The High Druid of Shannara Trilogy

The Druid nodded. “Once you are back at Paranor, they can go, too. In fact, once you’ve told us what we want to know, what your purpose is in coming here, you can go, too.”


He was lying. He made it sound believable, exuding just the right amount of sincerity and reasonableness through his choice of words and tone of voice, but Pen knew the truth of things at once. The Druid would have done better to tell him something less soothing, but he supposed the man saw him as a boy and thought he would respond better to a lie than to the truth.

He paused to consider what he should do next. He had asked the questions that needed asking and gotten the answers he expected. It reconfirmed his suspicions about what would happen if he crossed the bridge to surrender to them. On the other hand, if he stayed where he was, they would capture him sooner or later, even if he went back down into the chasm, something he did not think he could do. Worse, he would be doing nothing to help his family and friends. If he was as concerned about responsibility as he liked to think, he would have to do more than go off and hide.

The decision was easier to make than he would have thought. He had to go to Paranor anyway if he was to use the darkwand to reach his aunt. Rescuing the Ard Rhys was what he had set out to do, and he couldn’t do that if he didn’t get inside the Druid’s Keep. The Druids who had come for him were offering him a chance to do just that. He would have preferred going about it in a different way, but it all ended the same. The trick would be finding a way to keep the darkwand in his possession until he could get inside the chamber of the Ard Rhys.

He had no idea how he was going to do that.

“I want to speak with Tagwen,” he called out. “Send him to the head of the bridge and move back so I can come across safely.”

The Druids exchanged an uncertain glance. “When you surrender yourself, then we will let you talk with Tagwen,” the taller one said.

Pen shook his head. “If you want me to surrender, you have to let me talk with Tagwen first. I want to hear from him what he thinks about your promises. I want to hear from him how good he thinks your word is. If you don’t let me talk to him, I’m staying right here.”

He watched their dark faces bend close and heard them confer in inaudible whispers. He could tell they didn’t like the request and were trying to come up with a way to refuse it.

“If you think I will be so easy to find over here come morning, perhaps you should wait to try it and find out for yourselves,” he said suddenly. “It might not be as easy as you think. That spider creature you sent to hunt me down? Or was it supposed to kill me? You did send it, didn’t you?”

He asked the questions on impulse, not knowing how they would answer, but suspecting. He was not disappointed. Both Druids stared at him in surprise. The one who did all the talking folded his arms into his cloak. “We didn’t send him. But we know who did. We thought he was dead, killed in the Slags.”

Pen shook his head, his eyes shifting to Tagwen, who was watching him alertly now, knowing he was up to something, anxious to find out what it was. “He? Not it?”

“Aphasia Wye. A man, but I grant you he looks more an insect than a human. Are you saying he isn’t dead? Where is he?”

“No, he’s dead. But he didn’t die in the Slags. He tracked us all the way here. Last night, he crossed the bridge. Just as you want to do. Except that he found a way. Then he found me, but something else, too, and it killed him. If you want to see what that something is, fly your airship on over. I’ll wait for you.”

It was a bluff, but it was a bluff worth trying. Aphasia Wye was a predator of the first order—they might be hesitant to go up against something that had dispatched him. It cast Pen in a different light, giving him a more dangerous aspect, since he was alive and his hunter wasn’t. He had to make them stop and think about whether it was worthwhile to refuse his request.