High druid of Shannara_ Jarka Ruus - Terry Brooks [117]
— You cannot. Someone must find you —
Her heart sank, but she forged ahead anyway. “No one will ever find me here. No one can even get to me.”
— You are already found. Someone already comes —
“Here? For me?” She felt her heart jump. “Who does this?”
— A boy —
That stopped her in her tracks. “What boy?”
— He is your way back. When he comes for you, you must be ready to go with him —
A boy. She took a deep breath, her throat tightening with the effort. A boy. There was more to this, there had to be, but she knew he wouldn’t tell her what it was. He would make her wait, because that was the nature of the game he played. Besides, the future was uncertain, even for a shade. He could not tell her if the boy would succeed or fail. He could tell her only that the boy was coming. He would let her imagine the rest. She must go another way.
She pulled her cloak closer about her, aware suddenly of how cold she was. It was his presence, the nearness of his evil. Even in death, it was there, in the spray off the lake, in the currents of the air, in the darkness pressing down on her. Death, come alive in the form of his shade, gave power to what he was.
— Ask me something more —
His restlessness had returned, and she was in danger of losing him. But she didn’t know where to go next. “Where will I find this boy?”
— At the doorway through which you entered. You waste my time. Ask me something that matters. Is it possible that you are as stupid as you are pathetic —
She stiffened. He was taunting her and it was working. “Tell me why I am still alive. What reason was there for imprisoning rather than killing me?”
She was certain that he laughed, the sound so raw it made her cringe with embarrassment and rage. The lake’s waters spit in response to the sound, and the greenish light that radiated from beneath pulsed with energy.
— To serve the needs of the one who brought you here —
“What needs are those?”
— You ask the wrong question. Ask the right one —
Her mind worked furiously, thinking it through. “Why am I inside the Forbidding?” she asked finally.
Again, the laughter, but cool and soft this time, barely a whisper on the wind.
— That is better, little Straken. You are inside the Forbidding so that the one who brought you here could get out —
She caught her breath. Get out? Someone had gotten out? An exchange, she thought. Of course. The power that had imprisoned her belonged to the thing that sought to escape, not to someone from her own world. Something powerful had wanted out, something clever enough to manipulate those it needed in the Four Lands, and it had found a way through her.
The shade’s voice cut through her thoughts, commanding her attention.
— Heed me. You understand some, but not all. Here is the truth you must embrace, if you are to survive long enough to learn the rest. You cannot cast off your true self. You gain power through acceptance of your destiny. Bury your emotions with your foolish ambitions for the Druid Council. Become who you were meant to be, Ilse Witch. Your magic can make you powerful, even here. Your skills can give you domination. Use both. Wield them as weapons and destroy any that challenge you. If not, you will be destroyed, in turn —
“I am not the Ilse Witch,” she replied.
— Nor am I, then, the Warlock Lord. I have watched you grow. You were powerful once. You disdained that power for foolish reasons. Had you stayed strong, you would not have been sent here like this. But you have grown weak. Death’s cold hand is on you. Your time grows short —
The shade threw out one hand, and a wind howled across the lake, whipping at its robes and sending Grianne to her knees. The lesser shades scattered once more, disappearing into the darkness, lost. The lake boiled anew, spitting and rumbling, a cauldron of discontent, and the Warlock Lord began to retreat back toward its center, burning eyes