The High Druid of Shannara Trilogy

“Come across the bridge so that we can talk,” the Druid said.

The firelight threw his shadow across the stone archway in a dark stain that spilled into the chasm, and the portent it foreshadowed was unmistakable. Pen wished he hadn’t rushed into the light so quickly, that he had been more careful. But he had thought himself past the worst of it. He had survived his encounter with the tanequil and received the gift of the darkwand, the talisman that would give him access into the Forbidding. He had lost two fingers in doing so, but he had come to believe that they were a small price to pay. Losing Cinnaminson was a much larger price, but he had accepted that there was nothing he could do about it until after his aunt was safely returned, promising himself he would try to come back for her then. Finally, he had escaped the monster that had pursued them all the way from Anatcherae and knew it to be dead at last, pulled down into the chasm and crushed.

But now this.

His fingers tightened possessively around the darkwand, and he scanned the faces of the captive Trolls. All there, he saw. No one missing. No one even appeared hurt. They must have been caught completely by surprise not to have put up any fight. He wondered vaguely how that could have happened, how the Druids had found them at all, for that matter, but he guessed it was a pointless exercise.

A few of the Trolls were looking up now, Kermadec among them. The anger and disappointment on his face were unmistakable. He had failed Pen. They all had. The boy saw Tagwen there as well, almost hidden behind the massive bodies of his companions.

There was no sign of Khyber.

“Cross the bridge, Pen,” the Druid repeated, not unkindly. “Don’t make this any harder on yourself.”

“I think I should stay where I am,” Pen answered.

The Druid nodded, as if understanding him perfectly. “Well, you can do that, if you choose. I’ve read the warning on the stone, and I know better than to try to come across after you.” He paused. “Tell me. If the danger is real, how did you manage to get over there without being harmed?”

Pen said nothing.

“What are you doing here, anyway? Trying to help your aunt? Did you think you might find her here?” Pen stared back at him silently.

“We have your friends. All of them. You can see for yourself. We have your parents, as well, locked away at Paranor.” His voice was patient, calm. “It doesn’t do you any good to stay over there when those you care about are all over here. You can’t help them by refusing to face up to your responsibilities.”

My responsibilities, Pen repeated silently. What would this man know of his responsibilities? Why would he even care, save that he thought he could stop Pen from carrying them out?

A second Druid appeared beside the first, coming out of the darkness and into the light. This one was slender and small, a ferret-faced Gnome of particularly cunning looks, his eyes shifting swiftly from the first Druid to Pen and then back again. He muttered something, and the first Druid gave him a quick, angry look.

“How do I know you aren’t lying about my parents?” Pen asked suddenly; it wasn’t the first time he had heard the claim. He still didn’t want to believe it.

The first Druid turned back to him. “Well, you don’t. I can tell you that they were flying in a ship called Swift Sure when we brought them into the Keep. They helped us find you. Your father was worried about the disappearance of his sister, but more worried about you. That is how we found you, Pen.”

Gone cold to the bone, the boy stared at him. The explanation made perfect sense. His father would have aided them without realizing what he was doing, thinking it was the right thing, that they were as concerned about his aunt as he was. The King of the Silver River was supposed to have warned his parents of the Druids, but perhaps he had failed. If so, his father wouldn’t have known of their treachery. How could he?

Pen brushed back his tangled red hair while trying to think what to do.

“Let me put this to you another way,” the taller Druid went on, moving slightly in front of the other. “My companion is less patient than I am, although he isn’t volunteering to cross the bridge, either. But when morning comes, we will bring one of the airships across, and then we will have you, one way or the other. There are only so many places you can hide. This is all a big waste of time, given the way things eventually have to turn out.”

Pen suspected that was true. But his freedom, however temporary, was the only bargaining chip he possessed. “Will you set my friends free, if I agree to come over?”

The Druid nodded. “My word on it. All of them. We have no use for them beyond persuading you to come with us. Once you cross over, they are free to go.”

“What about my parents?”