The High Druid of Shannara Trilogy

A handful of doors farther down the corridor, she stepped into a deeply shadowed alcove and stood breathing hard with her back against the rough wall, her mind racing. Ahren would have known what to do next if he were there. She must try to think the way Ahren would. She squeezed her eyes shut against the pain that thinking of him cost her, then opened them quickly, determined not to give way. The mechanics were easy. She needed to find her way to the cells. To do that, she needed to find someone to tell her how.

She brushed at her short-cropped dark hair, squared her shoulders, then stepped back out into the corridor and began walking deeper into the Keep.

Empty of life, the passageway tunneled ahead, her footsteps soft echoes in the silence. She was aware that she still wore the Gnome hunting cloak and that it would eventually draw unwanted attention. Her first order of business was to replace it with a Druid robe. But that was easier said than done. It wasn’t as if there were robes hanging on hooks all up and down the hallway, Druids wandering about from whom she might steal one.

But she got lucky. At a juncture of corridors much deeper inside the Keep, just as she was despairing that she might wander the halls of Paranor until sunrise, she came upon a study chamber with lights burning and Druids at work. She paused just outside the doorway, still within the corridor shadows, and peered inside. She could see three dark-cloaked forms, hoods thrown back, bodies hunched over books at tables, heads lowered in concentration.

She stood for a time, trying to decide what to do next. But she couldn’t think of anything that didn’t involve going into the room for a closer look around. That was too dangerous. She hesitated, undecided, and as she did so, she felt a finger tap her shoulder.

“Are you looking for someone?”

That she didn’t jump out of her skin entirely was something of a miracle. She even managed to turn around. A Druid stood behind her, a questioning look on his scowling face. Bright green eyes peered out from under heavy, furrowed brows. A Southlander. She stared at him without speaking, her heart gone straight to her throat.

“Sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “Didn’t mean to frighten you. But you look like you don’t know what you’re doing here.” He rubbed his smooth chin reflectively, then glanced at her robe and gave a disapproving frown. “Why are you wearing a Gnome Hunter’s cloak? You know the rules.”

She didn’t, of course, but she nodded anyway. “I was working on the airships and wore the robe to keep from getting dirty. I forgot to take it off.”

“Well, it’s not allowed.” He glanced past her into the study room. “Wait here.”

He stepped inside, out of view, then returned a moment later and thrust a Druid robe into her hands. “Here, wear this until you can put on one of your own. The rules are clear.”

She nodded her thanks, slipped off the Gnome cloak, and slipped on the proffered robe. “I’ve been away. I don’t know all the new rules.”

The Druid looked suddenly eager. “Did you come in one of those airships that just landed? Has something else happened?”

She hesitated. Something else? What was he talking about? “The airships brought in a boy,” she said, deciding to measure his reaction.

“Ah, the Ohmsford boy.” The Druid shook his head. “What a lot of bother. They’ve been looking for him for weeks. Nephew to the old Ard Rhys. They think the whole family is at risk, so they’re bringing them here to keep them safe. Found the parents, but they couldn’t find the boy. Until now.”

“So the parents are here?” she tried.

“No, no, that’s what I was talking about. They’re gone. Disappeared with their ship two days ago. Flew off in something of a confrontation, I hear. Hard to say; the Gnomes won’t talk about it with us. But there was a fight of some sort. No one knows. Shadea keeps such things secret from everyone but her closest advisers.” He shrugged. “Typical.”

Khyber took a deep breath. “Do you think she would be awake this late? I need to see her.”

The Druid shook his head. “You don’t know much about what’s going on, do you? She isn’t even here. She went to Arishaig and hasn’t returned.”

“As I said, I’ve been away,” Khyber repeated. “All this is news to me.” She had learned all she was going to learn and more than she had expected. She had to break this off. “Who would I speak to in her absence?”

The Druid frowned. “I don’t know. Traunt Rowan or Pyson Wence, I suppose. Didn’t you fly in with them? How did you get here?” The disapproving frown was back. “Where did you say you had been?”

But she was already moving away, giving him a perfunctory wave as she did so. She couldn’t believe her luck. She knew now that the ringleader of the conspirators was away, so Pen would not be touched until she returned. That gave her a small measure of time in which to act. She also knew that Pen’s parents were no longer prisoners in the Keep, so that the boy, if she could free him, would be able to go into the Forbidding without fear of reprisal against his captive family. But she had to find Pen quickly if he was to have his chance.

“Wait up! Stay where you are!”