«But can’t you stop it?» the Valeman demanded angrily, wincing with pain from the memory of what he had been shown. «Can’t you go to them and stop them before it is too late? Surely your power is greater than theirs!»
The King of the Silver River sighed. «Within my own land, I am the way and the life. But only there. Beyond, I am without strength. I do what I can to keep the waters clean within the Silver River country; but I can do nothing for the lands beyond. Nor do I have power enough to withstand forever the poison that seeps steadily down. Sooner or later, I will fail.»
There was a moment’s silence as the two faced each other in the flickering light of the campfire. Jair’s mind raced.
«What about Brin?» he exclaimed suddenly. «She and Allanon are going to the source of the Mord Wraiths’ power to destroy it! When they have done that, won’t the poisoning stop?»
The old man’s eyes found his. «I have seen your sister and the Druid in my dreams, child. They will fail. They are leaves in the wind. Both will be lost.»
Jair went cold. He faced the old man in stunned silence. Lost Brin, gone forever…
«No,” he murmured harshly. «No, you’re wrong.»
«She can be saved,” the gentle voice reached out to him suddenly. «You can save her.»
«How?» Jair whispered.
«You must go to her.»
«But I don’t know where she is!»
«You must go to where you know she will be. I have chosen you to go in my place as savior to the land and its life. There are threads that bind us all, you see, but they are knotted. The thread you hold is the one that will pull the rest free.»
Jair didn’t know what the old man was saying and he didn’t care. He just wanted to help Brin. «Tell me what I have to do.»
The old man nodded. «You must begin by giving to me the Elfstones.»
The Elfstones! Again Jair had forgotten he had them. Their magic was the power he needed to break apart the Mord Wraith magic and any evil they might conjure up to stop him!
«Can you make them work for me?» the Valeman asked hurriedly, drawing them from his tunic: «Can you show me how to unlock the power?»
But the King shook his head. «I cannot. Their power does not belong to you. It belongs only to one to whom the magic has been freely given, and the magic was not given to you.»
Jair slumped back dejectedly. «Then what am I to do? What use are the Stones if… ?»
«Of much use, Jair,” the other interrupted gently. «But you must first give them to me. For good.»
Jair stared at him. For the first, time since the old man had appeared, the Valeman hesitated to believe. He had salvaged the Elfstones from his home at the risk of his life. Time and again, he had protected them, all for the sole purpose of finding a way to use them to aid his family against the Mord Wraiths. Now he was being asked to give up the only real weapon he possessed. How could he do such a thing?
«Give them to me,” the soft voice repeated.
Jair hesitated a moment longer, wrestling with his indecision. Then slowly he passed them to the King of the Silver River.
«Well done,” the old man commended. «You, show character and judgment worthy of your forebears. It was for these qualities that I chose you. And these qualities will sustain you.»
He slipped the Elfstones within his robes and brought forth a different pouch. «This pouch contains Silver Dust — life restorer to the waters of the Silver River. You must carry it to Heaven’s Well and scatter it into the poisoned waters. Do that, and the river will be clean again. Then you will find a way to give your sister back to herself.»
Give Brin back to herself? Jair shook his head slowly. What did the old man mean by that?
«She will lose herself.» The King of the Silver River again seemed able to read his thoughts. «Yours is the voice that will help her to find the pathway back.»
Jair still did not understand. He started to ask the questions that would clear away his confusion, but the old man shook his head slowly.
«Listen to what I say.» One thin arm reached out to him and the pouch with the Silver Dust was placed in his hands. «Now we are bound. Trust has been exchanged. So now it can be with magics. Your magic is useless to you, mine equally to me. I keep yours therefore and give you mine.»
Again he reached into the robes. «The Elfstones are three in number, one each for the mind and body and heart — magics that entwine and form the power of the Stones. Three magics, then, shall you be given. First, this.»
In his hand was a brilliant crystal on a silver chain. He passed it to Jair. «For the mind, a vision crystal. Sing to it, and it will show you the face of your sister, wherever she may be. Use it when you have need of knowing what she is about. And you will have need of knowing, for you must reach Heaven’s Well before she reaches the Maelmord.» ‘
His hand lifted to Jair’s shoulder. «For the body, strength to see you through on your journey east and to stand against the dangers that will beset you. That strength you shall find in those who will travel with you, for you shall not make this journey alone. A touch of the magic, then, to each. It begins and ends here.» He pointed to the sleeping Garet Jax. «When your need is greatest, he shall always come. He shall be protector to you until you stand at last at Heaven’s Well.»
Once more he turned back to Jair. «And for the heart, child, the final magic — a wish that shall serve you best. One time only you may call upon the wishsong and it shall give you not illusion, but reality. It is the magic that will save your sister. Use it when you stand at Heaven’s Well.»
Jair shook his head slowly. «But how am I to use it? What am I to do?»
«I cannot tell you what you must decide for yourself,” the King of the Silver River replied. «When you have thrown the Silver Dust into the basin at Heaven’s Well and the waters are clear once more, throw the vision crystal after. You must find your answer there.»
He bent forward then, his frail hand lifting. «But be cautioned. You must reach the Well before your sister enters into the Maelmord. It is written that she shall do so, since the Druid’s faith in her magic is well placed. You must be there when that happens.»
«I will,” Jair whispered and clutched the vision crystal tightly.
The old man nodded. «I have placed much trust in you. The lands and the races depend now on you, and you must not fail them. But you have courage. You shall be true. Speak the words, Jair.»
«I shall be true,” the Valeman repeated.
Gingerly the King of the Silver River rose again, a ghost in the night. A great weariness stole suddenly over Jair, pulling him down into his travel cloak. Warmth and comfort seeped slowly through his body.
«You, most of all, are a part of me,” he heard the old man say, the words faint and distant. «Child of life, the magic makes you so. All things change, but the past carries forward and becomes what is to be. Thus it was with your great–grandfather and your father. Thus it is with you.»
He was fading, dissipating like smoke into the firelight. Jair peered after him, but his eyes were so clouded with sleep that he could not seem to make them focus.
«When you awake, all will be as it was save for this — I have come. Sleep now, child. Be at peace.»
Jair’s eyes closed obediently, and he slept.
Chapter Eleven
When Jair awoke, dawn had already broken. Sunshine spilled down out of a cloudless blue sky and warmed an earth still damp with morning dew. He stretched lazily and breathed in the smell of bread and meat cooking. Kneeling next to the campfire, his back turned to the Valeman, Garet Jax was preparing breakfast.