The Elves of Cintra (Book 2 of The Genesis of Shannara)

A white lie at best, a misplaced hope at worst. The man gave him a doubtful look and said, “He better. If he doesn’t, I’ll shoot him.”


He took them down off the rise through the trees and into the camp. They passed other guards on the way, men and women of all ages, a ragtag bunch if ever Hawk had seen one. A few were big and tough looking, hardened veterans with obvious experience, but most were something less. It looked like whoever could still walk and was over the age of eighteen had been pressed into service. Those placed in their care were much younger. They were playing games and reading stories and completing small tasks to occupy their time. Older children supervised the younger. Everyone was behaving. Everything looked well ordered and thoroughly organized.

The guard brought them through the camp and across the field to one of the tents. A small cluster of men and women were gathered around a makeshift table that had maps spread out on it, most of them worn and heavily marked. A small, slight woman with short-cropped blond hair and quick energetic movements was speaking.

“…patrols along both banks, and let’s keep a close watch on that bridge, Allen. Those militia boys may want to play rough, and we want to be ready if they do. We don’t want to encourage them by looking unprepared. All right. Now, the woods are ringed with sentries all the way along the tree line and back to…”

She stopped and looked up as the guard approached with Hawk, Tessa, and Cheney in tow. She gave the wolfish dog a long, hard look before saying, “

What is it, Daniel?”

The guard looked flustered. “I found these three on the bluff. The boy says he came here to guide us. I thought maybe you should speak to him.”

The woman studied Hawk a moment, as if trying to make up her mind about him. She straightened up from the table over which she was bent, ran her fingers through her disheveled hair, and put her hands on her hips.

Hawk could feel her taking his measure, looking hard at this lean, not particularly interesting, dark-haired boy standing in front of her and trying to decide if he was worth her time.

Then she looked at those gathered around her and said, “Give us a moment to talk, please.”

Her companions moved away, some reluctantly. One or two stayed close enough that they could still protect her if it proved necessary.

The woman herself did not seem concerned. She was the leader, Hawk decided, even though she didn’t look the part. The men were bigger and stronger and might even know more about fighting, but she was the one whose judgment they had learned to trust.

“I’m Helen Rice,” she told them, and she held out her hand for each of them to shake.

They did so, giving their names and Cheney’s, in turn. But Hawk did not recite the litany of the Ghosts. It would be hard enough getting her to listen to him as things stood.

“Someone sent you to guide us?” Helen Rice asked him.

He nodded. “I think so.”

“You think so?” She stared at him. “Was it Angel Perez?”

He looked in her eyes and saw something that told him what to say. “She didn’t give me a name. She said I was to come to you and take the children to a safe place.”

“Where is she? What’s happened to her?”

He shook his head. “Can you tell me where we are?”

“Hawk!” Tessa whispered in astonishment.

Helen Rice was looking at him now as if he had come from another planet.

“Let me understand. You were sent to guide us, but you don’t know where you are?”

“I know where we are going, but not where we are.”

She started to say something and then stopped. “All right.

We are on the south bank of the Columbia River, maybe a hundred miles east of the city of Portland, Oregon.”

Hawk looked at Tessa. “South of Seattle,” she confirmed.

“Look, what’s this all about? I have to tell you that I am in no mood for games. I just marched two thousand children and their caregivers all the way up here from southern California. The pace was grueling, and not everyone was up to it. Those who made it are exhausted and short of patience. Please get to the point.”

“We have to cross the river.” He glanced at the maps, and then looked back toward the town. “I saw a bridge earlier,” he said. “We can cross there.”

Helen Rice shook her head quickly. “A militia has it fortified and defended against anyone trying to cross without paying a fee.”

“What sort of fee?” Tessa asked.

“It doesn’t matter. We were told to wait here, not cross to the other side.”