«Druid…» Rone warned and started forward, but a single dark glance from the other’s eyes froze him in his tracks.
«Stand, Prince of Leah. Let her hear the truth.» The black eyes again found Brin’s. «You have played with the wishsong as you would a curious toy because that is all the use you saw for it. Yet you knew that it was more than that, Valegirl — always, deep inside, you knew. Elven magic has always been more than that. Yours is the magic of the Elfstones, born into new form in its passage from your father’s blood to your own. There is power in you of a sort that transcends any that has gone before — latent perhaps, yet the potential is unmistakable. Consider for a moment the nature of this magic you wield. The wishsong can change the behavior of any living thing! Can you not see what that means? Supple brush can be made to part for you, giving you access where there was none before. Unbending trees can be made to part as well, though they shatter with the effort. If you can bring color to leaves, you can also drain it away. If you can cause flowers to bloom, you can also cause them to wilt. If you can give life, Brin, you can also take it away.»
She stared at him, horrified. «What are you saying?» she whispered harshly. «That the wishsong can kill? That I would use it to kill? Do you think… ?»
«You asked to be shown something of its use,” Allanon cut short her protestations. «I have simply done as you wished. But I think now you will no longer doubt that the magic is much more than you thought it was.»
Brin’s dusky face burned with anger. «I no longer doubt, Allanon. Nor should you doubt this — that even so, I would never use the wishsong to kill! Never!»
The Druid held her gaze, yet the hard features softened slightly. «Not even to save your own life? Or perhaps the life of the highlander? Not even then?»
She did not look away. «Never.»
The Druid stared at the Valegirl a moment longer — as if to measure in some way the depth of her commitment. Then abruptly he wheeled away and started back toward the slope of the hollow.
«You have seen enough, Brin. We have to get on with our journey. Think about what you have learned.»
His black form disappeared into the brush. Brin stood where he had left her, aware suddenly that her hands were shaking. That tree! The way it had simply shattered, torn apart…
«Brin.» Rone was standing before her, and his hands came up to grip her shoulders. She winced at their touch. «We can’t go on with him — not anymore. He plays games with us as he has done with all the others. Leave him and his foolish quest and come back with me now to the Vale.»
She stared at him a moment, then shook her head. «No. It was necessary that I see this.»
«None of this is necessary, for cat’s sake!» His big hands drew back and fastened about the pommel of the Sword of Leah. «If he does something like that again, I’ll not think twice…»
«No, Rone.» She put her hands over his. She was calm once more, realizing suddenly that she had missed something. «What he did was not done simply to frighten or intimidate me. It was done to teach me, and it was done out of a need for haste. It was in his eyes. Could you not see it?»
He shook his head. «I saw nothing. What need for haste?»
She looked to where the Druid had gone. «Something is wrong. Something.»
Then she thought again of the destruction of the tree, of the Druid’s words of warning, and of her vow. Never! She looked quickly back at Rone. «Do you think I could use the wishsong to kill?» she asked softly.
For just an instant he hesitated. «No.»
Even to save your life? she thought. And what if it were not a tree that threatened, but a living creature? Would I destroy it to save you? Oh, Rone, what if it were a human being?
«Will you still come with me on this journey?» she asked him.
He gave her his most rakish smile. «Right up to the moment when we take that confounded book and shred it.»
Then he bent to kiss her lightly on the mouth, and her arms came up to hold him close. «We’ll be all right;” she heard him say.
And she answered, «I know.»
But she was no longer sure.
Chapter Six
When Jair Ohmsford regained consciousness, he found himself trussed hand and foot and securely lashed against a tree trunk. He was no longer in the hunting lodge but in a clearing sheltered by closely grown fir that loomed over him like sentinels set to watch. A dozen feet in front of him, a small fire burned, casting its faint glow into the shadowed dark of the silent trees. Night lay over the land.
«Awake again, boy?»
The familiar, chiding voice came from out of the darkness to his left, and he turned his head slowly, searching. A squat, motionless figure crouched at the edge of the firelight. Jair started to reply, then realized that he was not only tied; he was gagged as well.
«Oh yes, sorry about that,” the other spoke again. «Had to put the gag in, of course. Couldn’t have you using your magic on me a second time, could I? Do you have any idea how long it took me to get out of that wood bin?»
Jair sagged back against the tree, remembering. The Gnome at the inn — that was who had followed him, caught up with him at Rone’s hunting lodge, and struck him from behind…
He winced at the memory, finding that the side of his head still throbbed.
«Nice trick, that thing with the snakes.» The Gnome chuckled faintly. He rose and came into the firelight, seating himself crosslegged a few feet from his prisoner. Narrow green eyes studied Jair speculatively. «I thought you harmless, boy — not some Druid’s whelp. Worse luck for me, eh? There I was, sure you’d be so scared that you’d tell me right off what I wanted to know — tell me anything just to get rid of me. Not you, though. Snakes on my arms and a four–foot limb bashed up against my head, that’s what you gave me. Lucky I’m alive!»
The blocky yellow face cocked slightly. «Course, that was your mistake.» A blunt finger came up sharply. «You should have finished me. But you didn’t, and that gave me another chance at you. Suppose that’s the way you are, though, being from the Vale. Anyway, once I got free of that wood bin, I came after you like a fox after a rabbit. Too bad for you, too, because I wasn’t about to let you escape, after what you’d put me through. Not by a whisker’s cut, I wasn’t! Those other fools, they’d have let you outrun them. But not me. Tracked you three days. Almost had you at the river, but you were already across and I couldn’t pick up your trail at night. Had to wait. But I caught you napping at that lodge, didn’t I?»
He laughed cheerfully and Jair flushed with anger. «Oh, don’t be angry with me — I was just doing my job. Besides, it was a matter of pride. Twenty years, and no one’s ever gotten the best of me until now. And then it’s some nothing boy. Couldn’t live with that. Oh, knocking you senseless — had to do that, too. Like I said, couldn’t be taking chances with the magic.»
He got up and came a few steps closer, his rough face screwed up with obvious curiosity. «It was magic, wasn’t it? How’d you learn to do that? It’s in the voice, right? You make the snakes come by using the voice. Quite a trick. Scared the wits out of me, and I thought there wasn’t much left that could scare me.» He paused. «Except maybe the walkers.»
Jair’s eyes glistened with fear at mention of the Mord Wraiths. The Gnome saw it and nodded. «Something to be scared of, they are. Black all through. Dark as midnight. Wouldn’t want them hunting me. Don’t know how you got past that one back at the house…»
He stopped suddenly and bent forward. «Hungry, boy?» Jair nodded. The Gnome regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, then rose. «Tell you what. I’ll loosen the gag and feed you if you promise not to use the magic on me. Wouldn’t do you much good anyway trussed up to that tree — not unless those snakes of yours can chew through ropes. I’ll feed you and we can talk a bit. The others won’t catch up until morning. What about it?»