Bloodfire Quest (The Dark Legacy of Shannara, #2)(41)

“I’m your friend.”

“That doesn’t mean you have the right to question me like this. I am the one who needs to deal with Austrum, not you. Let it go.”

He did not want to let it go. He wanted to see dismay and regret from her, not acceptance. She had been forcibly violated and did not seem much concerned about it. It was maddening.

He glanced over to where the Rover was sleeping next to Skint and Seersha. The Speakman was dead; there hadn’t been time to save him once their attackers dragged him out from under the overhang. The last of the Trolls had died during the night. Farshaun, however, had recovered. He was sitting off to the other side of the sleepers, just far enough away that he couldn’t hear what they were saying.

“They won’t come again before nightfall,” Railing said, trying to regain his footing. He did not want her to be angry with him. “Whatever they are.”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to bet on that. We need to get out of here before then.”

“Maybe Austrum’s right. Maybe the Walker Boh will find us before then.” He glanced up at the thick blanket of mist and was immediately discouraged. Nothing could find its way through that. “Or maybe he has a way to signal her. He said the flashes of magic caught his eye and guided him down to us.”

But mostly down to her, he knew. He had come for her, and it made him crazy to know that she understood it as well as he did and was doing nothing about it.

“It’s a big place,” she responded absently. “The storm blew the airship off course. Austrum took a big risk when he left to come look for us. A foolish risk. I don’t know what the others will choose to do.”

“Maybe we should send him back up there to look for them,” he suggested.

“Maybe you should stop talking about him.”

Seersha was awake now, on her feet and stretching. Her black cloak was ripped and dirty, her face a mask of harsh lines and rough determination that made her look dangerous. She walked through the dead creatures to the edge of the precipice and looked over. Mirai rose and went to join her. Railing, hampered by his leg and exhausted from the struggle, stayed where he was. It was his turn to sleep after having kept guard all night. But it was Mirai’s time, too, and he stubbornly refused to lie down until she was beside him.

He closed his eyes against his weariness and dismay, feeling suddenly alone and abandoned. Redden was gone and Mirai felt removed and distant and he was sick at heart because of it. He hated that he had come on this expedition and hated even more that he had been the one who had pushed for all of them to come. He had thought it would be such a big adventure. Now he just wanted things back the way they had been before, with the three of them returned to Patch Run and the Highlands of Leah. He wanted Mirai’s attentions focused on him, and he wanted Austrum gone. He wanted them all safe, and he was beginning to think that might never happen.

Then he realized how he sounded and was instantly ashamed. This wasn’t like him. The brothers had never been the sort to feel sorry for themselves or whine about their situations. They had never despaired of being able to work things out.

What is happening to me?

Farshaun ambled over and sat next to him. He had a nasty wound on his head and bruises on his face. “You need to sleep, Railing. You look terrible.”

The boy nodded. “I know that.”

“You did well last night. You saved us all. You and Seersha.”

“Not the Speakman, we didn’t.”

The old man nodded. “No, not him. But I don’t think he expected to be saved. He came here to die. Maybe he believed his own prophecy enough to want it to come to pass. We did what we could to prevent it from happening, but sometimes there just isn’t any way. And maybe he was right and none of us is coming back from this.”

The boy stayed silent, watching Mirai return across the precipice. When she reached them, she knelt down and embraced him and kissed him on the cheek. “Let’s be friends again, Railing. Let’s not argue about things that don’t matter.”

He couldn’t help himself. He nodded and smiled gratefully. “I want that, too. I’m sorry about before.”

She leaned in again and this time kissed him on the mouth. “It’s forgotten. You told me how you felt. I understand. I worry about you, too.”

He wasn’t sure she did understand, but he didn’t want to say so. It was enough that they were talking again and not angry at each other. He knew he was being foolish; all this nonsense about Austrum would pass. Once they were out of this place and on their way home, things would go back to the way they had been.

Seersha had turned and was heading toward them when she abruptly stopped and looked back. A soft white glow was emanating from somewhere below the precipice. Seersha moved back over to the edge and then quickly beckoned to the others. Railing, in spite of his exhaustion and the damage to his leg, levered himself to his feet with Mirai’s help and hobbled over to where the Druid knelt. When he peered over he saw a bright splash of light spilling out of a cleft in the rocks.

“Shades!” Mirai Leah hissed.

A moment later Crace Coram passed through the light and stood looking up at them.





12





With the new day brightening in a haze of gray mist and dull light and the remnants of the Druid expedition gathered about him, Crace Coram told his story. He had climbed up to the ledge to join the little company, the light through which he had passed having disappeared the moment he emerged from it. Now they were arrayed in a tight circle—Railing, Mirai, Seersha, Skint, and Farshaun Req—listening intently to the Dwarf Chieftain.