The Sword of Shannara - Terry Brooks [103]
“Then, when we used the Elfstones in the Mist Marsh...” Flick began in horror.
“You told the Skull Bearers exactly where you were,” Allanon finished with that infuriating smile. “If you hadn’t lost yourselves in the mist and the Black Oaks, they might have had you right there.”
Shea felt a sudden chill sweep over him as he recalled how close they had felt to death at the time, little realizing how much danger they were really in from the creatures they feared the most.
“If you knew that use of the stones would attract the spirit creatures, then why didn’t you tell us?” demanded Shea angrily. “Why did you give them to us to use for protection when you knew what would happen?”
“You were cautioned, my young friend,” came the slow, growling response that always indicated Allanon’s temper was shortening. “Without them, you would have been at the mercy of other equally dangerous elements. Besides, they are protection enough in themselves against the winged ones.”
He waved off further questions, indicating that the subject was closed, causing Shea to become even more suspicious and angered. A watchful Durin saw all the signs and placed a restraining hand on the young Valeman’s shoulder, shaking his head in warning.
“If we may return to the matter at hand,” Allanon continued on a more even tone, “let me explain further the chosen route for the next few days without interruption. The journey across the Rabb Plains will put us at the foot of the Dragon’s Teeth at daybreak. Those mountains offer all the protection we need from anyone searching for us. But the real problem is getting over them and down the other side to the forests surrounding Paranor. All the known passes through the Dragon’s Teeth will be closely guarded by the allies of the Warlock Lord, and any attempt to scale those peaks without using one of the passes would get half of us killed. So we’ll go through the mountains by a different route, one that they won’t be guarding.”
“Wait a minute!” exclaimed Balinor in astonishment. “You don’t plan to take us through the Tomb of the Kings!”
“There is no other alternative open to us if we wish to avoid being discovered. We can enter the Hall of Kings at sunrise and be completely through the mountains and outside Paranor by sundown without the guards at the passes being any the wiser.”
“But the stories say no one has ever gotten through those caverns alive!” insisted Durin, coming quickly to Balinor’s aid in discounting the suggested plan. “None of us is afraid of the living, but the spirits of the dead inhabit those caves and only, the dead may pass through unharmed. No living person has ever done it!”
Balinor nodded his head slowly in agreement, while the others looked on anxiously. Menion and the Valemen had never even heard of the place of which the others seemed so deathly afraid. Allanon was actually grinning strangely at Durin’s last comment, his eyes dark beneath the heavy brows, his white teeth showing in menacing fashion.
“You are not entirely correct, Durin,” he replied after a minute. “I have been through the Hall of Kings, and I tell you that it can be done. It is not a journey to be made without risk. The caverns are indeed inhabited by the spirits of the dead, and it is on this that Brona relies to prevent the entry of humans. But my power should be sufficient to protect us.”
Menion Leah had no idea what it was about the caverns that could cause even a man like Balinor to have second thoughts, but whatever it was, he felt there was a good reason to fear it. Moreover he was through questioning what he had called old wives’ tales and foolish legends, since the encounters in the Mist Marsh and the Wolfsktaag. What really concerned him now was what sort of powers the man who proposed to lead them through the caves, of the Dragon’s Teeth might possess that could protect them from spirits.
“The entire journey has been a calculated risk.” Allanon