Talismans of Shannara by Terry Brooks

across the plains, speeding away from the Westland forests, the

Creepers, the Federation army, and the Elves. She watched ev-

erything disappear gradually into the sunset and then into shad-

ows, mght descending in a hazy, gray light. They flew into

darkness, following the line of the Mermidon into Callahom,

past Kern and Tyrsis, down through the grasslands south.

Midnight came, and they descended to a darkened flat on

which a wagon and horsemen waited. How they had come to be

there. Wren didn’t know. The men were black-cloaked and bore

the wolf’s-head insignia of Seekers. There were eight, all dark

and voiceless within their garb, wraiths in the silence of the

night. They looked as if they had been expecting Tib Ame and

Gloon. Tib gave the pouch with the Elfstones to one, and two

others lifted her from Gloon and placed her inside the wagon.

No words were spoken. Wren twisted about in an effort to see,

but the canvas flaps had already been drawn and secured.

Lying in blackness and silence, she heard the sound of

Gloon’s wings as he rose back into the air. Then the wagon gave

a lurch and started forward. Wheels creaked, traces jangled, and

horses’ hooves clumped in steady rhythm through the night.

She was on her way to Southwatch and Rimmer Dall, she

knew, and felt as if a great hole had opened in the earth to

swallow her.

XXVII

^^•t was nearing dawn when Morgan Lean saw the wagon

I and nders come out of the grasslands west, slowing to

W begin the climb into the hills that led to Southwatch. He

stood on the bluff south, his watch post for three days pas*^

now, staring out across the awakening land. Stars and moon

were fading in a cloudless night sky, but the hills were thick;

with patches of mist that clung to the hollows and draws. The

earth was a repository for predawn shadows melting into the

gray of the disappearing night, still and lifeless husks that

would be swallowed whole when morning arrived.

Except, of course, for the wagon and the horsemen, shadows

of substance whose movements stood out against the froze”

dark. Morgan watched them silently, motionlessly, as if any

sound or movement on his part might cause them to vanish in

the haze. They were still a fair distance away, nearly lost in the

gloom, shimmering like dark ghosts against the night.

They were the first sign of life he had seen since he had be-

gun his vigil. They were, he knew instantly, what he had beer-

waiting for.

Three days gone, and no one had gone into or come out of

Southwatch. No one had even gone near. The land might have

been devoid of life but for a handful of birds that sped in and

out of view with single-minded concentration. There had been

skiffs upon the Mennidon and the Rainbow Lake, but all had

passed south, well clear of the Shadowen citadel, well away

from any contact. Morgan had watched long and carefully for

signs of life within the obelisk, but there had been none. He

had slept in snatches, staying awake a portion of the day and

318

The Talismans of Shannara 319

nieht both so that he could minimize the chance that some-

thing might get by him. He had watched and waited, and noth-

ing had appeared.

But now there was a wagon and horsemen, and he was

certain already that they were bound for Southwatch.

He studied them further and knew as well that they were

Seekers. He could tell from the black cloaks and hoods, from

the way they held themselves, and from the dark secrecy of

their approach. They came in stealth and under cover of night,

and whatever they were about they did not want it known.

There were six riders, four in front and two behind, and there

were at least two drivers. In the odd hush of night’s leaving,

they were a whisper across the empty land, creeping in and out

of the haze and shadows, inching toward the coming light.

He took a deep breath. They were, he repeated, what he had

been waiting for. He did not know why. He did not understand

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