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

Kirisin grimaced. “Well, at least she’s speaking to me again. For a while, she wasn’t even doing that much.”


“It seems like she’s doing a whole lot more than that now.

She’s going up against her father. Risky, for a King’s young daughter.”

Kirisin thought about it. It was risky. But he wasn’t sure he understood exactly what the nature of the risk was. It was more than a threat of punishment for disobedience, he sensed.

“I like her better for taking that risk,” he said.

“I expect you do.”

He gave her an impish grin. “But I like her best because she looks and smells like me.”

“Speaking of which, maybe you ought to go clean up.” She loosened her headband and shook out her long blond hair. “I might want to think about that myself. Our guests have been summoned before the High Council to make their presentation, and I have been told to be present. I could do without that, but I was not given a choice.”

“Do you think you are in trouble for bringing a human into Arborlon? Even if you did it in the best way and for the right reasons?”

She shrugged. “Probably. Praxia was certainly angry enough about it, and she let it be known to everyone within listening distance. There will be others who are equally unhappy. But it was the right choice.”

“The King might not see it that way.”

“Probably not. But the matter is decided.”

Kirisin grinned. That was Simralin’s way of saying it was over and done with, so what was the point of talking about it now? He liked how she could be so matter-of-fact about the way things were. She wasn’t much for revisiting the past.

“So here we are,” he said.

“So here we are.”

They were silent again for a moment, then Kirisin said, “I was thinking. Doesn’t it seem odd that the Word’s messengers summoned you and the Ellcrys summoned me to do essentially the same thing? To carry a message to the Elves about the danger they are in and how maybe they can avoid it? You and me, a brother and sister, out of all the possible choices? That seems like a rather large coincidence.”

“Not large, Little K.” Simralin finished off her glass of ale and stretched like a big cat. “Huge.”

Kirisin frowned. “You think it was planned, don’t you? That the tatterdemalion was told to bring the Knight of the Word to you specifically, maybe because we are brother and sister?”

“Like you said, it could have been anyone in the entire Elven nation that Ailie called to her. But it wasn’t just anyone; it was me. It feels deliberate.”

They stared at each other in silence. Kirisin said, “Can I come with you tonight? It might help if I’m there to advise the High Council that what the Knight and the tatterdemalion are telling them is what the Ellcrys already told Erisha and me.”

Simralin shook her head doubtfully. “They are going to want to know why you didn’t come forward with this sooner. If you tell them that you did, that you told the King, you are going to be a very unpopular member of the Belloruus royal family.”

“I’ll be in good company,” he said, giving her a pointed look.

She laughed softly. “It’s good to be home again, Little K.

I’ve missed having you around. Go take your bath and change your clothes. Then we’ll see if we can find out where all this is going.”

AN HOUR LATER, they were walking toward the buildings adjacent to the Belloruus home that housed the meeting chambers of the Elven High Council. It was night by now, the daylight faded completely, the sky a mix of scattered clouds and pinpricks of starlight. They walked the back trails skirting the city, avoiding the more heavily traveled roadways. They were already late, and they needed to get to where they were going without being stopped. Neither spoke as they walked, keeping their thoughts to themselves. But each knew what the other was thinking.

Kirisin glanced over at his sister, then down at himself.

They were both washed and dressed in a clean set of clothes—the loose-fitting pants, slip-over shirt, and soft boots favored by most Elves. They were presentable, if unimpressive. But making any sort of impression on the members of the High Council and the King was probably out of the question anyway. It wasn’t as if everyone didn’t already know who they were. It wasn’t as if they were strangers.

Even so, Kirisin felt a little bit as if he were.

He adjusted his wide belt. The weapons loops hung slack and empty. Neither carried even so much as a long knife. If they needed weapons this night, they were already beyond help.

Even so, Kirisin found himself wishing that he had brought at least one blade.

He could not account for this sense of misgiving, a nagging uneasiness that lacked a recognizable source but was present nevertheless. He felt foolish for letting it trouble him and roughly pushed it away.