"Brooks, Terry - Heritage 01 - The Scions of Shannara" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brooks Terry)

down the darkened hallway. "If you keep singing about it, who
knows? Maybe there will be."

Par let himself be led away like a child. He was no longer
thinking about heroes though, or Elves or Druids, or even about
Seekers.

He was thinking about the dreams.

They told the story of the Elven stand at Halys Cut, how
Eventine Elessedil and the Elves and Stee Jans and the Legion
Free Corps fought to hold the Breakline against the onslaught
of the Demon hordes. It was one of Par's favorite stories, the

12 The Scions of Shannara

first of the great Elven battles in that terrible Westland war. They
stood on a low platform at one end of the main serving room,
Par in the forefront. cole a step back and aside, the lights dimmed
against a sea of tightly packed bodies and watchful eyes. While
cole narrated the story. Par sang to provide the accompanying
images, and the ale house came alive with the magic of his
voice. He invoked in the hundred or more gathered the feelings
of fear, anger, and determination that had infused the defenders
of the Cut. He let them see the fury of the Demons; he let them
hear their battle cries. He drew them in and would not let them
go. They stood in the pathway of the Demon assault. They saw
the wounding of Eventine and the emergence of his son Ander
as leader of the Elves. They watched the Druid Allanon stand
virtually alone against the Demon magic and turn it aside. They
experienced life and death with an intimacy that was almost
terrifying.

When cole and he were finished, there was stunned silence,
then a wild thumping of ale glasses and cheers and shouts of
elation unmatched in any performance that had gone before. It
seemed for a moment that those gathered might bring the rafters
of the ale house down about their ears, so vehement were they
in their appreciation. Par was damp with his own sweat, aware
for the first time how much he had given to the telling. Yet his
mind was curiously detached as they left the platform for the
brief rest they were permitted between tellings, thinking still of
the dreams.

cole stopped for a glass of ale by an open storage room and
Par continued down the hallway a short distance before coming
to an empty barrel turned upright by the cellar doors. He slumped
down wearily, his thoughts tight.

He had been having the dreams for almost a month now, and