through the trees, Pen asked, “How did you find this place? Did the aeriads show it to you?”

She nodded. “They seem to know what we need, Pen. They knew you were seeking the tanequil, and they led you to it. They knew that I needed to laugh again, and they made me. And they knew I needed to understand them, once they had revealed themselves, and they allowed me to do so. In part, at least.” She paused, staring off into space. “They are so wonderful. I wish I could explain it better. They are free in a way I’ve never been. They can fly wherever they wish, be whatever they want, do whatever they choose. Sisters, of a sort— though I don’t think they really are. They seem to have come from different places, at different times.”

“But they sound the same,” he pointed out.

“They have become one, become a part of a whole. They are different, each of them, but they are the same, too.”

He puzzled over that one for a moment, thinking of the way a family worked, then of something more cohesive, like a flock or a herd. But that didn’t seem right, either. Finally, he settled on a school of fish, all swimming together and then changing direction at once.

“What do they want with you?” he asked finally. “I don’t think they want anything, Pen.”

“Then why are they so interested in you? Why did they bring you here in the first place? Why are they telling you so much about themselves?”

She laughed, as if the answer should be obvious. “I think they just want someone to talk to. I think they know I will listen because I am interested in them.”

She reached over and squeezed his hand. “Tell me about the tanequil. What have you learned?”