The High Druid of Shannara Trilogy

Gerand Cera shook his head in disagreement. “The Prime Minister doesn’t have the use of magic.”


“Perhaps he has acquired the aid of someone who does.” Her eyes locked on his. “One of us.”

He snorted. “Who? Who would want to give aid to Sen Dunsidan, knowing that you would view it as a—” He stopped himself. “Are you thinking of Iridia?”

“Do we know where she is? Did we ever find out where she went after she left here?”

Cera shook his head slowly. “No. But she wouldn’t dare to betray us. She knows what would happen if she did.”

She cringed at his use of the word us, at the implication that he was somehow a part of the decision-making process, when in fact he was little more than another obstacle. She glanced away to hide her disgust, then turned and walked to the window. She stood there for a moment, thinking.

“What do you intend to do?” he asked, rising and coming over to put his hands on her shoulders.

She felt the strength of those hands as they gripped her. They were possessive and commanding as they turned her about to face him. They suggested in no uncertain terms that he was the one in control. She smiled agreeably as he leaned down and kissed her mouth. She kissed him back, waited for the kiss to end, then broke away.

“I intend to drink my morning cup of tea before speaking with those in the order who will keep an eye on things in our absence.”

He stared after her. “Our absence? Are we going somewhere?”

“To confront Sen Dunsidan, of course.”

She had told him nothing of her plans to visit Arishaig before this. The reason was simple. She had not intended for him to go. She still didn’t, but it was best to let him think she did.

“To confront him? In his own home, his own city, surrounded by his own people?” Gerand Cera considered the prospect. “A bold course of action, Shadea. How safe can we expect to be?”

She shrugged, pouring tea into cups, slipping into his the tiny pill she had been saving for that moment and watching it dissolve instantly. “We are Druids, Gerand. We can’t afford to worry about being safe. We can’t afford to be seen to be afraid.”

She handed him his tea, stood in front of him as she sipped from her own, and watched with satisfaction as he drank.

“Sit with me on the bed.” She took his arm and moved over. She pulled him down next to her. “Perhaps we needn’t go down right away. The tea is making me warm all over. I need to find a way to cool off.”

She smiled and sipped again. “Come, Gerand. Finish your tea. Don’t keep me waiting.”

He drank it in a single gulp and reached for her. His appetites were so pathetic, so predictable. She eased away playfully. He was still grinning when the drug took effect. An abrupt change came over his hatchet features. His face went slack and empty, and he lurched forward, falling onto his side.

That was quick, she thought. She rose and looked down at him, at the way his eyes rolled frantically from side to side as he tried to understand what was happening to him. She eased a pillow under his head, then reached for his legs and lifted them onto the bed so that he was lying stretched out along its length.

“Comfortable, Gerand? Much better to rest while this is happening.” Knowing he could no longer reach for her, could no longer move at all for that matter, she bent over him. His lungs and his heart still worked, but not very efficiently. He barely had the strength of a baby.

“I’ve given you a drug,” she explained, sitting next to him. “It saps the strength from your muscles and leaves you paralyzed. It only lasts a little while. There is no trace of its presence afterwards. Unlike poison, for example, which I considered using but decided against. After all, I can’t afford to be seen as a murderess.”

She leaned close. “You see what is to happen, I expect. Your eyes tell me you know. So now you no longer love me. Now, you despise me. Love is like that. It only lasts for as long as both parties require it, and then it becomes a burden, which is one reason I do not permit myself to love anyone too much. You should have learned that lesson a long time ago. I am surprised you didn’t. Now you must learn it the hard way.”

He was staring fixedly at her, and she read the hatred in his eyes. In contrast, his face was empty of expression, and it seemed as if the eyes must belong to someone else. Yet the eyes were really all that was left of him. Everything else had been stripped away by the drug.

She leaned down and kissed him lightly on the forehead. “Try not to think too harshly of me, Gerand. You would have done the same, if you had paid closer attention to how I looked at you.”

Then she took the pillow from under his head, placed it firmly over his face, and pressed down on it with all of her considerable strength until he stopped breathing.