The Elf Queen of Shannara

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 required 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 disappeared 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 conditions 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 something, 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 being 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 puzzle 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 Elfstone 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 weight of Paranor’s stone settle down about him. “So I can gain my own freedom, but not yours. I can leave, but you must stay.” His own smile was hard and ironic. “I would never do that, of course. Not after you gave up your own life so that I could keep mine. You knew that, didn’t you? You knew it from the start. And Allanon surely knew. I am trapped at every turn, aren’t I? I posture about who I will be and what I will do, how I will control my own destiny, and my words are meaningless.”

“Walker, you are not bound to us,” Cogline interjected quickly. “Rumor and I fought to save you because we wished to.”

“You fought because it was necessary if I was to carry out Allanon’s charge, Cogline. There is no escaping why I am alive. And if I refuse to carry it out now, or if I fail, everything that has gone before will have been pointless!” He fought to control himself as his voice threatened to become a shout. “Look at what is being done to me!”

Cogline waited a moment, then said quietly, “Is it really so bad, Walker? Have you been so misused?”

There was a pause as Walker glared at him. “Because I have nothing to say about what is to become of me? Because I am fated to be something I despise? Because I must act in ways I would not otherwise act? Old man, you astonish me.”