Straken (50 page)

So she summoned the magic boldly, and when it surfaced she formed it into razor-sharp edges that would cut and sever and then sent them screaming into the weakened places in the net. The wishsong spun and ripped through the netting, overcoming momentary resistance from the enabling magic and slicing through strands until the cage sagged like soft rope. She kept at it, working at first one place and then another, and when she had the entire structure sufficiently weakened, she attacked it with such force that the triagenel disintegrated, and she blew out the entire north wall of the sleeping chamber. Stone blocks and debris exploded outward, and a huge cloud of dust mushroomed through the room.

Grianne covered her face, waited for the dust to settle, and then pulled Pen back to his feet. “Bek!” she shouted.

Her brother burst into the room with Rue Meridian, Tagwen, and an Elven girl she took to be Khyber Elessedil right behind. There was a quick exchange of grateful hugs between Pen and his parents and Khyber. Only Bek hugged her. Grianne saw dismay and shock reflected in their faces when they looked at her. She could even see pity.

“I’m all right,” she said to them.

Her brother shook his head. “You are not all right. Shadea a’Ru and all those others who betrayed you will pay for this. We will hunt them down. We will find out everything. But we have something else we have to talk about now, something that won’t wait. A demon was set free when you were taken. It’s still here, and it’s trying to break down the Forbidding.”

“I know of this,” she said.

“I thought as much. What you don’t know is that the only way to stop it is for Pen to find it and use the darkwand to return it, just as he used the staff to return you.”

“Penderrin has to do this?” she asked in surprise.

“The King of the Silver River said he must. Only the darkwand can complete the transfer from one world to the other, and only Pen can command the magic. I have to take him with us to find the demon.”

In the hallway outside the sleeping chamber door, there was new activity, the sound of running and of shouts.

“They’re coming,” she said to the others. She brought up her hands, summoned her magic once more, and sealed the door from the inside. “That will hold them for a few minutes, no more.” She turned back to Bek. “Take the others and go. You found your way here through the secret passageways—can you find your way back again?”

He nodded. “Between us, Tagwen and I can manage.”

“I’m not coming,” the Dwarf declared almost belligerently. “I belong here with the Ard Rhys.”

Grianne moved over to him quickly and knelt. “Yes, you do. But you must leave anyway. All of you must. There’s nothing you can do for me by staying. I have to face Shadea and the others alone. I am the one who can deal with them best. Only Bek might be able to help, but his place is with Pen, finding that demon and dispatching it. Listen to me.” She gripped the Dwarf’s shoulders tightly. “I’ve seen the inside of the Forbidding, Tagwen. It is a horror beyond anything you can imagine. If the creatures that live there were to be set free in this world, it would be the end of us all. You have to stop that from happening. Whatever becomes of me, you have to stop that.”

She held his gaze. Finally, he gave her a small nod, his bearded face twisted into an unhappy knot. “I will do this because you ask it,” he said quietly. “But not willingly.”

She turned at once to Pen. “This won’t be easy. You won’t know what you have to do until you find the demon. Perhaps you will have to find a way to get it to touch the staff. Perhaps it will take more. I wish I could tell you something helpful, but you know as much as I do about how it works. Trust your instincts, Pen. They won’t betray you.”

The boy nodded. “I don’t want to leave you, either.”

She smiled. “I’ll see you again. Just go. Do what you must. Do what is needed.” She looked around. “All of you. Go, now.”

They did so, one by one, disappearing through the door into the secret passageway, glancing back at her as they did, a mix of reluctance and dismay mirrored on their faces. Bek was the last to depart.

“Don’t let anything happen to you,” he said. “It’s taken too much
out of us getting you back to bear the thought of losing you again.” He paused. “I love you, Grianne.”

Then he pulled the door shut behind him and was gone, his words still echoing in her mind.

I love you, too
, she thought.

She turned back to the sleeping chamber and looked at the sealed door. She had come a long way to face what awaited her on the other side. She had fought hard for a chance to put things right. But all of a sudden, she was unsure if she could do so.

How odd
, she thought.

On the floor in front of her, the last strands of the ruined triagenel were slowly dissolving as their magic leached away. She stared for a moment, then caught sight of herself in the mirror and saw what Bek and the others had seen: a ghost, a tattered imitation of herself.

She walked to the closet on the other side of the room, opened it, and took out one of the robes hanging there, clean and sleekly black. She draped it around her shoulders and fastened it in place with the clasp she had fashioned in the shape of the Eilt Druin, the Druid chain of office, the symbol of their order.

Her enemies would see her this last time, she told herself, as she meant for them to see her. As leader. As Ard Rhys.

She fingered the clasp, tracing the raised image of a hand holding forth a burning torch. The meaning of the Elfish words came back to her.
THROUGH KNOWLEDGE, POWER
.

Perhaps. This day, she would see.

Then she crossed the room and swept the air in front of the chamber door with one hand to remove the magic that sealed it. Tightening her resolve, she flung open the door.

S
hadea a’Ru stood on the battlements of Paranor’s north wall with Traunt Rowan and looked down at the army of Rock Trolls amassed before the gates. On hearing of this new threat, she had come at once, determined that she would deal with it herself, that she would not leave it up to her less-than-reliable allies. But having seen for herself how many Trolls were gathered—in excess of a thousand—she was unsure of what to do.

“Have they made any sort of demand?” she asked Traunt Rowan.

He shook his head. “Not a word out of any of them. They simply walked out of the trees and formed up in ranks and haven’t moved or said anything since.”

“This must have something to do with Kermadec,” she said quietly. “Those Trolls bear the banner of Taupo Rough. They wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him. Are you sure you left him safely behind at Stridegate? After all, that girl managed to find a way onto one of the ships.”

“He was on the ground with the others when we lifted off. He was trapped by thousands of Urdas. Even if he got past them, he would have had to walk out. It would have taken days.” Traunt Rowan shook his head, and then gestured toward the Troll army. “Maybe they’ve come looking for him. Maybe they think he’s here.”

She considered the possibility. “Maybe.”

But that suggestion didn’t feel right. A few might come, but not an entire army. It was something else, something much more dangerous. She glanced at the lower walls, where the Gnome Hunters were hiding behind the battlements. They could hold against an attack if the Trolls did not get past the walls. But there were too few of them to withstand an assault if the attackers broke through.

She had already ordered that the gates be reinforced. There was nothing more she could think of to do at that point. She would let the Trolls stand out there all day if that was what they wanted to do. If they were still standing there the next day, she might consider using her magic to disperse them. But that would require an enormous drain on her reserves, a last resort when all else failed. She would need a good reason to commit herself to such an action.

She was considering the possibility of sending word to the East-land Gnomes that they needed reinforcements when Pyson Wence came flying down the stairs from the north tower, his black robes billowing wildly, his sharp features stricken.

“The triagenel has collapsed!” he shouted to them.

She’s back
, Shadea thought instantly.

“You’re sure about this?” she snapped, exchanging a quick glance with Traunt Rowan.

Pyson Wence sneered, trying to hide the fear in his eyes. “Do
you think me a fool? The magic’s gone dark. What else could it mean?”

She ignored the taunt, brushing past him as she moved quickly toward the tower stairs, her strong features hard and set. “Let’s finish this,” she said softly.

They went up the stairs in a rush. Already, Shadea felt the magic building inside her in anticipation of the battle ahead. She smiled fiercely. This time there would be no mistakes.

They had gained the head of the stairs and were turning down the hallway leading to the sleeping chamber when its north wall blew apart.

D
eep in the hidden passageways in the walls of the Keep, the Ohmsfords, Khyber Elessedil, and a grumbling Tagwen descended toward the furnace room. In a somber mood, the group moved ahead in silence.

“I don’t like it that we left her back there alone,” the Dwarf repeated over and over again.

“You know we couldn’t stay, Tagwen,” Rue Meridian said finally. “You know she wouldn’t let us.”

“There are too many of them for her to have a chance.”

Rue shook her head. “I wouldn’t wager against her, whatever the odds.”

Tagwen went silent for a time as the little band continued through the darkness using a small light provided by Khyber’s elemental magic as a beacon. They could not tell what was happening behind them. The stone-block walls were thick and massive and muffled all sounds from the other side. The chambers of the Druid’s Keep were tombs, and they kept their secrets well.

“We could still go back,” Tagwen muttered under his breath. “It isn’t too late.”

Bek wheeled back on him furiously. “Stop it, Tagwen! None of the rest of us likes this any better than you do! How do you think I feel about leaving her? She’s my sister! But if the Forbidding comes down, it really won’t make any difference what happens to Grianne, will it?”

“Bek,” Rue admonished softly.

Tagwen went crimson with shame at the rebuke, his lips compressing into a tight line. He tried to say something in response, but failed. Trembling, he pushed past Bek and went on alone.

It was Pen who went after him, hurrying to catch up as he wandered blindly ahead into the darkness. “Wait, Tagwen!”

When he was even with the Dwarf, Pen slowed and walked at his side. They were descending a stairway that was broad enough for two to pass together, so the boy was able to stay on his shoulder.

“He didn’t mean it, Tagwen. He just thinks like you do; he’s afraid he will lose her.”

Tagwen didn’t say anything.

“We all want to go back and help her,” Pen continued. “We are all afraid for her. I saw what sort of place the Forbidding is. I saw what she had to survive for all those weeks. She has been though a lot more than you think. I don’t even know it all; she wouldn’t talk about it with me. But I sensed it, anyway.”

“All the more reason we should be back there helping her,” Tagwen said furiously. “She’s not strong enough to face Shadea and those others. She’ll try to stand up to them, to reclaim the order, but she might not have the strength to do it.”

Pen nodded. “I know. But if we’re not there, Tagwen, she doesn’t have to worry about us getting hurt. She only has to worry about herself. I think that’s all she can manage just now. She sent us away to find the demon, but she sent us away to keep us safe, too.”

He paused. “And if something bad does happen to her, we won’t be there to see it happen. I think she wants that, too.”

The Dwarf looked over at him, but made no response.

K
ermadec had been waiting for the right moment, and when he heard the explosion from high in the north tower, he knew it had arrived. He took his little band of Rock Trolls from the gatehouse in which they had been hiding and moved toward the main gates securing the north wall. They advanced at a trot, bunched close together for protection, prepared to fight their way through any resistance. But they were lucky. The Gnome Hunters guarding the Keep were all on the walls or at the gates themselves, and the corridors between were empty.

The Trolls got to within fifty feet of the north gates before the Gnome Hunters standing guard at the huge crossbar securing the gates caught sight of them and shouted a warning to those on the walls. Kermadec responded by ordering his Trolls to charge. They rushed the Gnomes at the gates and fought their way through them. A hail of arrows and darts rained down from the walls, but once the Trolls were past the defenders and up against the gates, the men on the walls couldn’t see them anymore.

“Atalan!” Kermadec shouted to his brother. “Take the others! Watch our backs!”

With Barek to aid him, he turned to the crossbar. It was too heavy for even a dozen men to lift and had to be rolled in and out of a series of iron clasps by a pulley system. With attackers coming at Atalan and the remaining Trolls from every direction, Kermadec and Barek heaved against the levers that engaged the pulleys and began to slide the crossbar free.

Shouts turned to screams of rage and fear as the Gnomes realized what was happening, and they flung themselves on the Trolls heedlessly. Atalan’s small line held for a moment, and then broke apart under the rush. Dozens of Gnome Hunters converged on Kermadec and Barek. The latter fought to protect his Maturen, but was overwhelmed. Kermadec threw aside the Gnomes who reached him, still leaning into the pulley levers. The crossbar grated slowly out of its metal fastenings, the pulley wheels squealing from the strain.

“Atalan!” Kermadec shouted again as his attackers tore him away from the levers.

His brother reached him instantly, hammering aside the Gnomes who sought to bar his way, roaring the Taupo Rough battle cry, which was instantly taken up by the Trolls without. The gates sagged inward as Kermadec’s soldiers outside pressed up against them. The crossbar was drawn halfway out by then, a single fastening securing it on its farthest end. Gnome Hunters clinging to him, Atalan threw himself against the levers and the crossbar slid all the way free.