Bloodfire Quest (The Dark Legacy of Shannara, #2)(35)

“What have you decided to do about the Ard Rhys’s party once the airship finds us?” she asked Seersha, who was huddled within her black cloak, nose and mouth tucked down inside its heavy folds.

The Dwarf’s eyes shifted to find her. “Wait here with Skint until they come back. Or until they contact us. We’ll have to ask you to come back for us once you’ve gotten Railing and the others safely out.”

“But you have no idea where they are, do you?”

Seersha shook her head. “Skint looked, but he couldn’t find a trace of them. Couldn’t find the crevice they went into. Couldn’t find the waterfall that isn’t a waterfall.”

“Redden will find a way back,” Railing said, his voice muted by a burst of wind. “He has the wishsong to help him. He’ll use it to find a way if things get too ugly.”

No one said anything to that. Mirai knew what they were thinking. What if there wasn’t a way back from wherever Redden and the others had gone? What if the company was trapped? It seemed clear enough that magic had lured them in, but maybe even magic wasn’t enough to get them out.

“Here, eat some of this,” she offered, pulling out packets of white paper in which bits of something hard had been carefully wrapped.

Seersha opened hers and ate it. “Honey candy. Where did you get honey candy, Mirai Leah?”

“I made it.” She grinned at the Druid, who was passing pieces down the line to the others in the company. “I carry it with me for occasions just like this one.”

“What a liar!” Railing exclaimed.

Seersha laughed. “Guess you were thinking farther ahead than the rest of us.”

“I think farther ahead than some.” She glanced over at Railing, who crunched his piece of candy noisily.

They waited out the storm, which lasted most of the rest of the day, and then Skint disappeared up into the rocks, searching for a better defensive position. The precipice on which they were settled was adequate, but it was too broad for six—now seven—defenders to continue to hold against the hordes of attackers they had been fighting off. Sooner or later, they would be overwhelmed. Mirai hadn’t said anything to Seersha of their chances of being found, but she guessed the Druid had already surmised the problem and decided to act on what she perceived to be the unfavorable odds.

With the approach of sunset, Mirai helped Railing to his feet and walked him to the cliff edge, where they stood looking out over the rumpled blanket of trees and rocks amid the jagged stone towers of the Fangs. Everything was sodden and wrapped in trailers of mist and looked to be better suited for the dead than the living.

“How bad is your leg?” she asked. “Does it hurt much?”

Railing shook his head, staring off distractedly. “I should have gone with him. We should have stayed together.”

She nodded. “We should have stayed home. All three of us.”

“He left while I was unconscious. I wouldn’t have let him go otherwise. I don’t know why he did it.”

“He did what he thought he had to do.” She put her arm around him. “He did what he thought was the right thing. He’s like that. You’re both like that.”

Railing looked unconvinced. “If anything happens to him—”

“Nothing will happen,” she interrupted quickly. “Redden is tough and smart. He’ll find a way. And if he doesn’t, we’ll find a way for him. You and me. We won’t abandon him.”

He looked over at her. His face was suddenly stricken. “I’m sorry we ever asked you to come with us. I wish you weren’t here, Mirai.”

She gave him a look. “Maybe we should stop talking about this. It’s all said and done, anyway. I’m here. You and Redden are here. We can’t do anything about it. Regretting it now doesn’t do much to make things better.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “We just have to help each other get through this.”

He nodded. “Just get home again, right? Just get back.”

She left her arm draped around his shoulder and looked out over the wilderness, trying not to think about what that meant. “Just get back,” she repeated quietly.

Skint returned just before sunset, weary and discouraged. There wasn’t anywhere else they could make a stand that was any better than where they were. They would have to stay put for another night. Seersha nodded grimly and gathered the others together, explaining how they would position themselves when night fell. She asked Railing to take one side of the precipice while she took the other, dividing their use of magic equally. Mirai and Farshaun would stand with Railing. Skint and the last of the Trolls would stand with her. They would put their backs to the wall of the overhang, their defensive line reduced to less than a dozen yards. There was no longer any point in trying to defend the precipice. Their attackers could not be kept off the heights—the past two nights had shown them that much.

She did not mention the Speakman. There was no need to. Everyone already knew how useless he would be. He had lapsed into a state approaching catatonia, barely able to converse with Farshaun and seemingly unaware of any of the others. It had been a mistake to bring him, Mirai knew. He wasn’t up to this. He crouched in the lea of the overhang, hunkered down with his face averted, muttering and hugging himself.

“He’s never going to be the same after this,” Railing muttered to her at one point.