Daughter of darkness, p.34
Daughter of Darkness,
p.34
He pauses. “But we are not quite done, you and I.”
I give him a look. “We aren’t?”
“One more thing needs attending to, and I would like for you to see what it is. I would like you to see it finished. You don’t need to do anything; you will not be at risk. I just want you to watch. Yet it is important that you be there. Will you agree to come?”
* * *
—
He leads me from his homestead and back into the surrounding woods, moving south. He picks his way carefully, advising me to step exactly where he steps, taking his time, choosing his path.
We are deep in the woods when he finally halts. He reaches down through leaves and earth and uncovers a wooden trapdoor buried beneath a waterproof shield. When he lifts the door, he uncovers a ladder leading down into the darkness below. We descend into a cellar where Drifter lights torches that reveal a sizable room filled with engines, mechanical switches, and chamber boxes. There are also tools, weapons, and supplies shelved, pegged, and otherwise fastened to the wooden walls. It is a workshop of some sort, clearly, but I have no idea what it is meant to do.
Without explaining it, he walks over to a long wooden bench and picks up a series of ten or twelve small boxes, which he places in a sack he then slings over his shoulder.
“Igniters,” he says. “I’ve been working on the project since you and I parted. It’s time to put a stop to all these ill-considered attempts to subjugate the Fae people. It is time to show our friend Winton the exit.”
I find myself smiling; how well Drifter knows me. I want Winton gone, but I never wanted to be the one who did it; he is my half brother, after all. But if Drifter is willing to take this on, then perhaps I will have the satisfaction of real peace for the rest of my life.
I give him a silent nod, and we leave the basement hideaway and exit into the night.
We return to his training center and go back inside. When I ask him how long this will take, he tells me it will be done by midday on the morrow. He jokes about it in vague terms, but I am able to gather that he wants in some way to disable the Ministry’s operations against the Fae and perhaps cause some major disruption to those who serve as agents for Winton’s destructive passions. There is to be an Assembly meeting tomorrow, where Winton will be addressing the Ministry on the subject of the Fae. So what better way than to stop him before he can speak? Drifter does not reveal his plans, but I can draw some conclusions from the words he speaks and the anger his voice reveals.
I sleep that night in his spare bedroom, and wake before dawn when I hear him moving about. I am growing increasingly concerned over what he intends, but on the other hand I am not at all sure I want to know any more than I already do. He is not talking at all about what he intends, and there is little question that this is a very deliberate choice.
We leave while it is still dark, heading for the city. Drifter pushes ahead at a pace that leaves me trotting to keep up with him. He may look ragged and he may be limping, but he is intent on his mysterious purpose. We enter the city at sunrise and progress to a storage center close enough to the Ministry buildings that I can see them all clearly; the Assembly, in fact, is directly in front of us, though still some distance off. We stay hidden as we work our way up to a higher floor, and then Drifter turns to me.
“I want you to wait here while I do what is needed. Stay hidden. Keep watch. I’ll send up a flare when it is time for you to leave.”
“And then?”
He smiles. “Go home. Go back to Harrow. You and I will be finished, and Winton will have something to think about besides the Fae.”
I shake my head. Without knowing anything, I say, “I should go with you.”
He smiles through his ragged beard and leans in to hug me. “No, Auris. This is on me. I wanted you to see what I intend, and now you can. But remain here. Don’t try to follow me.”
He says it in a way that makes it clear I am not being given a choice. I am not invited to participate further. Whatever Drifter intends, I am not to be part of it.
“Promise me you will do as I ask,” he adds when he sees me hesitate.
The insistence present in his words cuts like glass. Whatever it is he goes to do, he will do alone.
A final hug, a mischievous wink, and he is gone.
* * *
—
I wait in place with one eye fixed on the Assembly buildings and one ear teased for the sound of my teacher’s return. Time passes. One hour, two. I wonder more than once what I am waiting for.
The answer comes near midday. Explosions tear through the silence—one, two, three, four, and I lose count. They begin with such shocking suddenness that at first all I can do is press myself against the stone walls and close my eyes, picturing what I will see when I look out again. I have already heard enough to guess.
And I am not wrong.
The entire Ministry Assembly Hall and the three adjoining buildings that provide offices for the service workers and staff have been blown to rubble. I watch them fall, coming apart wall by wall, roof by roof, stanchion by stanchion. Roofs collapse, walls are breached, and ruins are all that is left. When the explosions end, everything that was once either Assembly or part thereof is destroyed. Clouds of smoke and ash rise from what remains. Fires burn where fires can. Screams and moans are audible even as far away as I am. How many have died? How many are gone who were nothing more than servants to the higher powers, or custodians, or even simply visitors? No way for me to know. The Assembly was in session, so all the ministers in attendance are likely dead. It was a workday, so all the regular Ministry employees are likely gone as well.
So this was not just about stopping Winton from addressing the Assembly, but sending a clear message to the Ministry as a whole. And I suddenly understand why Drifter decided to keep his intentions secret. He could have told me his plans; I couldn’t have stopped him. But he said nothing at all of what he intended. He must have wanted to shoulder all the guilt for his act himself and leave me blameless.
My half brother Winton—along with the entire Assembly he was addressing—is gone.
And Drifter himself?
He would have needed to be very close to be certain the igniters all worked in sequence. So he is gone, too.
He made me a witness to his passing. He made me a reliable chronicler of the Ministry’s destruction. He wanted me to know he had done something for the Fae that would have lasting results, and he wanted to be sure someone he could trust knew the truth. It was how he wanted to leave this life. It was the ending he was searching for that I was asked to witness.
I linger long enough to watch the rescue vehicles assemble and the emergency techs begin their search for survivors, then I turn away. I walk back down the stairs to ground level and go out through the entry doors and back through the city. There is nothing more for me to see here. Nothing more for me to do.
I am bitter and I am chilled deep. Enough of this. It is time to go home. Maybe this time I can remain there in peace.
* * *
—
I return to Viridian Deep and give myself over to spending time with Harrow and the girls, forgetting everything else. No longer do the Goblins come for me in the dark of night. No longer do I live in fear of further attempts to drag me back to the prisons or the Ministry compound and those misguided scientists who would experiment on me as they see fit. Only now and then do images of the destruction of the Ministry Assembly recall themselves. Only vaguely, after a time, do I even remember my half brother’s face.
Drifter’s visage, as I saw it there at the end, will never leave me.
Harrow heals as we all hoped he would, returning to the man he was, regaining his Watcher skills, and reconnecting with his unique inish instincts. My sisters continue to fuss over him for a time, but eventually he is well enough that the entire incident fades from our conversations and our thoughts.
Months pass, then two things of consequence happen.
The first is that I lose the last of my Human traits, finally becoming the person I have been evolving into over the past few years.
The other thing is less immediately apparent to others—though I recognize it instantly, because there is no way I could miss it. And while walking with Harrow on one beautiful day down to the Gardens of Life and Promise Falls, I decide to tell him. Really, I am getting to a point where I can no longer put it off. I am reminded of a similar day two years earlier, when he brought me here to become his life partner. It was one of the best days of my life, and I want to repeat it at least once more.
When we are standing together at the foot of the pathway just across from the shimmering waters of Promise Falls, I turn and kiss him. I do not back away as the kiss goes on. I hold it in place for long moments.
The old, familiar Harrow looks at me with those amazing eyes I can’t help but fall into every single time. “I love you back, Auris. Just as much, if not more.” He pauses. “But is this kiss for something?”
“You know me too well.”
He looks bemused. “Please. Not another unexpected journey.”
“No. I’m not going anywhere. You either.”
“What, then?”
“I want to give you a present.”
“You have already given me everything I could ever ask for.”
I find myself smiling. “Not this. This is new.”
“Enough teasing. What is this special gift?”
I take a deep breath. “A child.”
His eyes brighten. “I would love to have a child.”
My smile widens. “I was hoping you would say that, because I can’t exactly give it back now.”
“You never said anything about adopting a child…”
“Not adopting, Harrow!” He is so dense sometimes. “The child is inside me. He will be out to greet you in person in about six or seven months.”
Harrow stares. “He?”
“It’s a boy.”
“You know this?”
“Of course I know.” I reach for his hand and place it over my stomach. “There. What does your inish tell you?”
The look on his face is priceless.
For the Kids
Jill, Amanda, Alex, and Hunter
and
In memory always of Lisa
BY TERRY BROOKS
SHANNARA
SHANNARA
First King of Shannara
The Sword of Shannara
The Elfstones of Shannara
The Wishsong of Shannara
THE HERITAGE OF SHANNARA
The Scions of Shannara
The Druid of Shannara
The Elf Queen of Shannara
The Talismans of Shannara
THE VOYAGE OF THE JERLE SHANNARA
Ilse Witch
Antrax
Morgawr
HIGH DRUID OF SHANNARA
Jarka Ruus
Tanequil
Straken
THE DARK LEGACY OF SHANNARA
Wards of Faerie
Bloodfire Quest
Witch Wraith
THE DEFENDERS OF SHANNARA
The High Druid’s Blade
The Darkling Child
The Sorcerer’s Daughter
THE FALL OF SHANNARA
The Black Elfstone
The Skaar Invasion
The Stiehl Assassin
The Last Druid
PRE-SHANNARA
GENESIS OF SHANNARA
Armageddon’s Children
The Elves of Cintra
The Gypsy Morph
LEGENDS OF SHANNARA
Bearers of the Black Staff
The Measure of the Magic
The World of Shannara
THE MAGIC KINGDOM OF LANDOVER
Magic Kingdom for Sale—Sold!
The Black Unicorn
Wizard at Large
The Tangle Box
Witches’ Brew
A Princess of Landover
THE WORD AND THE VOID
Running with the Demon
A Knight of the Word
Angel Fire East
VIRIDIAN DEEP
Child of Light
Daughter of Darkness
Sometimes the Magic Works: Lessons from a Writing Life
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Terry Brooks has thrilled readers for decades with his powers of imagination and storytelling. He is the author of more than forty books, most of which have been New York Times bestsellers. He lives with his wife, Judine, in the Pacific Northwest.
terrybrooks.net
Facebook.com/authorterrybooks
Twitter: @TerryBrooks
Instagram: @officialterrybrooks
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Terry Brooks, Daughter of Darkness
