The First King of Shannara

“Her magic is too powerful for her” was how he had explained it to Kinson. They were keeping watch over her in the latemorning hours after she had awakened and gone back to sleep again. The sun was high overhead, and the dark memory of the night before was beginning to fade. Paranor was a silent presence beyond the screen of the trees, gone as still as death, emptied of life. “It seems obvious that she came to the Druids in an effort to find a way to better understand it. I suppose she was not with them long enough to do so. Perhaps she asked to come with us believing we might help her.”


He shook his gray head. “But did you see? She summoned her magic to protect me from the creatures Brona had left to ward against my return, and instantly she lost all control! She seems unable to judge the measure of what is needed. Or perhaps judgment is not an issue at all, and what happens is that on being summoned, her magic assumes whatever form it chooses. Whatever the case, it rolls out of her like a flood! In the Druid’s Keep, it swallowed those creatures as if they were gnats. It was so powerful that it alerted the magic the Keep maintains for its own protection, the earth magic set in place by the first Druids. This was magic I tested on my return to make certain it could still guard against an attempt to destroy the Keep. I could not protect the Druids from the Warlock Lord, but I could ward Paranor. Mareth’s magic was so pervasive in its destruction of Brona’s creatures that it suggested that the Keep itself was in danger and thereby conjured forth the earth magic as well.”

“Hers is innate magic, you once said,” Kinson mused. “Where would it have come from to be so strong?”

The old man pursed his lips. “Another Druid, perhaps. An Elf who carries the old magic in his blood. A faerie creature, survived from the old world. It could be any of those.” He arched one eyebrow quizzically. “I wonder if even she knows the answer.”

“I wonder if she would tell us if she did” was Kinson’s reply.

Thus far, she had barely spoken of it. By the time she came awake, Bremen had gone. It was left to Kinson to advise her that she was not to use her magic again until Bremen had returned and counseled her. She accepted the edict with little more than a nod.

She said nothing of what had happened in the Keep. She seemed to have forgotten the matter entirely.

He finished his meal and looked up again. She was watching him.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I was wondering about the man we are sent to find. I was wondering why Bremen considers him so important.”

She nodded slowly. “Cogline.”

“Do you know the name?”

She did not respond. She seemed not to have heard.

“Perhaps one of your friends at Storlock will be able to help us.”

Her eyes went flat. “I have no friends at Storlock.”

For a moment he simply stared at her, uncomprehending. “But I thought you told Bremen ...”

“I lied.” She took a breath and her gaze fell away from his. “I lied to him, and I lied to everyone at Paranor before him. It was the only way I could gain acceptance. I was desperate to study with the Druids, and I knew they would not let me if I did not give them a reason. So I told them I had studied with the Stors. I gave them written documents to support the claim, all false. I deliberately misled them.” Her gaze lifted. “But I would like to stop lying now and tell the truth.”

The darkness was complete about them, the last of the daylight faded, and they sat cloaked within it, barely able to make each other out. Because they would cross the Rabb that night, Kinson had not bothered with a fire. Now he wished he had so that he could better see her face.

“I think,” he said slowly, “that this might be a good time for the truth. But how am I to know if what you tell me is the truth or simply another lie?”

She smiled faintly, sadly. “You will know.”

He held her gaze. “The lies were because of your magic, weren’t they?” he guessed.

“You are perceptive, Kinson Ravenlock,” she told him. “I like you for that. Yes, the lies were made necessary because of my magic. I am desperate to find a way to...” She hesitated, searching for the right word. ‘To live with myself. I have struggled with my power for too long, and I am growing weary and despairing. I have thought at times that I would end my life because of what it has done to me.”