The High Druid of Shannara Trilogy

“Yes, yes!” she snapped. “I’m not going to do anything rash or foolish!” Her irritation got the better of her for a moment, and she took a deep breath. “I just want to see if that ravine goes all the way around or if there are other places to cross. I won’t attempt anything on my own.”


She didn’t know if they believed her or not, but if they did, they ought to be less trusting. She fully intended to attempt a crossing if a place to make one could be found. She should have gone with Pen and Cinnaminson in the first place, but she had allowed her instincts to be overruled.

She stood up, giving them a bright smile. “I don’t expect to be gone long. I probably won’t get much beyond what we can see from standing right here, but it will make me feel better to have tried.”

Their eyes fixed on her, as if searching for the truth behind her words, neither replied. She turned away quickly and started off, choosing to go south, where the gardens opened out toward a thinning woods and a set of hills. She could see the ravine as it snaked its way into those hills, disappearing finally into the horizon. In truth, she didn’t have much hope that she would succeed in her quest. She mostly hoped that the distraction would help with the waiting.

She was so intent on her efforts to get clear of the others that she failed to detect with her normally reliable Druid training the shadowy form lying in wait directly ahead. She missed it entirely as it slipped away at her approach and circled back around toward the bridge.


Pen Ohmsford followed the low, vibrant humming of the aeriads as they led him on through the trees and back toward the dark cut of the ravine. The light casting his shadow before him as he walked, he could measure the direction they were taking from the slant of the sun’s thin rays through the heavy canopy. He tried to hear Cinnaminson in the mix of aeriad voices, but he could not detect a noticeable difference in any of them. She was being assimilated into their order, and he could not stop himself from thinking that if he did not reach her soon, there would be no way to separate her from the others, even if her body was still intact.

Thinking of her body at rest beneath the earth in the cradle of the tanequil’s roots made him wonder about the condition of the bodies of the other aeriads. For their spirits to survive in aeriad form, their bodies must be kept whole, as well. But how was that accomplished? He was feeling less and less certain about what it was he was going to find. He was starting to think that his request was a mistake.

Yet he kept on, drawn by the humming, by the promise it offered that he might still find a way to bring Cinnaminson back to him. Both hands gripped the polished length of the darkwand, the only weapon he possessed aside from his long knife. The darkwand was a talisman of magic meant to be used to breach the wall of the Forbidding. But it had come from the wood of the tree. Could it be used to penetrate the tangle of the tanequil’s roots? Could it be employed in some way to free the Rover girl?

It was wishful thinking, seductive and empty of promise. There was nothing to suggest the darkwand would do him the slightest bit of good in his effort to bring Cinnaminson out of the ravine. But it was all he had to rely on, and so even in the face of the patent improbability of it helping him, he held out hope that it would.

Time slipped away. He was beginning to lose his sense of direction as the tree limbs tightened overhead and the light faded to a dull wash. But the voices stayed strong, the humming steady, and so he persevered, his determination unshaken. Now and again, he thought to call out to Cinnaminson, to reassure himself that she was still there, but he restrained himself from doing so, knowing that it suggested a weakness in himself he did not want to acknowledge.

Eventually, the ground began to slope, then to drop sharply, and the dark crease of the ravine loomed ahead through the trees. As the trilling of the aeriads intensified, Pen felt his hopes sink further; there was unmistakable joy and expectation in those voices. Tightening his grip on the darkwand, he followed the singing to a narrow trail that led downward. The brush and trees a concealing wall, the trail was invisible from anywhere but where he stood. He descended slowly, tracking the trail’s switchbacks, keeping close to the ravine wall so he would not slip. One glance down revealed that if he was to do so, he could fall a long way.

As he went deeper, the light grew ever more faint, until everything was shrouded in gloom. Spots of iridescence given off by organisms growing on the plant life began to shimmer softly in the enfolding darkness. The ravine had the feel of a maw, its dark, wet earth sprouting jagged rocks that jutted like teeth.

I am a fool to come here, he thought.