the fine, delicate features, the slim hands, the lean body con-
cealed beneath the loose-fitting clothing, the way he held
himself. He remembered how the boy had moved. None of it
seemed quite right for a boy. But for a girl …
He nodded slowly. “Many Roh,” he said, his surprise still
evident. “I thought you were a … that you were …”
The girl nodded. “That’s what you were supposed to think.”
Her hand did not move off the sword. “What do you want with
me?”
For a moment Morgan did not respond, still grappling with
the idea that he had mistaken a girl for a boy. Worse, that he
had let her make him look like such a fool. But you mustered
the defenses available to you when you lived in a place like
Wyvem Split. The girl was clever. He had to admit her dis-
guise was a good one.
He reached into his tunic pocket and drew forth the ring
with the hawk emblem and held it out. “Recognize this? ”
She took a quick look at the ring, and her hand tightened on
the sword. “Who are you? ” she asked.
“Morgan Leah,” he said. “We both know who gave me the
ring. He told me to come to you when I needed to find him.”
“I know who you are,” she declared. Her gaze stayed level,
appraising. “Do you still carry a broken sword, Morgan
Leah?”
An image of Quickening as she lay dying flashed in his
mind. “No,” he said quietly. “It was made whole again.” He
pushed back the pain the memory brought and forced himself
The Talismans of Shannara 87
to reach over his shoulder and touch the sword’s hilt. “Do you
want to have a look?”
She shook her head no. “I’m sorry I gave you such a bad
time. But it’s difficult to know who to trust. The Federation
has spies everywhere—Seekers more often than not.”
She picked up her own sword and slipped it back under the
counter. For a moment she didn’t appear to know what to do
next. Then she said, “Would you like something to eat? ”
He said he would, and she took him through the swinging
doors in back into a kitchen where she seated him at a small
table, scooped some stew into a serving bowl from a kettle
hung over a cooking fire in the hearth, cut off several slices of
bread, poured ale into a mug, and brought it all over to where
he waited. He ate and drank eagerly, hungrier than he had been
in days. There were wildflowers in a vase on the table, and he
touched them experimentally. She watched him in silence, the
same serious expression on her face, studying him with that
frank, curious gaze. The kitchen was surprisingly cool, with a
breeze blowing in through the open back door and venting up
the chimney of the fireplace. Sounds from the streets continued
to drift in, but the Highlander and the girl ignored them.
“It took you a long time to get here,” she said when he had
finished his meal. She carried his dishes to a sink and began
to wash them. “He expected you sooner than this.”
“Where is he now? ” Morgan asked. They were taking great
pains to avoid saying Padishar Creel’s name—as if mention of
it might alert the Federation spies set at watch.
“Where did he say he would be? ” she countered.
Still testing, Morgan thought. “At Firerim Reach. Tell me
something. You’re being pretty careful about me. How am I
supposed to know I can trust you? How do I know you really
are Many Roh? ”
She finished with’ the dishes, set them to dry on the counter,
and turned to face him. “You don’t. But you came looking for
me. I didn’t come looking for you. So you have to take your
chances.”
He rose. ‘That’s not very reassuring.”
She shrugged. “It isn’t meant to be. It isn’t my job to reas-
sure you. It’s my job to make sure you’re who you say you
are.”
§8 The Talismans of Shannara
“And are you sure? “