luminous yellow eyes of a moor cat blinked down at him.
“Easy, Highlander,” a familiar voice whispered in his ear,
soft and reassuring. “You’re safe. It’s only me.”
The hand eased away, and Morgan began breathing again,
quick and uneven. He felt the knots in his body loosen and the
chill in his stomach fade. “Quiet, now,” the voice whispered.
“They’re still close.”
Then the cat face eased away, and he was looking at Walker
Boh.
XXXI
Stresa did not come to Wren Elessedil until it was almost
dawn. Stars still lingered in the velvet black skies, and
the forest was thick with shadows. Only a faint brighten-
ing east through the trees revealed the approach of the new
day. She rose when he appeared, anxious and relieved. She had
been waiting for him all night, even though it could easily
have taken him another day to reach her. Her Elven hearing
picked up his movements before he emerged from the dark,
and she called out to him.
“Stresa,” she whispered. “Over here.”
He trundled forward obediently, spikes laid back against his
muscular body, snout lifted to test the air, eyes glittering like
candles.
“I can see you well enough. Elf Queen,” the Splinter-scat
muttered as he came up to her. “And hear you well enough,
too.”
Wren smiled at the sound of the familiar voice. It had not
been three days ago mat she thought she would never hear it
again. Her ordeal with Tib Ame and Gloon had given her a
new appreciation for the things she had once been too quick to
take for granted. It was strange how death’s whisper suddenly
made you hear better. She wondered how many times she
would need to listen to it before she remembered its lesson.
“What did you find? ” she asked him, dropping into a
crouch so that she could better see his face.
Stresa sniffed. “A way in for them and one out for us.
Phfrftt. It can be done.” He glanced around. “Where’s the
sstttpp Squeak? ”
363
364 The Talismans of Shannara
She gestured. “Watching east, where the others wait. I didn’t
want anyone to hear what we said. Funny how much better she
and I have become at communicating.”
The Splinterscat’s spines rose and fell back again. “That is
hardly an accomplishment. Squeaks haven’t much to say.
Hsssttt. Keep your conversation brief. Elf Queen.”
Wren refrained from smiling. No point in encouraging him.
“So we can do this, you and. I? ”
“This isn’t Morrowindl, and the Brakes aren’t the In Ju. Of
course we can do it. Sppptt!” He spit. “Should have thought of
the idea myself.”
Barely three days gone since her escape from the Shadowen,
and Wren was about to challenge them again. She had flown
into camp with Tiger Ty and been greeted with elation and as-
tonishment by the Elves of the advance guard, who had given
her up for lost. They were settled still within the fringes of
Drey Wood, watchingthe continuing advance of the Federation
army, shadowing the Southlanders from cover while they
awaited Barsimmon Oridio and the balance of the Elven army.
Desidio was effusive in his welcome, telling her straight out
that the Elves needed her leadership and he was hers to com-
mand, saying more in that single moment than he had said the
entire time they had been gone from Arborlon. Triss was furi-
ous with her, pointing out that her impulsiveness had caused
her abduction, warning her that she was not to go off without
the Home Guard ever, that in fact she was not to go off with-
out him personally. She greeted them both with a handclasp
and assurances that she would not take such a risk again—
already knowing that she intended to do so.
In her absence, the advance guard had been busy. Desidio
and Triss had put aside any differences on strategy to continue
what she had begun so successfully, sending a second raiding
party at the Federation the very night after she was taken, set-
ting fire to supplies and wagons, driving off stock, harassing
sleeping troops, doing everything they could think of to cause
their enemies discomfort and confusion and to keep them froffi