Escape to worlds full of adventure and magic in the first-ever Terry Brooks short-story collection, featuring both new and fan-favorite stories from all three of his major literary worlds: Shannara, Magic Kingdom, and The Word and the Void. Here are heroes fighting new battles and struggling to conquer the ghosts of the past. Here are quests both small and far reaching; heroism both intimate and vast. Here we learn of Garet Jax’s childhood, see how Allanon first located Shea Ohmsford, and follow an old wing-rider at the end of his life. Here we see Knights of the Word fighting demons within and without, and witness Ben Holiday and his daughter each trying to overcome the unique challenges that Landover offers. This collection of eleven tales is a must-have addition to the Terry Brooks canon—a delightful way to spend time with favorite characters, and a wonderful reminder of what makes a Brooks story such a timeless classic. 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.” —Karen Russell, New York Times bestselling author of Swamplandia! “If Tolkien is the grandfather of modern fantasy, Terry Brooks is its favorite uncle.” —Peter V. Brett, New York Times bestselling author of The Core “I can’t even begin to count how many of Terry Brooks’s books I’ve read (and re-read) 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. 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. 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 series and the Fablehaven series Terry Brooks has thrilled readers for decades with his powers of imagination and storytelling. He is the author of more than thirty books, most of which have been New York Times bestsellers. He lives with his wife, Judine, in the Pacific Northwest. Introduction to “The Fey of Cloudmoor” I began reading science fiction and fantasy in middle school—right about 1956—although there was little enough of the latter being written at that time and most of the kids I knew were reading the former. It was the beginning of the age of space travel and Sputnik and travels to the moon, and that was what every kid I knew was reading about. I shouldn’t say kids but rather boys, because very few girls I knew had found their way to that sort of fiction yet. Anyway, among those writers whose works I read and admired—while still in my burgeoning wannabe professional writer mode—was Poul Anderson. In those days, I wasn’t reading or particularly interested in fantasy. I was strictly a science-fiction kid, with peripheral leanings toward adventure stories (Boys’ Life and the like), so my favorite stories by Poul tended to fall along those lines. But I remember one that didn’t. I read “The Queen of Air and Darkness” right after it came out in one of the science-fiction magazines, and I was captivated by it. When I was asked to contribute to the Poul Anderson anthology Multiverse in 2014, it was the first story I thought of. It always felt to me as if there were more to the story, as if the telling of it wasn’t finished. What happened afterward to the Queen and the Old Folk of Cloudmoor and Carheddin? Was that really the end of them when Sherrinford took back Jimmy Cullen? Could they really have been so easily dispatched? I felt a certain trepidation in trying to make those determinations for Poul. “The Queen of Air and Darkness” had won both the Hugo and Nebula, and has enthralled Poul Anderson readers for decades. Who was I to mess with an icon and his art? But my marching orders were clear: I was to take something from Poul’s astounding body of work and build on it. So that was what I tried to do. I met Poul Anderson once, years ago now, at a family gathering at his daughter’s home. I can no longer remember the occasion. He was quiet and unassuming and had about him the grandfatherly look I see in myself these days when I look in the mirror. I said hello and told him how much I admired his work. I have no idea if he knew who I was or what I did. He didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. It didn’t matter. What mattered was how it made me feel. Writers form links in an endless chain, one influencing another in a crucial, necessary rite of interaction and succession, ultimately so we may be inspired and our craft may evolve. Poul Anderson was one who did that for me. The Fey of Cloudmoor He came out of the world of Men and their cities of steel and concrete in tatters, all scratched up and dirtied on