Moments later he stood within the bedchamber of the Elven King, the door closing softly behind him. Candlelight illuminated the room with a dim, hazy glow that seeped through the gloom into shadowed corners and hidden nooks with a blind man’s touch. Windows stood closed and drapes drawn, masking the room in silence. On a wide double bed at the far end of the chamber lay Eventine, swathed in bandages and linen sheets. At his side Ander dozed fitfully in a high–backed wicker, chair.
Wordlessly, Allanon came forward and stopped at the foot of the bed. The old King slept, his breathing ragged and slow, his skin the color of new parchment.The end of his life was near. It was the passing of an age, the Druid thought. They would all be gone now, all those who had stood against the Warlock Lord, all those who had aided in the quest for the elusive Sword of Shannara — all but the Ohmsfords, Shea and Flick.
A grim, ironic smile passed slowly across his lips. And himself, of course. Ire was still there. He was always there.
Beneath the linen coverings, Eventine stirred. It will happen now, Allanon told himself. For the first time that night, a touch of bitterness showed in his hard face.
Silently he moved back within the concealing shadows at the rear of the room and waited.
Ander Elessedil came awake with a start. Eyes blurred with sleep, he peered guardedly about the empty bedchamber, searching for ghosts that were not there. A frightening sense of aloneness swept through him. So many of those who should have been there were not: Arion, Pindanon, Crispin, Ehlron Tay, Kerrin. All dead.
He slumped back in the wicker chair, weariness numbing him until he could feel nothing but the ache of joints and muscles. How long had he slept, he wondered? He didn’t know. Gael would be back soon, bringing food and drink, and together they would keep this vigil, watching over the stricken King. Waiting.
Memories haunted him, memories of his father and what had been, spectral images of the past, of times and places and events that would never be again. They were bittersweet, a reminder both of the happiness shared and its transience. On balance, he would have preferred that the memories leave him in peace this night.
He thought suddenly of his father and Amberle, of the special affection they had felt for each other, the closeness that had been lost and found again — gone now, all of it. It was difficult even now to comprehend the transformation that Amberle had undergone. He had to keep reminding himself that it was real, that it was not imagined. He could still see the little Wing Rider, Perk, telling him what he had witnessed, his child’s face awestruck and frightened all at once, so determined and so concerned that he should not be doubted.
His head tilted back and his eyes closed. Few knew the truth yet. He was still undecided as to whether or not it should remain that way.
«Ander.»
He jerked upright, and his father’s penetrating blue eyes met his own. He was so surprised that, for an instant, he simply stared down at the old man.
«Ander — what has happened?»
The Elven King’s voice was a thin, harsh whisper in the stillness. Quickly Ander knelt down beside him.
«It is over,” he replied softly. «We have won. The Demons are locked once more within the Forbidding. The Ellcrys…»
He could not finish. He did not have the words. His father’s hand slipped from beneath the coverings to find his own.
«Amberle?»
Ander took a deep breath, and there were tears in his eyes. He forced himself to meet his father’s gaze.
«Safe,” he whispered. «Resting now.»
There was a long pause. A trace of a smile slipped across his father’s face.
Then his eyes closed. A moment later he was dead.
Allanon stood within the shadows several minutes more before stepping forward.
«Ander,” he called softly.
The Elven Prince rose, releasing his father’s hand. «He’s gone, Allanon. ”
«And you are King. Be the King he would have wanted you to be.»
Ander turned, his eyes searching. «Did you know, Allanon? I have wondered often since Baen Draw. Did you know that all this would happen, that I would be King?»
The Druid’s features seemed to close in about him momentarily, and his dark face lost all expression. «I could not have prevented from happening that which happened, Elven Prince,” he replied slowly. «I could only try to prepare you for what was to be.»
«Then you knew?»
Allanon nodded. «I knew. I am a Druid.»
Ander took a deep breath. «I will do the best that I can, Allanon.»
«Then you will do well, Ander Elessedil.»
He watched the Elven Prince move back to the dead King, saw him cover his father as he would a sleeping child, then kneel once more at the bedside.
Allanon turned and slipped noiselessly from the room, from the manor house, from the city, and from the land. No one saw him go.
It was dawn when Wil Ohmsford was shaken gently awake, silver–gray light seeping through curtained windows to chase the fading dark. His eyes blinked slowly open and he found himself staring up at Perk.
«Wil?» The little Wing Rider’s face was a mask of seriousness.
«Hello, Perk.»
«How are you feeling?»
«A little better, I think.»
«That’s good.» Perk tried a quick smile. «I was really worried.»
Wil smiled back. «Me, too.»
Perk sat down on the edge of the bed. «I’m sorry to wake you, but I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.»
«You’re leaving?»
The youth nodded. «I should have left last night, but I had to rest Genewen. She was pretty tired after that long flight. But I have to leave now. I should have been back at the Wing Hove two days ago. They will probably be searching for me.» He paused. «But they’ll understand when I explain what happened. They won’t be mad.»
«I hope not. I wouldn’t want that.»
«My Uncle Dayn said he would explain it to them, too. Did you know that my Uncle Dayn was here, Wil? My grandfather sent him. Uncle Dayn said I acted like a true Wing Rider. He said what Genewen and I did was very important.»
Wil pushed himself up slightly against his pillows. «So it was, Perk. Very important.»
«I couldn’t just leave you. I knew you might need me.»
«We needed you very, much.»
«And I didn’t think my grandfather would mind if I disobeyed just this once.
«I don’t think he will mind.»
Perk looked down at his hands. «Wil, I’m sorry about the Lady Amberle. I really am.»
Wil nodded slowly. «I know, Perk.»
«She really was enchanted, wasn’t she? She was enchanted and the enchantment turned her into the tree.» He looked up quickly. «That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? To turn into the tree so the Demons would disappear? That was the way it was supposed to be?»
The Valeman swallowed hard. «Yes.»
«I was really scared, you know,” Perk said quietly. «I wasn’t sure whether that was supposed to happen or not. It was so sudden. She never said anything about it to me before it happened, so when it did happen it scared me.»
«I don’t think she wanted to scare you.»
«No, I don’t think so either.»
«She just didn’t have time enough to explain.»
Perk shrugged. «Oh, I know that. It was just so sudden.»
They were quiet a moment, and then the little Wing Rider rose. «I just wanted to say goodbye, Wil. Would
