Par was looking for him this time, expecting him, anticipating
him as he would thunder in a rainstorm. He heard the door
latch give, saw it open, and watched the First Seeker come
The Talismans of Shannara 301
through. The black-cloaked figure moved to his chair without
speaking and sat. They stared at each other in the silence, mea-
suring.
“What have I not told you that I should? ” Rimmer Dall
asked finally, motionless in the growing shadows. “What an-
swers can I give? ”
par shook his head. The First Seeker had given him too
many answers and too much to consider, and it tumbled about
in his mind like colored glass in a kaleidoscope. A part of him
continued to resist everything he heard, stubborn and intracta-
ble. It would not let him believe; it would not even let him
consider. He wished that it would. His sleep was filled with
nightmares, and his waking was crowded with a senseless war-
ring of possibilities. He wanted it all f end.
He did not say this to Rimmer Dall. He asked instead about
the sounds from within the castle, the thrumming through the
walls, the pitch and whine, the sense of something stirring. The
First Seeker smiled. The explanation was simple. What Par
was hearing was the Mermidon passing through an under-
ground channel that ran beneath the keep, its waters crashing
against the walls of ancient caves below. At times you could
feel the vibrations for miles about. At times you could feel
them in your bones.
“Does it disturb your sleep? ” the big man asked.
Par shook his head. The nightmares disturbed his sleep. “If
I were to decide to believe you,” he said, letting the words slip
free before his stubborn side could think better of it, “what
would you do to help me control the magic of the wishsong? ”
Rimmer Dall sat perfectly still. “I would teach you to man-
age it. I would teach you to be comfortable with it. You could
learn how to use it safely again.”
Par stared straight ahead without seeing. He wanted to be-
lieve. “You think you could do that? ”
“I have had years to learn how. I was forced to do so with
my own magic, and the lessons have not been lost on me. The
magic is a powerful weapon. Par, and it can turn against you.
You need discipline and understanding to rule it properly. I can
give you that.”
Par’s mind felt leaden and his eyes drooped. His weariness
302 The Talismans of Shannara
was a dark cloud that would not let him think. “We could talk
about it, I guess,” he said.
“Talk, yes. But experiment, too.” Rimmer Dall was leaning
forward, intense. “Control of the magic comes from practice; it
is an acquired skill. The magic is a birthright, but it needs
training.”
“Training? ”
“I could show you. I could let you see inside my mind, let
you see how the magic functions within me. I could give you
access to the ways in which I block it and channel it. Then you
could do the same for me.”
Par looked up. “How? ”
“You could let me see inside your mind. You could let me
explore and help set in place the protections you need. We
could work together.”
He went on, explaining carefully, persuasively, but Par had
ceased to hear, locked on something vaguely alarming, some-
thing that lacked an identity, but was there nevertheless. The
stubborn part that refused to believe anything the First Seeker
said had risen up with a gasp and closed down his mind like
a trapdoor. He pretended to listen, heard bits and pieces of
what the other was saying, and gave responses that committed
nothing.
What was it? What was the matter?
After a time, Rimmer Dall left him alone. “Think about
what I have told you,” he urged. “Consider what might be
done.” The night settled in, and the darkness of Par’s chamber
was complete. He lay down to sleep, exhausted without reason,
then fought against the urge to close his eyes because he did
not want the nightmares to come again. He stared at the ceiling