The Elfstones of Shannara (27 page)

The instructions seemed explicit enough, and Perk did not question them. But then on the morning of his second day out, while flying south along the eastern edge of the Rock Spur, he caught sight of Wil and Amberle, two bundled forms asleep in a pine grove below him. After winging downward for a closer look, he found himself faced with an immediate dilemma. Who were these travelers, Elves like himself, a young man and a younger girl, clearly from another part of the land? What were they doing in this rugged country so poorly equipped? A moment's thought was all that it took, and the decision was made. He had been ordered to avoid any contact with the denizens of the Wilderun, but no directions had been given him regarding his contact with anyone else—an oversight on the part of his grandfather, perhaps, but a fact nevertheless. Despite the maturity and caution instilled in Perk by the intense demands of his training, he was still a boy with a boy's spirit of adventure. His grandfather had left the door cracked before him, and it was natural enough that he should want to push it open the rest of the way. After all, although he was an obedient boy, he was also a curious one. Sometimes the former must be permitted to give way to the latter.

Fortunately for Wil and Amberle, this proved to be one such time.

 

Perk finished his story, then patiently answered questions for a moment or two. But his eagerness to begin his new adventure finally got the better of him. With an unmistakable look of anticipation, he asked his new companions if they were ready yet to depart. Genewen, although not used to carrying more than one rider, could easily do so. She would have them across the mountains of the Rock Spur before they knew it.

Wil and Amberle looked doubtfully at the giant bird. Had there been another way, they would have taken it gladly. Even the thought of flying made their stomachs feel queasy. But there was no alternative, and there the boy stood, hands on hips, waiting for matters to get underway. With a shrug of his shoulders to Amberle, Wil announced that they were ready. After all, if a mere boy could do this, certainly they could also.

With Perk in the lead, they moved over to Genewen. The giant bird was equipped with a leather harness that was bound tightly about her body. Perk showed them foot loops that would allow them to climb the harness to the center of the Roc's feathered back. He held Genewen steady while they did so, then fitted their boots to toe straps, directed their hands to knotted grips, and, as an added precaution, bound them to the harness with safety lines. That way, he informed them, if the wind should blow them loose, they still would not fall. Such assurances gave small comfort to the Valeman and the Elven girl, who were scared enough as it was. Perk then gave each a small section of a brownish root which he told them to chew and swallow. This root, he explained, would ease the discomfort of flying. They ate it hurriedly.

When both were secure, the Elven boy removed a long, leather-bound crop from beneath the harness straps and slapped Genewen smartly. With a piercing cry, the Roc spread her great wings and rose sharply into the morning air. Petrified, Wil and Amberle watched the ground drop away beneath them. The trees of the pine grove shrank as Genewen circled high above the meadowland, catching the wind currents and arcing swiftly west toward the peaks of the mountain range. For the Valeman and the Elven girl, the sensation was indescribable. At first there was a feeling somewhere between sickness and exhilaration, and only the juice of the strange root kept their stomachs from turning over entirely. Then the sickness lessened, and the feeling of exhilaration began to heighten, sweeping through them as they watched the horizons of the land below broaden and stretch wide, a spectacular panorama of forestland, swamp, mountains, and rivers. It was an incredible sight. Before them the black peaks of the Rock Spur rose up like jagged teeth out of the earth, and the thin, blue ribbon of the Mermidon wound its way down out of the rock; to the north was the dark smudge of the Matted Breaks, set deep within the green of the Westland forests; to the east, and now far distant, lay the twin towers of the Pykon; to the south, the haze of the Shroudslip settled against the threshold of the Irrybis. It was all there, the whole of the land, spread out below them as if contained in some hidden valley upon whose crest they stood, all sharply revealed by a rising morning sun that burned down out of a cloudless, brilliant blue sky.

Genewen rose to a height of several hundred feet, winging her way steadily into the Rock Spur, weaving through its maze of peaks, slipping deftly through breaks and splits, dipping downward into valleys, then rising again to clear each new ridge line. Wil and Amberle clung to the harness with grips of iron, yet the ride was smooth; the great bird responded to the motions of the small boy who guided her, his hands and legs nudging and coaxing with a series of movements familiar to the Roc. The wind whipped across them in short bursts, yet was light and warm on this summer's day, blowing softly out of the south. Perk glanced quickly over his shoulder at his new companions, a fierce grin splitting his freckled face. The smiles they returned were less than enthusiastic.

They flew on for nearly an hour, winging deep within the mountains until the forestland had disappeared from view entirely. From time to time, they could see the haze of the Shroudslip appear through breaks in the peaks to the south, gray and friendless; then even that was gone. The mountains closed in about them, massive towers of rock that rose up across the sunlight and left them in shadow. Wil found himself thinking momentarily of what it would have been like for Amberle and him, had they attempted to cross this forbidding range afoot. It was unlikely that they could have done it, particularly without the aid of the slain Elven Hunters. He wondered if Demons still tracked them. Undoubtedly they did, he decided, but he took some small measure of satisfaction in the knowledge that even the Reaper, had it managed somehow to survive the collapse of the catwalk in the Pykon, would find it impossible to follow their trail this time.

A short while later, Perk guided Genewen down to a high, treeless bluff, covered with long grass and wildflowers, which overlooked a mountain lake. The Roc settled smoothly back upon the earth and her riders disembarked, Perk springing nimbly from the giant bird's back, Wil and Amberle stiff and awkward in their movements, their faces filled with relief.

They rested on the bluff for half an hour, then climbed back upon Genewen and were off once again, winging westward through the massive peaks. Twice more during the morning they landed, resting themselves and Genewen, and then continued on. Each time Perk offered to share food and drink with his companions, and each time they quickly declined. All they would agree to accept was another piece of the strange root. Perk offered it to them without comment. It had been like this for him, too, when he had first flown.

By late morning, they had reached the eastern edge of the Wilderun. From atop Genewen, they could see the whole of the valley clearly, a tangled mass of forest ringed by the mountains of the Rock Spur and Irrybis and the broad, misty sweep of the Shroudslip. It was a forbidding stretch of woodland, heavily overgrown, a jumble of depressions and ridges, spotted with bogs and a scattering of solitary peaks that broke out of the trees like grasping arms. There was no sign of habitation, no villages nor isolated dwellings, no planted fields nor grazing stock. The whole of the valley was wilderness, dark and friendless. Wil and Amberle stared down into it apprehensively.

Moments later, Perk guided Genewen back into the shadow of the mountains and the Wilderun disappeared behind the peaks. They flew on without stopping until shortly after midday, when Perk turned Genewen south again. In a slow, gradual arc, the Roc slipped through a narrow break in the peaks. Ahead of them, the Wilderun again came into view. They flew toward it, dropping along a rugged slide that fell away at its lower end into the bowl of the valley. At the edge of the slide, Genewen banked right, winging downward toward a broad slope that sat back against the base of the peak and overlooked the Wilderun. Scattered dumps of trees dotted the slope, and Perk brought Genewen to rest behind a covering of fir.

Wil and Amberle climbed gingerly from the Roc's back, rubbing muscles that had grown stiff and cramped with the long ride. After a quick command to Genewen, Perk followed them down, his face flushed and excited.

“You see? We did it!” He was grinning from ear to ear.

“We did, indeed.” Wil smiled ruefully, massaging his backside.

“What do we do next?” The boy wanted to know immediately.

Wil straightened himself, grimacing. “You don't do anything, Perk. This is as far as you go.”

“But I want to help,” Perk insisted.

Amberle stepped forward and put her arm about the boy. “You did help, Perk. We would not have gotten this far without you.”

“But I want to go . . .”

“No, Perk,” Amberle interrupted quickly. “What we must do now is far too dangerous for you to become involved in. Wil and I must go down into the Wilderun. You have said yourself that the Wilderun is forbidden to you. So you must leave us now. Remember, you promised Wil that you would do so when we asked.”

The boy nodded glumly. “I am not afraid,” he muttered.

“I know.” The Elven girl smiled. “I don't think much of anything would frighten you.”

Perk brightened a bit with this compliment, a quick smile lighting his face.

“There is one thing more you can do for us.” Wil put a hand on his shoulder. “We don't know very much about the Wilderun. Can you tell us anything about what we might find down there?”

“Monsters,” the boy answered without hesitation.

“Monsters?”

“All kinds. Witches, too, my grandfather says.”

The Valeman could not decide whether to believe that or not. After all, the grandfather was trying to keep the boy out of the Wilderun and that was the kind of warning one would expect him to give.

“Have you ever heard of a place called Safehold?” he asked impulsively.

Perk shook his head no.

“I didn't think so.” Wil sighed. “Monsters and witches, huh? Are there any roads?”

The boy nodded. “I will show you.”

He led them out of the fir trees to a small rise where they could look down upon the valley.

“See that?” he asked, indicating a mass of fallen trees at the base of the slope. Wil and Amberle peered downward until they saw where he was pointing. “There is a road beyond those trees that leads to the village of Grimpen Ward. All roads in the Wilderun lead to Grimpen Ward. You cannot see anything of it from here, but it's down there, several miles into the forest. My grandfather tells me that it is a bad place, that the people are thieves and cutthroats: Maybe, though, you could find someone there to guide you.”

“Maybe we can.” Wil smiled his thanks. At least the thieves and cutthroats were preferable to the monsters and witches, he thought to himself. Still, it wouldn't hurt to be careful. Even if all the thieves and cutthroats and witches and monsters were imaginary, there were Demons searching for them, perhaps even waiting for them, who were not.

Perk was deep in thought. After a moment, he looked up. “What will you do when you find this Safehold?” he asked.

Wil hesitated. “Well, Perk, when we find Safehold, we find the talisman I told you about. Then we can return to Arborlon.”

The boy's face lighted. “Then there is something more that I can do,” he announced eagerly.

He reached into the small pouch that hung about his neck and withdrew the silver whistle, handing it to the Valeman.

“Perk, what  . . .?” Wil began as the whistle was thrust into his palm.

“I have five days more before I must return to the Wing Hove,” the boy interrupted quickly. “Each day I will fly once across the valley at noon. If you need me, signal with that whistle and I will come. The sound cannot be heard by humans—only by the Rocs. If you can find the talisman within the five days that I have left, then Genewen and I will carry you north again to your homeland.”

“Perk, I don't think so . . .” Amberle started to object, shaking her head slowly.

“Wait a minute,” Wil interjected. “If Genewen could fly us north again, we would save days. We would avoid all of the country we had to travel through to get here. Amberle, we have to get back as quickly as we can—you know that.”

He turned quickly to Perk. “Could Genewen make such a trip? Could you?”

The boy nodded confidently.

“But he has said already that the Wilderun is forbidden to him,” Amberle pointed out. “How can he land within it, then?”

Perk thought it out. “Well, if I set Genewen down just long enough to pick you up—that would only take a moment.”

“I do not like this idea one bit,” Amberle declared, frowning at Wil. “It is entirely too dangerous for Perk—and it is a violation of the trust that he has been given.”

“I want to help,” the boy insisted. “Besides, you told me how important this was.”

He sounded so determined that for a moment Amberle could not think of a further argument. Wil took this opportunity to step in again.

“Look, why don't we compromise? I'll make a promise. If there is any danger to Perk, I'll not summon him under any circumstances. Fair enough?”

“But Wil . . .” the boy began.

“And Perk will agree that at the end of five days he will return to the Wing Hove as he has promised his grandfather, whether or not I have summoned him,” the Valeman finished, cutting short the objections Perk was about to raise.

Amberle thought it over for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. “All right. But I will hold you to your promise, Wil.”

The Valeman's eyes met hers. “Then it is agreed.” He turned back to the boy. “We have to be going now, Perk. We owe you a lot.”

He took the Elf's rough hand and gripped it firmly in his own.