“No, you’re not. You’re just saying that.”
Par grinned back in spite of himself. “I am not!”
“Yes, you are. You just want to put me off my guard so you
can start in again with your confounded decision-making once
we’re out in the middle of that lake where I can’t walk away
from you!” His brother was laughing openly now.
Par did his best to look mortified. “Okay, it’s true. I’m not
sorry.”
“I knew it!” Coil was triumphant.
“But you’re wrong about the reason for the apology. It has
nothing to do with getting you out in the middle of the lake. I’m
just trying to shed the burden of guilt I’ve always felt at being
the older brother.”
‘ ‘Don’t worry!” Coil was doubled over.’ ‘You’ve always been
a terrible older brother!”
Par shoved him, Coil shoved back, and for the moment their
differences were forgotten. They laughed, took a final look about
the campsite and pushed the skiff out onto the lake, clambering
aboard as it reached deeper water. Coil took up the oars without
asking and began to row.
They followed the shoreline west, listening contentedly as the
distant sounds of birds rose out of the trees and rushes, letting
the day grow pleasantly warm about them. They didn’t talk for
a while, satisfied with the renewed feeling of closeness they had
found on setting out, anxious to avoid arguing again right away.
Nevertheless, Par found himself rehashing matters in his
mind-much the same as he was certain Coil was doing. His
brother was right about one thing- there were a lot of unan-
swered questions. Reflecting on the events of the previous eve-
ning, Par found himself wishing he had thought to ask the old
man for a bit more information. Did the old man know, for
instance, who the stranger was who had rescued them in Var-
fleet? The old man had known about their trouble there and must
have had some idea how they escaped. The old man had man-
aged to track them, first to Varfleet, then down the Mermidon,
and he had frightened off the woodswoman-Shadowen or what-
ever-without much effort. He had some form of power at his
command, possibly Druid magic, possibly old world science-
but he had never said what it was or what it did. Exactly what
was his relationship with Allanon? Or was that simply a claim
without any basis in fact? And why was it that he had given up
on Par so easily when Par had said he must think over the matter
of going off to the Hadeshom for a meeting with Allanon?
Shouldn’t he have worked harder at persuading Par to go?
But the most disturbing question was one that Par could not
bring himself to discuss with Coil at all-because it concerned
Coil himself. The dreams had told Par that he was needed and
that his cousin Wren and his uncle Walker Boh were needed as
well. The old man had said the same-that Par, Wren, and
Walker had been called.
Why was there no mention of Coil?
It was a question for which he had no answer at all. He had
thought at first that it was because he had the magic and Coil
didn’t, that the summons had something to do with the wish-
song. But then why was Wren needed? Wren had no magic
either. Walker Boh was different, of course, since it had always
been rumored that he knew something of magic that none of the
others did. But not Wren. And not Coll. Yet Wren had been
specifically named and Coil hadn’t.
It was this more than anything that made him question what
he should do. He wanted to know the reason for the dreams; if
the old man was right about Allanon, Par wanted to know what
the Druid had to say. But he did not want to know any of it if it
meant separating from Coll. Coil was more than his brother; he
was his closest friend, his most trusted companion, practically
his other self. Par did not intend to become involved in some-
thing where both were not wanted. He simply wasn’t going to