back Paranor and the Druids.”
“Yes, Paranor and the Druids-both. You realize what that
means, don’t you? You understand?”
Walker’s brow knotted with frustration and reluctance. “Yes,
old man.” He breathed harshly in response. “I must become a
Druid if Paranor is to be restored. I have accepted that, though
it shall be as I wish it and not as a shade three hundred years
dead intends.” His words were angry now and quick. “I will not
be as they were, those old men who-”
“Walker!” Cogline’s anger was as intense as his own, and he
went still immediately. “Listen to me. Do not proclaim what you
will do and how you will be until you understand what is re-
quired of you. This is not simply a matter of accepting a charge
and carrying it out. It was never that. Acceptance of who you
are and what you must do is just the first of many steps your
journey requires. Yes, you have recovered the Black Elfstone
and summoned its magic. Yes, you have gained entry into dis-
appeared Paranor. But that is only the beginning of what is
needed.”
Walker stared. “What do you mean? What else is there?”
“Much, I am afraid,” the other whispered. A sad smile eased
across the wrinkled features, seamed wood splitting with age.
“You came to Paranor much in the same way as Rumor and I.
The magic brought you. But the magic gives you entry on its
own terms. We are here at its sufferance, alive under the con-
ditions it dictates. You have already noted how you seem-
almost a ghost, having substance and life yet not enough of
either to be as other mortal men. That should tell you some-
thing, Walker. Look about you. Paranor appears the same-here
and yet not here, vague in its form, not come fully to life.”
The thin mouth tightened. “Do you see? We are none of
us-Rumor, you and I, Paranor-returned yet to the world of
men. We are still in a limbo existence, somewhere between be-
ing and nonbeing, and we are waiting. We are waiting, Walker,
for the magic to restore us fully. Because it has not done that
yet, despite your use of the Black Elfstone and your entry into
the Keep. Because it has not yet been mastered.”
He reached down and gently closed Walker’s fingers back
around the Black Elfstone, then slowly sat back, a frail bundle
of sticks against the shadows.
“In order for Paranor to be restored to the world of men,
the Druids must come again. More precisely, one Druid, Walker.
You. But acceptance of what this means is not enough to let
you become a Druid. You must do more if the magic is to
be yours, if it is to belong to you. You must become what you
are charged with being. You must transform yourself.”
“Transform myself?” Walker was aghast. “It would seem that
I have done so already! What further transformation is required?
Must I disappear altogether? No, don’t answer that. Let me puz-
zle this through a moment on my own. I have the legacy of
Allanon, possession of the Black Elfstone, and still I must do
more if any of this is to mean anything. Transform myself, you
say? How?”
Cogline shook his head. “I don’t know. I know that if you
do not do so you will not become a Druid and Paranor will not
be restored to the world of men.”
“Am I trapped here if I fail?” Walker demanded furiously.
“No. You can leave whenever you choose. The Black Elf-
stone will see you clear.”
There was an uncertain moment of angry silence as the two
men faced each other, vague shadows seated on the stone bench
beneath the castle walls. “And you?” Walker asked finally. “And
Rumor? Can you come away with me?”
Cogline smiled faintly. “We gained life at a cost, Walker.
We are tied to the magic of the Druid Histories, irrevocably
bound. We must remain with them. If they are not restored into
the world of men, then we cannot be brought back either.”
“Shades.” Walker breathed the word like a curse. He felt the