shade pointed.
-Destroy the Shadowen! They subvert the people of the
Races, creeping into their bodies, taking their forms as they
choose, becoming them, using them, turning them into the mis-
shapen giant and maddened woodswoman you have already en-
countered-and into things worse still. No one prevents it. No
one will, if not you-
“But what are we supposed to do?” Par asked at once, almost
without thinking.
The shade had been substantial when it had first appeared, a
ghost that had taken on again the fullness of life. But already the
lines and shadings were beginning to pale, and he who was once
Allanon shimmered with the translucent and ephemeral incon-
sistency of smoke.
-Shannara child. There are balances to be restored if the
Shadowen are to be destroyed-not for a time, not in this age
only, but forever. Magic is needed. Magic to put an end to the
misuse of life. Magic to restore the fabric of man’s existence in
the mortal world. That magic is your heritage-yours. Wren’s,
and Walker’s. You must acknowledge it and embrace it-
The Hadeshom was beginning to roil again, and the members
of the little company fell back before its hiss and spray-all but
Cogline who stood rock-still before the others, his head bowed
upon his frail chest.
The shade of Allanon seemed to swell suddenly against the
night, rising up before them. The robes spread wide. The shade’s
eyes fixed on Par, and the Valeman felt the stab of an invisible
finger penetrate his breast.
-Par Ohmsford, bearer of the wishsong’s promise, I charge
you with recovering the Sword of Shannara. Only through the
Sword can truth be revealed and only through truth shall the
Shadowen be overcome. Take up me Sword, Par; wield it ac-
cording to the dictates of your heart-the truth of the Shadowen
shall be yours to discover-
The eyes shifted.
-Wren, child of hidden, forgotten lives, yours is a charge of
equal importance. There can be no healing of the Lands or of
their people without the Elves of faerie. Find them and return
them to the world of men. Find them. Rover girl. Only then
can me sickness end-
The Hadeshom erupted with a booming cough.
-And Walker Boh, you of no belief, seek that belief-and
the understanding necessary to sustain it. Search out the last of
the curatives that is needed to give life back to the Lands. Search
out disappeared Paranor and restore the Druids-
There was astonishment mirrored in the faces of all, and for
an instant it smothered the shouts of disbelief that struggled to
surface. Then everyone was yelling at once, the words tumbling
over one another as each sought to make himself heard above
the tumult. But the cries disappeared instantly as the shade’s
arms came up in a sweep that caused the earth to rumble anew.
-Cease-
The waters of the Hadeshom spit and hissed behind him as
he faced them. It was growing lighter now in the east; dawn was
threatening to break.
The shade’s voice was again a whisper.
-‘You would know more. I wish that it could be so. But I
have told you what I can. I cannot tell you more. I lack the
power in death that I possessed in life. I am permitted to see
only bits and pieces of the world that was or the future that will
be. I cannot find what is hidden from you for I am sealed away
in a world where substance has small meaning. Each day, the
memory of it slips further from me. I sense what is and what is
possible; that must suffice. Therefore, pay heed to me. I cannot
come with you. I cannot guide you. I cannot answer the ques-
tions you bring with you-not of magic or family or self-worth.
All mat you must do for yourselves. My time in the Four Lands
is gone, children of Shannara. As it once was for Bremen, so it
is now for me. I am not chained by shackles of failure as was
he, but I am chained nevertheless. Death limits both time and
being. I am the past. The future of the Four Lands belongs to