Ilse Witch - Terry Brooks [71]
“I am,” Walker said quietly.
She smiled. “Well, where would you go if you didn’t want to? You’re my captive audience.” She paused, studying him. “You have intelligence, Walker. I can see you thinking all the time. I look inside your eyes and see your mind at work. You listen, you measure, and you judge accordingly. You’ll make your own decision about this expedition and us. What I say won’t influence you. That’s not why I’m telling you how I feel about Big Red. I’m telling you so you will know where I stand.”
She paused and waited, and after a moment, he nodded. “That’s fair enough.”
She sighed and shifted on the seat. “Frankly, I don’t care about the money. I have enough of that. What I don’t have is peace of mind or a sense of future or something to believe in again. I had those once, when I was younger. Somewhere along the way, I lost them. I’m sick at heart and worn-out. The past three years, fighting on the Prekkendorran, chasing Free-born back and forth across the heights, killing them now and then, burning their airships, spilling fire on their camps—it charred my soul. The whole business was stupid. A war over land, over territorial rights, over national dominion—what does any of it matter? Except for the money, I have nothing to show for that experience.”
She fixed him with her green eyes. “I don’t sense this about your expedition. I don’t feel that a Druid would bother with something so petty. Tell me the truth—is your enterprise going to offer anything more?”
She was so intense as she stared at him that he was momentarily taken aback by her depth of feeling. “I’m not sure,” he said after a moment. “There is more to what I’m asking you to do than the money I’ve offered. There are lives at stake besides our own. There are freedoms to be lost and maybe a world to be changed for better or worse. I can’t see far enough into the future to be certain. But I can tell you this much. By going, we might make a difference that will mean something to you later.”
She smiled. “We’re going to save the world, is that it?”
His face remained expressionless. “We might.”
The smile disappeared. “All right, I won’t make a joke of it. I won’t even suggest you might be overstating what’s possible. I’ll allow myself to believe a little in what you’re promising. It can’t hurt. A little belief on both sides might be a good beginning to a partnership, don’t you think?”
He nodded, smiling. “I do.”
Bird cries heralded the arrival of dawn, and as the early light broke through the darkness, massive cliffs rose against the skyline, craggy and barren facings lashed by wind and surf. At first it appeared as if there was no way through the formidable barrier. But the ship ahead lit a lantern and hoisted it aloft, and a pair of lamps responding from shoreside indicated the approach. Even then, it was not apparent that an opening existed until they were almost on top of it. The light was thin and faint, the air clogged by mist and spray, and the thunder of waves crashing on the rocks an unmistakable warning to stay clear. But the Captain of the ship ahead proceeded without hesitation, navigating between rocks large enough to sink even his craft, let alone the skiff in which Walker rode.
Redden Alt Mer was awake again, standing at the tiller,