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

Kirisin blinked. “I don’t know. It never occurred to me. We could have been looking for her under the wrong name this whole time.” He straightened, excited. “I’ll tell Erisha tomorrow. She can ask Culph, and he can look for her birth name in the histories. Once we have that, we can search Ashenell again.”


“I don’t think you should go back there alone,” Angel said quickly. “Ailie isn’t mistaken about the demon. It’s there, among the Elves, and now it knows about you. If it finds out what you are doing, it won’t be safe for you or anyone who tries to help you. If you go back, I should go with you.”

She stood abruptly, walked over to where he sat, and knelt beside him. “Kirisin. Listen carefully to me. You are in great danger. The demons are ruthless, and they will kill a boy like you without thinking twice.

Madre de Dios. Tell me. Have the Elves really lost all their magic? Do you have none of it left? Not even you, who are a Chosen of the Ellcrys? You have no way to protect yourself? No magic to call upon?”

“It was all lost centuries ago,” Kirisin answered. “The Elves have the ability to hide and not be found. We have healing skills. We have the means to care for the land and the things that live and grow on her, but not much else.

” He shook his head. “I wish we did.”

Simralin rose and touched Angel on the shoulder. “We can’t do anything more tonight. I have to take you back before someone finds that you are missing. We don’t want to have them thinking you are doing anything but awaiting the King’s pleasure.”

They clustered together on the porch for a moment in the pale moonlight, and the Elves and the Knight clasped hands.

“I’m glad you’ve come,” Kirisin said impulsively.

Angel’s face was dark with misgiving. “Just be careful, Kirisin. Step lightly.

“

THE WOLFISH BEAST that had been Delloreen and was now something almost wholly different slouched along the fringes of the Elven city, following the scent of the prey it sought. It no longer cared whom it hunted or even why. It barely remembered its purpose in doing so. All that mattered to it now was satisfying its need. All that mattered was finding and destroying the thing it hunted.

It had tracked her all the way here, a long and arduous hunt during which it had lost the scent any number of times. But it had persevered, searching and searching some more until the scent was recovered and the tracking begun anew. It had eaten and drunk what it could find along the way so as not to lose its strength, but had not slept. Sleep was a luxury for which it had no use. Nothing could be allowed to slow it down.

Now it was arrived at this city, this habitat of creatures it instinctively knew to be prey. It could kill them all at its leisure; they would provide it with days and weeks and even months of enjoyment. But first it must find the one it had hunted for so long, the one it must kill before it could rest easy. There was no reasoning involved in its assessment; it was acting on instinct and hunger. It was acting on a mix of feral and demon needs.

It was closing on its prey, the scent growing fresher, and then suddenly it encountered a new and different scent, one that was both unexpected and immediately recognizable. The scent was of another demon, another of its own kind. That it should surface here, in this place so deep in the wilderness and far removed from the human population, surprised it.

Thrilled by its discovery and anxious to learn why another demon would be here, it began to track this new scent. It could not explain its lure, but neither could it resist. Forgotten momentarily was its need to hunt the prey it had tracked with such single-minded diligence. All that mattered now was this new obsession.

It padded through the trees, another of night’s shadows, staying off the paths and trails, keeping clear of the creatures that lived there. It must not draw attention to itself, it knew. Secrecy was necessary.

Even fighting through the fog of its diminished reasoning, it knew that much.

Hunting was mostly reactive; your instincts told you what was needed.

It was approaching a house, one that was set well back into the woods, half buried in the forest earth, when it became aware of the other demon. The newcomer approached unhurriedly, not bothering to hide its presence, its footfalls confident and determined. Delloreen stopped and waited, dark muzzle lifted to catch the other’s scent.

“My, my, aren’t you a beautiful thing,” a voice soothed, a disembodied presence in the darkness.

The demon stepped into the light and gazed with passionate interest into Delloreen’s yellow eyes, a smile lighting its face. Its hands clasped in unmistakable joy. “I have seen so few others in my time here,” it whispered.

“But you—you are beyond my most ardent expectations! Look at you, pretty thing! Such grace and power!” The voice trailed off. “What’s this? You have shape-changed recently, haven’t you? There are still traces of your human form, bits and pieces showing through the new skin you wear so well.