“To Brin and Jair Ohmsford,” Paxon interjected. “A familiar story in my family. Rone Leah went with Brin on her quest to find the Ildatch. Allanon led them, but it was Brin’s use of the wishsong that was key to their success. Although, I believe, her brother’s lesser magic turned out to be just as important.”

“It did. Neither could have succeeded without the other. She had the real magic; he had the illusion of real magic. But in the end, she needed him to save her. Here’s what’s interesting, though. His illusory magic changed as he grew older and eventually became the real thing. He became her equal in use of the wishsong. There were stories of what happened to them later on in life, when both had use of the wishsong magic.”

“And that was only the beginning of its presence in the Ohmsford line, wasn’t it?” he asked. “Didn’t it reappear in the time of Morgan Leah?”

Avelene nodded, tapping the notes she was reading. “It says so right here. Keratrix has done a thorough job of compiling the information. The Ohmsford brothers, Par and Coll, inherited it several hundred years later, at a time when magic was outlawed throughout most of the Four Lands. Only Par had it in the beginning, but then it surfaced in Coll, as well. It was similar to what happened with Brin and her brother Jair, though the effect and the extent of its presence differed. But together they found a way to use it to help defeat the Shadowen, who were seeking to drain all the elemental magic that lies within the earth and use it for their own purposes. Hard to imagine anyone being able to do such a thing, but apparently the Shadowen had found a way. Walker Boh played a central role in the effort to stop them. He was Allanon’s successor, and each was the only Druid of his time.”

“It must have been incredibly difficult for a single Druid to stand alone against all the terrible creatures of dark magic that tried to destroy the Four Lands.” Paxon shook his head. “How much it must have cost them.”

Avelene gave him a look. “It cost them everything. It cost them their lives. Walker Boh died on the journey to Parkasia. Allanon died on the journey to find the Ildatch. Since then, we’ve always had more than one Druid in the order.”

“Still, even now, with Aphenglow gone forever from Paranor,” Paxon said, “the order feels fragile. Arcannen is still out there, and I don’t expect he’s forgotten what the Druids did to him. He’s not finished with us. I wish we had Aphenglow back.”

“Don’t be too quick to write off Isaturin,” Avelene said quickly, her eyes narrowing. “He might just surprise you.”

Paxon blushed. “I didn’t mean to imply that he is the lesser person. I don’t have that right. But I knew her so well, and I don’t really know him. She gave me my chance as Blade. She helped me find something that mattered. When my sister was threatened, she brought her to Paranor and helped her heal. She was the one who recognized that Chrys had use of the wishsong. I guess I am in debt to her so deeply that I see her as superior.”

Avelene grinned, her smile making her suddenly look beautiful. “Listen to you, opening up at last about your sister. I was wondering how long it would take. When you admitted you knew we were going in search of someone who apparently has used the wishsong, I waited for you to mention her. It was Aphenglow who told me, months before she left us. Did you know that?”

He shook his head. “I assumed she told only Isaturin.”

“She told me, as well. Do you know why?”

“I don’t. She must have trusted you.”

Avelene laughed. “I suppose, but I think she had no choice. She knew the end was approaching, and she had to pass along the things she knew that would otherwise be lost. Most of these, she imparted to Isaturin because she had selected him as her successor. But when it came to your sister, she found herself in a bind. Isaturin knew, but what if something happened to him? That left you. You hadn’t shown any inclination to tell Chrysallin what might happen to her. She didn’t approve of your decision, but she also wanted to give you time to come to terms with the problem.”

“So she told you?”

“Yes, but there’s more to the story. Two years ago, she selected me for a special task. She wanted someone to research the evolution of the wishsong magic in the Four Lands, beginning with Wil Ohmsford’s transformation as a result of using the Elfstones improperly. She chose me to do this. She didn’t tell me why exactly; she didn’t say anything about your sister. She was more circumspect than that. But the wishsong was the most powerful Elven magic in the Four Lands, and it was essentially a wild magic. It could not be contained; its appearance could never be determined in advance. It resided in the Ohmsford bloodline, but it didn’t manifest itself in every generation, and no one had ever been able to determine in which members of the family it would surface. It’s been gone since the time of Redden and Railing Ohmsford, so far as anyone knows. But she believed that at some point the wishsong would reappear, and when it did she wanted someone in the order to be prepared to deal with it. She wanted one of us to be an authoritative source. I became that person.”

“Then, six months ago, she told you about Chrys,” he finished.

“Right before she died. I wasn’t to do anything to persuade you. I was to monitor your sister and observe. Obviously, I would have counseled you if she had agreed to let me. But she didn’t.”

“Yet you choose to tell me all this now?”

“It’s past time I did, Paxon. Like you with Chrys, I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, or when I should say it. But this journey has given me a reason to decide. Besides, you’re not a boy. You’re a grown man. You need to hear how other people think about the things you’re not sure about. Not in a critical way, but constructively. So I’m telling you everything. Maybe it will help. Maybe I can offer insight. But it is pointless for me not to be honest with you about what I know and how I know it.” Her sharp features softened. “I know you’ve struggled with this.”

“More deeply than you can imagine. I juggle my choices like live coals and burn all the while. I live with the possibility that Chrys will become catatonic again. I wish I had a better sense of what to do.” He paused. “Maybe what happens on this search will help me decide. Maybe when we discover what this magic we’re looking for really is and who is using it, the solution to my own situation will become clearer.”

“Maybe,” she agreed. Then, with an ironic smile, she added, “Or more complicated.”

They didn’t talk much after that. Avelene began reading through her notes again, pursing her lips and wrinkling her forehead as she did so. It gave her an odd look, but Paxon understood. She was intense and fully engaged in what she was doing. That look pretty much defined her; that was how she had seemed to him every time he had encountered her since his arrival at Paranor. She didn’t do things in a casual manner; she gave herself over to her efforts entirely. Like himself, she had found her life here. Perhaps not so dramatically, but she had found it all the same.

He leaned back against the wall of the pilot box and stared out into the blue of the morning sky. He remembered another journey like this one on a similar quest, and he started thinking about Leofur, the woman he had met—Arcannen’s estranged daughter.

She was smart and resourceful and accomplished, and she had dazzled him at the time. He had felt so intensely about her, but somewhere along the way he had lost that. She had given him the time and space to consider his feelings. She had told him to think about whether or not she was one of the things in his life he needed to leave behind.

It hadn’t helped that he had devoted so much of his time to serving the needs of the Druids and looking after his sister. Free time barely existed for him, and when he found a chunk of it here and there, he chose to use it doing things that didn’t require him to fly all day to another city.