She laughed without humor, without kindness. “I knew enough by then to be wary of such statements. Walker was not my enemy. He had done nothing to me or to anyone else so far as I knew. But I was in no position to refuse. When I suggested that the task was beyond me, she brushed my concerns aside and warned that it would take only a casual word dropped here or there to make the villagers of Grimpen Ward believe that it was I who had given the bag of gold with the snake in it to the Addershag. Besides, the Ilse Witch was my patron, my mentor. I was afraid of her, but I felt a kinship to her, as well. I agreed to do as she asked. I became her spy aboard the Jerle Shannara.”
Tears filled her eyes, sudden and unexpected in the wake of her self-reproaching laughter. “But an odd thing happened, Ahren. Something neither she nor I had planned. Even before he came to see me, before I had touched the map or discovered anything more of what the voyage would require, I began to have other visions.” She leaned close to him, the tears spilling down her cheeks. “They were of Walker and me. They were so strong, so overpowering, that I could not ignore them. They were of a blue ocean and of islands, a flying ship, and battles being fought and men dying. It was the voyage Walker sought to make, and I was seeing small parts of it. Most were so vague and jumbled that I could not sort them out, but one was very clear. Of those who traveled with Walker, these would be among them—one who would save his life and one who would try to take it; one who would love him unconditionally and one who would hate him with unmatched passion; one who would lead him astray and one who would bring him back again.”
She paused. “I saw no faces to connect to any of these acts. Only my own, standing outside the vision, watching Walker—always very close, observing and waiting. But for what? I couldn’t tell. Yet I was there each time, shadowing him.”
“But now you know who these people are, who it is who will do these things to Walker,” he interrupted, speaking for the first time, wanting to help her. “Now you can identify each one.”
She laughed anew, and this time her laughter was so bitter and raw that he flinched from it. Her eyes turned wild, and she tossed back her hair in a defiant gesture. “Oh, yes! Yes, Ahren, I know who these people are! It is so ironic, so fitting! I knew these people from the start, but I didn’t read the vision carefully enough! I was blinded by my own needs and wants and concerns! Who are all these people to Walker, who would take his life and save it, who would lead him astray and bring him back again, who would love and hate him both? Who are they, Ahren? I’ll tell you. They are all the same person. They are all me!”
She seized his arms, gripping him so tightly he could feel her nails digging into his skin. “I did all those things to him and felt those ways about him! I almost caused him to die on Shatterstone by keeping from him that part of my vision that warned of poison thorns, and then I saved him with my empathic talent because I could not bear to let him die! I’ve loved and hated him both, sometimes without quite knowing which was which! He brought me with him when he shouldn’t have, he put me in this terrible, hateful position because he trusts me, and he thinks even now that I will save him from whatever’s trapped him down here! And I will, Ahren! I’ve led him astray so many times I’ve lost count! Each time, he’s found his way back on his own. But this time, this one time, I will be the one to bring him back or I will die trying!”
She was crying so hard she was shaking, racked with sobs, her silvery hair a pale curtain reflecting her tears in threads of gleaming dampness. Her hands loosened their grip on his arms, and he took hold of her in turn, not wanting to break the contact.
“Now you know my secret,” she whispered roughly. “It’s much worse than yours, much uglier. I am consumed by it. I can’t ever be forgiven for what I’ve done. I can’t ever redeem myself.”
He shook his head and bent close. “Everyone can be forgiven, Ryer Ord Star. Of anything and everything. It isn’t always easy, but it is possible.”
She shuddered in response. “Do you want to know something, Ahren?” Her voice was so small he could barely hear it. “When I used my empathic talent to heal Walker after he was poisoned on Shatterstone, I became linked to him in a way that has never happened before. It was as if our magics joined in some way, and I could see all the way into his soul. It was so painful! I knew that pain was there—I’d seen it in his eyes when we first met, felt it in his hands—but I didn’t realize it was so vast! It overwhelmed me and by doing so, opened me up to him as he had been opened to me. He saw what was hidden inside of me; he saw everything. He knew what I was, what I had come to do. He understood the danger I presented to him and to the others.”
She shook her head in wonderment. “But he kept it all to himself. He never spoke of it. He put it all aside as if it no longer mattered, and he let me stay. I think he hoped that by doing so he would make me an ally instead of an enemy. And he did. I quit doing anything of importance for the Ilse Witch. She could still track the airship’s progress through me, but I guess Walker did not think that was very important. She already knew where we were going; she had read the mind of the castaway to learn what waited. What I would no longer do, what he was counting on me not to do, was to hide any truths from him, any parts of visions experienced, any secrets that might cause him injury. I was his now, willingly. I will be his always, so long as he needs me. Our connection transcends everything. It is strong enough that I feel his need for me, down here in this dark place, in these passageways and chambers, in all this metal. I can feel him reaching out to me, when there is no one else he can touch.” She swallowed her tears. “It is why I go to him now. It is why I have to find him.”
She broke their embrace and wiped at her eyes with both hands. Then she began to cry anew, hugging herself, rocking back and forth on her heels. “Isn’t it sad that I might be all he has?” she asked, her voice breaking. “So pathetic.”
He took her in his arms and held her while she cried, not trying to stop or soothe her, but just holding her. He thought several times to say something comforting or wise, but nothing he considered felt right. Silence seemed best, and so he kept it. Around them, the magic of the phoenix stone swirled like murky water, steady and somehow reassuring, an escape that gave them space and time to let their emotions settle. Ahren looked out through the haze to the corridor beyond, where it was empty and silent. It felt as if they really were alone down there, abandoned and forgotten by everyone.
Ryer stopped crying, disengaged from his arms, and looked directly at him. “Are you still coming with me?”
He nodded. He had never thought to do otherwise.
“You don’t have to,” she said. “I wouldn’t expect you to honor your promise, not after knowing that I—”
“Stop it,” he interrupted quickly, remonstratively. “Don’t say any more.”
She studied him a moment, then leaned forward to kiss his cheek. In the warmth and softness of her lips, he could feel a measure of his self-worth and respect return.
They rose then and continued through Castledown’s endless corridors and chambers, shrouded by the magic of the phoenix stone, guided by their instincts and need. The young seer was still warring with her inner demons, but her pale, ethereal features were tight with resolve. She had taken Ahren’s hand again, even though they had determined she did not need to do so. Ahren was glad. Her touch did at least as much for him as his did for her. He felt as if they were children lost in a dark forest, with night coming on and wolves all about, blindly trusting in a talisman he neither understood nor controlled. The magic of the phoenix stone was protecting them, but how much longer would it last? He did not want to be caught unprepared or short of their goal.