Straken by Terry Brooks

handful of times and having never ventured much beyond the main halls that led to the council chambers and the rooms of the Ard Rhys. They were deep underground here, in a maze of passageways she had never seen and could never have navigated on her own. She could feel the cold permeating the rock. Even the central fires of the Keep’s furnace, the fires that burned from deep underground at the earth’s core, could not push back the chill.
    Once or twice, Trefen Morys glanced back, and each time she nodded quickly for him to go on. She was thinking of Bek, just out of reach, but she was thinking about Penderrin, as well, much farther away and more vulnerable. She was thinking about her child and how she would never be able to live with herself if something were to happen to him.
    Finally, Trefen Morys slowed, then stopped altogether, dropping into a crouch beneath the light of a torch burning in its wall bracket. Ahead, a door stood closed to whatever lay beyond.
    “A pair of guards keeps watch there,” he whispered, as she crouched next to him. “We have to silence them both. Beyond that room, stairs lead downward to a corridor of cells. Your husband is in one of them. A second pair of Gnome Hunters stands watch there—one at the bottom of the stairs, another in front of the cell that imprisons your husband. Any sort of warning will result in a swift response.”
    She nodded. “There won’t be any warning.”
    “I was able to get another note to your husband several days ago,so that he would know that someone was looking to help him. He will know we are coming, and he will be ready, even if the Gnome Hunter at his cell door attempts to kill him. I don’t know a great deal about his magic, but I gather it was a match for his sister’s, so he will have a chance to survive this.” He sighed. “I wish I could have done more.”
    She gave him a quick smile. “You have done all that could be expected of you, Trefen Morys. However this turns out, you can’t be faulted for your efforts.”
    He took her arm as she started to rise. “Wait.” He seemed suddenly nervous. “I have to tell you something. I am not a warrior Druid. I am not skilled in the use of weapons or magic as a substitute for weapons. I have magic, yes. But my studies are of rocks and soils.”
    She stared at him. “Rocks and soils?”
    He nodded. “I have never killed anyone.” He dropped his gaze. “I have never even hurt anyone. I don’t know how to fight.”
    She took a deep breath. She had fought alone before and against great odds. But she had been much younger then, harder and more resilient, reckless about her safety in a way she no longer was. Not with the lives of her husband and son at stake as well as her own. She wished suddenly that her brother were there, that Redden Alt Mer were standing with her as he had on so many other occasions. Having Big Red with her would change the odds considerably. But she might just as well wish she could fly.
    “You won’t have to fight,” she told Trefen Morys, reaching out to grip his arm reassuringly. She saw some of the tension drain from his young face. “Stay behind me and do what you can to protect yourself if you are threatened. I will dispose of the guards.” Her grip tightened. “One thing you must promise me, though. If I fall, wounded or dead, you must continue on. You must do whatever you can to reach Bek. You must free him and then tell him what you have told me. He will know what to do. Will you do that?”
    Trefen Morys nodded. “You have my word.”
    She looked down at the long knife she had taken from the Gnome Hunter and wished she had something more substantial with which to work. It had been twenty years since she had fought a battle like the one she was facing, and she knew she had lost the sharp edge of her survival instincts.
    Could she do this?
    A fierce resolution washed over her as she hefted the knife in her palm, watching the way the torchlight played across its