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.He stood upon its rim, his black robeswrapped close about his tall, spare frame.There was a sudden wistfulness on his face.A mass of blackrock, glistening like opaque glass, crushed and strewn blindly, stretched downward to the valley floor,forming a broken walk.At the center of the rock stood a lake, its murky waters colored a dull, greenishblack, the surface swirling sluggishly in the empty, windless silence-swirling like a kettle of brew thatsome invisible hand stirred with slow, mechanical purpose.Father, he whispered soundlessly.A sudden scraping of booted feet on the loose rock caused him to glance quickly about, reminded of thetwo who traveled with him.They emerged now from the shadow of the rocks below to stand beside him.Silently, they stared downward into the barren valley. Is this it? Rone Leah asked shortly.Allanon nodded.Suspicion cloaked the highlander s words and lingered in his eyes.It was alwaysevident.There was no attempt to hide it. The Valley of Shale, the Druid said quietly.He started forward, winding his way down therock-strewn slope. We must hurry. Suspicion and mistrust were in the eyes of the Valegirl as well, though she sought to keep them from herface.There was always suspicion in those who shared his travel.It had been there with Shea Ohmsfordand Flick when he had taken them in search of the Sword of Shannara and with Wil Ohmsford and theElven girl Amberle when he had taken them in search of the Bloodfire.Perhaps it was deserved.Trustwas something to be earned, not blindly given, and to earn it, one must first be open and honest.He wasnever that-could never be that.He was a keeper of secrets that could be shared with no other, and hemust always veil the truth, for the truth could not be told, but must be learned.It was difficult to keepclose what he knew, yet to do otherwise would be to tamper with the trust that had been given to himand which he had worked hard to earn.His gaze flickered back briefly to be certain that the Valegirl and the highlander followed him; then heturned his attention again to the scattered rock at his feet, picking his way in studied silence.It would beeasy to forgo the trust he kept, to reveal all that he knew of the fate of those he counseled, to lay bare thesecrets he kept, and to let events transpire in a fashion different from that which he had ordered. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlYet he knew that he could never do that.He answered to a higher code of being and of duty.It was hislife and purpose.If it meant that he must endure their suspicion, then so it must be.Harsh though it was,the price was a necessary one.But I am so tired, he thought.Father, I am so tired.At the floor of the valley, he came to a halt.Valegirl and highlander stopped beside him, and he turned toface them.One arm lifted from within the black robes and pointed to the waters of the lake. The Hadeshorn, he whispered. My father waits there, and I must go to him.You will stand here until Icall.Do not move from this place.Whatever happens, do not move.Except for you and me, only thedead live here. Neither replied.They nodded their assent, eyes darting uneasily to where the waters of the Hadeshornswirled soundlessly.He studied their faces a moment longer, then turned and walked away.A strange sense of expectation swept through him as he approached the lake, almost as if he were at theend of along journey.It was always that way, he supposed, thinking back.There was that strange senseof coming home.Once Paranor had been the home of the Druids.But the other Druids were gone now,and this valley felt more like home than the Keep.All things began and ended here.It was here that hereturned to find the sleep that renewed his life each time his journeys through the Four Lands werefinished, with his mortal shell hung half within this world and half within the world of death.Here bothworlds touched, a small crossing point that gave him some brief access to all that had been and all thatwould ever be.Most important of all, he would find his father here.Trapped, exiled, and waiting to be delivered!He blocked the thought from his mind.Dark eyes lifted briefly to the faint lightening of the eastern sky,then dropped again to the lake.Shea Ohmsford had come here once, many years ago, with his halfbrother Flick and the others of the small company who had gone in search of the Sword of Shannara.Ithad been prophesied that one of their number would be lost, and so it had happened.Shea had beenswept over the falls below the Dragon s Crease.The Druid remembered the mistrust and suspicion theothers had exhibited toward him.Yet he had been fond of Shea, of Flick, and of Wil Ohmsford.Sheahad been almost like a son to him-would have been, perhaps, had he been permitted to have a son.WilOhmsford had been more a comrade-in-arms, sharing the responsibility for the search that would restorethe Ellcrys and save the Elves.His dark face creased thoughtfully.Now there was Brin, a girl with power that surpassed anything thather forebears had possessed in their time.What would she be to him?He had reached the edge of the lake, and he came to a halt.He stood for a moment looking down intothe depthless water, wishing.Then slowly he lifted his arms skyward, power radiating out from his body,and the Hadeshorn began to churn restlessly.The waters swirled faster, beginning to boil and hiss, andspray rose skyward.All about the Druid, the empty valley shuddered and rumbled as if awakened from along, dreamless sleep.Then the cries rose, low and terrible, from out of the, depths of the lake.Come to me, the Druid called soundlessly.Be free.The cries rose higher, shrill and less than human-imprisoned souls calling out in their bondage, straining to Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlbe free.The whole of the darkened valley filled with their wail, and the spray of the Hadeshorn s murkywaters hissed with sharp relief.Come!From out of the roiling dark waters the shade of Bremen lifted, its thin, skeletal body a transparent grayagainst the night, shrouded and bent with age.Out of the waters, the terrible form rose to stand upon thesurface with Allanon.Slowly the Druid lowered his arms, black robes wrapping tight as if for warmth;within his cowl, his dark face lifted to find the empty, sightless eyes of his father.I am here.The arms of the shade lifted then.Though they did not touch him, Allanon felt their cold embrace wrapabout him like death.Slow and anguished, his father s voice reached out to him.The age ends.The circle is closed.-The chill within him deepened, froze him as ice.The words ran on together as one, and though he heardthem all, each in painful detail, they were strung and tightened like knots upon a line.He listened to themall in silent desperation, afraid as he had never been afraid, understanding at last what was meant to be,must be, and would be.In his hard, black eyes, there were tears.In frightened silence, Brin Ohmsford and Rone Leah stood where the Druid had left them and watchedthe emergence of the shade of Bremen from the depths of the Hadeshorn.Cold sliced through them,borne not on some errant wind, for there was none, but by the coming of the shade
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