The Elfstones of Shannara by Terry Brooks Page B

Four Lands. What aid I can offer, I offer freely. But there is one condition. I must be free to act in this matter as I see fit. Even though you disapprove, Eventine Elessedil. Even then. Do you understand?”
    The King hesitated, his blue eyes studying the dark face of the other man, searching for answers that clearly were not to be found there. At last, he nodded.
    â€œI understand. You may act as you wish in this.”
    The Druid sat back, carefully masking any emotion as he faced Ander and the King.
    â€œFirst, I believe that I can aid in discovering the location of Safehold. What I was shown of Safehold by the Ellcrys when we spoke was not familiar to me, as I have said. It was not familiar because it was drawn from her memory of the world at the time of her creation. The Great Wars altered the geography of the old world so completely that her perception of it now is quite faulty. Still, we have the name Safehold. You have told me that the histories of the Elven Kings and those of the Order of the Chosen do not record the name. But there is another place to look. At Paranor, within the Druid’s Keep, there are histories devoted entirely to the sciences and mystic phenomena of the old world. Within those books, there may be some mention of the creation of the Ellcrys and the location of the Bloodfire. This is a distinct possibility because much of the information contained in those histories was gathered at the time of the First Council of the Druids—drawn from each member as it had been handed down since the holocaust. Remember, too, that the guiding light of that council was Galaphile, and Galaphile was an Elf. He would have seen to it that something about the creation of the Ellcrys and the location of the fountain of the Bloodfire was set down.”
    He paused. “Tonight, when we are finished here, I will go on to Paranor. The histories are well hidden to any but the Druids, so it is necessary that I go myself. But I believe that within their pages is recorded some mention of the name Safehold. From what is written there, we may hope to discover the location of the Bloodfire.”
    He folded his hands on the table’s edge, and his eyes fixed on those of the King.
    â€œNow as to the Chosen, Eventine, you are mistaken entirely. They are not all dead.”
    For an instant, the room went deathly still. Amberle! Ander thought in astonishment. He means Amberle!
    â€œAll six were killed . . .!” Eventine began, then stopped abruptly.
    â€œThere were seven Chosen,” the Druid said quietly. “Seven.”
    The King went rigid, his hands gripping the edges of the table until the knuckles were white. His eyes mirrored anger and disbelief.
    â€œAmberle,” he breathed the name like a curse.
    The Druid nodded. “She is one of the Chosen.”
    â€œNo!” The King was on his feet, shouting. “No, Druid!”
    There was a scurrying of footsteps in the hallway beyond and then a pounding on the study door. Ander realized what his father had done. His shouts had brought Dardan and Rhoe. Hurriedly, he went to the door and opened it. He was surprised to find not only the guards, but Gael as well. All peered curiously into the study, but the Elven Prince carefully blocked their view. Then his father was beside him.
    â€œI told you to go home, Gael,” Eventine reprimanded the young Elf sternly. “Do so now.”
    Gael bowed mechanically, his face showing the hurt he felt at the other man’s words, and disappeared back down the hallway without a word. The King nodded to the Elven Hunters, reassuring them that he was all right, and they returned to their watch.
    The King stood silently in the open entry a moment, then closed the door. The penetrating blue eyes swept past his son to Allanon.
    â€œHow did you find out about Amberle?”
    â€œWhen the Ellcrys spoke with me, she told me that seven had been chosen to serve. One was a young girl. Her