to him. He had no need to confide in others.
It had been so with Shea Ohmsford. Much of the truth had been kept from Shea, left hidden for the little Valeman to discover on his own. It had been so as well with Brin’s father, when the Druid had taken him in quest of the Bloodfire. Yet Allanon’s resolve for secrecy, for deliberate and iron–willed refusal to tell to any — even those closest — all that he knew, had somehow weakened through the years gone past. Perhaps it was the aging, come upon him at last, or the inexorable passing of time that weighed so heavily upon him. Perhaps it was simply the need to share what he carried with some other living soul.
Perhaps.
He rose again from the table, another of night’s shadows floating beyond the reach of the light. A sudden breath of air, and the oil lamp went dark.
He had told so much more to the Valegirl and the highlander than to any of the others.
And still he had not told them all.
Chapter Twenty–Four
Dawn broke over the Eastland and the forests of the Anar, and the journey of the three who had come from Shady Vale resumed. Supplied with fresh provisions by the Healers of Storlock, they rode east out of the village into the woodlands beyond. Few saw them depart. A handful of white–robed Stors, sad–faced and voiceless, gathered at the stables behind the Center to lift their arms in farewell. Within minutes, the three had disappeared into the trees, gone as silently and as enigmatically as they had come.
It was the kind of autumn day fond memories conjure up of a milder season’s passing when winter snows lie deep about. It was warm and sun–filled, with the colors of the forest trees radiant and sprinkled with soft beams of light and the morning smells sweet and pleasant. Dark and chill as the days gone by had been in the wake of the passing of the late–year storms, this day was light and comforting with its dazzling blue skies and sunshine.
The promise of the day was lost, however, to Brin Ohmsford and Rone Leah. Haunted by Allanon’s dark revelation and by a tense expectation of what lay ahead, neither could share much of the warmth that the day had to offer. Separate and withdrawn, each within a dark covering of private emotions and secretive thoughts, Valegirl and highlander rode forward in determined silence through the dappled shadows of the great, dark trees, feeling only the cold that lay buried within themselves.
«Our path hereafter will be a treacherous one,” Allanon had told them as they gathered that morning before the stables where their horses had been tended, his voice low and strangely gentle. «All across the Eastland and through the forests of the Anar, the Wraiths will be watching for us. They know that we come; Paranor removed all question of that. They know as well that they must stop us before we reach the Maelmord. Gnomes will seek us, and where they do not, others who obey the walkers will. No path east into the Ravenshorn will be safe for us.»
His hands had come up then to rest upon their shoulders, drawing them close. «Still, we are but three and not so easily found. The Wraiths and their Gnome eyes will look two ways for our approach — north above the Rabb River and south out of Culhaven. Safe and unobstructed but for themselves, these are the approaches a wise man would choose. We will choose neither, therefore. Instead, we will pass where it is most dangerous — not only to us, but to them as well. We will pass directly east into the central Anar — through the Wolfsktaag, Darklin Reach, and Olden Moor. Older magics than theirs dwell within those regions — magics that they will be hesitant to challenge. The Wolfsktaag are forbidden to the Gnomes, and they will not enter, even though the Wraiths command it. There are things there more dangerous than the Gnomes we seek to avoid, but most lie dormant. If we are quick and cautious, we should pass through unharmed. Darklin Reach and the Moor are the haunts of other magics yet, but there perhaps we shall find some more friendly to our cause than to theirs…»
They rode through the western fringe of the central Anar up into the high ground that formed the doorstep to the rugged, forested humps of the Wolfsktaag. As they traveled, they searched past sunlight and warmth and the brilliant autumn colors for the dark things that lay hidden there. By midday, they had reached the Pass of jade and begun a long, circuitous climb along its southern slope, where trees and scrub hid them from view as they walked their horses in the deep shadow. Midafternoon found them well east of the pass, wending their way upward toward the high peaks. Timber and rock stretched dark and silent about them as the daylight began to wane. By nightfall, they were deep within the mountains. In the trees through which they passed, the shadows slipped now like living things. All the while they searched, yet found no sign of other life and felt themselves to be alone.
It was curious and somehow frightening that they could be so alone, Brin thought as the dusk settled into the mountains and the day came to an end. She should sense at least a touch of life other than their own, yet it was as if these peaks and forests had been stripped. There were no birds within these trees, no insects, no living creatures of any kind. There was only the silence, deep and pervasive — the silence, itself become a living thing in the absence of all other life.
Allanon brought them to a halt in the shelter of a grove of rough and splintering hickory to set their camp. When provisions were sorted, the horses tended, and the camp at ready, the Druid called them to him, ordered that no fire be lighted, and stalked off into the trees with a quick word of farewell. Valegirl and highlander stared after him wordlessly until he was out of sight, then sat down to consume a cold meal of bread, cheese, and dried fruit. They ate in darkness, not speaking, watching the shadows about them for the life that never seemed to come. Overhead, the night sky brightened with a great scattering of stars.
«Where do you think he has gone this night?» Rone Leah wondered after a time. He spoke almost as if he were asking himself the question. Brin shook her head and said nothing, and the highlander glanced away again. «Just like a shadow, isn’t he? Shifts with every change of sun and moon, appears, and then he’s gone again — always for reasons all his own. He wouldn’t share those reasons with us, of course. Not with mere humans like us.» He sighed and set aside his plate. «Except that I guess we’re not mere humans anymore, are we?»
Brin toyed with the bit of bread and cheese that remained on her own plate. «No,” she answered softly.
«Well, no matter. We are who we always were, nevertheless.» He paused, as if wondering how sure of that he really was. Then he leaned forward. «It’s odd, but I don’t feel the same way about him now that I did before. I’ve been thinking about it all day. I still don’t trust him entirely. I can’t. He knows too much that I don’t. But I don’t mistrust him either. He is trying to help, I think, in the best way that he can.»
He stopped, waiting for Brin to agree with him, but the Valegirl stayed silent, eyes turned away.
«Brin what’s troubling you?» he asked finally.
She looked at him and shook her head. «I’m not sure.»
«Is it what he told us last night — that we wouldn’t see him again after this?»
«That, yes. But it’s more than that.»
He hesitated. «Maybe you’re just…»
«Something is wrong,” she cut him short, and her eyes locked on his.
«What?»
«Something is wrong.» She said it slowly, carefully. «With him, with you, with this whole journey — but most especially with me.»
Rone stared at her. «I don’t understand.»
«I don’t understand either. I just feel it.» She pulled her cloak tightly about her, hunching down within its folds. «I’ve felt it for days — ever since the shade of Bremen appeared in the Hadeshorn, and we destroyed that Wraith. I feel something bad coming… something terrible. And I don’t know what it is. I feel, too, that I’m being watched; all the time I’m being watched, but there is never anything there. I feel, worst of all, that I’m being… pulled away from myself, from you and Allanon. Everything is changing from what it was when we started out at Shady Vale. It’s all different, somehow.»
The highlander didn’t say anything for a moment. «I suppose it’s because of what’s happened to us, Brin. The Hadeshorn, Paranor — Allanon telling us what the shade of Bremen told to him. It had to change us. And we’ve been away from the Vale and the highlands for many days now, from everything familiar and comfortable. That has to be a part of it, too.»
«Away from Jair,” she said quietly.
«And your parents.»
