High druid of Shannara_ Jarka Ruus - Terry Brooks [120]
But she was alone and friendless there and that would put her at a decided disadvantage. Sooner or later, that disadvantage would begin to tell. How many days had she been trapped in there already? At least two weeks, and that was just the beginning of the time that it would take for him to reach her. Under the best of conditions, he thought, he would need another week or two to find the tanequil. Then he had to persuade it to fashion the darkwand. Then he had to return to Paranor, get inside the Keep, and use the wand to cross over into the Forbidding.
How much time would all that require? Two months? More? Just listing the steps necessary for the rescue demonstrated how impossible the task was. She would be dead before he could reach her. Perhaps she was already dead.
He stopped himself angrily. What was he thinking? The King of the Silver River would not bother sending him if he had no chance of success; there would be no point in making the journey. No, his aunt was alive and she would stay alive until he reached her. She would die only if he talked himself out of going on.
If he persuaded himself he should quit.
As he was trying to do now.
He took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. He would not think like that again, he promised himself. He would do what he knew he should and continue on, right up until the moment that it became impossible for him to do so. That was what was expected of him; it was what he expected of himself.
Then Khyber appeared, sat down without a word, pulled out her folding game board, and cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at him. He smiled in spite of himself.
“I’ll give it a try,” he said.
Several hours passed and Ahren Elessedil did not return. As dusk approached and the shadows lengthened, rain began to fall once more, a steady, obstinate drizzle that dampened the mist but did nothing to dispel it. Pen went into the common room with Khyber and Tagwen to eat. Mindful of the need to stay anonymous, they took a table in a back corner, well away from the door and the stream of traffic entering and leaving. The Druids were still hunting them, the word still abroad that money would be paid for anyone who brought Pen to their attention. Perhaps they should have worried more about Gar Hatch’s mercenary tendencies, since Rovers were always on the lookout for an easy opportunity to increase their fortunes. But Ahren had not seemed concerned, and Khyber had insisted that because the Druid was paying Hatch a great deal more than the Rover could get by turning them in, it made better sense for Hatch to stay loyal to them.
“I don’t like it that he’s been gone so long,” Tagwen growled softly, giving Khyber a hard look. “You don’t think something might have happened to him, do you?”
She shook her head. “I think if it had, we would have heard. Word would have spread by now.”
“Then where is he?”
Pen took a long pull on his mug of ale. “He might have decided we’d get out of here quicker if he stayed around to supervise Hatch in making the necessary preparations. I don’t think he believes the Captain has done all that well on his own.”
Tagwen grunted, took a piece of bread from his plate and shoved it into his mouth in one monstrous bite. “Mmmff ummfatt wff.”
The boy cocked his head. “I didn’t quite catch that.” Khyber was shaking her head in disgust.
The Dwarf swallowed. “I said, maybe one of us should go and see.”
“That would be you,” Khyber snapped irritably, “since Pen and I are forbidden to go outside the walls of this grim little lie-down. Do you want to leave now?”
They went back to eating