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

swam in groups called schools and leapt from the water in for-

mation, silver bodies arcing against the sun. The journey be-

came an incredible learning experience for Wren, and she

immersed herself in its lessons.

“I have never seen anything like this!” she shouted enthusi-

astically at Tiger Ty.

“Wait until we reach Morrowindl,” he grunted back.

THEY DESCENDED A SECOND TIME for a brief rest at midafter-

noon, choosing a solitary island with wide, white-sand beaches

and coves so shallow the water was a pale turquoise. Wren no-

ticed that Spirit had not eaten all day and asked about it. Tiger

Ty said the Roc consumed meat and hunted on its own. It re-

quired food only once every seven days.

“A very self-sustaining bird, the Roc,” the Wing Rider said

with undisguised admiration. “Doesn’t ask much more than to

be left alone. More than you can say about most people.”

They continued their journey in silence, both Wren and

Garth beginning to tire now, stiff from sitting in the same po-

sition all day, worn from the constant rocking motion of the

flight, and from gripping the knotted hand restraints until their

fingers cramped. The waters of the Blue Divide passed steadily

beneath, an endless progression of waves. They had been out of

sight of the mainland for hours, and the ocean seemed to stretch

away forever. Wren felt dwarfed by it, reduced by its size to

something so insignificant she threatened to disappear. Her ear-

lier sense of isolation had increased steadily with the passing of

the hours, and she found herself wondering for the first time if

she would ever see her home again.

It was nearing sunset when at last they came in sight of

Morrowindl. The sun had drifted west to the edge of the hori-

zon, its light growing soft, changing from white to pale orange.

A streaking of purple and silver laced a long line of odd-shaped

clouds that paraded across the sky like strange animals. Silhou-

etted against this panorama was the island, dark and misted and

forbidding. It was much larger than any other landmass they

had encountered, rising up like a wall as they approached. Kil-

leshan lifted its jagged mouth skyward, steam seeping from its

throat, slopes dropping away into a thick blanket of fog and ash,

disappearing for hundreds of feet until they surfaced again at a

shoreline formed of rocky projections and ragged cliffs. Waves

crashed against the rocks, white foaming caldrons that threw

their spray skyward.

Spirit flew closer, winging down toward the shroud of vog.

A stench filled the air, the smell of sulfur escaped from beneath

the earth where the volcano’s fire burned rock to ash. Through

the clouds and mist they could see valleys and ridges, passes and

defiles, all heavily forested, a thick, strangling jungle. Tiger Ty

glanced back over his shoulder and gestured. They were going

to circle the island. Spirit wheeled right at his command. The

north end of the island was engulfed in driving rain, a monsoon

that inundated everything, creating vast waterfalls that tumbled

down cliffs thousands of feet high. West the island was as barren

as a desert, all exposed lava rock except for a scattering of

brightly flowering shrubs and stunted, gnarled, wind-blown trees.

South and east the island was a mass of singular rock formations

and black-sand beaches where the shoreline met the waters of

the Blue Divide before rising to disappear into jungle and mist.

Wren stared down at Morrowindl apprehensively. It was a

forbidding, inhospitable place, a sharp contrast to the other is-

lands they had seen. Weather fronts collided and broke apart.

Each side of the island offered a different set of conditions. The

whole of it was shadowed and clouded, as if Killeshan were a

demon that breathed fire and had wrapped itself in the cloak of

its own choking breath.

Tiger Ty wheeled Spirit about one final time, then took him

down. The Roc settled cautiously at the edge of a broad, black-

sand beach, claws digging into the crushed lava rock, wings

folding reluctantly back. The giant bird turned to face the jun-

gle, and his piercing eyes fixed on the mist.

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