grasses.
“How much farther? ” Wren asked after a moment.
The Talismans of Shannara 133
Tiger Ty shrugged. “Another hour at most. They were trav-
eling pretty fast when I spotted them.”
A Federation army, sighted by the patrolling Wing Rider,
had brought Wren out of Arborlon in spite of the objections of
Triss and the Home Guard. It was necessary, she felt, to have
a close look at the enemy before she brought her plan of action
before the High Council and its skeptics.
She took a final drink from her cup, finishing the last of the
ale. If things had been difficult up to now, she had a feeling
that they were about to get a whole lot worse.
They climbed back aboard Spirit, fastened themselves in
place, and lifted off into the dazzling blue. Faun was inside her
tunic, snuggled down comfortably against her body. Spirit
gained height, then settled into a flat glide that swept them
down the snaking length of the Mermidon to where it bypassed
the Shroudslip. There they left the river and began to follow
the line of the Irrybis where it bordered the Tirfing east. Time
slipped quickly past, and it seemed only moments later that Ti-
ger Ty lifted one arm to point south.
A huge column of dust rose into the swelter of summer heat
that hung over the plains. Tiger Ty glanced back at her and she
nodded.
The Federation army.
They continued due south, following a line parallel to the
army, keeping in the shadow of the cliffs. Tiger Ty would cir-
cle back around and come in from behind the army with the
sun at his back. That way they would not be seen. As yet, no
one knew anything about the Wing Riders. Wren had decided
it would be better if things remained that way.
Swiftly they sped south, and when the column of dust was
well behind them they banked left across the plains. They con-
tinued to circle until the sun was directly behind them, then
swung back toward the dust. They rose higher than before, try-
ing to place as much glare as possible at their backs in case
anyone was scanning the sky.
Minutes later, the Federation army came in sight.
It was a huge, sprawling, dark stain against the sun-scorched
grasslands, three companies deep, column after column of
black-and-red-garbed soldiers and horsemen, great iron-and-
wood fighting machines, siege equipment, wagons and sup-
234 The Talismans of Shannara
plies. The army seemed to stretch on forever, the dust of its
wake obscuring everything for miles. Wren felt her heart sink
at the size of the enemy. The Elves could barely muster a tenth
of the fighting men the Federation had assembled, and it was
reported that there were another five thousand soldiers garri-
soned in Tyrsis. If they were forced to confront this army head
on, the Elves would be annihilated.
Which was the general idea, of course, she thought discon-
solately.
She counted lines and columns and companies carefully as
Tiger Ty took Spirit close to the back of the army and then
banked the Roc sharply away again, heading south once more,
still within the protective glare of the sun. There had been no
shouts or pointed arms from below. Apparently they had not
been seen.
It took them most of the remainder of the day to make the
return flight, and Wren used the time to think about what she
would say to the High Council that night. She found herself
thinking that it would be nice if she could just keep on flying,
traveling to a place so far away that the Federation would
never find her. But there was no such place, of course. For
even if the Federation couldn’t reach her, the Shadowen could.
They had proved that on Morrowindl. The Shadowen sickness
was everywhere, and no one would be safe again until a cure
was found.
It was nearing sunset when Arborlon, the home city of the
Elves, came in sight again, a shading of wood colors, metal
stays, and spots of bright clothing amid the green. Spirit swung
wide above the Rill Song, the river’s blue waters turned