Ilse Witch-Voyage of the Jerle Shannara, Book 1, Terry Brooks

Walker’s black eyes swept the room. He gestured at the map laid out before them. “How do you think the castaway who brought us the original of this map managed to get all the way from here to the coast of the Westland?”

He waited a moment, but no one answered. “It is a voyage of months, even by airship. How did the castaway manage it, already blind and voiceless and probably at least halfmad?”

“Someone helped him,” Bek offered, not wanting to listen any longer to the uncomfortable silence. “Maybe the same someone who helped him escape.”

The Druid nodded. “Where is that person?”

Again, silence. Bek shook his head, not eager to assume the role of designated speaker for the group.

“Dead, lost at sea during the escape, probably on the voyage back,” Rue Meridian said. “What are you getting at?”

“Let’s assume that is so,” Walker replied. “You have had a chance to study the map at length during this voyage. Most of the writings are ‘done not with words, but with symbols. The writings aren’t of this age, but of an age thousands of years old, from a time before the Great Wars destroyed the Old World. How did our castaway learn that language?”

“Someone taught it to him,” Rue Meridian answered, a thoughtful, somewhat worried look on her sunbrowned face. She tossed back her long red hair impatiently. “Why would they do that?”

“Why, indeed?” Walker paused. “Let’s assume that the Elven expedition that Kael Elessedil led thirty years ago reached its destination just as we have, and then something happened to it. They were all killed, all but one man, perhaps Kael Elessedil himself. Their ships were destroyed and all trace of their passage disappeared. How did they find their way here? Did they have a map, as we do? We must assume so, or how would the castaway know to draw one for us to follow? To make the copy we have, they must have followed the route we followed. They must have visited the islands of Flay Creech, Shatterstone, and Mephitic, and found the keys we found. If so, how did those keys get back to the islands from which they were taken?”

Another long silence filled the room. Booted feet shifted uncomfortably. “What are you saying, Walker?” Ard Patrinell asked.

“He’s saying we’ve sailed into a trap,” Redden Alt Mer answered softly.

Bek stared at the Rover Captain, repeating his words silently, trying to make sense of them.

“I have given this considerable thought,” Walker said, folding his arm into his robes, a pensive look on his dark face. “I thought it odd that an Elf should have possession of a map marked with symbols he couldn’t possibly know. I thought it convenient that the map spelled out so clearly what was needed for us to find our way here. The keys were not particularly well concealed. In fact, they were easily gained once the creatures and devices that warded them were bypassed. It struck me that whoever hid the keys was more interested in seeing if and how we managed to overcome the protectors than whether or not we found the keys. I was reminded of how hunters trap animals, laying out bait to lure them to the snare, the bait itself having no value. Hunters think of animals as cunning and wary, but not of intelligence equal to their own. Animals might mistrust a baited trap instinctively, but they would not be able to reason out its purpose. That sort of thinking seems to be at work here.”

He paused and looked at Big Red. “Yes, Captain, I think it is a trap.”

Redden Alt Mer nodded. “The keys are merely bait. Why?”

“Why not just provide us with a map and let us find our way here?

Why bother with the keys at all?” Walker looked around the room, meeting each person’s eyes in turn. “To answer that, you have to go all the way back to the first expedition. A different technique was employed to lure the Elves to this place, but the purpose was probably the same. Whoever or whatever brought us here is interested in something we have. I wasn’t sure what it was at first, but I am now. It is our magic. Whatever hunts us wants our magic. It used the mystery of the first expedition’s disappearance to lure us here. It knows we possess magic because it has already encountered the power of the Elfstones that Kael Elessedil carried. So it expects us to have magic, as well. Requiring us to gain possession of the three keys gave it an opportunity to measure the nature and extent of that magic. The protectors of the keys were set in place to test us. If we could not overcome them, we had no business coming here.”

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