The Elf Queen of Shannara

Garth smiled faintly at the implication that she had missed anything. His response was quick. She is frightened.

“Frightened?” Wren had indeed missed that. “What do you think frightens her?”

Difficult to say. Something that she knows and we don’t, I would guess. She is very careful with what she says and how she says it. You saw as much.

He paused. She may be frightened for you, Wren.

“Because my mother was killed by coming back here, and now I am at risk as well? But I was supposed to return according to Eowen’s vision. They have been expecting me. And what do you make of this vision anyway? How am I supposed to save the Elves, Garth? Doesn’t that seem silly to you? After all, it was all we could do just to stay alive long enough to reach the city. I don’t see what difference my being here can make.”

Garth shrugged. Keep your eyes and ears open, Rover girl. That’s how you learn things.

He smiled, and Wren smiled in return.

He left her then so that she could dress. As he closed the door separating their rooms, she stood staring after him for a moment. It occurred to her suddenly that there were enormous inconsistencies in the stories told by her grandmother and Garth concerning her parents. Admittedly, Garth’s version was secondhand and the queen’s based entirely on events that had taken place before the departure from Arborlon, so perhaps inconsistencies were to be expected. Still, neither had commented on what each must have viewed as the other’s obvious mistakes. There was no mention of Wing Riders by Garth. There was no mention of Rovers by the queen. There was nothing from either about why her parents had not traveled first to Shady Vale and the Ohmsfords but had gone instead to the Westland.

She wondered if she should say anything about it to Garth. Given the importance of her other concerns, she wondered if this one really mattered.

She found clothing set out for her to wear, garments that fit better than Garth’s—pants, a tunic, stockings, a belt, and a pair of fine-worked leather ankle boots. She slipped the clothing on, going over in her mind as she did so the revelations of the night before, considering anew what she had learned. The queen seemed decided on the importance of Wren’s arrival in Arborlon, certain in her own mind at least that Eowen’s vision would prove accurate. Aurin Striate, too, had mentioned that they had been waiting for her. Yet no one bad said why, if, in fact, anyone knew. There hadn’t been any mention in the dream of what it was that Wren’s presence was supposed to accomplish. Maybe it would take another vision to find out.

She grinned at her own impudence and was pulling on her boots when the grin abruptly faded.

What if the importance of her return was that she carried with her the Elfstones? What if she was expected to use the Stones as a weapon against the demons?

She went cold with the thought, remembering anew how she had been forced to use them twice now despite her reluctance to do so, remembering the feeling of power as the magic coursed through her, liquid fire that burned and exhilarated at the same time. She was aware of their addictive effect on her, of the bonding that took place each time they were employed, and of how they seemed so much a part of her. She kept saying she would not use them, then found herself forced to do so anyway—or persuaded, perhaps. She shook her head. The choice of words didn’t matter; the results were the same. Each time she used the magic, she drifted a little farther from who and what she was and a little closer to being someone she didn’t know. She lost power over herself by using the power of the magic.

She jammed her feet into the boots and stood up. Her thinking was wrong. It couldn’t be the Elfstones that were important. Otherwise, why hadn’t Ellenroh simply kept them here instead of giving them to Alleyne? Why hadn’t the Stones been used against the demons long ago if they could really make a difference?

She hesitated, then reached over to her sleeping gown and extracted the Elfstones from the pocket in which she had placed them the night before. They lay glittering in her hand, their magic dormant, harmless, and invisible. She studied them intently, wondering at the circumstances that had placed them in her care, wishing anew that Ellenroh had agreed last night to take them back.