The High Druid's Blade (The Defenders of Shannara, #1)(10)

Now they were standing in a cluster of sad-looking flower gardens that filled the space between the wall and Dark House. Moving straight across the gardens to the building in a crouch, they turned left to find a small window set between two larger banks. Paxon twisted the latch, and the window opened easily. Indicating that Jayet should go first, he boosted her through the opening, then pulled himself up behind her.

They were in a cluttered storage room that appeared to serve as a pantry. At least, that was what they could see by the dim glow cast from the streetlights outside the wall. Paxon moved to the doorway, stood listening for a few moments, cracked the door, and peered out. Then, beckoning for Jayet to follow him, he stepped through into the room beyond.

They were in a kitchen now, but it was empty and dark. They moved through it cautiously, not wanting to bump up against anything. After agonizing seconds of maneuvering in the near dark, they reached a door that opened into a servants’ eating area and from there into a hallway beyond.

Paxon was sweating now, adrenaline rushing through him, his fear and excitement held in precarious balance. He could feel the weight of the Sword of Leah across his back, pressing against him uncomfortably, but it gave him reassurance that, if caught out, he would have a chance to fight his way free. Because Arcannen had been so open about telling Grehling to offer directions, Paxon knew the sorcerer would be ready for him. Somehow, somewhere, he would be waiting. Maybe personally, maybe using magic—but there was little chance Arcannen would be caught off guard.

The best he could hope for was that he could avoid any traps, find his sister, set her free, and maybe get all of them out of there before Arcannen knew what was happening.

It was not a particularly reasonable expectation, but nothing about any of this was reasonable at this point.

He was so deep in thought he almost missed hearing the approach of the roving guard, and only barely managed to flatten himself within the narrow recessed space of a closed doorway before the man appeared. Jayet kept walking, pretending nothing was wrong, that she belonged and was on her way to somewhere specific.

“No walking around after hours,” the guard snapped at her as she reached him. “You know the rules.”

She slowed, moving just past him, causing him to turn so that he was looking away from Paxon. “I must have lost track of time. I was thirsty.”

“There is water in your room. Are you new here?”

She nodded. “Just got in. You’re kind of cute.”

Then Paxon clubbed him from behind, and he dropped like a stone. Jayet slowed the man’s fall enough to muffle any noise, and after trying a few doors found a closet and helped drag him inside. Using cleaning rags, Paxon bound and gagged him and lashed him in place to some iron shelves. Not a perfect solution, but it would have to do.

Leaving the closet, they continued down the hall until they found a set of stairs. They climbed to the next floor and stopped when they heard signs of activity behind the doors of the rooms down the hall. When it was quiet again, they continued up to the top floor. It was an attic space, and there were only three doors: two to either side and one at the end. The last was padlocked and chained.

Paxon moved over to it quickly, put his ear against the door, and listened. No sound came from within.

He exchanged a quick glance with Jayet and shook his head. But it was the only door locked, so there was reason to think it was the right one, and he had to take a look. Which meant he had to smash the lock and break it down. But first he decided to peek inside the other two, just to be sure. He moved over to each as quietly as he could, cracking the doors and peering inside. Bedrooms, both of them, sparsely furnished, walls bare, windows shuttered.

The one on the right was empty.

Chrysallin was in the one on the left.

So was Arcannen.





[page]FOUR




PAXON FROZE, AND FOR AN INSTANT HE WAS UNDECIDED ABOUT what he should do. It had never occurred to him that Arcannen might be with his sister when he found her. She was tied to the bed, spread-eagled and lashed in place, her mouth gagged. Her gaze found his, eyes wide and staring and frightened. She was dressed in the clothes she had been wearing when taken and did not appear to have been harmed.

But appearances could be deceptive, he reminded himself.

Jayet was still outside the room, so he moved to block the entry to hide her from Arcannen. He was trying to think of something to say to warn her when the sorcerer saved him the trouble.

“Don’t look so surprised, Paxon. We’ve been waiting for you since nightfall. She said you would come, and I believed her. Too bad for you, isn’t it?”

Paxon closed the door behind him. Smokeless lamps on the nightstand and on the wall bracketing a large mirror across from the bed lent sufficient light for him to see clearly. Arcannen was sitting on the bed next to his sister, his black robes wrapped about him. His small, pinched features were crinkled with amusement, his black eyes bright and eager.

“You should have taken my advice and stayed home, boy. This probably won’t end well for you.”

Paxon held his gaze. “Maybe you are the one it won’t end well for.”

“That seems unlikely. Have you discovered who I am? Did the boy at the airfield catch you? He was supposed to give you directions.”

Paxon ignored the questions. “What do you want with my sister, anyway? Isn’t this going to an awful lot of trouble for one girl?”