The Druid of Shannara by Terry Brooks Page A

if he should kill Rimmer Dall. He had thought about it before, contemplated it quite seriously. Lately the idea had begun to take on a certain fascination for him. He felt no loyalty to the man, cared nothing for him one way or the other beyond a vague appreciation of the opportunities he offered and even those were no longer as rewarding as they had once been. He was tired of the other’s constant attempts to manipulate him. He no longer felt comfortable with their arrangement. Why not put an end to him?
    The Stiehl wavered. The trouble was, of course, that there was no real point to it. Killing Rimmer Dall accomplished nothing, unless, of course, he was ready to discover what secrets might reveal themselves at the moment of the First Seeker’s dying. That could prove interesting. On the other hand, why rush things? It was better to savor the prospect for a time. It was better to wait.
    He sheathed the Stiehl with a quicksilver movement and backed away from Rimmer Dall. For just an instant he had a sense of missed opportunity, as if such a chance might never come again. But that was foolish. Rimmer Dall could not keep him away. The First Seeker’s life was his to take when he chose.
    He looked at Rimmer Dall for a moment, then spread his hands agreeably. “I’ll do it.”
    He wheeled and started away. Rimmer Dall called after him. “Be warned, Pe Ell. This girl is more than a match for you. Do not play games with her. Once you have discovered her purpose, kill her quickly.”
    Pe Ell did not respond. He slipped from the room and melted back into the shadows of the keep, uninterested in anythingRimmer Dall thought or wished. It was enough that he had agreed to do what the Shadowen had asked. How he accomplished it was his own business.
    He departed Southwatch for Culhaven. He did not kill any of the sentries on his way out. He decided it wasn’t worth the effort.
    Midnight approached. He grew tired of thinking and dozed in his chair as the hours slipped away. It was only several hours from dawn when the girl awoke. The cottage was silent, the Dwarf family asleep. The fires of those camped without had burned to coals and ash, and the last whispers of conversation had died away. Pe Ell came awake instantly as the girl stirred. Her eyes blinked open and fixed on him. She stared at him without speaking for a very long time and then slowly sat up.
    “I’m called Quickening,” she said.
    “I am Pe Ell,” he replied.
    She reached for his hand and took it in her own. Her fingers were as light as feathers as they traced his skin. Then she shivered and drew back.
    “I am the daughter of the King of the Silver River,” she said. She swung her legs off the bed and faced him. She smoothed back her tangled silver hair. Pe Ell was transfixed by her beauty, but she seemed completely unaware of it. “I need your help,” she said. “I have come out of the Gardens of my father and into the world of men in search of a talisman. Will you journey with me to find it?”
    The plea was so unexpected that for a moment Pe Ell did not respond but simply continued staring at the girl. “Why do you choose me?” he asked finally, confused.
    And she said at once, “Because you are special.”
    It was exactly the right answer, and Pe Ell was astonished that she should know enough to give it, that she could sense what he wanted to hear. Then he remembered Rimmer Dall’s warning and hardened himself. “What sort of talisman is it that we search for?”
    She kept her eyes fastened on him. “One of magic, one with power enough to withstand even that of the Shadowen.”
    Pe Ell blinked. Quickening was so beautiful, but her beauty was a mask that distracted and confused. He felt suddenly stripped of his defenses, bared to his deepest corners, the light thrown on all his secrets. She knew him for what he was, he sensed. She could see everything.
    In that instant, he almost killed her. What stopped him washow truly vulnerable she was. Despite