Bearers of the Black Staff: Legends of Shannara by Terry Brooks Page A

other Races did not subscribe to its teachings. That was a reason for some of the tension that had built among the differing peoples. The Elves, for instance, believed it was their duty to go out into the world and restore it to what it had been before they were driven here by the massive destruction of the Great Wars. The Lizards were nomads, and the Spiders deeply reclusive. It was a poor fit, these disparate Races confined as they were, even given their acceptance of their fate. Their network of alliances and interdependencies would fly apart in a moment once they discovered the mists were breaking down.
    As they were sure to do, Pan thought, if the Gray Man was right about what was happening.
    “I’ve been thinking,” Prue said suddenly. They were putting away the last of the dishes they had washed. “Maybe we ought to reconsider speaking before the council.”
    Her suggestion was so out of character that for a moment he just stared at her.
    “Don’t look at me like that,” she said, frowning. “I don’t much like the idea, either. But it might be better to do as Trow suggested and to wait and see. Saying the wrong thing now could land us in a lot of trouble, Pan.”
    She was right, of course, but they had known this from the first. “You’ve been speaking with Brickey, haven’t you?” he said.
    “He came to the door last night, after talking with you.”
    “I hope you didn’t let him in.”
    She gave him a look. “He’s not dangerous, Pan. But no, I didn’t let him in; it was too late for that and I was tired. I did listen to what he had to say, though, and it makes some sense. Whatever else he is, he’s not stupid. He sees things pretty clearly. And he’s right about Skeal Eile. It’s dangerous to question his teachings.”
    Pan had heard the rumors. Those who opposed the Seraphic almost always ended up changing their minds. Some were threatened with banishment from the community. Some suffered unfortunate accidents. Some went missing altogether. He looked down at his hands, still holding one of the plates. He set it down carefully. “I don’t intend to question his teachings or his beliefs. I don’t intend to do anything but repeat what Sider Ament told us. I promised to give his warning, that’s all.”
    “I know you. It won’t stop there. You’ll be questioned on your story and you’ll fight back. It won’t help; it will only make things worse.”
    He sighed. “So you want me to do nothing, Prue? That doesn’t sound like you.”
    “I want you to think about asking Trow for Trackers to go up into the passes. If we had evidence, we could go before the council with a little more assurance that we wouldn’t be dismissed as children.”
    “You think that’s how we’ll be seen?”
    She nodded slowly. “I do.”
    He didn’t say anything for a time, mulling it over. “Maybe you’re right. But I can’t back down just because of the way people might see me afterward. Not when it’s this important. If even a few are persuaded that there might be something to what Sider Ament says, then that’s reason enough.”
    She gave him a small smile. “I thought that’s what you’d say. I told Brickey as much. You know what he said? He said it would surprise him if you said anything else.”
    Panterra reached out and put his hands on her shoulders. “Guess I’m becoming a little too predictable.”
    She moved between his arms and hugged him. “Well, that’s not a bad thing, Pan. Not a bad thing, at all.”

    N IGHTFALL CAME SLOWLY , the day dragging in spite of Pan’s anticipation. He thought afterward about what he had done during its long, seemingly endless hours, and could remember barely anything. He spent some of it with Prue, but a lot of it alone, thinking. He stopped by to reassure a dour Trow Ravenlock that he had not changed his mind and intended to make his report as promised. The latter just shook his head and turned away. He thought about visiting his oldest sister, who