The High Druid's Blade (The Defenders of Shannara, #1)(40)
She shrugged. “He takes too many chances. He’s brave, and he’s strong, so he thinks nothing can hurt him.”
“Like the creature that’s doing these killings?”
She hesitated. “Maybe. Maybe something else.”
She looked over at him and then without warning kissed him on the mouth, her hands gripping his arms to hold him to her. When she released him, there was a smile on her lips. “Did you like it?”
He smiled back. “Of course. But why kiss me?”
“Because. I told you already. You are nice. I like you.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“You don’t kiss people because you know them. You kiss them because you want to.”
He wasn’t sure that was so for most people, but maybe it was for her. They sat together in silence for a few moments, and then he said, “Why do you think your friend was killed by the creature?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe he did something to make it angry. Maybe he did something he shouldn’t have.”
“What about the other people? Did they all do something to make it angry?”
“I wouldn’t know. I’m only guessing.” She looked at him again. “Do you think it killed them for no reason?”
“I don’t know why it kills. Maybe it was random. Maybe it just kills because it likes killing.”
“That would make it difficult to find, wouldn’t it?” she asked. “How would you ever find it? Unless you happened to be right there when it tried to kill someone, you never could.”
“Oh, we’ll find it,” he replied.
Starks and her father were coming back from the mill, their dark forms emerging from the darkness. “Do you want me to come back tomorrow?” he asked her suddenly.
She leaned into him. “Yes. Father will be gone for several hours in the early afternoon, making deliveries. We could talk more then.” She hesitated. “I have things I need to tell you.”
She stood suddenly, pulling him up with her. “I like you, Paxon. I like you a lot.”
Then she turned and ran back inside the cabin and did not come out again.
[page]TWELVE
AT NOON OF THE FOLLOWING DAY, PAXON RODE OUT ALONE TO the old mill, taking his time as he went. The day was gray and cloudy, the smell of rain in the air, the dampness palpable on the chilly wind that blew down out of the north. Paxon was thinking about what waited, his mind on unanswered questions, some of which he would ask, some he might not. The answers he anticipated receiving did not put him in a good mood. His suspicions were aroused, had been so since last night, and his expectation of what he would find out today depressed him. But he was protector for the Druids, and so he would do what he knew he must to put an end to the creature.
He had talked it over with Starks after they had returned from Crombie Joh’s mill yesterday, deeply concerned for the girl Iantha, worried that she was in considerable danger. It seemed obvious to him by now that the miller was the creature they were hunting, and his daughter knew it and was looking for a way to get away from him. Starks wondered why she hadn’t been attacked before now, though he guessed maybe her father could distinguish between her and anyone else when he was the creature. But he agreed after hearing the details of her conversation with Paxon that there was cause for concern for her welfare and that something needed to be done.
“If I can be alone with her for an hour—with no danger of her father interfering—I think I can find out the truth,” Paxon had insisted. “I think Iantha will tell me the truth.”
Starks wasn’t so sure, but he had agreed to let Paxon try. “You’ll have to go alone,” he had said. “She likely won’t talk to you if I’m there. But you be careful, Paxon. We still don’t know what’s happening here. I know you like this girl, but she may be more under her father’s control than you realize. She may even betray you to him.”
But Paxon did not think this was so, believing instead that this was a chance to help someone who desperately needed it. With his sword to protect him, he felt more than capable of carrying out his effort to uncover the truth.
As he neared the mill, he slowed his mount, careful to keep watch and to listen for the miller’s wagon. He believed the man had already gone to make his deliveries, but he couldn’t take anything for granted. If he was seen, he would have to turn back. He couldn’t let Joh discover he had been to visit Iantha secretly. Not without first knowing if his suspicions were correct.
But when he passed by the old mill and approached the cottage, he found Iantha waiting for him, already seated on the steps of the porch. She rushed up to him at once and took his hands in hers. “Tie up your horse in the trees across the way,” she told him, a note of urgency in her voice. “Father is already gone, but if he should come back early, he won’t know you’re here.”
Paxon did as she asked, then walked back over to the porch to sit with her. She went into the house and returned again with glasses of cold ale and a plate of fresh bread. “I’m so glad you came back, Paxon,” she said, sitting close to him. “I feel so much better when you’re here.” She glanced at him shyly. “You must think me very forward.”
“I think you are scared,” he replied, his eyes on her face. “I came back because I wanted to see you, but also because I am worried about you. Do you have something to say about that?”