The High Druid of Shannara Trilogy

She wheeled about, astonished to find the Druid she had thought left behind chasing after her down the corridor, black robes flying out behind him. One arm came up as if in challenge, a sense of urgency to the motion, his heavy brow furrowed more deeply than ever.

Having no choice but to deal with him, she stood her ground. “Who did you say you were?” he demanded, panting and out of breath as he reached her. “How is it you happen to have been aboard an airship bringing back the Ohmsford boy when …”

Khyber braced her feet, cocked her fist, and hit him so hard she knocked him backwards into the wall. She was on him instantly, hauling him up with one hand while putting a dagger to his throat with the other.

“Not another word,” she hissed at him. “Not unless I tell you to speak. If you yell for help, I’ll cut you chin-to-navel before you finish. Do you understand me?”

She had never seen such fear in another’s eyes as she saw in his. His throat worked as he tried unsuccessfully to speak and finally settled for nodding.

“You don’t know who I am and you don’t want to,” she told him softly, her eyes locking on his, making sure he did not misjudge her determination. “Behave yourself, do what you’re told and you might stay alive. Now listen carefully. I want you to take me down to the cells where they keep the prisoners. Don’t speak to anyone we pass on the way. Don’t try signaling for help. Am I clear?”

She was only a girl, but the Druid she held pinned against the wall saw her as infinitely more dangerous than he was, and he nodded vigorously. “One thing more,” she said to him. “I have the use of magic, just as you do. I understand its complexities. If you try to use your own, even secretly, I will know.”

He found his voice again. “You’ve come for the Ohmsford boy.”

She put her face inches from his own. “He means a lot to me. So much so that if something bad happens to him now, something much worse will happen to you. What I intend for him is safe passage out of here. If you interfere with me, I will kill you.”

His face was bloodless, his eyes wide. “Don’t hurt me.”

“I won’t if you don’t make me. Now, which way?”

He pointed, his hand shaking. She pulled him away from the wall and marched him back down the cavernous hall, the dagger at his back, her free hand gripping his arm. They moved quickly, following the corridor to its end, turned into another, followed that for a time, then turned into a third. They passed no one on their way. They heard no movements or voices that would indicate the presence of others. What she was doing was madness, an impulsive act that could end badly for her, but at least she was getting to where she wanted to go. Someone would have had to tell her, and it might as well be someone under her control. Her eyes darted left and right as she walked, to every crevice and alcove, to every closed door. She kept waiting for her luck to run out. She kept waiting for things to go bad.

They reached a broad stairwell leading down and her prisoner hesitated.

“Keep moving,” she whispered, nudging him with the tip of the dagger.

They descended carefully, Khyber watching the bend in the wall ahead for shadows cast by torchlight. None appeared. At the bottom of the stairwell, they reached an anteroom that served as a hub for five different corridors leading off like the spokes of a wheel.

A Gnome Hunter sat facing them from behind a table, his wizened face unreadable. Farther down the corridor at his back, torchlight cast the shadow of a second guard against the stone-block wall.

Keeping one hand firmly attached to her reluctant companion, Khyber moved over to the Gnome at the table. “We’ve been sent to speak with the boy,” she said, again using the Callahorn dialect. “Where is he?”

The Gnome Hunter stared at her, clearly surprised by her demand. Then he shook his head. “No one sees him. I have my orders.”

“Orders from Traunt Rowan,” she snapped. “Who do you think sent us here? Now take us to the boy. Or do you want me to drag him down here to tell you for himself?”

The threat cut off whatever reply the Gnome was about to make, and he simply nodded. “Someone should tell me these things. I can’t know them otherwise.” He paused. “You just want to speak with the boy?”

She shrugged dismissively. “He won’t be leaving his cell, if that’s what you are asking.”

He rose doubtfully, reached under the table to produce a ring of keys, and led them down the hallway. Khyber felt the beginnings of some resistance on the part of her reluctant companion and shoved him ahead.