air close at hand, but beyond its screen the horizon was ablaze
with color.
The company staggered forward and stopped. The bluff fell
away sharply to a shoreline jagged with rocks. There were no
beaches anywhere and so sign of Tiger Ty.
Wren leaned heavily on the Staff, searching the sky. It
stretched away, a vast and empty expanse.
“Tiger Ty!” she whispered in despair.
Triss released her and moved away, searching the bluff.
“Down there,” he signaled after a moment, pointing north.
“There’s a beach, if we can get to it.”
But Stresa was already shaking his grizzled head. “Ssssstt!
We’ll have to go back through the woods, back into the smoke
and the things it hides. Not a smart idea with darkness coming.
Phffftt!”
Wren watched helplessly as the sun settled down against the
ocean’s edge and began to disappear. In minutes it would be
dark. They had come so far, she thought, and whispered, “No,”
so that only she could hear.
She laid down the Staff and slipped free the Elfstones. Hold-
ing them forth, she sent the white magic streaking across the
sky from end to end, a flare of brightness against the gray twi-
light. The light shimmered like fire and disappeared. They all
stood looking after it, watching the dark approach, watching the
sun paint the sky with color as it sank from view.
Behind them, the hunters began to gather, the demons come
down from the heights, the black things either tracking them or
drawn by the magic. Their shadows pushed against the edges of
the twilight, growling, snarling, edging steadily closer. Wren and
her companions were trapped on the bluff, caught against the
drop into the ocean. Wren felt the rattle of her bones, of her
breath, of her failing strength. It was too much to expect that
Tiger Ty would be there for them after all this time, too much
to hope for. Yet she refused to let go of the only hope left to
them. Once more she would use the magic, if need be. Once
more, for good measure. Because there wasn’t enough left in any
case to keep them alive another night. There was not enough
strength left in her to use it, not enough left in any of them to
matter.
Triss stepped out to confront the shadows in the trees, lean
and hard, broken arm hanging stiff, sword arm bent and ready.
“Keep behind me,” he ordered.
The seconds slipped quickly away. The colors in the western
sky faded into gray. Twilight deepened to a pale shade of ash.
“There!” Stresa warned.
Something launched itself out of the dark, a massive form,
hammering into Triss, throwing him down. Another rushed in
behind it, and Stresa showered it with quills. Wren swung the
Elfstones up and sent the magic streaking forth, burning the
things closest. They screamed and hastily withdrew. Triss lay
unconscious on the earth.
Wren sagged to her knees, exhausted.
“Sssttt stand up!” Stresa growled desperately.
A handful of misshapen forms detached themselves anew and
began to inch forward.
“Stand up!”
Then a shriek split the near silence, a sound like the tearing
out of a human life, and a huge shadow swept the bluff. Claws
raked the edges of the trees and sent the attackers scattering
into the dark. Wren stared upward in disbelief, speechless. Had
she seen . . . ? The shadow swung away, black wings knifelike
against the sky, and another shriek emitted from its throat.
“Spirit!” Wren screamed in recognition.
Back swung the Roc and plummeted to the bluff edge where
it settled with a mad beating of wings. A small, wiry form leapt
down, yelling and shouting wildly.
“Ho, this way, quick now! They won’t stay frightened long!”
Tiger Ty!
And when Wren pulled Triss to his feet and staggered for-
ward to meet the little man, she found the Tiger Ty she remem-
bered from all those weeks ago, wrinkled and smiling within his
brown skin, a scarecrow of bones and leather, rough hands ready
and bright eyes quick. He looked at her, at her companions, at
the Ruhk Staff she carried, and he laughed.
“Wren Elessedil,” he greeted. “You are as good as your word,