The Measure of the Magic: Legends of Shannara

You and your Elf friends, both.”


“Sooner or later, the Drouj are going to find their way in anyway,” Pan pointed out.

“We can’t pretend it won’t happen. Which is why Sider thought it so important to fortify the passes at Aphalion and Declan Reach. The Elves have done their part, but Declan Reach is unprotected with its defenders all dead. More have to be sent, Pogue. Right away.”

The big man nodded. “I don’t need you to tell me that. But what about the help we were promised from those who live south? No one has come to stand with us. Not even Esselline. We cannot be expected to do this alone. Perhaps the Seraphic is right: some sort of accord with the invaders is required, if only to stall them until we get help.”

“They will not bargain, and they cannot be trusted to keep their word even if they do.” Pan looked down at the slumped form of Arik Siq. “They have built a reputation for treachery. If we even think of trusting them, we are fools. We need to wait for Esselline.

He will come. Sider was sure of it.”

“The Gray Man is dead,” Skeal Eile snapped.

Panterra held his temper in check. “So it is left to us to be as selfless and strong-minded as he was.” He turned to Pogue Kray, an idea suddenly taking shape. “What of this? What if you keep Taureq Siq’s son a prisoner, locked away and not allowed out for any reason? The stronger the prison, the better; he is clever and dangerous. While you hold him, I will travel south to meet with Esselline and be certain he is coming. After that, we can discuss how best to deal with the Drouj.”

Panterra was telling them a dreadful lie, and he felt no small amount of guilt in doing so. But he couldn’t stop to worry about that. Desperate circumstances demanded desperate measures. He might indeed go to Esselline, as he had said, but first he intended to go after Prue. Somehow he must find a way to reach her and, if he could, rescue her. Failing that, he would bargain for her life in exchange for Arik Siq’s. He still did not believe the Maturen would kill his own son; he had made that determination some time back, in spite of what Arik said. The latter would say anything if he thought it might gain him his freedom.

As for protecting the secret of the passes, he would find a way to do that, too. But he would not abandon Prue.

“Also,” he added, “someone should go to the Elves and let them know what’s happened. They guard Aphalion, and we must work with them if we are to keep the Drouj out of the valley.”

“I will go,” Skeal Eile volunteered quickly, speaking directly to Pogue Kray, ignoring Pan. “I promised Sider Ament I would stand with him in this, and I keep my promises.

Even though I think this boy should not have been given the staff or be listened to just because he carries it, I know we are all agreed on the danger that threatens. I will speak to Oparion Amarantyne and his Queen on our behalf and make certain we are united.”

Pan could not object without looking foolish, and so he kept still. Pogue was enthusiastic, clasping the Seraphic by his shoulders and telling him how much this meant. Pan thought he caught the latter casting a veiled glance in his direction, but impaired by his exhaustion he couldn’t be certain. He wondered momentarily if there wasn’t something else at work here, something he didn’t know about. But the moment passed, and Pogue was speaking again.

“I will gather a fresh detachment of men from the village to clear Declan Reach of the dead and to occupy the defenses until further help comes. I will go with them myself.

The council can act for me in my absence. But you need to travel quickly, Panterra. Find Esselline and any who might be coming with him and tell them we are at great risk and to hurry.”

Pan straightened. “I will leave at once.”



“Don’t be stupid,” Skeal Eile snapped. “Look at you. Any fool can see you wouldn’t get five miles in your condition. You need to sleep for at least twelve hours. Rested, you might have a chance of getting the job done.”

“He is right, Panterra,” Pogue agreed immediately. “You’ve been through a lot. Go to bed. Sleep as long as you need to and leave when you wake.”

“You’ll make sure Arik Siq is locked away and guarded well?” he asked, glancing down one final time at his prisoner.

Pogue nodded. “You have my word.”

Pan leaned on the black staff momentarily, wondering if there was anything left undone, anything forgotten. He could think of nothing.

“I’m going, then,” he said, and went out the door and into the brightness of the new day.

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