The Dark Legacy of Shannara Trilogy 3-Book Bundle

by Terry Brooks

  Then, too, there was the matter of finding the Bloodfire, of carrying the seed of the dying Ellcrys to its source, immersing the seed, and then returning it so that the tree could be reborn and the magic that protected them all could be restored. Arling’s fate, her sister’s destiny, bequeathed to her by the magical creature she served as a Chosen, was to become the tree’s successor by accepting responsibility for all of this and seeing that it came to pass.

  Arling, who was so young and so afraid and so unwilling to be the One.

  Arling, who now depended on Aphen to find a way to save her.

  She glanced over at her sister’s bed and found it empty. Arling had already gone to begin her day of service to the tree. It was after sunrise, so she would be down in the Gardens of Life with the other Chosen, having welcomed the Ellcrys to the new day and begun her work as its caretaker and provider.

  Aphen rolled over and faced the wall. Mirai Leah and Seersha were likely still asleep in the other bedroom. Skint, Crace Coram, and Railing Ohmsford shared guest quarters elsewhere with Woostra in a house Arling had found for them. Cymrian could be anywhere, probably outside her cottage, keeping watch. Did he ever sleep?

  The Ard Rhys and Redden Ohmsford were still inside the Forbidding. Oriantha was still there, as well, hunting for them.

  Farshaun Req and the Rover Austrum had returned to Bakrabru.

  All the others were dead and gone.

  She kept coming back to it. How many had there been? How many were lost? She tried counting the Trolls of the Druid Guard and could not seem to remember how many had gone with the Ard Rhys. She had never been told the number of Rovers. Then there was the Speakman, three Druids—four, counting Bombax—along with those Trolls who had died at Paranor …

  She trailed off abruptly, awash in anger and dismay. Where was this getting her? Thinking of the dead did nothing to help the living. Thinking of the dead was pointless.

  She rose, threw on her robe, then slipped from the bedroom. Once downstairs, she disdained tea for a glass of ale and carried it outside onto the porch where she sat with it and looked out on the new day. It was early still, and the cottages nearest hers were quiet. One or two Elves passed by on the roadway, but none of them turned to look or tried to speak to her. She was a ghost, she thought. She was a wraith come out of the night, and perhaps they thought she should go back into it again. Perhaps they wished her gone forever. Or perhaps they no longer even knew who she was.

  Perhaps she didn’t know, either.

  She finished the glass of ale and sat there, thinking through what she must do next. It was clear enough. She would go with Arling to see their grandfather and Uncle Ellich and tell them what was happening to the Forbidding. She would warn them, and together they would try to find a way to prevent the inevitable from coming to pass. She would have done so immediately on her return, but Arling had insisted that she sleep first, that she rest and then clean herself up before going to the King. How she presented herself would count for something with the old man. Going as she was might give him a heart attack.

  So she had reluctantly agreed, seeing the wisdom in her sister’s suggestion, noting as she did that there was something changed about Arling, something fundamental and compelling.

  Arling seemed calmer, more assured than when she had left.

  She seemed more grown up.

  Seersha appeared suddenly, hair wild and tousled, her face a scarred and bruised mask surrounding the black patch that covered her right eye. Her crooked smile was grim and somehow reassuring.

  “I slept well,” she offered quietly, sitting next to Aphen. She was carrying her own glass of ale and a fresh one for her friend. “You?”

  “Well enough. But now I’m awake and thinking about everything.”

  “Welcome to the new day.” Seersha handed her the second glass of ale and toasted her. “At least we have a chance to make something useful of it, which is good.”

  Aphenglow brushed back her hair, which had grown long enough by now that it was as flyaway as Seersha’s. “There’s that. I wish I had a better plan for it.”

  The Dwarf shrugged. “At least we know what needs doing. That’s a reasonable start.”

  Aphenglow wasn’t sure that either statement was true, but she nodded agreeably. “It’s the number of things that need doing that troubles me. There are so many of them and so few of us. How do we make up for that?”

  They were quiet for a time, thinking again of their dead friends and pondering the fate of Khyber Elessedil. The entire Fourth Druid Order, save the two of them, was gone. Destroyed. Paranor might still be theirs, but it had become an empty shell.

  “Good morning.”

  Mirai Leah came through the door and sat down beside them. She looked as beat up as they did, but her smile was bright and welcoming. She was washed and dressed and looked ready for the day. She carried tea rather than ale and sipped at it gingerly.

  “You look rested,” Seersha observed. “Falling off airships must agree with you.”

  “Escaping impossibly dangerous situations agrees with me,” the Highland girl replied. “But I am already thinking about going back to look for Redden and the others, so maybe the fall damaged me after all.”

  The Dwarf nodded. “I’m thinking about it, too. Perhaps we suffer from the same affliction.”

  Aphenglow said nothing, sipping at the cold ale. She wasn’t considering going into the Forbidding because that wasn’t where she needed to go. Not if she was to help Arling, and by now she had pretty much resigned herself to focusing entirely on that goal. Not just because it was Arling, although that was reason enough, but also because if the Forbidding were to be sealed and the Four Lands made safe, then helping her sister resolve the dilemma of how to renew the Ellcrys had assumed paramount importance.

  “I might try some of that tea,” she said.

  She rose and went back inside, found the kettle of brewed tea, and poured herself a cup. She inhaled the hot fumes, the steam filling her breathing passages and clearing her head. Better than the ale, she thought.

  When she went back outside, she found Arlingfant waiting.

  Her sister looked pleased. “I went to Uncle Ellich and asked him to arrange for us to speak privately with Grandfather. An audience has been set for midday. Uncle Ellich will meet us outside the palace when it is time.”

  Aphen was caught off guard. Arling had already done what she had intended to do. When had Arling last shown initiative of that sort?

  Arling seemed to sense that she might have overstepped herself. “I just thought it would help. You needed to rest, and I didn’t want Grandfather to think we were ignoring him.”

  “No, you were right to speak with Ellich,” Aphen said quickly. “We will all be ready to go when it’s time.” She laughed. “Mirai is ready now.”

  Arling looked embarrassed. “The audience is only for you and me, Aphen. Grandfather wants to see us alone.”

  “Probably better that way,” Seersha said at once. “You can say what needs saying without Mirai and I tagging along. If there’s more to tell, we can have our time later.”

  Aphenglow was not entirely happy with this. She had not experienced events in the way that Seersha had, and Mirai, to a lesser extent. But she knew she should not go against her grandfather’s wishes.

  “Sorry, but I have to go back to the gardens and finish my work,” Arling said, interrupting her thoughts. She turned and started off. “I’ll be back before midday.”

  Aphen watched her go, then she said to the other two, “We had better talk everything through one more time. I don’t want to leave anything out when I go to see Grandfather.”

  So, in painstaking detail, Seersha and Mirai went through it all again.

  The morning passed quickly, even taking into account the slog entailed in retelling the fate of the doomed Druid expedition, and by midday Aphenglow was dressed and ready to meet with the King. She hugged Seersha and Mirai both, as much for her own reassurance as for th
eirs, and set out for the palace with Arling beside her.

  “I should have let you be the one to talk to Uncle Ellich,” Arling said to her after a few minutes of silence.

  Aphen moved over and put her arm around her sister. “I should have asked you to do it in the first place. You’re just as able as I am.”

  “Maybe now, but not so much before.” She leaned into Aphen. “I feel … more capable, somehow. I think it’s because I have finally stopped denying what the Ellcrys wants me to do.”

  “You seem stronger.”

  “I’m doing the best I can.”

  Aphen could barely make herself ask. “Have you come to terms with what’s being asked of you, Arling?”

  Her sister didn’t look at her, clearly uncomfortable with the question. “I’ve accepted what it means. I’ve found that I can face the idea of it. I don’t know that I can do it, though. Maybe I can. Maybe I can find a way through it.” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  They walked on a bit farther without speaking. Then Arling said, “After you left, I went back to the Ellcrys and spoke to her again, as I said I would. I spoke with her a long time. Then I went back again the next night. I went every night. Each time, we spoke a little longer, a little more openly. It became easier, even though I was still terrified. She was kind to me. She made me understand what it was like for her. She was a girl like me once, and she remembers how she felt when she was chosen. She ran far away, trying to escape what she had been asked to do. In the end, she came back. She felt strongly enough that she had to. Even so, her delay cost lives. Many lives, I think. She still lives with that memory. She can’t forget, and she wants to save me from the same fate. It’s a powerful argument, Aphen.”

  Aphenglow felt a chill in her heart. “Are you saying she has persuaded you? Have you decided to do what she wants?”

  Arling shook her head. “I am saying that at least I begin to understand her. I am not saying I am her. I am not saying her path should be mine. But maybe if it is required of me, I might find a way to accept it.”

  Aphen nodded and said nothing. She did not want to lose her sister, not for any reason. She didn’t know how she could prevent it, but she was as determined now as she had ever been to find a way.

  They walked the remainder of the way in silence and found Ellich Elessedil waiting for them at the edge of the palace grounds. He was out of sight when they first appeared, but stepped into view at once and motioned them down a side path that was heavily sheltered by a grove of conifers. When they had gone a short distance, he turned and embraced Aphenglow warmly.

  “I’m so glad you are back safely, Aphen. It must have been terrible for you. Arling told me some of it.”

  She nodded. “It’s inconceivable. Almost the whole order is gone. Seersha and I might be all that’s left. And Paranor is abandoned. Drust Chazhul has shown he will do anything he can to destroy the Druids. It says a great deal about his disregard for magic and its uses that he attacked us with so little hesitation.”

  “Your grandfather is anxious to hear everything.” Ellich paused. “Is it as bad as I think?”

  “Worse,” she told him. “But you will hear for yourself.”

  “A word with you about your grandfather, first.” His strong features tightened, and he kept his voice low. “My brother is not well. In fact, he is as bad as he has ever been. It will be a shock to you when you see him, but try not to show it. The stress of his position and its demands have worn him down. That, and dealing with Phaedon. The Prince no longer makes any attempt to pretend he is his father’s right hand. He campaigns openly to be King. He says it is time for his father to step down and cede the throne to him. He has some support for this. Clearly, the King is not what he once was, and there are those who think it best that he abdicate.”

  “Phaedon has no right to ask this,” Arling interrupted.

  Ellich smiled grimly. “Since when did decency ever stop that boy? The King hangs on mostly because he still hopes his son will change. He thinks that time will season him and he’ll somehow become the King he should be. It is an impossibility, but my brother will not see this.”

  “So what are you saying, Uncle?” Aphen pressed.

  The smile died away. “You are always so quick to intuit things. I am saying that any promises he makes to you today might be broken tomorrow. Tell him what you will, but remember that he needs to know that whatever has happened is not insurmountable. His heart is weak and his strength limited. If you can reassure him there are solutions to problems, if you can give him hope, if you can take on some of the burden, it will go a long way toward helping him deal with any demands being placed on his shoulders.”

  He paused. “Am I asking too much? From the look on your face, I think maybe I am.”

  “You will decide for yourself when you hear what I have to say.” She put her hands on his broad shoulders. “I love you both, and I would do nothing to hurt either of you. But what I have to say can’t wait and can’t be softened. It is harsh and terrible, and it must be dealt with. I need Grandfather to be strong for this.”

  Her uncle nodded slowly. “Then we must do our best to help him be strong. Come.”

  They followed the path to the little side door she had entered not so long ago but which now seemed as if it must have happened in another lifetime. She had spoken to her grandfather about her order’s plan to embark on a quest, but she had never told him exactly what the Druids were seeking. She had asked for the use of the seeking-Stones at that meeting, and now she must ask for them again. But this time there was a clear precedent for her request, one deeply rooted in Elven history, and she intended to rely on it.

  A member of the Home Guard stepped out of the foliage to greet them, nodded approval for them to pass, and vanished as quickly and silently as he had appeared.

  Ellich rapped on the door, and after a moment it opened and her grandfather was standing before her, smiling. “Aphen,” he said, and took her in his arms.

  She was shocked at how haggard he had grown, his age never more evident than it was now. His arms, encircling her, felt weak and brittle, and his weight had dropped noticeably. The strength that had once been evident was completely gone. It was as if he were hanging on by his fingernails.

  She hugged him back. She could feel the tears in her eyes. “Grandfather. I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Well, then. We are well matched.” He looked past her. “And you, as well, Arling.” He released Aphen to hug her sister, patting Arling gently on the back. “I don’t see enough of either of you anymore. Come in, come in.”

  Ellich followed them into the room and closed and locked the door behind them. They moved over to a pair of couches and sat, the sisters facing the King and his brother. There were pitchers of ale and tea on the low table between them, and Ellich motioned for Aphen and Arling to help themselves.

  Aphenglow poured tea for all of them, and then she began to relate her tale of the events surrounding the fate of the doomed expedition and the discovery of the failing Ellcrys. She told them everything save what exactly the Druids had been searching for and how finding Aleia Omarosian’s diary had provided the impetus for the expedition. She focused instead on the impending collapse of the Forbidding and the need to act at once to prevent it from happening.

  She took a long time to cover everything, but she thought it important to leave nothing out. She could see early on the effect it was having on her grandfather and wished she could have softened the sharp edges of her news, but there was little softening to be done. Ellich was calmer, listening intently, nodding now and then, his strong face expressionless, his hands clasped loosely together as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

  Arling said almost nothing, only now and then adding a detail regarding the condition of the Ellcrys or the nature of the demands that had been placed on her as the Chosen the tree would send in search of the mysterious Bloodfire.

  When Aphen had finished, there was a long sil
ence. Then her grandfather surprised her by saying, “You are showing great courage, both of you. In the face of enormous responsibility and much danger, you are as calm as if this were no more demanding than a walk in the woods. I am proud of you.”

  Spontaneously, they rose and went to him, hugging him where he sat on the couch, bent over and frail, hands shaking as he hugged them back. “There, now,” he said, his voice stronger than before. “It’s all right. It will be all right.”

  Seated again, Aphenglow said to him, “Now that you know, I have a request to make. To find the Bloodfire, we must have the use of the Elfstones. You did not see fit to give them to me before, but this time I think you must. Without them, I will have only the directions recorded in the Druid Histories. That isn’t enough. The High Council must be made to see this. Arling has been asked to carry the Ellcrys seed so that it can be immersed in the Bloodfire, and I will go with her to see that this happens. I have no clear idea of what this will require of us, but we cannot afford to fail. The Elfstones are the best way to protect us against the unforeseeable. Had the Druids been given the Stones when they went into the Forbidding, they might not have suffered so greatly. I do not think we can afford to let something of that magnitude befall us. We have to be protected.”

  “But the Elfstones would be our most valuable weapon against the things breaking free of the Forbidding,” her grandfather pointed out. “How can I give them up in the face of so great a threat?”

  She was ready for this question. Precedent must prevail. He must be made to see that.

  “When the search for the Bloodfire was conducted last, in the time of Eventine Elessedil, the girl and the boy who carried the Ellcrys seed were given the Elfstones by the Druid Allanon.” She paused. “Without them, the effort would have failed. The Histories are quite clear on this.”

  Her grandfather shook his head. “The High Council will not agree.”

  “Nor will Phaedon,” Ellich added, drawing his brother’s attention. “Emperowen, you must give her the Elfstones yourself. This matter should not be brought before the High Council. If it is, there will be endless debate and constant delay. You will be forced to stand up to them all and to your son, as well. You know this to be true.”