HS 3 – The Elf Queen of Shannara by Brooks, Terry

their families, and were happy. Everything worked out the

way they thought it would at first. Then about twenty years

ago, they started having trouble. It was hard to tell what the

problem was; they wouldn’t discuss it with us. We only saw

them now and again, you see. Still didn’t mix much, even after

we’d migrated out, too. Anyway, everything on Morrowindl be-

gan to change. It started with Killeshan, the volcano. Dormant

for hundreds of years and suddenly it came awake again. Started

smoking, spitting, erupted once or twice. Clouds of vog-you

know, volcanic ash-started filling the skies. The air, the land,

the water about-it was all different.” He paused, a hard look

darkening his face. “They changed, too-the Land Elves.

Wouldn’t admit it, but we saw that something was different. You

could see it in the way they behaved when we were about-

guarded, secretive about everything. Armed to the teeth every-

where they went. And strange creatures began appearing on the

island, monstrous things, things that had never been there be-

fore. Just appeared, just out of nothing. And the land began to

grow sick, changing like everything else.”

He sighed. “The Land Elves began to die off then, a few at

a time, more after a while. They had lived all over the island

once; they quit doing that and moved into their city, all jammed

together like rats in a sinking ship. They built fortifications and

reinforced them with magic. Old magic, you know, brought

back out of time and the old ways. Sky Elves want nothing to

do with it, but we’ve never used the magic anyway like them.”

He sat back. “Ten years ago, they disappeared completely.”

Wren started. “Disappeared?”

“Vanished. Still on Morrowindl, mind. But gone. Island was

a mass of ash and mist and steamy heat by then, of course.

Changed so completely it might have been a different place

entirely.” He tightened his frown. “We couldn’t get in to find

out what had happened. Sent half a dozen Wing Riders. Not a

one came back. Not even the birds. And no one came out. No

one, Miss Wren. Not in all that time.”

Wren was silent for a moment, thinking. The sun was up

now, warm light cascading down from atop the Irrybis, the

cloudless morning sky bright and friendly. Spirit remained

perched on the cliff edge, oblivious to them. The Roc was a

statue frozen in place. Only his sharp, searching eyes registered

life.

“So if there are any Elves left,” Wren said finally, “any Land

Elves, that is, they’re still on Morrowindl somewhere. You’re

sure about that, Tiger Ty?”

The Wing Rider shrugged. “Sure as I can be. I suppose they

could have disappeared to somewhere else, but it’s odd that they

didn’t get word to us.”

Wren took a deep breath. “Can you take us to Morrowindl?”

she asked.

It was an impulsive request, born out of a fierce and quixotic

determination to discover a truth that was apparently hidden

not only from herself but from everyone else as well. She rec

ognized how selfish she was being. She had not even considered

asking Garth for his thoughts; she had not even bothered to

remember how badly he had been injured in their fight with

the Shadowen. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him now.

She kept her eyes fastened on Tiger Ty.

There was no mistaking what he thought of the idea. The

little man scowled fiercely. “I could take you to Morrowindl,” he

said. “But I won’t.”

“I have to know if there are any Elves left,” she insisted,

trying to keep her voice level. Now she risked a quick glance

at Garth. The big Rover’s face registered nothing of what he

was thinking. “I have to discover if they can be brought back

into the world of Men. It was Allanon’s charge to me, and I

guess I believe it important enough to carry it out.”

“Allanon, again!” Tiger Ty snapped irritably. “You’d risk your

life on the word of a shade? Do you have any idea what Mor-

rowindl is like? No, of course you don’t! Why do I even ask?

You didn’t hear a word I said, did you? You think you can just

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