Chapter Four
To Summons a Druid
"Wake up Beth," Flick quietly whispered while he lowered himself to sit upon the bed next to his wife.
Her eyes instantly opened, being so startled by her husband's soft beckoning and she instantly thought that something had happened to Will in the middle of the night.
Her heart beat wildly in her chest as she sat straight up and tossed off the covers. "Get the healer, Flick while I tend him."
Flick reached out his arms and clutched him wife before she made a dash out of their bed. "Will is fine, my dear. He is resting peacefully in his bed. I need to speak with you is all."
Beth raised her eyes to meet those of her husband and knew it must be something very serious for him to wake her from sleep. She instantly saw that her husband was fully dressing in his traveling clothes, cloak and all. "Why are you dressed like this, Flick. Are you going some where? And why are you leaving in the middle of the night?"
"I've got to go, Beth." The seriousness in the tone of his voice and the straight gaze of his eyes made her realize that this was very important to her husband. "It's Shea. I got a feeling something is very wrong, Beth. I must find him."
"But Flick, it is the middle of the night. Can't it wait until morning?" she said. "He has gone off before. Why is this any different?"
"No, Beth," the same seriousness of his voice echoed in her ears. "This is different. I can feel this deep within me. Shea's in trouble and he needs me. I fear I have waited too long. I have to go this minute."
Beth slide her legs from under the covers and scrambled off the bed. She noticed her husband's traveling bags were already packed and sitting by their bedroom door. "Can I pack you vittles for your travel and do you have enough socks and clean clothing?" She placed her hands upon her hips and visually inspected his bags.
Flick chuckled to himself at his wife in knowing how she would fuss and fret over him. "Yes, my dear. I have everything that I need."
He came up behind her and wrapped his thick arms around her and held her tightly. "I love you, Beth and I promise I'll not be gone too long. Just until I have found Shea and bring him home again."
She looked up into his soft gently eyes and stood on her tip-toes to kiss her husband's lips behind the coarse beard. "Take care of yourself, Flick and don't let anything happen to you. You come back safe and sound to me."
"I'll just have to get through Shea's thick skull and convince him that he is coming back home with me. That or hog tie him, either way, I'll find him and we'll be back safe enough."
Beth noticed that her husband did not have his scarf wrapped around his neck and she pulled away from him to run to their closest to find it. Taking it she quickly wrapped it around him and tucked it in neatly under the collar of his coat. "There now, I'll not have you getting your chill from the night air. Now off with your and hurray back. Will and I need you, too."
"You just take good care of that boy for me, Beth and I'll be home before you even miss me."
"You're too late for that, Flick," she teased. "I'm already missing you."
With one last kiss, Flick turned and grabbed his bags and without looking back, he took them and was out the door.
Beth watched as the door closed behind him and took her woolen shawl to wrap around her. Walking over to the table by their bed, taking the candle, she crept out of her room to Will's bedroom to check that he was sleeping well.
XXX
Only a single red glow for a cheroot broke the only light in the camp as Panamon Creel drawn upon it as he leaned up against a tree in the blackness of the night. His eyes remained fixed on a distant yellow glow only a few leagues from where they camped. He was glad that he convinced Shea that they should not burn no campfire during their travels into the forest. Just on the crest of the cliff was the keep of the Druid. Panamon Creel had hoped once Shea saw that it was impossible to enter the passageway, nor find the secrets of its gates, he would decide to give it up and return back for their own lands. Anyway, for him, this travel was not a waste. In fact, Shea chose the right time. His welcome was growing thin and his safety had become very guarded as his pockets became fuller and those of Leah were emptied.
Crushing out his cheroot with his booted foot, Panamon returned to where Shea was sleeping and lend down upon his knee to waken him.
"Wake up, Shea," insisted Panamon Creel and waited for his friend to rise.
"What is it?" asked Shea and he fought to bring himself fully awake. He felt that he had not been sleeping for more than an hour as he could barely focus. "It can not be dawn, yet?"
"No, my friend and we can not afford to wait until dawn," he commented. "It seems we are being followed by someone just a league away and there is another camp a few leagues a head of us and we are directly in the middle. We must keep moving and allow the cover of the night to keep our whereabouts a secret. Come, Shea we must go."
Shea quickly rose to his feet and began collecting his things to follow Panamon Creel through the forest land. They worked quickly and quietly until they were packed and moving step by step through the blackness of the night.
Dawn was just approaching when Shea and Panamon Creel were standing at the edge of the cliff and facing the steep walls of the Keep. The black walls seemed endless as they stretch across the high cliff and towered above them as if a huge mountain stood before them. The windows were blackened and there was no sight of any door or gate. But Shea knew from what Flick had told him of the keep that when Allanon entered from a lever hidden within the rock upon the wall. . Looking at the wall again, Shea knew it was going to take them sometime to check every nook and cranny to find it.
From the curve of the cliff, Shea thought he heard voices. Quickly Panamon Creel pulled Shea just behind a turret and an old fallen log to hide. From their lookout point, they saw two tall figures shrouded in black cloaks. They seemed to float across the terrain rather than walk it. They looked foreboding in stature and Shea shivered at the sight of them. Panamon Creel kept his sharp eyes upon them and watched their every move. One seemed to slither as if a snaked walked upright, while the other seemed to float or hover just inches above the ground. By the looks of them, perhaps there was more than just one druid of this keep.
"Well, Shea to your luck, it seems some druids are going to show us the way in," said Panamon Creel and he crawled to the edge of the turret and ducked behind a rock so they would not see him. Shea soon followed to keep up with his friend. Panamon Creel waved him quiet as he kept his eyes upon them.
Crouching down, they're look out spot was perfect because just in front of them the two mystic creatures stopped in front of the wall. Panamon Creel could have sworn when the slithering form reached out to count the block stones of the wall, he saw what appeared to be claws. He quickly blinked his eyes as to get a better focus. The claw hand disappeared as it pushed upon a stone that opened and he could see the cloaked form reach his hand inside for a moment. Than if by magic the wall silently moved with just the single sound of a click from a spring being released. Slowly but surely the door inched its way open and the two forms slipped inside, but did not stop to see the door close behind them. They heard their voices trail off into the tunnel that they had entered.
Thinking quickly, Panamon Creel waved to Shea to follow him and the both took off quickly to the open wall before it had a chance to close. Panamon Creel was almost through when he suddenly turned to see if Shea was behind him. Shea was on the ground trying to pull himself up after stumbling upon an embedded stone stuck deep into the dirt. His bag had fallen from his shoulder and some things lay scattered upon the dirt. Quickly Shea raced to gather them as Panamon Creel leaned upon the stone wall to keep it from closing all the way. But the wall was unyielding and much too heavy to stop. Beads of sweat formed on Panamon Creel's brow as he stood there pushing with all his might to stop the wall from closing. Within inches of it being closed, Shea squeezed in between it barely making it inside. They both knew not to make a sound in fear of being discovered by those who entered just moments ahead of them. They had hoped to hide in the cover of darkness and make their way deep with in the keep. They sat there in the darkness for what seemed to be the longest hours of Shea's life, just listening to the faintest sounds of those who entered before them. Once the sound had silenced, they began their climb of the spiral steps before them.
In Shea's mind, he replayed all that Flick had told him of the Druid's keep and how they made their way through to the rooms above them.
The stone steps were in front of them and it was just as Flick had told him. Slowly and carefully Panamon Creel and Shea climbed them. The spiral steps wound endlessly as they climbed and climbed. With any luck the two druids who entered earlier would never know of their presence.
Soon they both stood in front of a massive wooden door and as Shea remembered to touch the binding of the door and it opened with grinding iron on to iron. Panamon Creel looked at Shea and they both stood silent in the dark dampness of the keep, but heard no other sound.
They stood in a large chamber that was well light by torches upon the wall. Cautiously they entered and stood in the middle of chamber feeling that there was no one around. There were doors and a tunnel all around them and for a moment Shea froze in trying to remember which one Flick had told him that they needed to take.
Shea looked at the tunnel and he knew this was the right one. Soon they were in the back staircase and Panamon Creel came around to stand next to him.
"This staircase better not be like the one we climbed a few moments ago, Shea or you'll be finding the Druid's room by yourself!" Panamon Creel wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve and glared at his friend.
"It's not far up, just follow me," insisted Shea and he motioned Panamon Creel on. At the top of the staircase was another tunnel and at the end was another large stone door with iron handle. There was hardly any sound coming from behind the stone door. He felt the heat suddenly increase and he knew instantly where Shea was taking them. He looked at Shea in a warning way, but Shea only nodded. Lifting the handle of the stone door it opened and they were met with such a blast of heat it took their breath away. Shea went inside without waiting to see if his friend would enter. Finding the cat walks, he turned from them and instead of climbing the steps he chose to take the third door, by first triggering the level just under the rock by his foot, the door swung open and the two stood in a chamber. Quickly shutting the door and blocking out the intense heat from the chamber that they had just left, they both took in a deep breath and relaxed for awhile to regain some of their strength.
"How much farther is this room you are seeking, Shea?" asked the breathless Panamon Creel.
"Longer than you would care to travel, my friend. But to find the Druid, we must!"
Shea stood up and held his hand open for his friend to grasp it. Panamon Creel rolled his eyes before he accepted Shea's hand and reluctantly took it and stood next to him.
Walking through the chamber and then into the tunnel, they entered a corridor and seemed to wind endlessly. There were barred doors on either side of them, but Shea seemed to ignore them and continued down the corridor.
"Where does this lead?" asked Panamon Creel.
"We must find the staircase that leads upward," was all Shea commented.
"Another staircase!" snarled Panamon Creel and then added. "But wasn't there a staircase just off the catwalk in that other room?"
"It was the wrong staircase. Now come, Panamon, we have along way to travel."
On and on they half walked and ran through the long winding passageway until they came to a rotunda. On either side of the rotunda, were tunnels and Shea turned and crossed the rotunda and entered the first tunnel. At the end of the tunnel was a staircase that spiral upward and Shea began to climb it. Looking back for his friend, he saw him at the bottom step just sitting there.
"I'm not taking another step until I have a breather!" Panamon Creel said without even looking in Shea's direction. He turned slightly to see if Shea still waited for him. "I am beginning to think it would have been better for me at Leah, rather than taking you to Paranor. At least using my wit is easier then using the strength of my legs."
"For a northlander and a thief, you're certainly not in very good shape," teased Shea.
"On the contrary, Shea, my friend. I am known to move quite quickly when reasoning is profitable."
"Where I am leading you, there are treasures beyond what even you can imagine, Panamon Creel," commented Shea.
"I can imagine quite a bit, Shea."
"Then you will not be too disappointed!" stated Shea and hoped that the promise of treasure would spur his friend onward. He just did not tell his friend that if he took it, he'd have to deal directly with Allanon.
Panamon Creel rose to the occasion and kept foot step to foot step with his friend as they entered another long passageway that seemed to be longer then the one that they had crossed on the lower level.
This time, Shea suddenly stopped when he entered another rotunda and he turned to the stone door with an iron handle and he opened it. Going through the door the two stood in a large chamber with countless shelves of books and tables. There were leather bound chairs with dimly lit torches burning in iron mantles that were mounted in the wall above them. Thick rugs were scattered throughout this chamber and gave an added-warmth to this room. There were countless treasures of rare crafted items in all sorts of precious stones and metals. This caught Panama's attention as he admired each one going down the line looking them over. He did not notice what kept his friend's attention nor did he care, he was lost within his own greed.
When the sound of a click and a spring being unhinged and then a door opening, Panamon Creel turned around to see the wall of books opening to a hidden room. There in the center of the room stood a Tre-stone and the rarest aged books that Shea had ever seen. This rounded room was darkened, except what little light came from the only narrow window in the center of the furthest curve of the wall. It could have mid-day or dawn for all that Shea knew for the hours it took seeking this one room and this Tre-stone.
Panamon Creel put down the jeweled goblet and walked towards Shea who stood upon the platform in front of this stone and he called out the Druid's name.
Slowly Panamon Creel came closer to see if Shea could summons the Druid. After a moment nothing happened. Shea again called out, raising his voice even louder. "Come forth Allanon. I summons you!"
When nothing happened again, Panamon Creel smugly smiled at his friend. "Perhaps you have the wrong room and the wrong Tre-stone."
"This has the mark of Allanon upon it and this is the room in which Flick spoken of, when the Druid took him here."
"Well then perhaps the Druid will not give you audience," added Panamon Creel.
"Allanon, you will hear me and you will come to me, I'll not leave until I have spoke to you!" cried out Shea as his own frustration began to build and overwhelm him.
"Well if you are going to be awhile, I have some things to look over. Let me know when you have had enough, Shea!" said Panamon Creel arrogantly and turned quickly back to the jeweled goblet and other such treasures.
With one swift sweep of his foot, Shea kicked the Tre-stone and it reeled before it suddenly tipped over and fell to the ground. An earth quaking shuddered shook the room in which they stood and Shea began to loose his balance falling forward from the platform. Great silver light engulfed him and raised him upwards, suspending him in mid-air and sealed him in a cold silvery grave. As an ice cycle suspended over a window frame in the coldest night of winter, so was Shea. His skin was void of a healthy pink color, now looked solid and silver and cold as stone. His hair that once flown freely about his shoulders, stood still, solid and unmoving. There was no sparkle in Shea's eyes, nor was there color in them, but cold and silver. All about him the silver cloud clung onto him, unyielding to his limbs.
Panamon Creel dropped the goblet to the floor and it smashed into pieces. His eyes froze on his friend suspended in mid-air and his hand grabbed his sword at his side. Drawing it, he held it up before him fearing that something was going to happen to himself as well. He circled around the room and slowly came closer to his friend. Fear seized Panamon's heart and he called to him, half screaming, "Shea!"
A noise of movement echoed in the room and Panamon Creel turned sharply behind him and waited for whom ever to enter and to encounter him. He held his sword tightly in his hot hand and kept it out in front of himself. Slowly his feet crossed one over the other as he moved across the stone floor. His breath came in quick shallow flow and he swallowed hard from the dryness in his throat. Beads of sweat began to form as he waited not taking his eyes off the distant wall or wooden door. His sword gleamed against the glow of silver that engulfed his dearest friend. Moments ticked by, but nothing happened. Panamon Creel turned back to Shea who remained frozen in mid-air and he knew he could do nothing to help him. He was forever lost to him and Panamon Creel stood there alone and still alive. Turning quickly, he gave Shea one last look and took off running out of the room and to get himself out of Paranor.