The Elfstones of Shannara Read Online Free PDF

that only one of the Chosen who were selected by her this last time can receive that seed. No other will be considered. Whoever is selected must carry the seed to the life source of the earth—to the fountain of the Bloodfire. There the seed must be immersed within the fire by the bearer. Once returned to the site of the old tree, the seed will take root and a new tree will spring forth to replace the old.”
    The details of the legend were coming back to Ander now—the bearing of the Ellcrys seed, the ritual of the Bloodfire, the rebirth. It was told in the strange, formal language of the oldest histories—histories that most of the people had forgotten or never known.
    â€œThe fountain of the Bloodfire—where is it to be found?” he asked abruptly.
    Lauren looked miserable. “A place was shown us, my Lord Prince, but . . . but we could not recognize it. The images were vague, almost as if she lacked the ability to describe it properly.”
    Eventine’s voice remained calm. “Tell me what you were shown. Everything.”
    Lauren nodded. “There was a wilderness with mountains and swamp all around. There was a deep mist that came and went. Within the wilderness was a lone peak and beneath the peak a maze of tunnels that burrowed deep within the earth. Somewhere within the maze there was a door made of glass—glass that could not break. Behind the door was the Bloodfire.”
    â€œNo names for any of the parts of this puzzle?” the King asked patiently.
    â€œOnly one, my lord. But it was a name we did not recognize. The maze in which the Bloodfire lies hidden appears to be called Safehold.”
    Safehold? Ander searched his memory, but the name meant nothing to him.
    Eventine glanced at Ander and shook his head. He rose to his feet, walked several paces from the table, then stopped abruptly. He turned back to Lauren. “Is there nothing more that you were told? No hints—bits that might not seem to have any meaning?”
    â€œNothing. That was all.”
    The King nodded slowly to the young Elf. “Very well, Lauren. You were right in insisting I be told at once. Now, will you wait outside for a little while?”
    When the door had closed behind the Chosen, Eventine walked back to his chair and lowered himself slowly. His face seemed to have aged terribly and his movements were those of an old, old man. Manx moved over in front of him, and the grizzled face stared upward sympathetically. Eventine sighed and moved his hand tiredly to the dog’s head.
    â€œHave I lived too long?” he muttered. “If the Ellcrys dies, how can I protect my people from what will happen then? I am their King; the responsibility for their protection is mine. I have always accepted that. Yet for the first time in my life, I wish it were otherwise . . .”
    He trailed off reluctantly, then turned to look at Ander. “Well, we must do what we can. With Arion gone to the Sarandanon, I will need your help.” Ander flushed at the unintended rebuke. “Go with Lauren and question the Chosen carefully. See if there is anything more that may be learned. Anything. I will have the old histories moved up from the vaults and examine them.”
    â€œDo you think there might be something there—or in the old world maps?” Ander asked doubtfully.
    â€œNo. You have read them more recently than I, but I can remember nothing. Still, what else can we do? If we are to have any chance at all of finding the Bloodfire, we must have more than what Lauren has been able to tell us.”
    He nodded in dismissal. Ander went out to join Lauren, to return with him to the tree where the other Chosen would be waiting. There he would attempt to discover something more of the mysterious Safehold. It seemed a hopeless effort. But, as his father had said, what else could they do?

 
    IV
    Â 
    T he summer day ended with a brilliant burst of red and