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

His grin was bright and fierce as he tightened his fingers about the Stone.

He couldn’t know for sure, but he reasoned that somehow the magic had identified him through the touch of his fingertips, either as a bearer of the blue Elfstones or as a bearer of the blessing of the shade of Pancea Rolt Gotrin. Either way, he had been recognized and accepted, and the Loden Elfstone was his.

He took a moment to loosen his grip enough that he could study the Stone more closely. It was a perfectly clear gemstone, smooth and exquisitely faceted, all bright mirrors that both reflected and refracted the chamber light. Within its depths, small traces of color swirled and vanished like tiny fish in deep water.

“What is it you can do?” he whispered to the Stone.

Then, tightening his grip anew, he turned back the way he had come, retracing his steps toward the wall of light. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he attempted to walk into it, but he knew his only choice was to try leaving and see what happened.

At least the worst of it was over, he thought.

When he reached the light, he hesitated once more, and then, having no other sensible recourse, reached out and touched it.

Instantly, the light disappeared along with the chamber, the pedestal, and everything else he had seen since leaving the dragon’s maw and descending into its throat. He blinked against the sudden blackness, waiting for his eyes to adjust. When they did, he found himself standing once more within the dragon’s open jaws, peering out through the double rows of its serrated teeth toward the glow of Simralin’s torch.

In the shadows beyond the maw of the dragon, he saw her move toward him in the gloom.

“There you are!” a familiar voice that clearly wasn’t hers declared. “Come here, boy. Don’t just stand there gaping.”

Kirisin’s mouth was indeed hanging open in disbelief.

“DEMON!” Angel Perez called out a second time when there was no response to the first. “Are you afraid of me?”

Still nothing. She waited some more. It didn’t matter how long this took. The longer the better, in fact. She was buying time for the Elves, and the more she could give them, the better their chances of gaining possession of what they had come to find.

She was suddenly uneasy, standing out in the open like this, exposed to everything, and she began moving to her left, changing not only her position but also her view of the rocks. The feeders, which now numbered more than a hundred, moved with her. Already she had summoned the magic to her staff, filling it with white fire, the runes glowing like embers in a working forge. She felt its warmth flood through her, circulating like her blood, the measure of her life. She would not give up that life easily, she told herself. She would not help the ones who had come to kill her by panicking or trying to flee or acting in haste or desperation. She would show them what real strength meant.

The hissing sound came a moment later, slow and taunting, a wicked whisper from within the rocks.

She held her breath, waiting.

Then the wolf thing appeared, a shadow sliding out of other shadows, long and lean and hungry. Its tongue lolled and its teeth gleamed. It was fully ten feet in length, and its sleek body rippled with muscle. Only now it looked less like a wolf and more like a giant cat, its features become decidedly feline, the scaly body having undergone yet another metamorphosis.

The change caught her by surprise. But a demon was still a demon, she told herself, whatever shape it took.

She glanced past it into the cluster of boulders. There was no sign of its companion. Was it hiding back there, waiting for its chance to catch her off guard while she was preoccupied with this one? What had become of it? But almost before her questions were asked she knew the answers. The second demon was farther up the mountain, tracking Kirisin and his sister. It had gotten around behind her, and while this one distracted her it would take care of her unprotected charges.

She felt her heart sink with the realization. Simralin was tough and Kirisin brave, but they were no match for a demon. A rush of urgency flooded through her. She had to end things here quickly if she was to be of any help to her friends.

“Acude a mi, demonio,” she taunted the demon, and then hissed at it cat-like. “Here kitty, kitty. Come play with me.”

The demon spit as if scalded, hunching its shoulders.

Slowly, deliberately, it slouched toward her. The feeders were leaping all about them, anxious and hungry, anticipating their battle. Angel braced herself in the snow and ice, aware suddenly that she had failed to remove her crampons.

The iron teeth were sunk into the snow, pinning her in place. She would not be able to move quickly.