“You don’t seem surprised to see me,” she offered mildly, moving fluidly within her tied-up robes, her face lost in shadow beneath her hood. Her eyes were on him, searching. “You knew I would come, didn’t you?”
“I knew. Where is Truls Rohk?”
“The shape-shifter?” She shrugged. “Still looking for me where I can’t be found. He’ll come too late to help you this time.”
“I don’t want his help. This is between you and me.”
She stopped a dozen paces away, and he could feel her tension.
“Are you ready to admit to me that you lied about who you are? Are you willing to tell me why you did so?”
He shook his head. “I haven’t lied about anything. I am Bek. I am your brother. What I told you before was true. Why can’t you believe me?”
She was silent a moment. “I think you believe it,” she said finally, “but that doesn’t make it true. I know more of this than you do. I know how the Druid works. I know he seeks to use you against me, even if you don’t see it.”
“Let’s say that’s true. Why would he do so? What could he hope to gain?”
She folded her arms into her robes. “You will come with me back to the airship and wait for me there while I find him and ask him. You will come willingly. You will not try to escape. You will not try to harm me in any way. You will not use your magic. You will agree to all this now. You will give me your word. If you do so, you have a chance to save your life. Tell me now if you will do as I ask. But be warned-if you lie or dissemble, I will know.”
He thought about it, standing silent in the night, facing her through a wash of moonlight, and then nodded. “I’ll do what you ask.”
He felt her humming softly, her magic reaching out to him, surrounding and then infusing him, a small tingle of warmth, probing. He did not interfere, simply waited for her to finish.
She came forward and stood right in front of him. She reached up and lowered the hood so he could see her strong, pale, beautiful face. Grianne. His sister. There was no anger in her eyes, no harshness of any sort. There was only curiosity. She reached out and touched the side of his face, closing her eyes momentarily as she did so. Again, he felt the intrusion of the wishsong’s magic. Again, he did not interfere.
When she opened her eyes again, she nodded. “Very well. We can leave now.”
“Do you want my weapons?” he asked her quickly.
“Your weapons?” She seemed startled by the question. She glanced at the sword and long knife perfunctorily. “Weapons are of no use to me. Leave them behind.”
He tossed the long knife aside, but left the Sword of Shannara in place. “I can’t give up the sword. It isn’t mine. It was given to me in trust, and I promised I would look after it. It belongs to Walker.”
She gave him a sharp look. “To the Druid?”
He was taking a chance telling her this, but he had thought it through carefully and the risk was necessary. “It is a talisman. Perhaps you know of it. It is called the Sword of Shannara.”
She came right up against him, her face only inches from his own, her startling blue eyes boring into his. “What are you saying? Give it to me!”
He did so, handing it over obediently. She snatched it from him, stepped back again, and examined it doubtfully. “This is the Sword of Shannara? Are you certain? Why would he give it to you?”
“It’s a long story. Do you want to hear it?”
“Tell me on the way.” She handed the talisman back. “You bear the weight of it while we travel. Just don’t let me find it in your hands again.”
“You can keep it if you want.”
There was a flicker of amusement on her pale face. “I don’t need you to tell me that. I can take it from you whenever I choose. Make sure you remember.”