The High Druid of Shannara Trilogy

The young Druid nodded. “Bellizen should already be there. She will have secured it for us. Can you walk?”


Rue was tearing her robe into long strips, using the dagger to cut the fabric. Without comment, she began wrapping it tightly about Bek’s midsection. He leaned into her and whispered as she did so, “I love you.”

Then they were running, all three of them, back down the corridor past the dead men and fallen weapons, past the blood and vomit, and up the stairs, gaining the guardroom and the corridors beyond. It was still quiet in the Keep, no warning yet raised, no alarm given. Then Trefen Morys took them a different way, using a series of narrow back stairways to gain the higher floors. Rue tried to help Bek, who was beginning to falter. His blood speckled the floor behind him as he ran. They were still in great danger, their escape reliant on reaching Swift Sure before the rest of the Gnome guards discovered their comrades.

Or they had the misfortune of stumbling across someone who would give them away—which was exactly what happened.

They had just reached the upper levels, where tall windows opened to hazy gray light and heavy clouds, when a lone Gnome Hunter came out of a room right next to them. Everyone froze for an instant, and then the Gnome was crying out. Rue buried her dagger in his chest, knocking him back into the room, but the damage had been done. The cry was immediately taken up, and the pursuit they had feared was mobilizing.

They began to run again, Bek’s arm about Rue’s shoulders, her arm about his waist. She felt the thick dampness of his blood seeping into her own clothing.

“It’s not far!” Trefen Morys called back to them, leading the way. “Just ahead, through those doors!”

A pair of heavy, ironbound oak doors stood closed at the end of the corridor. But the sound of boots reverberated on the stone flooring from just out of sight behind the fugitives. We’re not going to make it, Rue thought.

Gnome Hunters burst into view, rounding a corner of the hallway perhaps a hundred feet back. Too many to stand and face. Too many to overcome with conventional weapons. Rue glanced at Bek. His eyes were slits in a face gone pale and sweaty. His breathing was shallow and ragged. He was failing rapidly and in no position to use his magic.

Then they were at the double doors, and Trefen Morys was wrenching them open. Rue and Bek stumbled through, and the young Druid shoved the doors closed behind them and stepped back. “Wait!”

He mumbled something, his hands weaving. The locks on the doors melted and fused into a knot of iron, sealed shut.

He turned back to them and grinned triumphantly. “I know a little magic.”

They were in the airship courtyard and Swift Sure hovered just off the ground not a hundred yards ahead, straining at her anchor ropes, her light sheaths rippling in the breeze and her radian draws taut. She was rigged for flying and ready to lift off. From the pilot box, a solitary figure dressed in black Druid robes jumped up and started waving.

“Bellizen!” Trefen Morys shouted.

The girl shouted back, then darted out of the box and down to the decking. A moment later, one end of a rope ladder flew over the side.

But in the same instant a clutch of Gnome Hunters appeared on the Keep’s battlements behind them. They howled in anger when they saw what was happening. Still supporting a wounded Bek, Rue lurched toward the safety of the airship. Trefen Morys darted ahead. Then, seeing how badly his companions were struggling, he raced back to help, taking Bek’s other arm and slinging it over his shoulder.

“Hurry!” he urged.

Rue didn’t need to be told. Arrows fired from Gnome bows were falling all around them, sharpened heads clattering and skipping across the stones. Rue realized suddenly that she had no weapons of her own, that none of them had, that they had left everything behind in their battle to escape the cells.

She glanced ahead at Swift Sure, caught sight of the starboard rail sling in place on the bow, and felt a flutter of hope. “Does Bellizen know how to use airship weapons?” she shouted at Trefen Morys above the cry of the attacking guards. “Do you?”

The young Druid shook his head. “Neither of us does! We aren’t trained in the use of weapons!”

A bad oversight, she thought. She took a deep breath. “Stay with Bek!” she ordered.

She dropped her husband’s arm and sprinted for the airship ladder. She knew what she was doing. She was trying to save him, but she was also leaving him to his fate, abandoning him to the Gnome Hunters. He would never reach the airship if she failed. Both he and Trefen Morys would die.

But there wasn’t any other way.

A crossbow bolt caught her in the thigh, passing so deep into her flesh it jarred the bone. She cried out in pain, stumbled, righted herself and hobbled on. Arrows rained down all about her, but she was only nicked until one caught her in the shoulder and spun her all the way around. She continued to run, teeth clenched, hands knotted into fists.