The High Druid's Blade by Terry Brooks

Author:Terry Brooks [Brooks, Terry]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780345540713
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2014-07-08T00:00:00+00:00

It was nearing nightfall when Grehling made his way toward Dark House from the airfield with his delivery. A small box had come in during the afternoon, shipped from Arishaig for Arcannen. Normally, he would have brought it over at once. But Arcannen was not in Wayford now in any case, and he saw no need to rush. He waited until his shift at the airfield was finished—his father had given him the night off—before making the delivery.

He had no idea what was in the box and didn’t care to know. All that mattered was getting it where it was supposed to be and ending his involvement. His attitude toward the sorcerer had not improved since the incident with Paxon Leah and his sister, and he doubted that would change anytime soon.

He was closing in on his destination when he saw the old woman Mischa coming out of an alleyway beside the building where she lived. Right away he froze in place until she paused to look behind her, and then he stepped quickly into the deep shadows of a doorway. It was already hard to see, the light leached from the sky by night’s arrival and by rolling clouds that had blanketed the city since sunrise. Pressed back against the walls of the alcove, he watched the old woman creep into view like a predator in search of food and start down the street toward Dark House.

Immediately he decided to wait awhile before continuing on. He didn’t like Mischa. He couldn’t have said what it was exactly, only that his fear and dislike of her was a tangible thing and he suspected she was evil in a way that matched Arcannen. She and the sorcerer were two of a kind, twin dark stars in a firmament of scheming and machinations. He had only spoken to her a couple of times, and a couple was more than enough for him to form an opinion. It wasn’t that she threatened him or tried to harm him. It was his conviction that she could do either—and it wouldn’t cause her to lose much sleep if she did.

Even the way she moved was unnerving. Like a spider. He was small and skinny, so there wasn’t much of him to spy, but he was frozen in place nevertheless. People often didn’t see him because he was not particularly noticeable. He used that to his advantage here, willing her not to look in his direction but to keep moving ahead.

She did so, disappearing around a corner and moving out of sight.

He glanced back at the building. A single light burned in a window on the second floor. The rest of the building was dark.

That was probably where she had her rooms.

He wondered why she seemed so furtive around her own home, as if not wanting anyone to see where she was coming from. She lived there, after all; everyone knew it. So why all the stealth and suspicion? Why all the casting about, as if afraid she would be seen?

He wondered suddenly what her place was like inside.

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