stood a chance of being able to walk away.”
Walker leaned back in the chair that cushioned him, lean
face shadowed by lank dark hair and beard, the eyes so pene-
trating it seemed that nothing could hide from them. “From the
time of Shea Ohmsford, the Druids have made us their own,
haven’t they?” he mused, cool and distant. “They found in us
something that could be shackled, and they have held us pris-
oner ever since. We are servants to their needs—and paladins
to the races.”
Cogline felt the air in the room stir, a palpable response to
the flow of magic that rose from Walker’s voice. He had
sensed it more than once since Walker had come out of the
Keep, a measure of the power bestowed on him. More Druid
than man, he was a manifestation of the dark arts and lore that
once, long ago, the old man had studied and rejected in favor
of forms of the old-world sciences. Opportunity lost, he
thought. But sanity gained. He wondered if Walker would find
peace in his own evolution.
“We are just men,” he said cautiously.
And Walker replied, smiling, “We are just fools.”
They talked late into the night, but Walker remained unde-
cided on a course of, action. Find the others of his family,
yes—but where to begin and how to go about it? Use of his
newfound magic was an obvious choice, but would that use
reveal him to the Shadowen? Did his enemies know what had
happened yet—that he had become a Druid and that Paranor
had been brought back? How strong was the Shadowen magic?
How far could it reach? He should not be too quick to test it,
he kept repeating. He was still learning about his own. He was
34 The Talismans of Shannara
still discovering. He should not be hasty about what he chose
to do.
The debate wore on, and as it did so it began to dawn on
Walker that something was different between Cogline and him-
self. He thought at first that his reluctance to commit to a
course of action was simply indecision—even though that was
very unlike him. He soon realized it was something else alto-
gether. While they talked as they had of old, there was a dis-
tance between them that had never been there before, not even
when he had been angry with and mistrustful of the old man.
The relationship between them had changed. Walker was no
longer the student and Cogline the teacher. Walker’s
transformation had left him with knowledge and power far su-
perior to Cogline’s. Walker was no longer the Dark Uncle hid-
ing out in Darklin Reach. The days of living apart from the
races and forswearing his birthright were gone forever. Walker
Boh was committed to whom and what he had become—a
Druid, the only Druid, perhaps the single most powerful indi-
vidual alive. What he did could affect the lives of everyone.
Walker knew that. Knowing, he accepted that his decisions
must be his own and the making of them could never again be
shared, because no one, not even Cogline, should have to bear
the weight of such a terrible responsibility.
When they parted finally to sleep, exhausted anew from
their efforts. Walker found himself besieged by a mix of feel-
ings. He had grown so far beyond the man he had been that in
many ways he was barely recognizable. He was conscious of
the old man staring after him as he retreated down the hall to
his sleeping room and could not shake the sense that they were
drawing apart in more ways than one.
Cogline. The Druid-who-never-was made companion to the
Druid-who-would-be—what must he be feeling?
Walker didn’t know. But he accepted reluctantly that from
this night forward things would never be the same between
them again.
He slept then, and his dreams wer^ tenuous and filled with
faces and voices he could not recognize. It was nearing dawn
when he woke, an urgency gripping him, whispering insidi-
ously at him, bringing him out of his sleep like a swimmer out
The Talismans of Shannara 35
of water, thrusting to the surface and drawing in huge gulps of