{"product_id":"the-scions-of-shannara-isbn-9780345370747","title":"The Scions of Shannara","description":"\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eNEW YORK TIMES \u003c\/i\u003eBESTSELLER\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSince the death of the Druid Allanon, the Four Lands have changed profoundly, with magic strictly forbidden in the Southland, now under totalitarian rule. Yet Par still has some power of the Wishsong. When he accidently brings a mythic horror to life, a man calling himself Cogline drives it away. Cogline brings a message from Allanon: venture to the dread Hadeshorn, along with the other Scions of Shannara. For in the future, all life in the Four Lands will be destroyed. To prevent this terrible fate, Allanon commands Par to recover the long-lost Sword of Shannara, a task that is next to impossible.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThus continues the enthralling Shannara epic, a spellbinding tale of adventure, magic, and myth. . . .\"If Harry Potter has given you a thirst for fantasy and you have not discovered the magic of Terry Brooks, you are in for a treat.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e--Rocky Mountain News\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"If you were delighted and entranced by Michael Ende's \u003ci\u003eThe Never Ending Story\u003c\/i\u003e, you will definitely want to sample one of more of Terry Brooks's books.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e--Santa Cruz Sentinel\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003eTerry Brooks\u003c\/b\u003e has thrilled readers for decades with his powers of imagination and storytelling. He is the author of more than thirty books, most of which have been \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestsellers. He lives with his wife, Judine, in the Pacific Northwest.The old man sat alone in the shadow of the Dragon's Teeth and watched the coming darkness chase the\u003cbr\u003edaylight west. The day had been cool, unusually so for midsummer, and the night promised to be\u003cbr\u003echill. Scattered clouds masked the sky, casting their silhouettes upon the earth, drifting in the\u003cbr\u003emanner of aimless beasts between moon and stars. A hush filled the emptiness left by the fading\u003cbr\u003elight like a voice waiting to speak.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt was a hush that whispered of magic, the old man thought.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA fire burned before him, small still, just the beginning of what was\u003cbr\u003eneeded. After all, he would be gone for several hours. He studied the\u003cbr\u003efire with a mixture of expectation and uneasiness before reaching down\u003cbr\u003eto add the larger chunks of deadwood that brought the flames up quickly.\u003cbr\u003eHe poked at it with a stick, then stepped away, driven back by the heat.\u003cbr\u003eHe stood at the edge of the light, caught between the fire and the\u003cbr\u003egrowing dark, a creature who might have belonged to neither or both.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis eyes glittered as he looked off into the distance. The peaks of the\u003cbr\u003eDragona's Teeth jutted skyward like bones the earth could not contain.\u003cbr\u003eThere was a hush to the mountains, a secrecy that clung like mist on a\u003cbr\u003efrosty morning and hid all the dreams of the ages.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe fire sparked sharply and the old man brushed at a stray bit of\u003cbr\u003eglowing ash that threatened to settle on him. He was just a bundle of\u003cbr\u003esticks, loosely tied together, that might crumble into dust if a strong\u003cbr\u003ewind were to blow. Gray robes and a forest cloak hung on him as they\u003cbr\u003ewould have on a scarecrow. His skin was leathery and brown and had\u003cbr\u003eshrunken close against his bones. White hair and beard wreathed his\u003cbr\u003ehead, thin and fine, like wisps of gauze against the firelight. He was\u003cbr\u003eso wrinkled and hunched down that he looked to be a hundred years old.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe was, in fact, almost a thousand.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eStrange, he thought suddenly, remembering his years. Paranor, the\u003cbr\u003eCouncils of the Races, even the Druids--gone. Strange that he should\u003cbr\u003ehave outlasted them all.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe shook his head. It was so long ago, so far back in time that it was a\u003cbr\u003epart of his life he only barely recognized. He had thought that part\u003cbr\u003efinished, gone forever. He had thought himself free. But he had never\u003cbr\u003ebeen that, he guessed. It wasn't possible to be free of something\u003cbr\u003ethat, at the very least, was responsible for the fact that he was still\u003cbr\u003ealive.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHow else, after all, save for the Druid Sleep, could he still be\u003cbr\u003estanding there?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe shivered against the descending night, darkness all about him now as\u003cbr\u003ethe last of the sunlight slipped below the horizon. It was time. The\u003cbr\u003edreams had told him it must be now, and he believed the dreams because\u003cbr\u003ehe understood them. That, too, was a part of his old life that would not\u003cbr\u003elet him goaO\"dreams, visions of worlds beyond worlds, of warnings and\u003cbr\u003etruths, of things that could and sometimes must be.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe stepped away from the fire and started up the narrow pathway into the\u003cbr\u003erocks. Shadows closed about him, their touch chill. He walked for a long\u003cbr\u003etime, winding through narrow defiles, scrambling past massive boulders,\u003cbr\u003eangling along craggy drops and jagged splits in the rock. When he\u003cbr\u003eemerged again into the light, he stood within a shallow, rock-strewn\u003cbr\u003evalley dominated by a lake whose glassy surface reflected back at him\u003cbr\u003ewith a harsh, greenish cast.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe lake was the resting place for the shades of Druids come and gone.\u003cbr\u003eIt was to the Hadeshorn that he had been summoned.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Might as well get on with it,?\" he growled softly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe walked slowly, cautiously downward into the valley, his steps uneasy,\u003cbr\u003ehis heart pounding in his ears. He had been away a long time. The waters\u003cbr\u003ebefore him did not stir; the shades lay sleeping. It was best that way,\u003cbr\u003ehe thought. It was best that they not be disturbed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe reached the lake's edge and stopped. All was silent. He took a deep\u003cbr\u003ebreath, the air rattling from his chest as he exhaled like dry leaves\u003cbr\u003eblown across stone. He fumbled at his waist for a pouch and loosened its\u003cbr\u003edrawstrings. Carefully he reached within and drew out a handful of black\u003cbr\u003epowder laced with silver sparkle. He hesitated, then threw it into the\u003cbr\u003eair over the lake.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe powder exploded skyward with a strange light that brightened the air\u003cbr\u003eabout him as if it were day again. There was no heat, only light. It\u003cbr\u003eshimmered and danced against the nighttime like a living thing. The old\u003cbr\u003eman watched, robes and forest cloak pulled close, eyes bright with the\u003cbr\u003ereflected glow. He rocked back and forth slightly and for a moment felt\u003cbr\u003eyoung again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen a shadow appeared suddenly in the light, lifting out of it like a\u003cbr\u003ewraith, a black form that might have been something strayed from the\u003cbr\u003edarkness beyond. But the old man knew better. This was nothing strayed;\u003cbr\u003ethis was something called. The shadow tightened and took shape. It was\u003cbr\u003ethe shade of a man cloaked all in black, a tall and forbidding\u003cbr\u003eapparition that anyone who had ever seen before would have recognized at\u003cbr\u003eonce.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"So, Allanon,?\" the old man whispered.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe hooded face tilted back so that the light revealed the dark, harsh\u003cbr\u003efeatures clearlyaO\"the angular bearded face, the long thin nose and\u003cbr\u003emouth, the fierce brow that might have been cast of iron, the eyes\u003cbr\u003ebeneath that seemed to look directly into the soul. The eyes found the\u003cbr\u003eold man and held him fast.\u003cbr\u003e--I need you--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe voice was a whisper in the old man's mind, a hiss of\u003cbr\u003edissatisfaction and urgency. The shade communicated by using thoughts\u003cbr\u003ealone. The old man shrank back momentarily, wishing that the thing he\u003cbr\u003ehad called would instead be gone. Then he recovered himself and stood\u003cbr\u003efirm before his fears.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I am no longer one of you!aO? he snapped, his own eyes narrowing\u003cbr\u003edangerously, forgetting that it was not necessary to speak aloud. aOoeYou\u003cbr\u003ecannot command me!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e--I do not command. I request. Listen to me. You are all that is left,\u003cbr\u003ethe last that may be until my successor is found. Do you understand--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe old man laughed nervously. \"Understand? Ha! Who understands better\u003cbr\u003ethan me?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e--A part of you will always be what once you would not have questioned.\u003cbr\u003eThe magic stays within you. Always. Help me. I send the dreams and the\u003cbr\u003eShannara children do not respond. Someone must go to them. Someone must\u003cbr\u003emake them see. You--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Not me! I have lived apart from the races for years now. I wish\u003cbr\u003enothing more to do with their troubles!\" The old man straightened his\u003cbr\u003estick form and frowned. aOoeI shed myself of such nonsense long ago.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe shade seemed to rise and broaden suddenly before him, and he felt\u003cbr\u003ehimself lifted free of the earth. He soared skyward, far into the night.\u003cbr\u003eHe did not struggle, but held himself firm, though he could feel the\u003cbr\u003eother's anger rushing through him like a black river. The shade's\u003cbr\u003evoice was the sound of bones grating.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e--Watcha--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Four Lands appeared, spread out before him, a panorama of\u003cbr\u003egrasslands, mountains, hills, lakes, forests, and rivers, bright\u003cbr\u003eswatches of earth colored by sunlight. He caught his breath to see it so\u003cbr\u003eclearly and from so far up in the sky, even knowing that it was only a\u003cbr\u003evision. But the sunlight began to fade almost at once, the color to\u003cbr\u003ewash. Darkness closed about, filled with dull gray mist and sulfurous\u003cbr\u003eash that rose from burned-out craters. The land lost its character and\u003cbr\u003ebecame barren and lifeless. He felt himself drift closer, repulsed as he\u003cbr\u003edescended by the sights and smells of it. Humans wandered the\u003cbr\u003edevastation in packs, more animals than men. They rent and tore at each\u003cbr\u003eother; they howled and shrieked. Dark shapes flitted among them, shadows\u003cbr\u003ethat lacked substance yet had eyes of fire. The shadows moved through\u003cbr\u003ethe humans, joining with them, becoming them, leaving them again. They\u003cbr\u003emoved in a dance that was macabre, yet purposeful. The shadows were\u003cbr\u003edevouring the humans, he saw. The shadows were feeding on them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e--Watcha--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe vision shifted. He saw himself then, a skeletal, ragged beggar\u003cbr\u003efacing a cauldron of strange white fire that bubbled and swirled and\u003cbr\u003ewhispered his name. Vapors lifted from the cauldron and snaked their way\u003cbr\u003edown to where he stood, wrapping about him, caressing him as if he were\u003cbr\u003etheir child. Shadows flitted all about, passing by at first, then\u003cbr\u003eentering him as if he were a hollow casing in which they might play as\u003cbr\u003ethey chose. He could feel their touch; he wanted to scream.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e--Watch--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe vision shifted once more. There was a huge forest and in the middle\u003cbr\u003eof the forest a great mountain. Atop the mountain sat a castle, old and\u003cbr\u003eweathered, towers and parapets rising up against the dark of the land.\u003cbr\u003eParanor, he thought! It was Paranor come again! He felt something bright\u003cbr\u003eand hopeful well up within him, and he wanted to shout his elation. But\u003cbr\u003ethe vapors were already coiling about the castle. The shadows were\u003cbr\u003ealready flitting close. The ancient fortress began to crack and crumble,\u003cbr\u003estone and mortar giving way as if caught in a vise. The earth shuddered\u003cbr\u003eand screams lifted from the humans become animals. Fire erupted out of\u003cbr\u003ethe earth, splitting apart the mountain on which Paranor sat and then\u003cbr\u003ethe castle itself. Wailing filled the air, the sound of one bereft of\u003cbr\u003ethe only hope that had remained to him. The old man recognized the\u003cbr\u003ewailing as his own.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen the images were gone. He stood again before the Hadeshorn, in the\u003cbr\u003eshadow of the Dragon's Teeth, alone with the shade of Allanon. In\u003cbr\u003espite of his resolve, he was shaking.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe shade pointed at him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e--It will be as I have shown you if the dreams are ignored. It will be\u003cbr\u003eso if you fail to act. You must help. Go to themaO\"the boy, the girl,\u003cbr\u003eand the Dark Uncle. Tell them the dreams are real. Tell them to come to\u003cbr\u003eme here on the first night of the new moon when the present cycle is\u003cbr\u003ecomplete. I will speak with them then--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe old man frowned and muttered and worried his lower lip. His fingers\u003cbr\u003eonce more drew tight the drawstrings to the pouch, and he shoved it back\u003cbr\u003einto his belt. \"I will do so because there is no one else!\" he said\u003cbr\u003efinally, spitting out the words in distaste. \"But do not expect . . .\u003cbr\u003e!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e--Only go to them. Nothing more is required. Nothing more will be\u003cbr\u003easked. Go--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe shade of Allanon shimmered brightly and disappeared. The light\u003cbr\u003efaded, and the valley was empty again. The old man stood looking out\u003cbr\u003eover the still waters of the lake for a moment, then turned away.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe fire he had left behind still burned on his return, but it was small\u003cbr\u003enow and frail-looking against the night. The old man stared absently at\u003cbr\u003ethe flames, then hunkered down before them. He stirred at the ashes\u003cbr\u003ealready forming and listened to the silence of his thoughts.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe boy, the girl, and the Dark Uncle--he knew them. They were the\u003cbr\u003eShannara children, the ones who could save them all, the ones who could\u003cbr\u003ebring back the magic. He shook his grizzled head. How was he to convince\u003cbr\u003ethem? If they would not heed Allanon, what chance that they would heed\u003cbr\u003ehim?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe saw again in his mind the frightening visions. He had best find a way\u003cbr\u003eto make them listen, he thought. Because, as he was fond of reminding\u003cbr\u003ehimself, he knew something of visions, and there was a truth to these\u003cbr\u003ethat even one such as he, one who had foresworn the Druids and their\u003cbr\u003emagic, could recognize.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIf the Shannara children failed to listen, these visions would come to\u003cbr\u003epass.","brand":"Del Rey","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46302942429413,"sku":"NP9780345370747","price":8.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780345370747_c152d3fe-c156-428f-a830-daed26af3e2d.jpg?v=1767741362","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/the-scions-of-shannara-isbn-9780345370747","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}