Read Online The Elfstones of Shannara by Terry Brooks - Free Book Online

name was Amberle Elessedil.”
    The Druid paused, studying carefully the face of the Elven King. It was lined with bitterness. All of its color had drained away.
    â€œIt is unusual for a young woman to be selected as a Chosen,” Allanon continued calmly. “There have been no more than a handful, I think—not another in the last five hundred years.”
    The King shook his head angrily. “Amberle’s selection was an honor that meant nothing to her. She spurned that honor. She shamed her people and her family. She is no longer one of the Chosen. She is no longer a citizen of this land. She is an outcast by her own choice!”
    Allanon came to his feet swiftly, his face suddenly hard.
    â€œShe is your granddaughter, and you speak as a fool would.”
    Eventine stiffened at the rebuke, but held his tongue. The Druid came up to him.
    â€œHear me. Amberle is a Chosen. It is true that she did not serve the Ellcrys as did the others. It is true that she forsook her duty as a Chosen. It is true that for reasons known only to herself she left Arborlon and the Westland, her home, despite the responsibilities that were clearly hers, that she disgraced her family and particularly you, as King, in the eyes of her people. It is true that she has made herself an outcast. It is true that she does not believe herself to be one of the Chosen any longer.
    â€œBut know this. It is not for you nor for her people to take from her what the Ellcrys has given. It is not even for her to do that. It is for the Ellcrys alone. Until the Ellcrys says differently, Amberle remains a Chosen in her service—a Chosen who may bear her seed in search of the Bloodfire, a Chosen who may give her new life.”
    Allanon paused. “A King may not understand all things, Eventine Elessedil, even though he be a King. Some things you must simply accept.”
    Eventine stared at the Druid without speaking, the anger gone now from his eyes, replaced with hurt and confusion.
    â€œI was close to her once,” he said finally. “After her father—my son Aine—died, I became her father. She was still a child, only five. In the evenings, we would play together . . .” He stopped, unable to continue. He took a deep breath to steady himself. “There was a quality about her that I have not since found; a sweetness, an innocence, a loving. I am an old man speaking these words about his grandchild, but I do not speak blindly. I knew her.”
    Allanon said nothing. The King moved back to his chair and slowly seated himself once more.
    â€œThe histories record no other woman selected to serve as a Chosen since the time of Jerle Shannara. Amberle was the first—the first in more than five hundred years. It was an honor others would have given anything for.” He shook his head wonderingly. “Yet Amberle walked away from it. She gave no explanation—not to me, not to her mother, not to anyone. Not one word. She just left.”
    He trailed off helplessly. Allanon sat down across from him again, his dark eyes intense.
    â€œShe must be brought back. She is the only hope that the Elven people have.”
    â€œFather.” Ander spoke before he had time to think better of it. Impulsively he knelt next to the old man. “Father, on the night before he was killed, Lauren told me something. He told me that the Ellcrys had spoken with Amberle many times after her choosing. That had never happened before. Perhaps Amberle is our best hope.”
    The King looked at him blankly, as if the words he had spoken meant nothing. Then he placed his hands flat against the worn surface of the reading table and nodded once.
    â€œI find that hope a slim one, Ander. Our people may accept her back again, if only because they have need of her. I am not altogether certain of this; what she has done by her rejection is unpardonable in their eyes. And perhaps the Ellcrys, too, may accept her—accept her