“It might have been different,” he repeated woodenly.

Allanon said nothing. At his feet, the small fire was dying slowly into reddish embers as the night closed about them. Shea picked up the bowl of soup and finished it quickly, feeling the drowsiness slip through him once more. He was nodding when Allanon stirred unexpectedly in the darkness and moved next to him.

“You believe me wrong in not telling you the secret of the Sword?” he murmured softly. It was more a statement of fact than a question. “Perhaps you are right. Perhaps it would have been better for everyone if I had revealed it all to you from the first.”

Shea looked up at him. The lean face was a mask of dark hollows and angular lines that seemed the wrappings of some perpetual enigma.

“No, you were right,” the Valeman replied slowly. “I’m not sure I could have handled the truth.”

Allanon’s head tilted slightly to one side, as if considering the possibility.

“I should have had more faith in you, Shea. But I was afraid.” He paused as a trace of doubt clouded the Valeman’s face. “You don’t believe me, but it’s true. To you, to the others as well, I have always been something more than human. It was necessary, or you would never have accepted your role as I gave it to you. But a Druid is still a human being, Shea. And you have forgotten something. Before he became the Warlock Lord, Brona was a Druid. Thus to some extent, at least, the Druids must bear responsibility for what he became. We permitted him to become the Warlock Lord. Our learning gave him the opportunity; our subsequent isolation from the rest of the world allowed him to evolve. The entire human race might have been enslaved or destroyed, and the guilt would have been ours. Twice the Druids had the opportunity to destroy him-and twice they failed to do so. I was the last of my Peoples-if I were to fail as well, then there would no one left to protect the races against this monstrous evil. Yes, I was afraid. One small mistake and I might have left Brona free forever.”

The Druid’s voice dropped to a whisper and he looked down for an instant.

“There is one more thing you should know. Bremen was more to me than simply my ancestor. He was my father.”

“Your father!” Shea came fully awake for an instant. “But that’s not poss…”

He trailed off, unable to finish. Allanon smiled faintly.

“There must have been times when you guessed that I was older than any normal man could be, surely. The Druids discovered the secret of longevity following the First War of the Races. But there is a price-a price that Brona refused to pay. There are many demands and disciplines required, Shea. It is no great gift. And for our waking time, we pile up a debt that must be paid by a special kind of sleep that restores us from our aging. There are many steps to true longevity, and some are not pleasant. Not one is easy. Brona searched for a way different from that of the Druids, a way that would not carry the same price, the same sacrifices; in the end, he found only illusion.”