03-The Wishsong of Shannara by Terry Brooks

Author:Terry Brooks [Brooks, Terry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Del Rey
Published: 2009-01-05T05:00:00+00:00

Suddenly, there was a sound, faint and cautious — a soft rustling of dried leaves as something moved among them.

“There!” Rone cried, his hand pointing.

Something came into view through the trees on the far side of the glen. Still hidden within the gloom, it stopped suddenly, catching sight of the three who watched it. For long moments, it stayed frozen within its shelter, invisible eyes staring out at them, a silent shadow within the dark.

Then, with swift and certain intent, it stepped from the trees into the light. The chill that had settled within Brin turned instantly to frost. She had never seen anything like the creature that stood before them now. It was man-shaped in appearance, raised upright in a half-crouch, its long arms dangling loosely before it. It was a big, strong creature, lean and heavily muscled. Its skin was a strange reddish color, drawn tight against its powerful body; it was hairless except for a thick ruff that grew about its loins. Great, hooked claws curled from its fingers and toes. Its face lifted toward them, and it was the face of some grotesque beast, blunt and scarred. Gleaming yellow eyes fixed upon their own, and its snout split wide in a hideous grin to reveal a mass of crooked teeth.

“What is it?” Rone Leah whispered in horror.

“What was promised,” Allanon replied softly, his voice strangely distracted.

The reddish thing came forward a few steps further to the edge of the glen. There it stopped and waited.

Allanon turned to the Valegirl and the highlander. “It is a Jachyra, a thing of another age, a thing of great evil. It was locked from the lands by the magic of the creatures of faerie in a time before the dawn of man — in a time even farther back than that in which the Elves created the Forbidding. Only magic of equal power could have set it free again.

He straightened and brought his black robes close about him. “It appears that I was wrong — the Mord Wraiths did anticipate that we might come this way. Only within a place like these mountains, a place where the magic still lives, could a thing like the Jachyra be set loose again. The Wraiths have given us an adversary far more dangerous than they to overcome.”

“Suppose we find out how dangerous,” Rone suggested bravely and drew forth the ebony blade of the Sword of Leah.

“No.” Allanon caught his arm quickly. “This battle is mine.”

The highlander glanced at Brin for support. “It seems to me that any battle to be fought on this journey must be fought by all of us.”

But Allanon shook his head. “Not this time, Prince of Leah. You have shown your courage and your devotion to this girl. I no longer question either. But the power of this creature is beyond you. I must face it alone.”

“Allanon, don’t!” Brin cried suddenly, grasping his arm.

He looked down at her then, the worn face and the eyes that penetrated past all that she would hide a mask of sad determination.

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