Heritage of Shannara 1 – The Scions of Shannara by Brooks, Terry

Granny Elise sat them down at one of the long tables and

brought them plates of food and glasses of harsh ale. From

overhead came the sounds of thumping and yelling as the chil-

dren played. “It is hard to supervise so many when there is only

the two of us,” she apologized, serving Coil a second helping

of meat stew. “But the women we hire to help out never seem

to stay very long.”

“Were you able to get a message to Steff?” Morgan asked

quietly.

Granny Elise nodded, her smile suddenly sad. “I wish I could

see more of that child, Morgan. I worry so about him.”

They finished their meal and sat quietly in the evening shad-

ows as Granny Elise and Auntie Jilt finished with the children

and saw them all off to bed. A pair of candles burned on the

table where the three sat, but the remainder of the room was left

dark. The voices upstairs faded away one by one, and the silence

deepened.

Auntie Jilt came back into the kitchen after a time and sat

with them. She didn’t speak, her sharp face lowered as she con-

centrated on her needlepoint, her head bobbing slightly. Out-

side, somewhere, a bell rang three times and went still. Auntie

Jilt looked up briefly. “Federation curfew,” she muttered. “No

one is allowed out after it sounds.”

The room went silent again. Granny Elise appeared and

worked quietly at the sink. One of the children upstairs began

to cry and she went out again. The Ohmsfords and Morgan Leah

looked at each other and the room and waited.

Then, suddenly, there was a soft tapping at the kitchen door.

Three taps. Auntie Jilt looked up, her fingers stilled, and waited.

The seconds slipped away. Then the tapping came again, three

times, a pause, three times again.

Auntie Jilt rose quickly, walked to the door, unlatched it

and peeked out. Then she opened the door wide for an instant

and a shadowy figure slipped into the room. Auntie Jilt pushed

the door closed again. Granny Elise appeared at the same

instant from the hall, motioned Morgan and the Ohmsford

brothers to their feet and led them over to where the stranger

stood.

“This is Teel,” said Granny Elise. “She will take you to

Steff.”

It was hard to tell much of anything about Teel. She was a

Dwarf, but smaller than most, rather slight, clothed in dark,

nondescript forest clothing including a short cloak and hood.

Her features were hidden by a strange leather mask that wrapped

the whole of her face, save for her right jaw and her mouth. A

glimmer of dusky blond hair was visible within the covering of

the hood.

Granny Elise reached up and hugged Morgan. “Be careful,

youngster,” she cautioned. She smiled, patted Par and Coil

gently on the shoulder, and hastened to the door. She peeked

through the curtains for a moment, then nodded. Teel went out

through the door without a word. The Ohmsfords and Morgan

Leah went with her.

Outside, they slipped silently along the side of the old house

and through a back fence onto a narrow pathway. They fol-

lowed the pathway to an empty road, then turned right. The

mix of cottages and shacks that lined the roadway were dark,

their silhouettes ragged and broken against the sky. Teel

moved them down the road quickly and into a patch of fir.

She stopped then and dropped into a crouch, motioning them

down with her. Moments later, a Federation patrol of five

appeared. They joked and talked among themselves as they

passed, unconcerned with any who might hear them. Then

their voices faded and they were gone. Teel stood up, and

they were off again.

They stayed on the road for another hundred yards, then turned

into the forest. They were on the very edge of the village now,

almost due north, and the sounds of insects began to break

through the stillness. They slipped along silently through the

trees, Teel pausing now and then to listen before continuing on.

The smell of wildflowers filled the air, sweet and strong against

the reek of garbage.

Then Teel stopped at a line of thick brush, pushed the branches

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