The High Druid's Blade (The Defenders of Shannara, #1)(73)

Ambitious, yes. Impossible, no. It could be done, and he was in the process of doing it. If nothing further occurred to disrupt his already somewhat entangled plans, he would accomplish it within the month. And once he had done so, the benefits would be enormous. With the active support of his spy inside the order and the services he intended to exact from the recalcitrant and unreliable Fashton Caeil, he would become, overnight, the most powerful magic user in the Four Lands. He would be nicely positioned to see either the total destruction of the order or its rebuilding under his leadership.

He had barely completed that thought when one of the men he had sent out earlier appeared in the doorway, out of breath and redfaced.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quickly.

“That Highlander is back. With one of the Druids. I just saw them land at the airfield. They’re on their way here. I ran all the way, just ahead of them, to tell you.”

Arcannen nodded, staying calm. “Go back downstairs and get something to eat. Stay there.”

When the man was gone, Arcannen considered his options. He wanted the Highlander and his sword, but the presence of a Druid complicated things sufficiently that he didn’t think engaging them at this point would be a good idea. Since he no longer had the sister, he had nothing with which to bargain. He could pretend he did, but it would be better to wait until he had the girl back in hand.

He picked up the charts and shoved them into a deep drawer, closed and locked it, and put the key in his pocket. If he hurried, he could get out of Dark House before they arrived. This is where they would come, searching for him, but if he wasn’t here they would be at a loss as to what to do. There were plenty of places he could go to ground until they lost interest or word reached him that Chrysallin was recovered.

Of course, there was always the danger they would stumble on a wandering Chrysallin Leah, but even that might work to his advantage. The boy would want to keep his sister safe. He would know he could not do that in Leah. So he would take her to Paranor and the Druids. Things would proceed from there as he had planned.

Meanwhile, he could put his time to better use. There were other pieces to his plan that needed setting in place.

He finished putting everything away, walked to the door, and peered out into the hallway. No one was visible. They couldn’t have gotten there this fast anyway, he chided himself. Why was he worrying about it? He went out into the passageway, started for the main stairs, and paused. Just in case, maybe he should avoid the main entrance.

He turned about and went the other way.

When he reached the back stairs, he started down.


Several blocks away, Chrysallin Leah was dreaming. She had fallen asleep again finally, exhausted from her struggle to remain awake, but had succumbed at last to the horror that waited. The gray-haired Elven woman was back, pursuing her through woods that were deep and dark and monster-haunted. She was everywhere Chrysallin looked, and it made no difference where the girl went or what she tried to do to escape. Her tormentor was always there, close at hand.

Other things hunted her, as well, their bodies shapeless and their faces blank and empty of expression. They crept through the shadows and out of dark holes. They dropped down from trees and walked out of walls of mist. They did not speak, but their intentions were clear. Even absent a show of teeth and claws, she knew they meant to hurt her. And she was already in so much pain, her body torn and ripped, her insides bruised and bleeding. No part of her had been left untouched when the Elven woman and her voiceless henchmen had tortured her earlier, and she remembered every last thing they had done to her.

So she darted here and there, turned this way and that, dodged the creatures that came at her, each time just barely avoiding them. But their pursuit was relentless, and she could not get clear. The chase went on and on, and her frantic, useless efforts drove her half mad …

Wake up!

Hands were on her, shaking her, holding her fast. She tried to cry out, but fingers sealed her mouth and would not let her.

“Chrysallin!” a voice hissed. Her eyes flew open, and Grehling’s face was right next to hers. “We have to go!”

She was hopelessly confused, still wrapped within the remnants of her dream. Where was she? The boy—she knew him, could almost speak his name—who was he? She tried to sit up, but her body screamed with pain, and she lay down again at once.

“Chrysallin, look at me!” he snapped, taking hold of her shoulders. “The witch is after us! Mischa! She’s sent something to find us. It’s right outside the door!”

She went cold all over at the mention of Mischa, and recognition came flooding back in a series of images and memories. Ignoring the pain, she struggled up, his strong hands helping her to her feet. A faint wash of light penetrated the curtains covering the front window, and she caught a glimpse of something big and black moving past, just outside the building wall.

The creatures in the dreams! They’ve found me!

Panic surged through her, and she backed away hurriedly, looking around for an escape. She saw Leofur Rai then, standing not six feet away, facing the door, a sleek metallic weapon cradled in her arms, pointed forward. Chrysallin had never seen anything like it. It was encased in black metal with a stock and barrel, and she could see Leofur’s finger resting on a trigger near the joinder of the two.

The young woman glanced over and gestured with her head. “Get out of here, both of you! Go down the trapdoor in the floor behind you. Go now!”