the painted rocks that she had guarded so carefully as a child.
They traded life stories for a time, telling each other what they
had been doing, where they had been, and whom they had en-
countered on their journeys. They were relaxed, much as if their
separation had been but a few weeks rather than years. Wren
was responsible for that. Par decided. She had put him imme-
diately at ease. He was struck by the inordinate amount of con-
fidence that she exhibited in herself, such a wild, free giri,
obviously content with her Rover life, seemingly unshackled by
demands or constraints that might hold her back. She was strong
both inwardly and outwardly, and he admired her greatly for it.
He found himself wishing that he could display but a fraction of
her pluck.
“How do you find Walker?” she asked him after a time.
“Distant,” he said at once. “Still haunted by demons that I
cannot begin to understand. He talks about his mistrust of the
Elven magic and the Druids, yet seems to have magic of his
own that he uses freely enough. I don’t really understand him.”
Wren relayed his comments to Garth, and the giant Rover
responded with a brief signing. Wren looked at him sharply,
then said to Par, “Garth says that Walker is frightened.”
Par looked surprised. “How does he know that?”
“He just does. Because he is deaf, he works harder at using
his other senses. He detects other people’s feelings more quickly
than you or I would-even those that are kept hidden.”
Par nodded. “Well, he happens to be exactly right in this
instance. Walker is frightened. He told me so himself. He says
he’s frightened of what this business with Allanon might mean.
Odd, isn’t it? I have trouble imagining anything frightening
Walker Boh.”
Wren signed to Garth, but the giant merely shrugged. They
sat back in silence for a time, thinking separate thoughts. Then
Wren said, “Did you know that the old man, Cogline, was once
Walker’s teacher?”
Par looked at her sharply. ‘ ‘Did he tell you that?”
“I tricked it from him, mostly.”
“Teacher of what. Wren? Of the magic?”
“Of something.” Her dark features turned introspective mo-
mentarily, her gaze distant. “There is much between those two
that, like Walker’s fear, is kept hidden, I think.”
Par, though he didn’t say so, was inclined to agree.
The members of the little company slept undisturbed that
night in the shadow of the Dragon’s Teeth, but by dawn they
were awake again and restless. Tonight was the first night of the
new moon, the night they were to meet with the shade of Al-
lanon. Impatiently, they went about their business. They ate
their meals without tasting mem. They spoke little to one an-
other, moving about uneasily, finding small tasks that would
distract them from thinking further on what lay ahead. It was a
clear, cloudless day filled with warm summer smells and lazy
sunshine, the kind of day that, under other circumstances, might
have been enjoyed, but which on tins occasion simply seemed
endless.
Cogline reappeared about midday, wandering down out of
the mountains like some tattered prophet of doom. He looked
dusty and unkempt as he came up to them, his hair wild, his
eyes shadowed from lack of sleep. He told them that all was in
readiness-whatever that meant-and that he would come for
them after nightfall. Be ready, he advised. He refused to say
anything more, though pressed by the Ohmsfords to do so, and
disappeared back the way he had come.
“What do you suppose he is doing up there?” Coil muttered
to me others as the ragged figure dwindled into a tiny black
speck in the distance and then into nothing at all.
The sun worked its way westward as if dragging chains in its
wake, and the members of the little company retreated further
into memselves. The enormity of what was about to happen
began to emerge in their unspoken thoughts, a specter of such
size mat it was frightening to contemplate. Even Walker Boh,
who might have been assumed to be more at home with the
prospect of encountering shades and spirits, withdrew into him-