Part 28 (2/2)
Sider nodded. ”I can't travel right away, not on my own. I don't know that I can even find a safe place while I heal. I owe you my life, but that makes you responsible for me. Ever hear of that before? So if you can find us a place to hole up and agree to stay with me for a day or so, I would be grateful. But if you can't, I'll understand.”
”Oh, I can stay with you. I can do whatever I choose. And I know where all the safe places are in this part of the country. This is my territory, Sider- I know everything there is to know.” He scratched his chin and shrugged. ”All right, I'll accept your bargain. I like you. And I don't want to think I had anything to do with you dying out here alone. And you're right-you wouldn't know where to begin to find a safe place on your own. Even if you were well enough to travel, I don't know that you would make it back without help. Not knowing as little as you do.”
Sider said nothing; there was nothing to say.
The big man rose. ”All right, then. First thing we need to do is find a place to shelter. Then we can talk. How are you for walking?”
It turned out that Sider wasn't much even for standing. He tried it with Deladion Inch's help, but he collapsed almost immediately, dizzy and weak. The big man told him to stay where he was, that there was a better way. He disappeared into the woods but was back again in minutes with a pair of saplings he had cut down. It took him a little less than twenty minutes to rig up a sled consisting of his cloak stretched over and secured to poles that he fas.h.i.+oned from the saplings with an enormous knife. Once the sled was ready, he placed Sider on it, hitched up the ends with his big hands and set out. It was an uncomfortable ride, b.u.mping along over uneven ground strewn with rocks and debris, and Sider wasn't sure he wouldn't have been better off walking. But Inch seemed to feel he wasn't ready for it, voicing again his concerns that there might be internal injuries that he couldn't know about. So Sider left it alone. He lay back and silently endured, hands clutching the black staff and feeling the magic respond. He knew that healing came more quickly to a bearer of the staff than to ordinary people, and he could already feel himself knitting inside.
The journey lasted a little more than two hours and took them down out of the rocks and into woods that were green and fresh and smelled of living things and sweet water. Sider saw nothing of either water or life, but he could sense that they were there, just out of sight. Breezes blew out of the south, clean and cool. Sunlight dappled the woods and spilled in bright streamers through gaps in the canopy, and Inch hummed and sang to himself as he trudged along.
But every now and then there were hints of darker things, of the past that Sider had expected to find. Smells of decay and harsh chemicals wafted along in the wake of the fresher breezes, there for only a second or two and then gone. He caught glimpses of ruined forest and blasted land through the trunks of the trees his bearer negotiated, barren and stark. Once, off in the distance, he saw the remains of what might have been a fortress reduced to rubble. He took all this in and wished he could scratch the itch of his curiosity by setting out for a closer look. But his healing was not complete and his strength still suspect. He would have to bide his time.
”Not so far now,” Deladion Inch advised after they had traveled for some time, but said nothing more after that.
Finally, they broke clear of the woods and emerged onto flats that were all hardpan and scrub, stretching away for miles until they disappeared into the horizon south. Gullies and ravines had been carved out of the hardpan over time by weather and water, and cl.u.s.ters of rocks formed strange monuments amid the emptiness.
Dominating the whole of this wasteland was a ma.s.sive walled ruin that climbed from one level to the next, buildings crumbling, roofs collapsed, and doors and windows black holes into the s.p.a.ces beyond. Towers and parts of the outer walls that were still standing attested to the size of what had once been a huge fortress.
It was the fortress he had seen earlier, Sider realized.
”We're here,” Deladion Inch declared, setting down the ends of the sled and rolling his shoulders wearily. ”You know, you weigh a lot more than I thought you would.”
Sider was still staring at the fortress as he eased himself into a sitting position. It looked like something out of a time he had heard about from those who still kept track of the history of the old world. But it wasn't from the time of the Great Wars; it was much older than that.
Or newer, he thought suddenly.
”When was this built?” he asked Inch.
The other man shrugged. ”Maybe two, three hundred years ago,” he answered confirming what Sider had suspected. ”Built by once-men that survived long enough to complete it and then be wiped out by a plague.” He shook his head. ”Legend has it the plague killed more than half of whoever was left after the firestorm that killed almost everyone before that.”
He looked back at Sider. ”We have a lot to talk about.”
”In there?” Sider gestured toward the ruins.
”Safe enough.”
”Doesn't look it.”
”What does? In this world, nothing's really safe. Didn't you know that?” He laughed. ”Let's take a look inside.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
TERRY B BROOKS is the is the New York Times New York Times bestselling author of more than twenty-five books, including the Genesis of Shannara novels bestselling author of more than twenty-five books, including the Genesis of Shannara novels Armageddon's Children, The Elves of Cintra Armageddon's Children, The Elves of Cintra, and The Gypsy Morph; The Sword of Shannara; The Gypsy Morph; The Sword of Shannara; the Voyage of the the Voyage of the Jerle Shannara Jerle Shannara trilogy: trilogy: Ilse Witch, Antrax Ilse Witch, Antrax, and Morgawr; Morgawr; the High Druid of Shannara trilogy the High Druid of Shannara trilogy: Jarka Ruus, Tanequil, and Straken; Straken; the nonfiction book the nonfiction book Sometimes the Magic Works: Lessons from a Writing Life; Sometimes the Magic Works: Lessons from a Writing Life; and the novel based upon the screenplay and story by George Lucas, and the novel based upon the screenplay and story by George Lucas, Star Wars : Episode I The Phantom Menace. Star Wars : Episode I The Phantom Menace. His novels His novels Running with the Demon Running with the Demon and and A Knight of the Word A Knight of the Word were selected by the were selected by the Rocky Mountain News Rocky Mountain News as two of the best science fiction/fantasy novels of the twentieth century. The author was a practicing attorney for many years but now writes full-time. He lives with his wife, Judine, in the Pacific Northwest. as two of the best science fiction/fantasy novels of the twentieth century. The author was a practicing attorney for many years but now writes full-time. He lives with his wife, Judine, in the Pacific Northwest. Terrybrooks.net
BY TERRY BROOKSSHANNARAFirst King of Shannara The Sword of Shannara The Elfstones of Shannara The Wishsong of Shannara
THE H HERITAGE OF S SHANNARAThe Scions of Shannara The Druid of Shannara The Elf Queen of Shannara The Talismans of Shannara
THE V VOYAGE OF THE J JERLE S SHANNARAIlse Witch Antrax Morgawr
HIGH D DRUID OF S SHANNARAJarka Ruus Tanequil Straken
GENESIS OF S SHANNARAArmageddon's Children The Elves of Cintra The Gypsy Morph
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