Bek was aware that he might be overreacting to omissions that were nothing more than oversights on the part of a distraught messenger, omissions easily explained once broached. But Bek had always trusted his instincts on such things, and his instincts in this case warned him that something was not right. Because Rue felt the same way, he was inclined to keep his concerns to himself and to watch his back until he had a better understanding of what had happened.

As Swift Sure settled down inside the broad west court, where the Druid airships were anchored when not flying, it occurred to him that he had been to Paranor only twice before in his life. It was a shock to realize that he had not come more often than that, given that Grianne had been Ard Rhys for almost twenty years. But he understood the reason for it. Both times he had visited, he had been anxious to leave. The walls of the Keep closed in on him, shut him away and gave him a trapped and helpless feeling. The stone passageways reminded him of the underground lair of the Antrax. The dark forms of the Druids reminded him of the Morgawr and his Mwellrets. His time in Parkasia still haunted him, its memories unpleasantly vivid and troubling.

His sister had been anxious to explain what it was she was trying to achieve with the order, how she envisioned it serving the Four Lands. It was Walker Boh’s dream she was seeking to fulfill, and she had dedicated her life to making it come true. But it was her vision she was following, not Bek’s, and he had trouble finding reasons to believe in it as she did. He did not share Walker’s belief in the importance of the Druids to the Races; he did not accept that a Druid Council would function any more effectively or wisely than the governments already established. He trusted his sister and believed her to be capable and committed. But she was still only one person, and however powerful she might think herself, she was diminished measurably by how she had lived her life as the Ilse Witch. Her exposure to the truth of who and what she was through contact with the Sword of Shannara had caused her psyche to suffer great damage. She might have woken from the coma into which she had fallen as a result of having faced up to that truth, but he wasn’t sure she had come back from it whole.

Her responsibilities were so overwhelming and the response of those she sought to help so disdainful that he found himself wondering whether she might revert to the dark creature she had been before he found her. He hated himself for thinking that way, but he understood the pressure she was under and the weight of the task she had given herself. It was one thing to reestablish the Druid order; it was another to lead it. He wanted to tell her to let go, to come away with him. Even while she was explaining what it was she was trying to do, he wanted to urge her to stop. But, in the end, he said nothing. It was her life, not his. It was her decision.