Tirfmg. Tiger Ty sat in front of her, straddling Spirit’s neck
where it joined the shoulders, just forward of the great wings.
Both Wing Rider and Elf Queen were strapped tightly to the
bird’s harness, securely fastened against the possibility of a
fall The sky was bright and cloudless, the sun’s light bathing
the land from horizon to horizon in melted gold. Below, where
the earth stretched away in a patchwork maze of green and
brown, it was hot and humid in the long, slow days of late
summer, and everything seemed to stand still. But here, high
above the heat, where the wind blew steady and cool, Wren
soared through space and time unchecked, and there was
within her that sense of escape that flight inevitably generated.
Her eyes opened and there was bitterness in her smile. Cer-
tainly she had spent enough time seeking escape in one form
or another to recognize the feeling, she thought.
It was ten days now since her return to the Pour Lands. The
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130 The Talismans of Shannara
nightmare of Morrowindl was behind her and beginning to
fade into the recesses of her memory. Her sleep was still
haunted by dreams of what had been—by the monsters that
had pursued the little company down Killeshan’s ruptured
mountain slopes to the beaches, by the faces of those who had
died in the attempt, by the fear and anguish she had felt, and
by the terrible sense of loss that she did not think would ever
leave her. She still woke from those dreams, shaking and cold
in spite of the summer heat, leaving her bed to walk alone
through the palace halls, a driven spirit. Even now
Morrowindl, gone back into the ocean in that fiery conflagra-
tion, whispered to her from out of the past, from out of its wa-
tery grave, its voice a constant reminder of how she had gotten
to where she was and what it had cost her.
But there was little time to dwell on what had been, for the
demands of the present overshadowed everything. She was
Queen of the Elves, entrusted with the safety and welfare of
her people. It was the charge that Ellenroh had given her; it
was the charge she had accepted. But not all those for whom
she had been given responsibility believed in her. It was not
easy convincing the Elves that she was the one who should
lead them. After the first rush of euphoria over finding them-
selves free of Morrowindl and returned once again to the West-
land faded, they began to question. Who was this barely grown
girl who had declared herself their queen—this girl who was
not even a pure-blooded Elf, but a mix of Elf and Man? Who
had decided that she should lead them, should govern them,
should make decisions that would affect their lives? It was
claimed that she was the granddaughter of Ellenroh, the daugh-
ter of Alleyne, a child of the Elessedils and the last of them
left to rule. But she was a stranger, too, come out of nowhere,
unknown and untested. Who was she, that she should be
queen?
Eton Shart and Barsimmon Oridio were among those who
continued to doubt—her first minister and the general of her
armies, men she could not afford to lose. They did not say so
to her face or even publicly, but their aloofness was obvious.
They had served Ellenroh long and faithfully, and they had not
expected to lose her. Worse, they had not expected to find
someone they barely knew assuming her place. Certainly not
The Talismans of Shannara 131
an outsider, and a girl at that. Wren understood their reticence;
she also understood that she could not permit it to continue un-
resolved.
Triss and the Home Guard were her real support. Triss had
come with her out of Morrowindl, had seen her struggle with
the power of the Elfstones, with the demons that pursued them,
and with the responsibility she had been given. He accepted
her as queen because he had been there when Ellenroh had
named her and had exacted his pledge of loyalty. Triss had
declared her queen to the High Council, to the army, and espe-