on, sunlight glinting off their armor, dust rising from their
heavy tread.
The Wisteron, she was thinking. Sunk into the earth.
She blinked. There was something there for her, she real-
ized. Something useful …
Then she heard a familiar, low whistle, and started to turn.
Tib Ame appeared next to her, blond-haired and blue-eyed,
smiling and excited. He came up with a laugh and pointed out
toward the plains. “Look.”
She stared out into the swelter, seeing nothing.
Beside her. Erring Rift grunted sharply and lurched forward.
Behind, there was a heavy clump, as if a tree had fallen, and
a shriek that froze her blood.
She turned, something slammed against her head, and every-
thing went black.
Far to the east, the Dragon’s Teeth had begun already to cast
their shadows with the failing of the late afternoon light. Tiger
Ty rode Spirit on a slow, steady wind that bore them north
across the tallest of the peaks toward the parched and scorch-
The Talismans of Shannara 311
ing plains. The Wing Rider’s day had been fruitless—the same
as every day since he had set out in search of the free-bom.
From dawn to dusk he scoured the land for an indication of the
promised army and found nothing. There were Federation pa-
trols everywhere, some of considerable size, like the one
blocking the pass at the south end of the mountains. He had
left Spirit long enough to visit with people on the road, asking
for news, learning of a prison break in a city called Tyrsis,
where the leader of the free-bom, Padishar Creel, had been
held for execution until his followers managed to free him. It
was quite an accomplishment, and everyone was talking about
it. But no one seemed to know where he was now or where
any of the free-bom were, for that matter.
Or at least they weren’t saying.
The fact that Tiger Ty was an Elf and knew almost nothing
of the Four Lands didn’t help matters. Constricted by his igno-
rance, he was reduced to searching blindly. He had managed to
discover that the outlaws had probably gone to ground in the
mountains he now sailed across, but the peaks were vast and
filled with places to hide, and he might spend fifty years look-
ing and never find anyone.
In point of fact, he was beginning to think that it was hope-
less. But he had given his promise to Wren that he would find
the free-bom, and he was no less determined than she had been
when she had flown to Morrowindl in search of the Elves.
He stared down at the empty, blasted rock, his leathery face
furrowed and dark. It all looked the same; there was nothing to
see. As the mountains spread farther north, he banked Spirit
left, tracking their line yet again. He had made this same
sweep twice now, taking a slightly different tack each time so
as to cover a fresh stretch of the vast range, knowing even as
he did that there were still hundreds of places he was missing.
His body knotted with frustration and weariness. If there
was a free-bom army out there, why was it so confounded
hard to find?
He thought momentarily of Wren and the Land Elves, and he
wondered if the Federation army had recovered sufficiently to
continue its pursuit. He smiled, remembering the night attack.
The girl was something, all right. She was all grit and hard
edges. Barely grown, and already a leader. The Land Elves, he
The Talismans of Shannara
thought, would go exactly as far as they would allow her to take
them. If they didn’t listen to her, they were foolish beyond—
A flash of light from the rocks below disrupted his train of
thought. He stared downward intently. The flash came again,
quick and certain. A signal, sure enough. But from who? Tiger
Ty nudged Spirit, spiraling outward so that he could study bet-
ter what they were flying toward. The flash came a third and
fourth time, and then stopped, as if whoever had given it was
satisfied that it had been seen. The source of the signal was a