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Bearers of the Black Staff - Terry Brooks [22]

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look at Skeal Eile, aware that the Seraphic was studying him intently from behind the council leader’s chair. He tried not to hurry his report or to make it too sensational, but to keep it straightforward and accurate. He started with how Prue and he had come across the tracks of the creatures—tracks they could not identify—and begun following them. He continued with their discovery of the remains of Bayleen and Rausha, their efforts at further tracking their friends’ killers, the ambush and attack by the creatures, and their rescue at the hands of the Gray Man.

He closed by repeating the latter’s warning, and when he finished the entire assembly broke out in a wild cacophony of voices shouting and crying out in a mix of anger and doubt and fear.

Pogue Kray rose to his feet, his giant frame looming over everyone. He gave it only a moment, and then roared for silence, pounding his fist on the table once again. The quieting took longer this time, but eventually the room was still once more.

“There will be no more of that!” the council leader snapped, looking from face to face, eyes dark and fierce. “I told you what would happen, and if there is another such outburst I will empty the room and the rest will be heard by the council alone!”

“Perhaps that is best in any case?” Skeal Eile suggested in his low, compelling voice from over the other’s shoulder.

Pogue Kray shook his head. “This session will continue as before. Young man. Panterra Qu, isn’t it? You seem certain of your story. But its parts are both clear and yet still vague in my mind. Enlighten me on a few of its points. How is it that Sider Ament came to find you when he hasn’t been seen in the valley in months?”

“He had been tracking the creatures, too—from where he found they had breached the mists,” Panterra answered. “He caught up to us just in time to keep us from being killed.”

“You and this young lady,” the big man said. He turned to Prue. “Is this boy’s story as you remember it? Or are there things you wish to add or subtract?”

Prue rose to stand next to Pan. “Everything happened exactly as he said it did. I would change nothing.”

“Still, it is an incredible tale, with ramifications that I don’t think either of you appreciate,” Pogue Kray pointed out. “Perhaps you need further time to consider the reliability of your memories.”

Skeal Eile stepped forward once more. “Your advice is well given, Council Leader,” he said. “These are young people with little experience in the world. They tell a wild tale, one that suits their age and inexperience but strains belief. What they remember might not be exactly what they saw at the time. Is there any physical proof of what they tell us?”

Pogue Kray nodded at Panterra. “Answer him.”

Panterra shook his head reluctantly. “No, we have no physical proof. The swamp swallowed the creature that was killed. The other escaped. Sider Ament went after him.”

“The wild man who lives as a hermit on the high slopes of our valley, the man who disdains the company of other men and pretends at being our guardian, carrying a relic that may or may not have come from another time.” He shook his head in dismay. “No one has ever seen this staff do the things you say you saw it do, young Panterra. Things of magic from out of the old world, things no one has seen in centuries. Not even the Elves. Isn’t it possible that you are mistaken in what you saw?”

Panterra shook his head. “I know what I saw. I am a Tracker. I am not easily deceived.”

“But you admit that deception is a possibility, even for a Tracker as skilled as you?” Skeal Eile stepped in smoothly, eyes locking on Panterra. “I know your reputation. You have special talent. But all of us can be tricked by our own senses and the deliberate deceptive efforts of others. That could have happened here.”

Without waiting for Pan’s response, Skeal Eile turned to the assembled members of the community, raising his hands to draw their eyes and hold them.

“Listen to me, now. Listen carefully. This story lacks foundation in the teachings of the Hawk. It goes contrary to everything

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