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

The girl glanced at her. “Must I?” She paused, and then whistled sharply in the direction of the trees surrounding them.

A handful of figures emerged, slender and possessed of similar features, a couple of them fair like Simralin, a couple of a darker hue. There were four in all, three young men and a second girl. The girl was short and wiry, the young men of varying sizes. All were dressed in the same manner as Simralin and carried similar weapons.

“Ruslan, Que’rue, Tragen, and Praxia,” Simralin introduced them, pointing to each in turn, ending with the smaller girl. “We’re Elven Hunters, Trackers assigned to the Home Guard, returning home from a long-range reconnaissance of the human settlements east and north. We’ve been out five weeks, so you’ll forgive me for wondering how you knew to call to us just now, when we haven’t been in the area for better than a month.”

Ailie’s smile was childlike and unassuming. “I just did. I am guided by more than my own instincts.”

Simralin shook her head. “Apparently.” She glanced at the other Elves. “Did you hear what the Knight of the Word said about why they are here? About an Elfstone called a Loden?”

The other four nodded doubtfully, and Praxia said, “The Word sent a human to help Elves?”

“A Knight of the Word,” amended Tragen. He was big and broad-shouldered, his Elven features dark and sullen. “She carries a staff of power, rune-carved in the old way of Faerie.”

“Perhaps.” Praxia did not look convinced. “How do we know any of what she says is true? Are we supposed to take her word for it? Are we to allow a human into our city with nothing more than that? Are we to abandon hundreds of years of secrecy on a whim? I don’t like it.” She looked at Angel.

“Why can’t we convey your message to the King ourselves?”

“Your King needs to hear the words come from me,” Angel responded, staying calm, not letting herself engage in an argument that she knew she could not win. “There will be questions, and Ailie and I are the only ones who can answer them.”

“You must let her speak before the King and the Elven High Council,” Ailie repeated. “The Word requires it.”

The Elves looked at one another. “They seem awfully certain about this,”

Simralin ventured. “Perhaps with good reason. A Faerie creature traveling with a Knight of the Word—how could they have found us without divine guidance? She knew how to call to us when no one should even have known we were anywhere near. She knows about Elfstones and Arborlon and the King and the High Council. That isn’t information we generally share.”

“She knows more than she should,” Praxia declared, suspicion mirrored on her young face. She shook her head firmly and faced off against Simralin. “I don’t think we can take a chance on this. The risk is too great. I think we need to ask the King if he wishes to meet with them.”

She glanced at the other Elves. Ruslan and Que’rue, who had said nothing at all so far, said nothing now, looking first at each other and then at Simralin. “I don’t know,” said Tragen. He looked doubtful, as if sensing that something was wrong with this suggestion.

It was Simralin who put it into words. “Ailie is a messenger of the Word. Nothing can be hidden from her. If she found us so easily, she could find Arborlon, as well—whether we want her to or not.”

“We don’t know that,” objected Praxia.

“I think maybe we do.” Simralin nodded at Ailie. “Am I right, Ailie?”

“I thought it would be best if we came into the city with an escort,” the tatterdemalion replied. Her child’s features were open and frank. “We are not looking to intrude. We are here as friends, to help the Elves, not to trouble them.”

There was an awkward moment of silence as the five Trackers tried to decide how much of a threat the two intruders presented. It was impossible to read the faces of Que’rue or Ruslan. Tragen looked sullen all the time, even though his disposition seemed otherwise, and although Praxia gave no further indication about how she felt, Angel could read it in her angry eyes.

Only Simralin, perhaps because she was their leader, seemed willing to voice an opinion. “No human has entered the city of Arborlon in recorded history. It will break every rule the Elves have so carefully followed if we guide you in now. I don’t know how you will be received.”

Angel shook her head. “Our reason for coming overshadows any concerns about the reception we might expect. But if you feel strongly about this, why don’t you send someone on ahead or even go yourselves, and we will find our own way to the King.”

“That would be cowardly on our part,” Simralin said. “We would be playing a fool’s game and knowing we did so. We can’t keep you out, and there isn’t much point in pretending that we can. The best thing we can do for all concerned is to make sure you get to where you want to go and say what you want to say.”