away. In the Druids later.” His voice had gone soft and insistent.
“I am a man like any other except that I possess the magic. Like
you. Par. Somehow I inherited it over the generations of my
family that lived before me in a world in which use of magic
was commonplace. The magic scattered and seeded itself-not
within the ground, but within the bodies of the men and women
of the Races. It took hold and grew in some of us, and now we
have the power that was once the province of the Druids alone.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on Par. “You have such
power. You cannot deny it. Now you must understand the truth
of what having that power means.”
He paused, waiting for Par to respond. But Par had gone cold
to the bone as he sensed what was coming, and he could only
howl silently in denial.
“I can see in your eyes that you understand,” Rimmer Dall
said, his voice softer still. “It means, Par Ohmsford, that you
are a Shadowen, too.”
Coil counted the seconds in his mind, stretching the process
out for as long as he could, thinking as he numbered each that
Par must surely appear. But there was no sign of his brother.
The Valeman shook his head in despair. He paced away from
the craggy wall of the vault and back again. Five minutes was
up. He couldn’t wait any longer. He had to go in. It frightened
him that in doing so he would be leaving their backs unpro-
tected, but he had no choice. He had to discover what had hap-
pened to Par.
He took a deep breath to steady himself as he prepared to
enter.
That was when the hands seized him from behind and dragged
him down.
“You’re lying!” Par shouted at Rimmer Dall, forgetting his
fear, taking a step forward threateningly.
“There is nothing wrong with being a Shadowen,” the other
answered sharply. “It is only a word that others have used to
label something they don’t fully understand. If you can forget
the lies you have been told and think of the possibilities, you
will be better able to understand what I am telling you. Suppose
for a moment that I am right. If the Shadowen are simply men
who are meant to be successors to the Druids, then wielding the
magic is not only their right, it is their responsibility. The magic
is a trust-wasn’t that what Allanon told Brin Ohmsford when
he died and marked her with his blood? The magic is a tool that
must be used for the betterment of the Races and the Four Lands.
What is so difficult to accept about that? The problem is not with
myself or with you or with the others like us. The problem is
with fools like those who govern the Federation and think that
anything they cannot control must be suppressed! They see any-
one different than themselves as an enemy!”
The strong face tightened. “But who is it that seeks domi-
nation over the Four Lands and its people? Who drives the Elves
from the Wesdand, enslaves the Dwarves in the East, besieges
the Trolls in the North, and claims all of the Four Lands as its
own? Why is it, do you think, that the Four Lands begin to
wither and die? Who causes that? You have seen the poor crea-
tures who live in the Pit. Shadowen, you think them, don’t you?
Well, they are-but their condition is brought about by then-
keepers. They are men like you and me. The Federation locks
them away because they show evidence of possessing magic and
are thought dangerous. They become what they are thought to
be. They are starved of the life the magic could feed them and
they grow mad! That child on Toffer Ridge-what happened to
her that caused her to become what she is? She was starved of
the magic she needed, of the use of it, and of everything that
would have kept her sane. She was driven into exile. Valeman,
it is the Federation that causes disruption in the Four Lands with