The First King of Shannara - Terry Brooks [114]
Oh, but there must be another way! His mind tightened with the pressure of iron bands drawn taut. How could he make himself do it? What chance did he have? This time, should he fail, there would be no escape. He would be consumed...
Devoured.
He rose, needing to stand if he was to face this decision, needing to move away from his fear. He stepped down from the stairway, leaving the perplexed locat staring after him. He walked away from the others as well — from Jerle and Preia and the Hunters — to collect himself and take measure of his strength. A tall, gangly figure, he felt as worn and bent as the stone about him, and no less vulnerable to time. He knew himself for what he was — a Druid first, last, and always, but one of only a handful, one of an order that was in all probability moving toward extinction.
The world was changing, and some things must pass. It might be so with them, with Bremen, Risca, and himself.
But they should not pass in quiet complacency, he thought angrily. They should not pass as ghosts, fading into mist with the coming of the new day, inconsequential things and only half-believed.
We should not be less than what we are.
Empowered by his words and armored in the strength of his convictions, he summoned up the last of his courage and called to Jerle Shannara.
Chapter Seventeen
“T here is a way to reach the Black Elfstone,” Tay said quietly to Jerle Shannara. “But only I can do it, and I have to do it alone.”
They stood apart from the others, Tay’s crooked smile belying the knot that tightened his throat. The day was beginning to fade toward nightfall, the sun already gone west beyond the rim of the mountains surrounding them. He did not want to be caught down here in the dark.
Jerle studied him wordlessly for a moment. “You require some use of the Druid magic, I gather?”
“I do.”
The shrewd eyes fixed him. “A disguise?”
“Yes. Of a sort.” Tay paused. “I would rather not explain the specifics. I would rather you simply trusted me. I need to be left alone, no matter what happens. No one must come near me until I say it is permitted. This will be hard, because you will want to do otherwise.”
“This will be dangerous.” Jerle made it a statement of fact.
Tay nodded. “I must go into the garden. If I do not come out, you are to take the company and return to Arborlon. Wait, hear me out,” he said, cutting short the other’s protest. “If I am killed, there is no one else who stands a chance. You have a brave heart, Jerle, but no magic, and you cannot overcome what lives in the garden without magic. You must go back to Arborlon and wait for Bremen. He will be able to help. We have found the Black Elfstone, so it only remains to discover a way to retrieve it. If I cannot, he must.”
Jerle Shannara put his hands on his hips and looked away in disgust. “I am not much good at standing around while someone else risks his life — especially when it is you.”
Tay folded his arms across his chest and looked down at his feet. “I understand. I would feel the same way if our positions were reversed. Waiting is hard. But I have to ask it of you. I will need your strength later, when mine is gone. One thing more. When I come out again, when you see me, even if you are not sure it is me, speak my name.”
“Tay Trefenwyd,” the other repeated dutifully.
They stared at each other, thinking back on the years they had been friends, measuring what was being asked against their private expectations of themselves.
“All right,” Jerle said finally. “Go. Do what you must.”
At Tay’s request, he took the other members of the company to stand with him at the bottom of the spiral staircase, well back from the edge of the garden. Tay glanced at them only once, locking eyes momentarily with Preia Starle before turning away. He had distanced himself from his feelings for her since coming into the Chew Magna, knowing he could not