The High Druid's Blade (The Defenders of Shannara, #1)(33)

Aphenglow regarded him steadily. “You don’t think it was simply luck, I gather?”

“I don’t. I wish I did. But I think someone knew we were coming and told them so.”

“A spy.”

“Within the order. Yes. It is the best explanation, though not the easiest to accept.”

“No, hardly that.” She looked out her window for a long time, saying nothing. “Why would anyone go to so much trouble to claim a magic that seemed to have so little value? It was a minor magic when it revealed itself to the scrye. Is it possible it was much stronger than we believed? Or that it somehow evolved?”

“That would be unusual,” Starks offered quietly.

The Ard Rhys glanced at Paxon, who was doing his best not to be noticed. “What do you have to add to all this?” she asked suddenly. “You were there. What did you see that Starks didn’t?”

Paxon hadn’t planned on saying anything, so for a moment he was left speechless. “I only saw what he saw. Except …”

He paused, remembering suddenly. “Except that the man sitting at the table who went out the door ahead of us looked familiar. I didn’t see his face. It was the way he moved, how he held himself.” He shook his head. “But I’m not sure.”

“He reminded you of Arcannen, didn’t he?” she pressed him.

He nodded. “He did. But I just don’t know.”

“Well, he would be one who would be magic hunting. And he is a powerful magic user.” Starks smoothed back his dark hair and shrugged. “We should put an end to him, Mistress. Whether he was there or not, we’ve had enough of him.”

The Ard Rhys made no response, but instead got to her feet. “Is there anything more to report?”

To Paxon’s relief, Starks shook his head. He hadn’t said one word about the Highlander’s impetuous and dangerous charge across the pasture or how close he had come to getting himself killed. He hadn’t offered criticism of any kind.

“You may go, then. And thank you both for your service. Paxon, tomorrow you will report back to Sebec in the morning and Oost in the afternoon to continue your instruction. Starks, please write down everything you’ve told me for the records on magic retrieval. Now go eat something and then get some rest.”

And that was the end of matters for several weeks. During that time, Paxon began training with magic, as well as weapons, abandoning the heavy wooden sword in favor of his own blade. It was Oost Mondara who determined he was ready, and Oost who turned him back over to Sebec for his lessons on using magic. Paxon was surprised when he discovered it was to be Sebec, mostly because the Druid seemed so young—not much older than his student, after all. But it made sense that the Druid who had provided him with his lessons on the theory of magic’s uses during their days of long talks and discussions should be the same one who provided his practical experience.

And he liked Sebec. Working with him was easy, and communication was uncomplicated and direct. With Oost, even now, there was a clear delineation between teacher and student, and Paxon never even thought about trying to cross that line. But Sebec was more a friend than a superior or mentor, and their relationship felt more like one of equals, though Paxon never doubted for a moment that the Druid was the more experienced and skilled.

This became clear on their first day of training together. Although there was no actual combat involved in learning how to use the magic contained in the Sword of Leah, it was Sebec who, from the beginning, understood the various ways in which it might be employed.

“You have to start thinking of it as a weapon that has multiple functions. You’ve seen it act to defend you, an instinctive reaction of the magic of the talisman when the holder is threatened. But there are likely other forms of protection it can offer, as well, if you know how to summon them. Perhaps it can ward you as a shield or covering, can thrust away, as well as shatter other magic. Maybe it can burn or strike a blow or become a thunderous wind or a heart-wrenching wail. Or be small or large, soft or loud. But everything it can do depends on your heart and determination. Your belief is as important as your physical strength. You need to believe in yourself and in your weapon both. Doubt is the enemy. Hesitation is potentially fatal.”

Sebec began working with him on expanding his attack skills. The Sword of Leah’s magic generated a powerful form of fire, very like what diapson crystals were designed to accomplish when used as a power source for the deadly flash rips. Technology had finally caught up with nature, Sebec opined. Once upon a time, technology had dominated and magic had been kept hidden away by those few who had use of it. That had changed with the Great Wars when magic had resurfaced. Now it was all changing back again as the Federation pursued ways in which the old sciences could be brought back into the world to replace magic once more, most particularly through the development of weapons.

There had been a time, more than 150 years ago, when it seemed this undertaking might have stalled permanently. The demonkind had broken free of the Forbidding and destroyed Arishaig and thousands of its people with it. The Prime Minister of the Federation had been killed along with almost half of the Coalition Council, and the government was in disarray. If ever there was a moment when the population’s collective attention might have been turned to other efforts, this had been it. But instead Arishaig had been rebuilt, a stronger fortress than ever; the Coalition Council and its officers had been replaced by an even more militant body; and the once-stalled efforts at creating weapons and warships had intensified.