Without pausing to measure his reaction, she released him and walked over to the other men. She took each by the hand, praising him for his courage and determination, congratulating him on escaping a dangerous trap and living to celebrate the victory they had achieved over the Druids and their magic. The men nodded wordlessly or offered muted words of thanks, simultaneously embarrassed and proud, hauling their battered bodies upright long enough to face her and be recognized. She knew they loved her—worshipped her in some instances. She knew their loyalty was unquestionable. She spoke to each of them by name. Her soldiers had all been with her a long time, and before she was finished she found herself weeping for all the ones who were no longer there.
As she was finishing, she caught sight of Kol watching her from one side, his expression one of lingering disbelief and joy. As if he was making sure she was real and not a ghost. A complex man, Kol’Dre. In looks, he was unexceptional—of medium height, with a dark complexion and brown hair and eyes where most Skaar were tall and fair-skinned with blue eyes and blond hair. He was also not one to stand in the ranks and engage in hand-to-hand combat as she did. He was not a believer in the value of honor and glory, of proving courage through battles, of risking all for the sake of companions and country. He thought himself above all that—a shade more clever, a twist more intelligent. But this did not mean he was a timid man or a coward; he was a formidable opponent when he needed to be. He had killed other men without compunction—and some of them for her. But he was not fashioned in the traditional Skaar mold, and he was aware that it set him apart. To a very great extent, it was what defined him.
Which was what made him so valuable to her. A Penetrator must be a chameleon, able to think independently from those around him while remaining in the background, an unremarkable presence. He must have sharp eyes and quick wits and a good memory. He must be bold but not reckless.
She could go on, but all that mattered was how well Kol’Dre had served her in this capacity and how closely their fortunes were tied. Again and again, the two of them had led the way for the Skaar nation as they expanded their empire into Eurodia, claiming country after country for their king. Even if her upbringing had required more of her than his had of him, and even if he longed to bed and perhaps one day to wed her, he did not let this interfere with the job he had been given to do.
“Come,” she called to him, beckoning him over to join the others. “We need two stretchers and four pairs of hands to carry Fer’Pas and Anan’Lor back to the airship. The rest of the advance force will need to be told what’s happened before we set out again. Kol, set our brave soldiers to their tasks.”
And Kol’Dre, his hopes renewed, jumped to obey.
THREE
Dar Leah stood in a dappled landscape of shadows and moonlight and watched Ajin d’Amphere walk away. On the one hand, he knew it was foolish for him to allow her to leave. She was the commander of a foreign incursion into the Four Lands—the leader of a force that had defeated two different Troll tribes and destroyed virtually the entire Fourth Druid Order. She was a large part of the reason Paranor had been sent from the Four Lands into a limbo existence, trapping Drisker Arc—the last honorable Druid—inside. Yet now he had set her free to return to what remained of her army and continue on with her plans for the Four Lands, whatever they happened to be.
On the other hand, what was he supposed to do with her if he didn’t let her go?
His most urgent need was to find and retrieve Drisker Arc from within Paranor and get him back into the Four Lands to help deal with both the Skaar invasion and Clizia Porse, and there was little Ajin d’Amphere could do to help with this. She would be a distraction and a burden if he tried to keep her a prisoner. He would have to lock her up somewhere and find someone to keep an eye on her, since it was obvious he could hardly haul her along with him. Nor did he think she was a bargaining chip with the Skaar; she was probably right about how they would react if he tried to make her one. It didn’t take much to realize he was a little short of choices, and his immediate efforts to help Drisker were what really mattered, even though he knew she was dangerous, an enemy of the Four Lands who would eventually come looking for him again.
Besides, he also knew she was right about his obligation to her. She was owed her freedom. She had done as much for him, giving him back his life when she could have snuffed it out. She talked about honor and courage as if they were a moral code she believed in, and from what he had seen of her actions, it appeared she did. He wasn’t entirely comfortable admitting it, but he found that he admired her.
Maybe even more than admired her.
He watched her until she was out of sight, then continued watching for a few minutes more, trying to understand his behavior. When you felt closer to a young woman who had just killed virtually every last Druid you had sworn to protect than you did to the Druids themselves, it suggested you had your priorities mixed up. Or maybe your sense of loyalty. But he didn’t think so. The truth was that, in retrospect, he really did admire her more than he had admired most of them.
He shook his head at himself, still lost in his thoughts, until he remembered what he was supposed to be doing. Ajin had said she would not alert any other Skaar survivors to his presence, but standing around to find out if she meant it did not seem wise. With a last glance at the empty ground where Paranor had stood not two hours ago, he sheathed his sword, turned around, and walked away.
His plans for helping Drisker were already forming in his head.
If things had been different, he would have sought out Clizia Porse. But having watched her dispatch the Keep to parts unknown, presumably knowing Drisker was still inside, he was pretty sure she was unlikely to help. Drisker had not trusted her, and in the end his doubts had proved well founded. It was clear enough that Clizia had betrayed him and had plans of her own regarding the Druid order, if there was ever to be another, along with any future return of Paranor. How she would manage all this he had no idea. Nor did it matter just now.
What he needed to know was this. How was he supposed to get Drisker Arc back into the Four Lands when, save for the Sword of Leah, he did not have any magic to call upon? He could only think of one person who might help, and that was Tarsha. She wasn’t yet a Druid, but she was a Druid’s student. She had studied under Drisker and she had powerful magic of her own, as heir to the iconic wishsong that had served so many Druid allies in the past—including members of his own family. If anyone could find a way to help Drisker, it would be her.
But first he had to find out where she was.
He knew where she was going; she had told him that much. But whether she was already there, still on her way, or finished and headed back to Emberen was unclear. At least as things stood just now.
So things would have to change.
He reached Drisker’s little two-man and climbed aboard, powering up the diapson crystals and opening the parse tubes. He wasted no time giving further thought to his decision. Time was something he did not have to waste, and he had a long flight ahead.