The Annotated Sword of Shannara: 35th Anniversary Edition (The Sword of Shannara)
Terry Brooks
Language: English
Pages: 0
ISBN: 0449013340
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
THE PHENOMENAL EPIC OF GOOD AND EVIL LIKE IT’S NEVER BEEN EXPERIENCED BEFORE
Thirty-five years ago, Terry Brooks brought to life a dazzling world in The Sword of Shannara. Nineteen more Shannara volumes would follow, making the series one of the most popular fantasy epics of all time. Now comes a fully annotated collector’s edition of the novel that started it all—featuring never-before-shared insights into the classic tale, an all-new introduction by the New York Times bestselling author, and replicas of the original sketches for some of the long-lost, black-and-white paintings by the Brothers Hildebrandt that decorated the original edition, and a replica of the original Hildebrandt central color plate on the back of the jacket..
Long ago, wars ravaged the world. In peaceful Shady Vale, half-elfin Shea Ohmsford knows little of such troubles. Then the giant, forbidding Allanon reveals that the supposedly dead Warlock Lord is plotting to destroy everything in his wake. The sole weapon against this Power of Darkness is the Sword of Shannara, which can be used only by a true heir of Shannara. On Shea, last of the bloodline, rests the hope of all the races.
Soon a Skull Bearer, dread minion of a mighty evil, flies into the Vale, seeking to destroy Shea. To save his home, Shea must flee, drawing the Skull Bearer after him in menacing pursuit.
Thus begins the enthralling Shannara epic, a spellbinding tale of adventure, magic, and myth.
PRAISE FOR TERRY BROOKS
“The Sword of Shannara is an unforgettable and wildly entertaining epic, animated by Terry Brooks’s cosmically generative imagination and storytelling joy. This was one of my favorite fictional worlds growing up, and I look forward to many return trips.”—Karen Russell, New York Times bestselling author of Swamplandia!
“Terry Brooks has been my constant companion over a lifetime of exploring my beloved fantasy genre. I say with all honesty I would not be writing epic fantasy today if not for Shannara. If Tolkien is the grandfather of modern fantasy, Terry Brooks is its favorite uncle.”—Peter V. Brett, New York Times bestselling author of The Desert Spear
“I can’t even begin to count how many of Terry Brooks’s books I’ve read (and reread) over the years. From Shannara to Landover, his work was a huge part of my childhood.”—Patrick Rothfuss, New York Times bestselling author of The Name of the Wind
“Terry Brooks is a master of the craft and a trailblazer who established fantasy as a viable genre. Not only do I owe him for many hours of reading pleasure, I owe him my job. He is required reading.”—Brent Weeks, New York Times bestselling author of The Night Angel Trilogy
“The Shannara books were among the first to really capture my imagination. I didn’t just enjoy reading the novels—the world became so real that I would spend hours creating Shannara fan-fiction in my mind. My daydreams and therefore my stories will always owe a debt to Terry Brooks.”—Brandon Mull, #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Beyonders and Fablehaven series
From the Hardcover edition.
battle, dark faces only inches apart, the lean arms of the giant Druid holding firm the claw-tipped limbs of the deadly spirit creature. The Skull Bearer was attempting to bring his razor-sharp hands close enough to the mystic’s unprotected throat to rip the life out of him and end the battle quickly. The black wings heaved with the exertion, flapping in fury to add momentum to the assault, the unmistakable rasp of its breathing cutting the heated air with ragged desperation. Then suddenly the
retracing mentally his long, endless journey from Shady Vale. So much of it was still a mystery. He had come so far, endured so much, and still he didn’t know what it was all about. The secret of the Sword of Shannara, the Warlock Lord, his own heritage—it was no clearer now than before. The company was out there somewhere looking for him, led by the secretive, mystic Allanon, who seemed to be the only man with the answers to all the unanswered questions. Why had he not told Shea everything from
and Shirl nodded, because it was expected of them. “He won’t escape from the dungeons then?” Menion pursued the matter a bit further. “He tried last night … with his friends.” Palance smiled with satisfaction. “But we caught them and trapped them … trapped them in the dungeon forever. Stenmin is there now … you must meet him …” Again he straightened up with the thought left unspoken, his attention given over to the servants, several of whom he beckoned to his side. He crisply directed them to
across the expanse of yesterday’s battlefield from the bluff defenses to beyond the charred timbers of two fallen siege towers. They did not move; they did not speak. They simply waited. Hendel recognized what was happening and whispered hurriedly to Balinor. Swiftly, the Legion Commander sent runners along the walls to his subordinates, warning them of what was expected, cautioning them to keep their soldiers calm and in place. Menion was about to ask what was happening when suddenly there was
telling him that the hour had come for them to depart. He rose unsteadily in the cold night air and, after a moment’s hesitation, hastened to dress. Flick was already awake and half dressed, the stolid face a welcome sight in the eerie silence of midnight. Shea felt strong once again, strong enough to make the long march across the Rabb Plains to the Dragon’s Teeth and beyond if necessary—anything to reach the end of the journey. Minutes later, the three companions were making their way through