By Terry Brooks

The excessive Druid of Shannara trilogy attracts to an exhilarating shut as a tender hero nears crowning glory of his trial via hearth, a banished ruler fights for her lifestyles in a barren region of dread, and forces of darkness and lightweight sq. off in a conflict unto dying for the best to absolute rule. organize to be spellbound via the masterly hand of bestselling legend weaver Terry Brooks, conjuring on the height of his skills.

For purposes recognized in basic terms to himself, the King of the Silver River has charged younger Penderrin Ohmsford, slightly greater than a boy, with the daunting activity of rescuing his aunt, Grianne, Ard Rhys of the Druid order, from her pressured exile within the terrifying measurement of all issues damned: the Forbidding. With the noble dwarf Tagwen and the prodigal elven princess Khyber Elessedil by way of his side–and with the result of the bloody struggle among the Federation and the Free-born at stake–Pen has permitted his project with no query. yet no longer with out possibility . . . or sacrifice.

Because Shadea a’Ru, the ruthless Druid liable for imprisoning the real Ard Rhys and usurping management at Paranor, has despatched her brokers and assassins in relentless pursuit of Pen and his comrades. And in securing the talisman he must breach the Forbidding, Pen has paid a devastating cost. Now if the Free-born forces–already decimated by means of the Federation’s death-dealing new weapon–should fall, Shadea’s domination of the 4 Lands should be guaranteed. not anything wanting Pen’s luck can flip the tide.

But Pen’s problem grows better while he learns that his mom and dad, Bek Ohmsford and Rue Meridian, have fallen into Shadea’s fingers. He needs to try and aid them–but as soon as in the partitions of Druid’s preserve, the place Shadea’s minions and darkish magic lurk at each flip, Pen’s survival is much from guaranteed. but it is going to all light compared to the horrors that wait contained in the Forbidding–horrors poised to wreck loose upon the 4 Lands while the time is true. . . .

From the Hardcover edition.

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She was once Grianne Ohmsford back. She used to be Ard Rhys of the 3rd Druid Order once again. yet she used to be additionally the Ilse Witch and the issues the Ilse Witch might turn into. She had opened a door she had stored rigorously closed for greater than two decades, and he or she was once uncertain what it should take to shut it back. They went down a hall coated with doorways that opened into cells like her personal, a few of them empty, a few of them develop into packing containers for piles of bones and small lumps at which she selected to not glance too heavily. The hall was once silent and musty and empty of existence. She heard Weka Dart’s respiring and the scrape of his boots, yet her personal passage used to be soundless, a wraith’s passage via darkest evening. The hall ended at a suite of slender steps top up, yet Weka Dart took her into the shadows at the back of the steps, the place a rusted iron door was once seated within the stone. He labored its historical latch backward and forward, a sluggish creaking within the deep silence, and finally the door opened right into a wall of blackness. “Very darkish down here,” the Ulk lavatory introduced solemnly. He reached into the blackness to supply a torch, caught its pitch-coated tip into the flames of 1 already lit within the hall in the back of them, and stuck it aflame. He gave the fireplace a second to unfold, then grinned at her once again and led the way in which ahead. She him down into the earth, down stairs eroded by way of centuries of footsteps and moisture, into depths so frigid that the chilly reduce correct to the bone. The tunnels they traversed smelled of previous damp and uncooked steel, and from time to time she observed what seemed like frost at the rock yet used to be, actually, patches of lichen that glowed with a wierd, vibrant radiance. Weka Dart’s torch burned with smoky insistence, clogging the air with its certain scent, inflicting her to cough and at last forcing her to respire during the sleeve of her tunic. there has been no air flow within the tunnels, and the odor of burning pitch trailed after them like a marker. If somebody notion to appear for them down there, they wouldn't have a troublesome time monitoring them, she suggestion. Weka Dart pressed on as though pursuit weren't a priority, glancing again at her at times to make sure she was once maintaining, as though frightened he could lose her at midnight. certainly, it wasn’t an altogether unrealistic challenge. She used to be already having difficulty maintaining with him, even absent his tendency to roam as he had previous of their travels. Her head ached from the chilly and smoke, and her physique was once fatigued and shaky. She wanted she had hunted for anything to devour or drink, yet she had now not even considered that, so fearful had she been to get away from the cells. truthfully, she had no longer eaten or inebriated in any average manner on the grounds that she had come into the Forbidding, and the slow erosion of her strength was once ultimately making itself felt. Time handed, greater than she may well retain tune of, and the trek in the course of the tunnels underneath Kraal succeed in wore on. essentially decided to take them via as rapidly as attainable, Weka Dart didn't cease or maybe gradual. now and then, he retrieved a clean torch from a crevice she might have glided by with no even seeing, lighting fixtures it from the previous one in order that they may perhaps proceed.

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