Tanequil (6 page)

“They left as soon as they got directions from my father on where to find you. The other one must have come aboard while this was happening. We never saw it until they left, and then all of a sudden it was there. It didn't say anything and we couldn't see who it was, wrapped in that cloak and hood. It didn't look or move like a human, but I think it is. It spoke to me a few times, a strange voice, hoarse and rough, like someone talking through heavy cloth. I don't know its name; it never gave it.”

He touched her face. “We dropped whoever it was over the side of the
Skatelow
as she was rising. We tricked it off, and it was trying to get back aboard, but we managed to cut the ladder loose as it was climbing up. I think it might be dead.”

She shook her head at once, her face rigid with terror. “It isn't dead. It isn't. I would know. I would feel it! You haven't spent three days with it like I did, Penderrin. You haven't felt it touch you. You haven't heard that voice. You haven't been through what I've been through. You don't know!”

He pressed her close again. “Tell me, then. Tell me everything.”

“It made us prisoners. I don't know how it managed, but I never heard anything. No one even had a chance to struggle. I was locked away below, but I heard everything. It tortured Papa and the others and then it killed them. It took a long time. I could hear them screaming, could hear the sounds of—”

She broke off, gasping. “I'll never forget. Never. I can still hear it.” Her fingers were digging into Pen's arms. She took a deep breath. “When it was over, the . . . thing came for me. I thought I was next. But it knew about my sight, about how I could see things in my mind. That was what it wanted. It told me to find you. I was so afraid that I did what I was told because I didn't want to die. I did everything right up until I found you, and then I turned us another way. I don't know why. I don't know how I found the courage. I thought I was dead, then.”

“We saw you lead it away,” Pen whispered. “We knew what you had done. So we came after you.”

“If you hadn't . . .”

She shuddered once and began to cry again. “I can't believe Papa is gone.”

Pen thought of Gar Hatch and his cousins hanging from the rigging like scarecrows, food for scavengers. He'dhave to cut them down and dispose of them before she was allowed on deck. Maybe she couldn't see with her eyes, but she could see in other ways. He didn't want that to happen.

“Tell me what this is all about,” she whispered. “Please, Pen. I need to know why Papa's gone.”

Pen told her, starting at the beginning with the disappearance of the Ard Rhys, detailing his own flight west to find Ahren Elessedil and their journey before they had found Gar Hatch and the
Skatelow.
He told her how he had come to be in this situation, what he was expected to do and why, and where they were heading now. He confided his doubts and fears to her, admitted his sense of inadequacy, and revealed his reasons for continuing on nevertheless. As he spoke, she stopped shaking and grew quiet in his arms. Her horror of what had happened seemed to drain away, and the calmness he had been awaiting settled over her.

When he was finished, she lifted her head from his shoulder. “You are much braver than I am,” she said. “I am ashamed of myself.”

He didn't know what to say. “I think we take our courage from each other.”

She nodded and closed her eyes. “I want to sleep awhile, Pen. I haven't slept in three days. Would it be all right if I did?”

He covered her with blankets, kissed her on the forehead, and waited for her to fall asleep. It only took a few minutes. He stood looking down at her afterwards, thinking that finding her alive was the most precious gift he had ever received and he must find a way to protect it. He had lost her once; he would not do so again.

His resolve on that point would be tested at some time, he knew. What would he do when that happened? Would he give up his life for her as Bandit had for him? Did he love her enough to do that? There was no way to know until he was faced with the choice. He could tell himself anything, make any promise he wished, but promises were only words until more than words were required.

He paused at the doorway and stared into space. He knew how much she would depend on him. She would need him to be there for her. But that worked both ways. Because of how he felt about her, he depended on her to be there for him, too. He might be only a boy and she even younger than Khyber, but that didn't change the truth of things.

They would need to be strong for each other if they were to keep each other safe.

He closed the door softly behind him as he went out.

 
F
IVE
 

The day's heat still clung to the foothills below the Ravenshorn, sultry and thick in the waning of the afternoon light, when Rue Meridian said in a surprised voice, “That looks like an airship coming toward us.”

Bek Ohmsford turned and caught sight of the black dot out on the western horizon, backlit by the deep glow of the setting sun. Even though he wasn't sure what he was looking at, he took her at her word. Her eyes had always been better than his.

He glanced at her admiringly. He couldn't help himself. He still loved her as much now as he had when he had met her some twenty years earlier. He had been just an impressionable boy back then, and she, older by several years and a good deal of life experience, a woman. Circumstances and events had contrived to make falling in love the inevitable result of their meeting, and all these years later that surprised him still.

She remained strong and beautiful, undiminished in any way by time's passing, a rare and impossibly wondrous treasure. Blessed with dark red hair and bright green eyes, a tall rangy body, and a personality that was famously mercurial, she constantly surprised him with her contradictions. Born a Rover girl, she had flown airships with her brother, fought on the Prekkendorran, journeyed to the then unknown continent of Parkasia, and returned to marry and stay with a man whose world was so different from hers that he could not begin to measure the gap between them. She might have chosen another way, something closer to the life she had abandoned for him, but she had not done so, nor voiced a moment's regret. As wild and free as her life had been, it seemed impossible to him that she had given it up, but she had done so in a heartbeat.

Together, they had settled in Patch Run and started their airship exploration business. They had wanted a son, and one had been born to them within the first year. Penderrin to her, Pen to him, Little Red to his footloose Rover uncle, Redden Alt Mer, he was everything they had hoped for. Having Pen in her life changed Rue noticeably, and all for the good. She became more grounded and settled. She found greater pleasure in her home and its comforts. Always ready to sail away, she nevertheless wanted time with her baby, her son, to prepare him to face the larger world. She taught him, played with him, and loved him better than anyone or anything but Bek. As a consequence, Bek loved her better, as well.

She caught him looking at her and smiled. “I love you, too,” she said.

Bound to each other initially by the experiences they had shared during their journey aboard the
Jerle Shannara,
they discovered that they also shared an important similarity in their otherwise disparate backgrounds: Both had lost their parents young. Bek had been raised by Coran and Liria Leah, Quentin's parents, and Rue by her brother. It was their mutual decision that Pen would know his parents better than they had known theirs. From the beginning it was their intention that he should share in all aspects of their life together, including their business. He became a part of it early, learning to fly airships, to maintain and repair them, to understand their components and the functions they served. Pen was a quick study, and it was no stretch for him to master the intricacies of navigation and aerodynamics. By the time he was twelve, he was already designing airships as a hobby. By the time he was fourteen, he had built his first vessel.

He wanted to fly with them on their trips, of course, but he was not yet ready for that. It was a source of great disappointment to him. But he was young, and disappointments didn't last.

Bek shaded his eyes with his hand to cut the glare of the setting sun. He was of medium height, not as tall as she was, but broader through the shoulders, his hair and eyes dark and his skin browned by the sun. Always quick and agile, he was nevertheless beginning to feel the inevitable effects of sliding into his middle years. His less-than-perfect eyesight, he thought, was the first indication of what lay ahead.

“I think that's a Druid ship,” Rue said quietly.

He peered at what was now definitely identifiable as an airship, but he still couldn't tell what sort it was. “What would a Druid airship be doing out here?”

She glanced at him, and he could tell that whatever she was thinking, it wasn't good. They were miles into the Central Anar, in wilderness that few ventured into who weren't in the trapping, trading, or exploration business. The Ravenshorn Mountains were mostly unsettled and infrequently traveled other than by the Gnome tribes that called them home. A Druid airship so far out would be coming for a very definite purpose and on business that couldn't wait.

Bek looked at their passengers, who were sitting around a map, talking about where they wanted to go next. Two from the Borderlands, three from the deep Southland, and a Dwarf—all had signed on to see country that they had only heard about. They were five weeks out of Patch Run, where Bek and Rue had begun a series of stops to pick up their customers and take on supplies. They had three weeks left in the Eastland before they started back.

“Your sister?” Rue suggested, nodding toward the airship.

He shook his head. “I don't know. Maybe.”

He didn't want to voice what worried him most. One of the reasons a Druid airship would come for them was that something had happened to Pen. Word would reach Grianne, and she would come to tell him herself. But he wouldn't let himself think like that, not just yet. This probably had something to do with the Ard Rhys or the state of the Four Lands.

They kept watch as the airship sailed toward them through the fading afternoon sunlight, moving unerringly toward their campsite. How it had located them was a mystery, since few knew of their intended destination. A Druid could find them with help, but only Bek's sister possessed sufficient magic to track them with no help at all. He could see now that it was indeed a Druid airship that approached, so he began to suspect that she was aboard.

The other members of the expedition had seen the ship and come over to stand with their guides. A few asked what she was doing there, but Bek just shrugged and said he had no idea. Then he asked them to move back into the campsite and closer to where
Swift Sure
was anchored, a precaution he would have taken in any event.

“Are you expecting trouble?” Rue asked him, cocking one eyebrow.

“No. I just want to be ready.”

“We're always ready,” she said.

“You are, at least.”

She smiled. “That's why you were attracted to me. Don't you remember?”

The big airship eased out of the sky to the grassy shelf that fronted the encampment and overlooked the woodland country west. Anchor lines were dropped fore and aft, and a rope ladder was thrown over the side. Bek recognized the
Athabasca,
one of four ships-of-the-line in the Druid fleet, capable of great speed and power. He was impressed by her look. But not even a Druid ship could match the speed of
Swift Sure.

A Druid began to climb down the ladder, dark-robed and hooded, swaying unsteadily as he carefully placed one foot below the other. A big man, Bek saw, powerfully built and strong, but unfamiliar with airships and flying. He stepped off the ladder, pulled back his hood to reveal his face, and started toward them. Bek had never seen him before, but then most of the Druids at Paranor were unfamiliar to him. Except for his sister and Ahren Elessedil, who was no longer at Paranor, he had met only one or two others over the years, and those he barely remembered. The Druid life was his sister's life, not his, and he had kept himself deliberately apart from it. Sometimes he felt badly that he was not doing more to help her in her work, but it was not work he had ever cared to involve himself in and so he thought it better not to pretend he did.

The man who approached was younger than they were, though not by much, and his careworn face suggested he might be aging in other ways. Their lives filled with secrets, their work clandestine and often unknowable, Druids always troubled Bek. It was a role that fit his sister well, the clothes of her life as the Ilse Witch, where she had perfected the art of subterfuge and dissembling. Such skills were necessary in the world of the Druids, even though intended for good and not for evil. Druids were not well liked in the Four Lands. It was not a prejudice he shared, understanding them as he did, but it was a fact of life. Power fostered fear, and fear mistrust. The Druid order was for many the genesis of all three.

“Aren't those Gnome Hunters crewing the
Athabasca
?” Rue asked suddenly. “Where are the Trolls?”

It was too late for speculation. “Bek Ohmsford?” the Druid asked as he came up to them. He held out his hand without waiting for a reply. “My name is Traunt Rowan.”

He shook Bek's hand, then took Rue's as well. His grip was firm and reassuring. He spoke in even, measured tones that radiated sincerity and concern.

“I was sent by the Druid Council to bring you back with me to Paranor,” he continued, looking at them in turn. “The Ard Rhys has disappeared. We don't know what happened to her, but she's gone, and we haven't been able to find out why.”

Bek nodded. His sister had disappeared before, many times. She was known for going off without warning on undertakings she wished to keep secret. “You must have reason to be worried about her beyond what you've told me. She has gone her own way without advising others many times in her life. Why is this time any different?”

“Her personal assistant, Tagwen, always knows where she is. Or at least he knows when she is leaving. This time, he didn't know anything about what happened. Nor did the Troll guard. No one did. This is where matters become a bit more complicated. Tagwen was concerned enough that he sought out Ahren Elessedil to help search for her. Together, they traveled to Patch Run to find you. But they found you gone and spoke with your son instead. When they left, they took him with them. Now we can't find any of them.”

Bek felt a stab of fear. Rue's fingers reached out to find his and tightened sharply. “How did you find all this out? You haven't received any messages, have you?”

The Druid shook his head. “None. We found out what we did by asking those who knew bits and pieces of the truth. Tagwen left word where he was going. We followed him to the Westland village of Emberen. We discovered that he spoke with Ahren Elessedil and that they left together. From there, we tracked them to Patch Run. But we don't know what happened after that. We only know that your son is gone, as well.”

He grimaced. “I'm embarrassed we don't know more. We have been searching for them for days. We have been searching for you, too. We think that the disappearance of the Ard Rhys might indicate that her entire family is in danger. There is some indication of this being so. She has many enemies, and everyone knows you are close to her and are possessed of the Shannara magic, as well. Some of those enemies might consider you as dangerous to them as she is.”

“Penderrin would never go off with anyone, even Ahren Elessedil, without leaving word for us,” Rue broke in suddenly. “Did you look for a message?”

“We did,” Traunt Rowan said. “We looked everywhere. But we didn't find one.”

You searched our house,
Bek thought.
That was bold. Why did you feel the need?

“If Pen failed to leave a message, it was because he didn't have enough time to do so.” Rue was sliding into her protective mother role, and Bek could see the anger in her eyes. “Why wasn't he offered your protection earlier?”

A flicker of irritation appeared on Traunt Rowan's handsome face and then quickly disappeared. “We did what we thought best at the time. We were a little disorganized, confused. We didn't know what had happened at that point.”

“You still don't, it seems,” she snapped.

The Druid turned to Bek. “If you will return with me to Paranor, perhaps we can find them together. We know you have a strong connection to your sister, that you share the use of her magic. We were hoping that you might find a way to apply your talents to help us with our search. If we can find either your sister or your son, we have a chance of finding both.”

He hesitated. “I admit that we are growing desperate. We need a fresh approach. We need any help that we can get.”

He sounded sincere and his plea had merit, but something troubled Bek. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, but he couldn't quite make himself dismiss it, either.

“What of the expedition?” he asked, trying to think it through.

“I will see that everything is taken care of. Another ship, paid for by the order, will fulfill your obligation to your passengers. With your permission, I will fly back with you aboard your airship to Paranor. The
Athabasca
can continue her search. We have all of our airships out looking, crisscrossing the Four Lands. I don't want to take any of them out of service until this matter is settled.” He paused. “We are doing everything we can to find your son.”

He directed this last comment at Rue in what was surely an effort to reassure her, but Bek was pretty certain it was too late for that.

“We have to find him, Bek,” Rue said quickly. “We have to do whatever it takes.”

She was right, of course. But that didn't mitigate his sense of uneasiness. Why would Pen, who was always so dependable, disappear without a word to anyone? Where would Ahren Elessedil have taken him that required such secrecy? Looking at it from every conceivable angle, he kept coming back to the same two possibilities—that his son had been forced to flee or that Traunt Rowan was lying.

“Let me talk with our passengers and tell them what's happening,” he said to the Druid. “Then we'll come with you.”

He took Rue's hand and led her over to where the six who had hired them were standing in the shadow of
Swift Sure.
Quickly, he told them a version of the truth—that an emergency had arisen that required them to leave immediately for home, that another airship with another Captain and crew familiar with expedition work would come to allow them to complete their outing. There were a few disappointed looks, but everyone took it well. None of them asked for their money back. They shook hands and wished one another well.