His frown deepened. “It means that there’s something about
all this that bothers me. Don’t you think this boy is an odd
choice for the job of carrying word to us about the free-born? ”
She stared at him wordlessly for a moment, considering.
“He’s young, yes. But he would be less likely to be noticed
because of it. And he seems confident enough about himself.”
She paused. “You don’t trust him. Tiger Ty? ”
“I’m not saying that.” The other’s brows knitted fiercely. “I
just think we ought to be careful.”
She nodded, knowing better than to dismiss Tiger Ty’s sus-
picion out of hand. ‘Triss? ”
The Captain of the Home Guard was tugging at the bindings
on his broken arm. The sling had come off yesterday before
the attack, and all that remained was a pair of narrow splints
laced about his forearm.
He did not glance up as he tightened a loosening knot. “I
think Tiger Ty is right. It doesn’t hurt to be careful.”
She folded her arms. “All right. Assign someone to keep an
208 The Talismans of Shannara
eye on him.” She turned to Tiger Ty. “I have something impor-
tant I want you to do. I want you to pick up where Tib left off.
Take Spirit and fly east. See if you can find the free-born and
lead them here, just in case they’re having trouble reaching us.
It may take you several days, and you’ll have to track them
without much help from us. I don’t have any idea where to tell
you to start, but if there are five thousand of them they
shouldn’t be hard to find.”
Tiger Ty frowned anew. “I don’t like leaving you. Send
someone else.”
She shook her head. “No, it has to be you. I can trust you
to make certain the search is successful. Don’t worry about
me. Triss and the Home Guard will keep me safe. I’ll be fine.”
The gnarled Wing Rider shook his head. “I don’t like it, but
I’ll go if you tell me to.”
On the chance that he might encounter Par or Coil
Ohmsford or Walker Boh or even Morgan Leah in his travels,
she gave him a brief description of each and a means by which
he could be certain who they were. When she had finished, she
gave him her hand and wished him well.
“Be careful, Wren of the Elves,” he cautioned gruffly, keep-
ing her hand firmly tucked in his own for a moment. “The
dangers of this world are not so different from Morrowindl’s.”
She smiled, nodded, and he was gone. She watched him
gather a pack of stores and blankets together, strap them atop
Spirit, board, and wing off into the gray. She stared skyward
for a long time after he was lost from sight. The clouds were
turning darker. It would be raining by nightfall.
We’ll need better shelter, she thought. We’ll need to move.
“Call Desidio over,” she ordered Triss.
A heavy enough rain would mire the whole of the grass-
lands on which the Federation camped. It was too much to
hope for, but she couldn’t help herself.
Just give us a week, she begged, eyes fixed on the roiling
gray. Just a week.
The first drop of rain splashed on her face.
The Elven vanguard assembled, packed up, and moved back
into the heavy trees within Drey Wood, there to wait for the
storm to pass. It began to rain more heavily as the day edged
The Talismans of Shannara 209
toward nightfall, and by dusk it was pouring. The Wing Riders
had tethered their Rocs apart from the horses, and the men had
stretched canvas sheets between trees to keep themselves and
their stores dry. The patrols had come in, returned from every-
where but Arborlon, with word that nothing was approaching
from any direction and there was no sign of any other Feder-
ation force.
They ate a hot meal, the smoke concealed by the downpour,
and retired to sleep. Wren was preoccupied with dozens of
possibilities of what might happen next and thought she would
be awake for hours, but she fell asleep almost instantly, her last