The other grunted. “By the Druid. Not by me.”
“Grianne really is my sister, isn’t she? The Ilse Witch is my sister? I need to hear you say it.”
The bright eyes glimmered fierce and sharp within the cowl, all that was visible of the other’s face. “She is your sister. Why would I tell you otherwise? Do you think I am the Druid’s tool, as the witch would have you be?”
Bek shook his head. “I had to ask.”
The shape-shifter grunted, not entirely mollified. “Don’t ask such questions again. Not of me.” He folded his arms into his cloak. “Enough of this. What’s happened to the others who went ashore with you? I’ve had no chance to search for them. I boarded the witch’s airship during the collision off Mephitic because I thought I would be more useful there and might learn something that would help us gain an advantage. But she almost found me out, and I was forced to hide myself carefully, to wait for a chance to make my escape. She came alone in search of Walker, so I followed. She led me to that clearing and to you. But not to Walker. What’s become of him?”
Swiftly, Bek filled him in on the disastrous events of the past day, of the attempt to penetrate the ruins, of the traps found waiting, of the company’s decimation and the scattering of its members. With Ryer Ord Star and the Elven Tracker Tamis he had fled to the clearing where the Ilse Witch had found him. Of the fates of Quentin, Panax, Ahren Elessedil, and Ard Patrinell, he could not be certain. Tamis had gone looking for them, but she had not come back. Walker had disappeared into the black tower that dominated the center of the ruins and had not come out.
“We’ll need help to search for them,” Bek said. “Especially if the Ilse Witch and the Mwellrets are looking, too.”
Truls Rohk rocked back slightly on his heels and gave an audible sigh. “We’ll have some difficulty finding any. There’s bad news everywhere in this business. Your sister used her magic to immobilize the Jerle Shannara’s crew. She boarded the ship and took them all prisoner. She has locked them belowdecks, and she controls both ships. Black Moclips is anchored in the bay, where you went ashore. The Jerle Shannara is downriver, closer to the ice gates. There’s no help to be had from either.”
Bek felt as if the ground had fallen away beneath his feet. Whatever else had been taken from them, at least they’d had the Jerle Shannara to retreat to. Now that haven was lost, as well. They were trapped on Ice Henge. They couldn’t even get word of where they were to the Wing Riders.
He thought suddenly of Rue Meridian and felt a sharp pang of terror, one much sharper than he would have expected. He took a steadying breath. “Are the Rovers unharmed and well?” he asked, trying to sound casual.
The shape-shifter shrugged. “No one was hurt in the boarding. I don’t know what’s happened since, but probably nothing.”
“Shades! We’ve lost everything, Truls. You and I and maybe one or two more are all that’s left, alive and free.” He heard a hint of desperation creep into his voice and tried to block it away. “We have to do something. At least we have to go back and face Grianne, find a way to convince her that she’s an Ohmsford, make her see that she’s been-“
“Slow down, boy,” Truls Rohk said. “Let’s take a deep breath and think this through. There’s no going back to face the Ilse Witch just yet. What’s already happened is still too fresh in her mind. We need a way to reach her besides what you’ve already tried. Something she can’t brush aside as easily as your words.”
He glanced meaningfully over Bek’s shoulder. The boy glanced with him and found himself staring at the pommel of the Sword of Shannara still strapped across his back. In the excitement of his encounter with his sister, he had forgotten he was carrying it.
He looked back at the shape-shifter. “You mean, I should try using this?”