Bearers of the Black Staff - Terry Brooks [74]
Except for one thing, he thought suddenly. They had determined that someone like them was alive out here, someone who carried packs and used blankets, which meant the world was still inhabited by beings like themselves and not just the beasts and dragons they had encountered.
They remained where they were, undecided about whether to stay or go, studying the camp, still hoping they would learn something more. Time passed, and the darkness deepened. Nothing showed itself, nothing moved, and no sounds broke the stillness save once when a creature cried out sharply far off in the dark. The outside world felt huge and empty.
Finally, Pan reached over and touched her arm.
We need to get out of here, he mouthed.
She nodded, and they began backing down the slope of the ravine, intending to retrace their steps. But they had gotten only a few feet when Prue suddenly grabbed him and shook her head sharply, warning him to freeze. Something was wrong. She mouthed a silent explanation, but he couldn’t make out what it was. She was looking everywhere, sensing danger but unable to pinpoint its source. Panterra searched the shadows with her, but the shadows fell in layers that filled the ravine. He couldn’t see anything. He glanced back at her, wanting her to tell him if they could go, if they should flee, but Prue was still searching the darkness.
He dropped slowly into a crouch, steeling himself, trying to decide what to do.
Then a huge shadow fell over him, crashing down on him like a great weight and collapsing his world, and it was too late.
FIFTEEN
HE IS SIXTEEN, LITTLE MORE THAN A YEAR OLDER than when he fell in love, when the bearer of the black staff comes to him. The appearance of the old man is entirely unexpected. Sider Ament knows who the bearer is and has even seen him now and then, but he has never spoken to him, has never even come close. Nor has the old man ever approached him as he does now, coming out of the trees.
Sider’s first thought will haunt him for the rest of his life.
What does he want with me?
It is a question, he will think later, that he should never have asked.
It has been a wondrous year for the boy. The days have been filled with dreams of the girl from Glensk Wood. When they are together, some of those dreams are realized. But this happens all too infrequently, for he still lives on his parents’ farm and must still find excuses to go down into the valley to see her. Yet when he cannot be with her, he thinks of her constantly. He imagines a life together, married with a home and children, inseparable. He knows it will happen one day, and he is impatient for it. He is consumed by his dreams and his expectations, and lost to everything else.
And now the old man comes to him.
It is an ordinary day, and he is working in the north pasture repairing the fencing where the livestock had broken through some days earlier, forcing him to collect them and bring them home. It is mindless work, and he is free to dream of what really matters to him. He knows he will see her again in less than a week’s time, a visit to the village for supplies and materials already planned, the opportunity he needs. She will be waiting for him; she is always waiting for him. From the first time he was with her, he knew what their future would be. And though she did not say so, he could tell that she knew it, too.
He turns from his work and stands waiting as the old man comes up to him. He has known of him from the time he was a small boy. His father has told him of the bearer of the black staff, of his solitary life as guardian of the people of the valley. He has told him of the old man’s legacy, of the history of his staff and the Knights of the Word. It is not common knowledge, but somehow his father knows. Perhaps he learned it from the travelers who sometimes pass through, the men and women of the high country who live apart from the rest of the world. Perhaps the old man himself has told him.
Either way, Sider has given the matter little thought.