It was as if he had read her mind, but that was the way it
was between them, the way it had been since Morrowindl.
^1 can’t let the Elves lose,” she whispered.
“You can’t help them win if you lose yourself either.” He
put his hand over hers. “Put them away. Dusk approaches. We
may be able to hang on until then.”
He did not mention what would happen when tomorrow ar-
rived and the Federation juggernaut came at them again, but
396 The Talismans of Shannara
she knew that there was no point in dwelling on it. She did as
he suggested. She slipped the Elfstones away again.
Below, the fighting had intensified. In places, the Federation
soldiers were breaking through the Elven lines.
“I need to send Home Guard to help them,” Triss said
quickly, already moving away. “Wait here for me.” He called
to the knot of Home Guard surrounding her to keep the queen
safe, and moved quickly down the slope and out of view.
Wren stood staring down at the carnage. She was alone now
with Faun and eight protectors. Alone on an island of calm
while all about the seas raged. She hated what she was seeing.
She hated that it was happening. If she survived this, she
swore, she would spend what remained of her life working to
revive the Elven tradition of healing, carrying the tenants of
that skill back into the Four Lands to the other Races.
Faun stirred on her shoulder, nuzzling her cheek. “There,
there, little one,” she whispered soothingly. “It’s all right.”
The valley was awash with men surging back and forth
along the slopes and down the draw, and the sound of the
fighting had grown louder with its approach. She glanced at
the sky west in search of the darkness that would bring the bat-
tle to a close, but it was still too far removed and distant to
give hope. The Elves would not last until, then, she thought
bleakly. They would not survive.
“We’ve come so far to lose now,” she murmured to hersel*’,
so low that only Faun could hear. The Tree Squeak cluttered
softly. “It’s not fair. It’s not …”
Then Faun shrieked in warning, and she wheeled about to
find a wave of black-cloaked Seekers breaking from cover be
hind her, emerging from the trees where the shadows and mist
cast their deepest gloom. The Seekers came swiftly, purpose-
fully toward her, weapons glinting wickedly in me half-light,
wolf’s-head insignias gleaming on their breasts. The Home
Guard rushed to defend her, springing to intercept the attack
ers. But the Seekers were quick and merciless, cutting dov/n
the Elves almost as quickly as they reached them. Cries ct
warning rang out, shouts for help to those below, but the
sounds of battle drowned them out completely.
Wren panicked. Six of the Home Guard were down and thr
last two were on the verge of falling. The Seekers must ha\ e
The Talismans of Shannara 397
worked their way past the scouts and into the deep forest to
reach her. She was surrounded on three sides and the circle
was closing Once they had her trapped, there was no question
as to what would happen. They had lost her once. They would
not risk it again.
She turned to run, tripped, stumbled, and fell. The Seekers
had killed the last of the Home Guard and were coming for
her. She was all alone now. Faun sprang clear of her shoulder,
hissing. She reached into her tunic for the bag that contained
the Elfstones, her fingers closing on it, dragging it free, lifting
it up. Everything took so long. She tried to breathe and found
her throat frozen shut. Blades lifted before her, sweeping up as
the Seekers came for her. She scrambled backward through the
long grass as she fought to free the Elfstones from the bag. No!
No! She couldn’t move fast enough. She was cast in molten
ore and cooling to iron. She was paralyzed. Red eyes gleamed
within the hoods of the attackers who were nearest. How could
they have slipped through? How could this have happened?
Her hands tore apart the drawstrings, frantic, wild, dig-