So he had been right to be cautious. Arik Siq was setting traps, intent on putting an end to any attempt at pursuit. He wasn’t running blindly, after all. He had taken time to stop and construct this ambush, knowing it would be dark before anyone following got this far.
Pan looked down at the black staff. The more important revelation was here. That the staff’s magic had warned him of the danger was a complete surprise. Pan hadn’t summoned the magic or even thought to do so. He had never considered the possibility that the staff might be able to act unilaterally. He had assumed all along it only responded to the commands of the user. But the unbidden warning he had been given demonstrated clearly how wrong he was.
Perhaps, he thought suddenly, summoning the magic wasn’t even necessary. Perhaps the magic responded to something more complex and personal. To the user itself? To the user’s immediate circumstances?
He took a deep breath and exhaled.
Was the staff in some way sentient?
He didn’t know. He couldn’t be sure. Not yet, not on the strength of a single event.
But the possibility was there, right in front of him. The staff might be more than a tool of magic. It might be an extension of the bearer himself.
The way forward made safe, he started off again, more slowly now, watching for traps. He descended from the pass and into the foothills, passing out of the snow line and entering the forests below. Once or twice, he found footprints left by a Troll going in the same direction and knew them to be fresh—made within the last few hours. He followed them by staying off to one side, keeping close enough to read them but not so close as to put himself directly on top of them. There had been one trap set; he would likely find more.
Less than an hour had passed when he realized suddenly that even though it was fully dark, he could see the ground ahead clearly. The moon, almost full and rising in the east, was a dim presence in a heavily clouded sky. He should be having trouble tracking on a night like this. Yet he could see Arik Siq’s tracks. How could that be? He scanned the sky and the horizons for some sign of ambient light and found nothing. It was his own vision that was providing the light; he could read sign ten times better than he had ever been able to before.
The staff, he thought at once. It was the magic of the black staff that was doing this.
Yet the staff’s runes were dark, and the heat that had emanated from its wood earlier was gone. Still, something was happening. His instincts, always good, were unusually sharp and he was attuned to everything around him. The staff was enhancing his natural abilities so that even in almost total darkness, he would find what he was looking for.
He felt a sudden rush of elation. The magic was responding to him after all, just not in the way he had imagined it would. Taking up the staff as Sider Ament had asked was all that was necessary to make the magic his. He felt relief mixed with caution. He had formed a connection with the magic, but he must not take for granted that he knew all there was to know about what it could do or how it would respond. Time and experience would teach him more. For now, he needed to remember he was new at this and did not fully understand the magic’s nuances and intricacies.
But maybe he understood enough to track down Arik Siq.
He picked up his pace, determined to find out.
PAN HUNTED FOR ARIK SIQ ALL THE REST OF THE night, tracking him steadily through the enveloping darkness and the curtains of mist that rose off the valley floor. For a time, it seemed he would not catch him, his efforts hampered by the latter’s skill at hiding his passing, at concealing his tracks by using tricks well known to Pan but difficult to unmask nevertheless. The Drouj clearly had experience and talent in this area, something that Pan found increasingly troubling. He had envisioned a quick end to his pursuit once he discovered he had the staff’s magic to enhance his abilities and instincts. He had not believed that his adversary would prove to be much of a problem.
The chase wore on past midnight as Arik Siq descended out of the high country toward the upper rim of the valley floor. He stayed well away from the villages and towns, skirting places where he might be seen, keeping to the woods and less traveled paths.
He was working his way east again, an indication that he intended to try making his escape a different way, perhaps through Aphalion. Pan found this odd, given he must at least suspect the Elves knew of his deception by now and would be guarding the pass.
But the Troll’s steady progress in that direction seemed a clear indication of his intentions.
Until, abruptly, his trail disappeared altogether.
It happened right at the beginning of a particularly rocky stretch where tracks would have been hard to locate under the best of circumstances. Panterra walked out onto the flats, searched the ground carefully, and found nothing. He crossed all the way to the far side, a distance of several hundred yards, and still found nothing. Even in the softer earth that lay beyond, there were no marks. He walked back again, hoping to sense something with the aid of the staff’s magic.