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

But only traces, and not much of those. Your human self is almost gone, dispatched for the weakness and the burden it is. Yes. Better to be what you are than what I am, trapped in something so loathsome.”


Delloreen would have purred had she been able, but settled for a contented growl. This other demon had awakened something in her, a need she had not even known was there, a longing. It was why she had sought it out, she realized. This demon was a missing part of her; finding it made her feel unexplainably complete.

“Sweet thing,” it whispered to her and held out its hand.

She surprised herself by nuzzling it. She surprised herself further by finding pleasure in its touch.

“Where have you come from?” The hand withdrew, not presuming to linger, leaving Delloreen unexpectedly bereft. “You track the Knight of the Word and the tatterdemalion, don’t you? What did they do that would cause you to hunt them so assiduously? You have come a long way. I can tell. You have chased them. Have you done battle with the Knight?”

Delloreen whined, a low, rough sound.

“Oh, more than once, it seems. Before you were what you are now, and not so magnificent. Your change is too recent for it to be more than a few days old. But now you are so much more powerful than you were, and when you find the Knight of the Word this time…”

The voice trailed off, the intended finish unmistakable.

Delloreen could picture it in her mind, could see the rending of her prey’s flesh, could feel it tearing in her jaws. She could hear the sound of breaking bones and horrified screams.

“But for now,” said the other, breaking into her thoughts, “you must come with me. If you are seen, they will hunt you down and destroy you. They could not do so separately, but in force they are too many. I should know. I have been hiding for years—a recognizable presence among them, yet so much more than they know—and I have learned to be careful.”

The demon put its hand on the top of her head, a soft and gentle touch that lingered and was gone too quickly. “We will hide and wait for the right time. It will not be long, pretty one. The Knight of the Word and her Faerie companion present a danger that we must eliminate. My plans for the Elves and their precious tree and all the rest that they think so important are falling into place as I intended they should. Those who would expose us will be our unwitting accomplices. We will see the end of them all before another cycle of the moon.”

Delloreen growled softly, indicating her pleasure and her wishes. “Yes, you may kill the Knight. You may kill them all when I am done with them. The killing belongs to you; it is your province and your right.

Their lives are yours to take. But not now. Not yet. We must let them fulfill their uses first.”

The night breezes blew across Delloreen’s scaly hide, and she felt herself ripple in response. She could be patient for this one. She was a hunter, and all hunters understood patience. If this one asked for hers, she would give it.

She could not understand the lure this demon held for her, could not grasp why it made her feel so anxious to do what was asked. There was power here that she could not fathom. It transcended that wielded by the old man she had left behind, the one whose name she no longer remembered and whose face had become an unrecognizable blur. Physical power was hers to employ, but this other power held a strange allure. She longed to be in its presence, to bask in its glow.

“Come now,” the other demon whispered. “We will sleep. You have come far, and you are tired. Rest will make you even stronger, even more formidable.

I have a place where you will be safe, where we can be together.” It touched her again, more boldly this time. “I have much to share with you, pretty thing. I have waited for you a long time.”

Delloreen could not understand what it meant, but she was sufficiently seduced that she didn’t care. This was one of her own, a demon spawn, a creature of the Void.

She went willingly.





Chapter ELEVEN


“I DON’T CARE HOW RISKY you thought it was, you should have come back and gotten me!” Erisha snapped angrily, her face so close to his own that he could feel the heat of her breath on his face. “How many times do I have to say it?”

They were kneeling together in the gardens, working on a border of caerwort, a ground cover of pale green leaves and bright pink flowers that fought back against invasive weeds and was highly resistant to insect pests. Large stretches of it formed a protective perimeter around the Ellcrys, but needed cleaning out and replacing on a regular basis.

Kirisin nodded in resignation. They had been going over this same ground all morning. “I’ve said I was sorry. I meant it. I just thought it would be better to wait until today. There wasn’t anything more to be done last night.”

“You were thinking about yourself!”

He gave her a long, searching look. “You know better.”