Ilse Witch - Terry Brooks [150]
“It is a good night for discovering truths,” the other whispered in that rough, not-quite-human voice. “Care to try?”
“What are you talking about?” Bek struggled to keep his voice steady and calm.
“Hum for me. Just a little, soft as a kitten’s purr. Hum as if you were trying to move me back with just your voice. Do you understand?”
Bek nodded, wondering what in the world Truls Rohk was trying to prove. Hum? Move him back with his voice?
“Do it then. Don’t question me. Think about what you want to do and then do it. Concentrate.”
Bek did as he was asked. He imagined the shape-shifter standing beside him, visualized him there in the darkness, and hummed as if the sound, the vibration alone, might move him away. The sound was barely audible, unremarkable, and so far as Bek could determine, pointless.
“No!” the other spat angrily. ‘Try harder! Give it teeth, boy!“
Bek tried again, jaw clenched, angry now himself at being chided. His humming buzzed and vibrated up from his throat and through his mouth and nose with fresh purpose. The force of his effort caused the air before his eyes to shimmer as if turned to liquid.
“Yes,” Truls Rohk murmured in response, satisfaction reflected in his voice. “I thought so.”
Bek went silent again, staring into the shadows, into the night. “You thought so? What did you think?” The humming had revealed nothing to him. What had it revealed to Truls Rohk?
A part of the blackness surrounding the casing detached itself and took shape, rising up against the light of moon and stars. An only vaguely human form, big and terrifying. Not to step away from it took everything Bek had.
“I know you, boy,” the other whispered.
Bek stared. “How could you?”
The other laughed softly. “I know you better than you know yourself. The truth of you is a secret. It is not for me to reveal it to you. The Druid must be the one to do that. But I can show you something of what it looks like. Are you interested?”
For an instant, Bek considered turning around and walking away. There was something dark in the other’s meaning, something that would change the boy once it was revealed. He understood that instinctively.
“We are alike, you and I,” the shape-shifter said. “We are nothing of what we seem or others think they know. We are joined in ways that would surprise and astonish. Perhaps our fates are linked in some way. What becomes of one depends on what becomes of the other.”
Bek could not imagine it. He could barely follow what the shape shifter was saying, let alone fathom what it meant. He made no reply.
“Lies conceal us as masks do thieves, boy. I, because I choose it to be so—you, because you are deceived. We are wraiths living in the shadows, and the truths of identities are carefully guarded secrets. But yours is the darker by far. Yours is the one that has its source in a Druid’s games-playing and a magic’s dark promise. Mine is simply the result of a twist of fate and a parent’s foolish choice.” He paused. “Come with me, and I’ll tell you of it.”
Bek shook his head. “I can’t leave—”
“Can’t you?” the other shot, cutting him short. “Down to the island and into the castle? Come with me, and we’ll bring the third key back to the Druid before he wakes. It’s lying there, waiting for us. You and I, we can do what the Druid cannot. We can find it and bring it back.”
Bek took a deep breath. “You know where the key is?”
The other shifted slightly, a flowing of darkness against the moonlight. “What matters is that I know how to find it. The Druid asked me earlier this night to seek it out, and so I did. But now I have decided to go back on my own and get it. Want to come along with me?”
The boy was speechless. What was going on here?
“This should be easy for you. I know your heart. You’ve been allowed to do nothing. You’ve been kept aboard for no reason you can determine. You’ve been lied to and put off as if you didn’t count. Aren’t you weary