for that’matter, had become of the others he had gathered at the
Hadeshom to speak with the shade of Allanon. She experienced
a vague sense of regret that she knew so little of their fates. She
should be searching for them, seeking them out and telling them
the truth about the Shadowen origins. It was important that they
know, she sensed. Something about who and what the
Shadowen were would lead to their destruction. Allanon had
known as much, she believed. But if he had known, why hadn’t
he simply told them? She shook her head. It was more complex
than that; it had to be. But wasn’t everything in this struggle?
They reached the vanguard camp, settled several miles
north, dismounted, and handed over their horses. Wren strode
away from the others, still without speaking, took food from a
table not because she was hungry but because she knew she
must eat, and sat alone at one end of a bench and stared off
into the trees. The answers were out there somewhere, she told
herself. She kept thinking that they were tied to the past, that
history repeats, that you leam from what has gone before.
Morrowindl’s lessons paraded themselves before her eyes in
the form of dead faces and brief images of unending sacrifice.
So much had been given up to get the Elves safely away from
that deathtrap; it could not have been simply for this. It had to
have been for something more than dying here instead of there.
She wished suddenly for Garth. She missed his steadying
presence, the way he could take any problem and make it seem
solvable. No matter how dark things had gotten. Garth had al-
ways gone on, taking her with him when she was little, letting
her lead when she was grown. She missed him so. Tears came
to her eyes, and she brushed them away self-consciously. She
would not cry for him again. She had promised she would not.
She rose and carried her plate back to the table, looking about
for Erring Rift. She would fly south again, she decided, for an-
other look at the Creepers. There had to be a way to stop or at
least slow them. Maybe something would suggest itself. It was
308 The Talismans of Shannaru
a faint hope, but it was all she had. She wished Tiger Ty was
there; he provided some of the same steadiness that she had got-
ten from Garth. But the gnarled Wing Rider had not returned
from his search for the free-bom, and bringing the free-born 10
the aid of the Elves was more important than providing solace
for her.
She caught sight of Rift and whistled him over.
“We’re going up for another look at the Creepers,” she an-
nounced, keeping her gaze steady as she faced him. His bearded
face clouded. “I need to do this. Don’t argue with me.”
Rift shook his head. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he muttered
“My lady.”
She took his arm and walked him through the camp. “We
won’t stay out long. Let’s just see where they are, all right? ”
Obsidian eyes glanced over and away again. “They’re too
confounded close, is where they are. We both know that al-
ready.” He rubbed at his beard. “There’s no mystery to this
We have to stop them. You don’t happen to have a plan for
doing that, do you?”
She gave him a faint smile. “You’ll be the first to know.”
They were moving toward the clearing where the Rocs were
settled when Tib Arne came running up, breathless and
flushed.
“My lady! My lady! Are you flying one of the great birds?
Take me with you this time, please? You said you would, my
lady. The next time you went out, you said you would. Please?
I’m tired of sitting about doing nothing.”
She turned to face him. Tib,” she began.
“Please? ” he begged, coming to a ragged stop in front of
her. He brushed back his shock of blond hair. His blue eyes
sparkled with anticipation. “I won’t be any trouble.”
She glanced at Rift, who gave her a black look of warning.
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