The Measure of the Magic: Legends of Shannara

HE HAD TOLD THEM he was going, but he hadn’t told them where. Sleep was necessary, but it would have to wait. Instead, he went straight to Aislinne Kray to tell her about Sider. He wasn’t looking forward to doing this and would have preferred that someone else carry the news. But he didn’t feel right leaving it up to Pogue, who would at least in some measure be relieved that the Gray Man was out of her life forever.

So he walked the familiar roadways and paths of the village—this new bearer of the black staff every bit as tattered and spectral as Sider Ament had ever looked, no better in appearance than the poorest beggar—until he had reached Aislinne’s home and was standing at her door.

He took a deep breath, exhaled, and knocked softly.

“Panterra,” she gasped when she opened the door and saw him. She took in the wreckage of his appearance, and then her eyes found the black staff he was holding and she sagged visibly. “He’s dead, isn’t he,” she whispered.

He nodded. “Two days ago, at Declan Reach. Poisoned darts from a blowgun. He was caught by surprise and he couldn’t …”

She held up one hand quickly. “Stop. Don’t say anything more. It’s enough to know that he’s gone.”

He looked down at his feet, embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. But let it alone.”

“Your name was the last word he spoke.”

She was crying now, not bothering to hide it. “Look at you. What did you have to go through to get back here?” She took his arm and led him inside, closing the door behind him. She led him over to a chair and sat him down. “Wait here.”

She disappeared for a few minutes and then was back with clean cloths, hot water, and bandages. She knelt in front of him and cleaned his wounds and bound them up, not saying anything as she did so, absorbed in her task. Panterra let her be. He knew enough to keep quiet while she struggled to come to terms with the news.

“Does Pogue know?” she asked as she was finishing up, getting ready to take away the bloodied water and cloths.

“I went to him first. Skeal Eile was there, too.”

She said nothing more as she picked up the water and cloths and carried them out of the room. She was gone for several minutes this time, and he sat thinking on what he had said he would do to find Esselline and how all along he had intended to do something else completely. He wondered if he should tell Aislinne. What would she think of him?

When she came back into the room, she took a seat across from him, hands folded in her lap. “I see that he did not keep his word to me. Even at the end, he failed.”

“What do you mean?”

She gestured at the staff. “He persuaded you to take that. I begged him not to. I told him your life was your own and not his to manipulate. But it didn’t matter. He had made up his mind about you. Now you will carry the staff and do his work.”

“I made the choice. He didn’t have any hold on me when he asked it of me. It was at the end of things. He was dying, and he needed someone to take the staff from him. I took it because I knew what it would mean to refuse when so much threatens the valley and our people. I couldn’t just walk away, Aislinne. I can’t pretend the need isn’t there when I know it is.”

She sighed. “No, I suppose not. I think it was like that for him, too.” She shook her head. “I just know what it means when you carry the staff, Panterra. I know what it will do to you, to any plans you might have for your life. It becomes the reason for everything. You give up so much.”

He knew it was so. He supposed he had always known. It was why he had been so reticent even to consider the idea. He might have managed to avoid taking on the responsibility for it if the Gray Man hadn’t been dying right in front of him—and if his own guilt for his part in it hadn’t been so strong. Not only about Sider, who had died defending him, but about Prue, as well. Leaving her behind, coming back without her, doing nothing as yet to save her—it was too much for him to bear. He knew that. He understood what he had done and what he must now do.

“I have something else to tell you, Aislinne,” he said finally. “Something you won’t like. I brought back the man who killed Sider. His name is Arik Siq. He is the son of the Drouj Maturen whose army threatens the valley. Pogue has agreed to hold him prisoner so that we can use him to bargain with. I think Pogue will do the right thing, but I am not sure about the Seraphic. Will you do what you can to make sure Pogue doesn’t go back on his promise to me?”

She nodded slowly. “It won’t be easy, but I will try. Pogue’s word is usually good, but he is heavily under the influence of Skeal Eile. The council might intervene, as well.

Where will you be if this happens?”

He hesitated. “I said I would find out if Hadrian Esselline is coming to help us as he promised. Pogue worries that the people of Glensk Wood are not strong enough by themselves to stop an attack at Declan Reach if it comes. He is right to worry. I have seen the size of the Drouj army.”

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