“I am willing to do that,” she answered. “To do whatever is necessary. I would begin my search, but I don’t know where to start. I have a story and the name of a girl and nothing more. I don’t even know if any of what is written is real. The tone suggests it is, but there are questions anyway. There cannot help but be questions.” She paused. “Do you know of this girl? Aleia Omarosian—that is her name. She is the one who wrote the diary. Do you know her?”

For the first time, the shade of Allanon did not answer right away.

–I know something of her–

She waited. “What is it you know?”

The shade did not answer. She contained her exasperation as the delay lengthened. “Did she write the diary? Is the diary true? Is there more that she can tell us of the Darkling boy who stole the Elfstones? Is there anything at all?”

Still the shade was silent, perhaps contemplating, perhaps weighing what answering might cost, perhaps doing something else entirely. She kept her peace, not wanting to disturb whatever debate was taking place, not wanting to do anything that would cost her a chance to learn even one new thing that could be useful.

When he spoke again, he surprised her.

–Have you considered the cost of your questions? To yourself? To others you care about? To the people you hope to save?–

She had no idea what he was talking about, and she hesitated before answering. “The Druids are prepared to give up their lives if it will help advance the efforts of the order. You know this. As for those we seek to help, I think that doing nothing might cause them more grief still.”

–What if your efforts in this undertaking are for nothing? What if you are doomed to fail?–

“Then at least we will have tried and not let fate and chance dictate the outcome.”

–Fate and chance may do so anyway–

“I know that. To some extent, I am sure they will. But there will be some things we can influence, that we can change or make better or illuminate in ways that teach and guide us.”

–Brave words–

“Would you have us do nothing, Allanon? I’ll ask it again.”

It was a bold, almost accusatory question, but she could not help herself. She wanted a better response from him, a more positive and encouraging one. She would not leave here burdened with doubt and guilt. She would not leave it so. If that were all he had to offer, she would have been better off not coming.

“Speak to me!” she demanded.