Bearers of the Black Staff - Terry Brooks [16]
“We would be cowards if we did that,” the boy said. “Bayleen and Rausha were friends; they deserve better.”
“They were my friends, too. But they’re dead and gone, and you can’t change that.” The Tracker’s sharp eyes held them. “If you can find some hard evidence to support your statement, then you can give it.”
Pan shook his head. “If we wait on this, people will wonder why we held our tongues. If it’s true, why did we keep it from them?”
“We risk people finding out the hard way what we already know,” Prue added. “We risk watching others die.” She threw up her hands. “Why not just tell them? These people know us! They know we don’t lie!”
Trow Ravenlock shook his head. “Skeal Eile might make them think otherwise. He has the skills to do that; I’ve seen it happen before. If you make him your enemy, he has the power to turn everyone against you. By giving this report, you might as well call him a fraud and a liar. You are declaring to everyone that the Children of the Hawk have been mistaken in their beliefs for five centuries. You can’t do that and not expect retaliation. And you aren’t ready for that.”
“What I am not ready for,” Panterra declared, “is sitting on my hands and doing nothing. I saw what I saw. We both did. These creatures we encountered were not from this valley. The Gray Man may be right—the wall of protection may be eroding. Whatever the case, he asked us to tell the people of Glensk Wood what he believes is happening, and we agreed to do so. I won’t go back on my word.”
The Tracker leader rose and stood looking at Pan. “You’re making a mistake, but it’s your mistake to make. Don’t say you weren’t warned. I’ll give it until morning, in the unlikely case you change your mind. Then I’ll speak to Pogue Kray and arrange for you to appear before the council tomorrow night.”
He shook his head. “Now go—get out of here.”
THE BOY AND THE GIRL WALKED from the longhouse and stood together on the porch for a moment, staring out at the lighted windows of the community buildings where they glimmered in the darkness. As if by accord, neither spoke for a very long time.
“Maybe he’s right,” Prue said finally.
Pan gave her a look. “Maybe he’s not.”
“I’m just saying.”
“Well, don’t.”
She tightened her lips petulantly. “Maybe we should just go to bed.”
“Maybe we should get something to eat first. Like we planned.”
They went down off the steps and followed the path toward their homes. It was growing late, and there were only a few people still out and about at this hour. Those they passed nodded politely or said hello, safe in the knowledge that all was right with the world, oblivious to the truth. For reasons that he found hard to explain, it irritated Panterra immensely.
“Will you come to my house and eat with me?” Pan asked finally.
Prue shook her head. “No, I think I’ll just go home and find something there. I want to go to bed.”
They didn’t say anything more until their lane, with its neat row of cottages, appeared through the trees. Lights flickered in a few windows, but none of them were theirs. Prue’s parents were visiting her mother’s sister in the neighboring community of Fair Glade End. Panterra’s parents were two years dead from a wasting sickness that no one had known how to treat.
They stopped in front of Prue’s cottage, looking at everything but each other. “I didn’t mean to snap at you,” Panterra told her. “I’m sorry I did.”
She shrugged. “I know that. You don’t have to apologize to me. I don’t need you to do that ever, Pan.”
“Maybe I need to hear myself say it.”
She gave him a small smile. “See you tomorrow. Sleep well.”
She turned and walked down the path to her doorway. Panterra waited until she had entered and closed the door, then turned and started for his own home. His older brother and sisters had shared the house with him until the last of them married and moved away. Now he lived alone, not quite certain what to do with either the house or himself when he wasn’t tracking.