They were silent for several long moments. Eventually, Mraan asked in a small, quiet voice, ‘What does your heart tell you, father?’
Unable to face his son, he said, ‘My heart tells me that this is only the precursor to the dam’s bursting . . . that the power of this invocation will continue to grow until the Balance Itself becomes overthrown, at which point it will consume everything and all within the Kingdom, unless the means can be found to stop it. But it will not stop there. Once the Kingdom is undone, it will continue its assault on the Balance, until the Earth Mother Herself becomes threatened.’ He sighed again, and took a long look at the wreckage which surrounded them on all sides. ‘My heart tells me that in some way, I am to blame for this.’
Mraan was shocked. ‘How?’
Haloch’s visage was a mixture of fondness, regret, and guilt. ‘I should have been home these last years. Home with you, instead of wasting so much time on . . . on this. The price all of us have paid in perpetuating this Lore has been distraction, negligence, precious time wasted, the illusion of gain, of power to control our fate, and the lie that all this was necessary.’ He shook his head. ‘Bellandor was right. From the beginning, the evil we have been fighting could very well be the Lore itself.’ He arose from his chair, found a leather bag nearby, packed the new Book and a few belongings, and took his son by the arm. Noticing his son’s pack, he said, ‘Have you brought food?’