26 paladins of shannara 01 allanons quest terry brooks

SHANNARA SHANNARA First King of Shannara The Sword of Shannara The Elfstones of Shannara The Wishsong of Shannara THE HERITAGE OF SHANNARA The Scions of Shannara The Druid of Shannara The Elf Queen of Shannara The Talismans of Shannara THE VOYAGE OF THE JERLE SHANNARA Ilse Witch Antrax Morgawr HIGH DRUID OF SHANNARA Jarka Ruus Tanequil Straken THE DARK LEGACY OF SHANNARA Wards of Faerie PRE-SHANNARA GENESIS OF SHANNARA Armageddon’s Children The Elves of Cintra The Gypsy Morph LEGENDS OF SHANNARA Bearers of the Black Staff The Measure of the Magic The World of Shannara THE MAGIC KINGDOM OF LANDOVER Magic Kingdom for Sale—Sold! The Black Unicorn Wizard at Large The Tangle Box Witches’ Brew A Princess of Landover THE WORD AND THE VOID Running with the Demon A Knight of the Word Angel Fire East Sometimes the Magic Works: Lessons from a Writing Life Paladins of Shannara: Allanon’s Quest is a work of fiction Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental A Del Rey eBook Original Copyright © 2012 by Terry Brooks Excerpt from Wards of Faerie by Terry Brooks copyright © 2012 by Terry Brooks All rights reserved Published in the United States of America by Del Rey, an imprint of the Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York DEL REY and the Del Rey colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc This book contains an excerpt from the forthcoming book Wards of Faerie by Terry Brooks This excerpt has been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition Cover design by David G Stevenson Cover illustration by Stephen Youll eISBN: 978-0-345-53680-8 www.delreybooks.com v3.1 Contents Cover Other Books by This Author Title Page Copyright First Page Excerpt from Wards of Faerie The storm clouds scudded across the night sky in roiling clumps that blotted out the half-moon and stars and enveloped the land beneath in heavy shadow The woods surrounding the village of Archer Trace, fty miles north and east of the city of Arborlon, stirred uneasily The trees swayed, and their leaves shivered with a metallic rustling as wind tore at the branches in sharp gusts and rain pattered heavily against the leaves A drop in the temperature had already announced the storm’s arrival, the air damp, chilly, and raw Intricate patterns of lightning ashed, and bursts of thunder rumbled from across the eastern edge of the Sarandanon Allanon pulled his black robes tighter and his hood closer as he entered the Elven village, passing the rst of the outlying buildings and making his way along the empty pathways Candlelight burned in the windows of a few cottages and huts, ickering behind glass panes or through open shutters, and this small light was su cient to guide him on his way But most of the buildings were entirely dark The residents had either gone to bed in anticipation of an early rising or down to the taverns that provided the main source of entertainment for the village Had anyone been looking through windows or shutters, or had he been careless enough not to disguise his coming, he might have been observed But Allanon was not the careless sort, and he had used his Druid skills to change his appearance su ciently that he seemed little more than another of the night’s shadows To anyone looking, he simply wasn’t there It was a Druid trick—one he had perfected during his early years, when he was just learning his craft Bremen, who had taught it to him, was already gone by then, so he had mastered it on his own, expanding on his existing skills But while Archer Trace was the sort of miserable place where inhabitants and visitors alike made it a point to watch one another closely, there was little vigilance on this night The foul weather did not invite the monitoring of those abroad, and the pleasures of the taverns provided a more attractive lure So Allanon passed into the village relatively unseen, traveling along its single roadway to a cluster of ragged buildings that were illuminated by torches wedged down in iron brackets beneath their weather shields, fighting bravely to stay lit against the onslaught of wind and rain Slowing, he looked for the sign that would identify his destination and quickly found it: THE DRUNKEN FOOL Big, bold letters—no doubt a reference to its patrons But if it could provide him with the information he needed, what did the nature of the business or its patrons matter to him? He had come all the way from Arborlon on this slim hope of success because time and opportunity were growing short And rumor alone was enough to send him on what others might have dismissed as a fool’s errand Lives were being snu ed out, and all that mattered might soon be gone—something that would prove disastrous to the Four Lands If even one of those he sought could be saved, he had to whatever it took to make that happen There was more at stake here than his discomfort and risk He cast aside the magic that let him remain unseen as he pushed his way through the tavern’s heavy door and into the smoky interior, then looked about The room was crowded—more so than he would have expected, given the size and condition of the village Most of the tavern’s denizens were Elves; no surprise there—this was their homeland But it appeared as if everyone who lived in Archer Trace or might even have been passing through had gathered A few heads turned to look at him, but most turned quickly away A man seven feet tall and possessed of rough features and a dark scowl did not draw many extended looks He ignored the few looks he received and waited for the barkeep to acknowledge him When the man gave him a nod of recognition, the Druid turned his attention to a small table in the back of the room and the two men who occupied it A moment later, both men rose, having suddenly decided that it was time to leave although neither could have said why He gave it a moment, then crossed to the table the men had vacated and sat down After a few minutes, the barkeep wandered over “Long trip?” He was a large, heavyset man with big features and a dour look For an Elf, he looked downright sullen “I know everyone in the village,” he added “You’ve come from somewhere else.” Allanon nodded “A cold tankard of ale would ease my weariness.” The barkeep nodded and wandered o , and Allanon looked around at the room’s patrons, his gaze moving from face to face, making sure that nothing seemed out of place and no one appeared to be a threat By the time he had nished, the barkeep had returned “Anything else?” He set the tankard of ale down and waited “Something to eat, maybe?” The Druid shook his head “Do you know where I can find a man called Derrivanian?” “Might What’s your business?” “My business is my own.” “Maybe so, but I don’t like sending trouble to other people’s doorsteps Trouble nds them quick enough without my help.” “I intend no trouble.” Allanon brushed the rain from his shoulders and sat back “He is an old friend I knew him when he served as record keeper for the Elessedils.” “Oh, you know of that? So maybe you are a friend But where’s the proof? What’s to say you aren’t here to collect a bill or cause some other sort of mischief?” Allanon gave him a look “Derrivanian is an old man with an old wife and an old dog, and he hasn’t got much of anything to give and no history of ever having done anyone harm Why don’t you just tell me where he lives?” The barkeep shook his head “I need something more than your word before I tell you anything I don’t much like the look of you—all in black, dark-faced, and grim You’re a big man used to getting his way Well, I’m a big man, too, and I’m not afraid of you.” Allanon went very still “It isn’t me you should fear, barkeep.” He locked eyes with the man “Ask yourself this Are you sure enough of yourself that you would risk a meeting with some who might not ask any questions but simply tear the information from you? Would you risk a meeting with those they call Skull Bearers?” The barkeep paled “Do not speak that name in here!” “What name should I speak, then? I gave you Derrivanian Should I give you another? The Warlock Lord’s name, perhaps? Or is there another you would prefer me to speak?” The barkeep backed away “I want you out of here! Take your business elsewhere and seek your answers from another.” Allanon shook his head “I have no time for asking others I have chosen to ask you, and I will have my answers now Look at me Where will I find Eldra Derrivanian?” The barkeep tried to back away, but suddenly his strength failed, and he found himself rooted in place His face tightened with his e orts to free himself, and it was clear he saw something new in the Druid’s eyes that made him realize what he was up against “Answer me,” Allanon ordered “Take the road west out of the village.” The barkeep was speaking in a di erent voice, one dredged up from the dark places you hide when you are very afraid “Go about ve hundred yards Look for a fence and a wooden gate inset with the carved image of a rooster He can be found there.” Allanon nodded “My thanks Now forget you ever saw me Forget this conversation Forget everything but your purpose in coming to my table with my tankard of ale.” He paused “What was it you wanted to ask me again?” The barkeep’s eyes, which had lost focus, suddenly seemed clear again “Something to eat, maybe?” When the barkeep had left the table, Allanon took a few minutes to nish the tankard of ale, relishing the cold liquid owing down his throat and the re it brought to his belly He stopped examining the patrons and the room and delved deep into his own thoughts, musing on the Druid abilities he had developed since leaving Bremen to his fate at the Hadeshorn all those years ago Sometimes, it seemed like a dream to him He could still see the old man walking out onto the glistening black rock of the Valley of Shale to the edge of the lake’s waters and into the arms of the Shade of Galaphile, then being carried beyond into the mists He could still remember standing alone afterward and wondering how he could manage what he had been charged with doing He was only fteen when Bremen had left him Only a boy But he had been strong, both physically and mentally, and he had only grown stronger with time And he had used that strength in ways that now made his name a household legend He had restored Paranor to the world of men, using the Black Elfstone entrusted to him by Bremen, and made the Druid’s Keep his permanent residence He had brought a fresh contingent of Elven Hunters—supplied at rst by Jerle Shannara, then by those Elven Kings who had succeeded him—to act as protectors of the Druid’s Keep and the Sword of Shannara, which had been set within a block of Tre-Stone and placed in a vault, there to await the day when Bremen had promised it would be needed again Then he had slept the Druid Sleep, deep and dark with magic that let time and aging pass him by But now the day that Bremen had promised had arrived—the day for which Allanon had been preparing himself all his life A life that, because of his extensive use of the Druid Sleep, spanned almost five hundred years So fteen years of age was a very long time ago, and that boy he had been was very far removed from who he had become He lifted his eyes from the tankard and looked out across those years to the many, many people he had left behind He was in the prime of his life, while all those he had known as a boy and a young man were gone It was a strange feeling to realize that so much had passed him by It was a hard way to live your life, but he was the last Druid— the only Druid—and he wondered where he would nd another to succeed him He had looked, but no one seemed right for the weight of what he would have to ask of them Who would willingly accept that burden? Worse, only someone who fully understood what it meant to shoulder such a load, and what responsibilities came with it, would be the right choice But that was another problem for another time, and this night was meant for other work He pushed back from the table and rose The tavern seemed busier than ever, the bar crowded with laughing, shouting, jostling people All the tables were occupied He was barely on his feet before a pair of young men hurried over to claim his space, pausing only long enough to make certain he did not object He nodded to them and walked away—ignoring the barkeep, who ignored him in turn—then moved back through the door and out into the night Wrapped in his cloak, he trudged up the muddy roadway, head bent but ears and eyes alert for sound and movement The rain was a slow, steady downpour that had already soaked the ground and was now being channeled into low places to pool and settle He kept to the drier parts of the sodden path as best he could, moving westward toward his destination, thinking about what he hoped to accomplish So much depended on what Eldra Derrivanian remembered or what he had written down, or even what he might be able to divine It had come to this: a sort of crazy guessing game as to who might still be out there that the winged servants of the Warlock Lord hadn’t already found Someone who hadn’t already been revealed by traitors and sycophants eager to preserve the lives they were assured of losing Someone who hadn’t already been turned or killed Someone who might still have courage enough to what was needed to save the Races But this was Eldra Derrivanian, and he might not care about saving anyone Two weeks earlier, Allanon had thought his search a lost cause He had known of the Warlock Lord’s imminent return for months All the signs were there for anyone who could read them Winged iers had been spotted in the North—Skull Bearers patrolling the night skies over the Knife Edge Mountains, bathing in the waters of the River Lethe to armor their skin by day Bodies of travelers had been discovered in the surrounding regions, ripped to shreds and partially devoured People and animals alike had gone missing, never to be seen again Fire bloomed in the once-dead volcanoes that riddled For those who want to nd out what happened when the Druid Allanon went looking for Shea Ohmsford, be sure not to miss the epic adventure that started it all: THE SWORD OF SHANNARA—available now as a mass market paperback, and in October 2012 as a special 35th anniversay annotated hardcover edition Read on for an excerpt from Terry Brooks’s Wards of Faerie IT WAS ALMOST ONE YEAR TO THE DAY AFTER SHE BEGAN her search of the Elven histories that Aphenglow Elessedil found the diary She was deep in the underground levels of the palace, sitting alone at the same table she occupied each day, surrounded by candles to combat the darkness, and wrapped in her heavy cloak to ward o the chill Carefully she read each document, letter, or memoir in what had taken on the attributes of a never-ending slog It was late and her eyes were burning with fatigue and dust, her concentration beginning to wane, and her longing for bed to grow She had been reading each day, all day, for so long that she was beginning to think she might never see Paranor and her fellow Druids again It was dark each day when she began her work and dark when she ended it, and aside from an occasional visit from her sister or her uncle, she saw almost no one She had read through the entirety of the histories, including their appendices, and had moved on to the boxes and boxes of other writings donated by prominent families over the years These papers were intended to supplement, embellish, or correct what was considered the o cial record of a history that stretched back thousands of years She had found little that she didn’t already know or was in any way useful, yet she had persevered because that was how she was Once she started something she did not give up until the job was finished And now, perhaps, it was A diary, written by a young girl, a Princess of the realm living in the age of Faerie, had caught her eye just as she was on the verge of putting everything aside and going o to bed It was buried at the bottom of a box she had nished emptying, small and worn and sti with age, and she had glanced at the rst couple of pages, noted the girlish writing and the nature of the entries, and been prepared to dismiss it But then something had stopped her—curiosity, a premonition, a quirk in the way it was written, and she had paged ahead to the nal entries to nd something unexpected 23, MONTH Something both terrible and wonderful has happened to me, and I can tell no one Today I met a boy He is not of our people and not of our moral and ethical persuasion He is a Darkling child of the Void, but he is the most beautiful boy I have ever seen I am hopelessly in love with him, and even knowing that it is wrong of me to be so and that nothing good can come of it, I want to believe that it might be otherwise I was down by the Silver Thread, deep in the woods seeking bunch lilies and ardweed seeds for the shelter, when he appeared to me He came out of the trees as if born of them, a lovely mirage given substance and form So striking was he, so perfect Blue skin (I have never seen such a depthless blue), golden eyes, hair of midnight black and stars, his voice as soft as the ending of a summer rain when he greeted me I loved him at once, in that rst moment I could not help myself Even when I knew what he was and that he was forbidden to me, I could not turn away from him I like to believe that there was something more than physical attraction that drew me to him I had enough presence of mind to be able to warn myself against what I was doing But after we talked and I heard what he had to say about himself and his people, I knew I could not change things It is said that the most ancient of our race frequently found love at first sight and seldom through lengthy consideration Perhaps I am a throwback, for that is what happened with this boy and me We sat in a quiet glade and talked for hours; I cannot say for how long By the time our encounter ended, twilight was approaching I left him with a promise to meet again No plans, no details, but I know it will happen I want it to happen 26, MONTH Today, unable to help myself, I returned to the forest to try to nd him again I was not back in the glade for more than the half split of an hour before he reappeared Again, we sat and talked of our lives and our hopes for the future I feel so free with him, so able to be open about my life He is the same with me, and I am reassured that the love I feel for him is not built on a foundation of false expectations but on real possibilities While the prohibitions cannot be changed, I see no reason why they might not be ignored for a time So I tell myself So I am persuaded 28, MONTH We met again today Our conversations were of ourselves, but also of the strife between our peoples and the terrible toll it was taking on all our lives He told me he did not see all of his people as bad or all of ours as good It was not so simple in his eyes, and I was quick to agree with him The war is ongoing, centuries old, a struggle that has its roots in the beginnings of all our Races and of the world itself, and it will not end in our lives We are its children, but we feel so apart from the war when together and alone If only we could keep it that way If only we could shelter what we feel for each other so that no one could ever destroy it Before we parted, he told me how he had come to nd me He was delegated by his elders to spy upon the city from the particular vantage point into which I had ventured He was not to interfere, only to observe and report He hated what he was doing, but it was his duty and his parents would be shamed if he failed Yet when he saw me, he found no longer cared about anything else He had to reveal himself He had to talk to me By now I am no longer thinking of anything but how to hold on to him, how to make him mine forever 2, MONTH When he came to me on this day, our rst day of meeting in the new month, I gave myself to him I did so freely and with great joy We did not speak while it was happening, did not even pause to consider We simply did what we had wanted to from the rst time we had met It was so wonderful, and the feelings I experienced while in his arms are with me still and will be so forever It was my rst time, and he is my rst real love I could not ask for anything more wonderful I have been made happy beyond my wildest expectations Now that I have taken this final, irrevocable step, there is no going back, nothing more to consider I am his 3, MONTH We met again today I couldn’t help myself Nor, I think, could he We are so in love We are so happy 5, MONTH Again Another sweet time 12, MONTH Such agony! Mother kept me busy all this week with studies and housework, and I could not go to him even once Today was our rst time together again in an entire week He says he understands, although it is hard for him, too I will not suffer such separation again! 15, MONTH Even three days is too long I was in such despair, and he was so wild with worry and so in need when we met Oh, how I love him! 17, MONTH Just when I think matters have returned to normal and we will be left to our regular meetings, something else has intruded I must go to visit my grandparents in the city of Parsoprey across the Dragon’s Teeth and down onto the plains of the Sarain and so will be gone for two entire weeks I cannot go to him to let him know—we are to leave at once! I think I shall die! 2, MONTH Home again at last I went straight to the glade and took him to our home and into my bed It feels so right to have him there I told him everything of where I had been and what I had been forced to endure and he, sweet boy, told me he understood and forgave me He worried that I had forsaken him and would not return But I would never that He must know this, I told him I will love him until the day I die 22, MONTH I take him to my bed at every opportunity, no longer content with our time in the forest glade I want him close to me I want him with me always and constantly, but I must settle for what I can have I choose times when I know the house will be empty I live for those times I am consumed by my need for them I want them to go on forever 10, MONTH Today I did something that may have been foolish I spoke of the magic that keeps the Elves safe I revealed too much of what I knew in an e ort to impress—though only after he had done so rst, speaking of the magic that keeps his own people safe We spoke in general terms and not of speci cs, but I am troubled nevertheless We spoke of magic in the course of our frequent discussions on how the war between our peoples might be brought to an end If there were no magic, there might be less cause for ghting, we reason He sees it as I do, and so we speak of it openly It is only talk, and nothing much could come of it When we are together, what does talk of magic and conjuring and endless ict matter anyway? Nothing matters, save that we are together But now I wonder Because even though we spoke mostly in generalities, I did once speak in specifics I told him about the Elfstones .. .SHANNARA SHANNARA First King of Shannara The Sword of Shannara The Elfstones of Shannara The Wishsong of Shannara THE HERITAGE OF SHANNARA The Scions of Shannara The Druid of Shannara. .. Queen of Shannara The Talismans of Shannara THE VOYAGE OF THE JERLE SHANNARA Ilse Witch Antrax Morgawr HIGH DRUID OF SHANNARA Jarka Ruus Tanequil Straken THE DARK LEGACY OF SHANNARA Wards of Faerie... Copyright © 2012 by Terry Brooks Excerpt from Wards of Faerie by Terry Brooks copyright © 2012 by Terry Brooks All rights reserved Published in the United States of America by Del Rey, an imprint of the