The High Druid of Shannara Trilogy

“Now,” Khyber hissed, yanking Pen out of the shadows.

They raced for the stairway, black robes flying out behind them, watching as the pile of hapless Gnome Hunters rolled and thrashed about the floor, trying to free themselves from one another. One or two saw the pair run by and yelled in warning, but could not do anything about it. Before even one of them had regained his feet, Khyber and Pen were past them and racing up the stairs.

By the time they reached the upper floor, Pen was leading the way, flying up the steps and across the floor as he turned down the hall. Rounding the corner of the stairwell, Khyber glanced back over her shoulder. No one was following, but the guards were cursing and screaming and the sporadic flash of her entangling magic revealed that it was still holding them fast. Help would arrive quickly, though. She ran after Pen, who was pulling futilely at the iron handles of a pair of wooden doors that were carved with intricate symbols.

“Locked!” he screamed in frustration.

Khyber pulled him aside, took a moment to study the locks, found the magic that bound them too much for her, and stepped back, motioning Pen behind her. Using a skill Ahren had taught her long ago, she attacked the fastenings on the hinges, where the securing magic was weakest, loosening the bolts that held them, ripping free the outer stays. In moments, the doors had collapsed in a thunderous crash, giving them access to the room beyond.

They rushed into the chamber, Pen wheeling left and right, desperately searching for the missing staff. “Khyber, I don’t see it!”

“There,” she said, pointing toward the ceiling.

The staff hung suspended from a hook, threaded through with ropes of magic, bound securely in place and out of reach.

“Can you get it down?” the boy pleaded.

She shook her head. She could feel her heart pounding as desperation flooded through her. “The magic is too strong for me, too complex. I’m not skilled enough to break it.”

In frustration, he leapt for the staff, snatching at it with both hands. As he did so, the runes glowed like bits of fire, as if live coals were embedded in the polished wood. They were responding to his efforts to reach him, anxious for him to succeed.

“Pen, stop!” she exclaimed. “Let’s try something.”

She positioned herself beneath the darkwand, locked her hands together in front of her, palms-up, to form a cup, then said, “Step into my hands and I’ll boost you up. Grab one end of the staff and whatever happens, don’t let go.”

He did as she asked, waiting until she had braced herself, then stepping into her locked fingers. He was much heavier than he looked, and it took all her strength to boost him up and then hold him in place as he groped for the staff.

“I have it!” he shouted after what seemed an endless amount of time.

She released him with a gasp and left him dangling from the ceiling, both hands holding on to the staff. The runes were burning so fiercely it looked as if the wood might spontaneously ignite. But Pen did not seem to feel any pain, and the threads that secured the staff were beginning to shimmer and lose their brightness.

“It’s weakening, Pen! It’s giving way!”

There was a flurry of movement and the sound of boots in the hallway beyond. She whirled, summoned her magic almost without thinking, and turned it on a rush of Gnome Hunters who suddenly appeared in the gap where the doors used to be. A burst of wind materialized right in front of them, a huge gust that caught them up and sent them tumbling back down the hallway in a jumble of grunts and cries.

Behind her, in the face of the talisman’s need to serve Pen, the magic that chained the darkwand failed and the boy crashed to the floor. He scrambled up again almost at once.

“It worked, Khyber!” he exclaimed, beaming with excitement.

“Go,” she told him, gesturing. “Do what you have to, but go now. They’re coming.”

She turned back to the doorway, stepped to the opening, and sent another gust of wind sweeping down the hall toward the Gnome Hunters and a single black-cloaked Druid who had joined them.

When she glanced over her shoulder, Pen was running his hands up and down the staff as the glowing runes radiated spears of brilliance that chased back the darkness in all directions and surrounded the boy in a halo of fire. “It’s working, Khyber!” he shouted. “I can feel something pulling at me!”

She wasn’t sure what he meant or even if he understood what was actually happening, but she couldn’t do anything to help him in any case. Her attention reverted to the hallway, where something new was developing. A regrouping was taking place just out of her line of sight. She stepped to one side of the opening, trying to find shelter. She scanned the torchlit darkness beyond their refuge, searching for movement, readying herself for whatever was coming.

“Hurry, Penderrin!”

There was no response. When she glanced back to see what he was doing, he was gone.