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

“Why do you carry that staff?” she asked him.

“I’ll tell you sometime. How do you know where to find plague medicine?”

“The Lizards keep stores of it to trade with. They don’t have much use for most of it. Their immune systems aren’t affected in the same way as humans, so the medicines mostly don’t help. What kind is it that you need?”

“Cyclomopensia.” He reached in his pocket, took out the empty container Owl had given him, and handed it to her. “Look familiar?”

She examined it carefully and then pocketed it. “I think I’ve seen it. We can take some of the other kinds, too. In case.”

He glanced at her, but she kept looking straight ahead, a step or two in front of him. “What if my kids don’t like you?” he asked after a moment. “I probably can’t change it if they don’t.”

“Some of them will like me, I bet.”

“Some of them, yes.” He thought of Owl. She would be quick enough to take Cat under her wing. Maybe Candle, too. But he wasn’t so sure about the others.

“Are you worried about me?”

He thought about it a moment. “I don’t know.”

She reached down abruptly and scooped up Rabbit, cradling him in her arms.

“Don’t be. I can take care of myself.”

He didn’t know about that, either.





Chapter NINETEEN


BEAR STOOD IN THE SHADOWS fifty yards from the little shed in which Owl kept watch over River and Fixit. It was nearing midnight—or maybe midnight had already come and gone, he couldn’t be sure. He had taken the first watch after dinner and carried the heavy Tyson Flechette out into the darkness, choosing this spot in which to hide, the shadows so thick and deep that no one approaching would see him until they were within a dozen feet. At least, that was what he hoped. If a predator had eyesight good enough to spy him out from any farther away, they were all in a lot of trouble.

But experience had taught him that even the most dangerous predators in this post apocalyptic world lacked good eyesight. Something about the quality of the air or the ingestion of poisons from food and drink had weakened the vision of living things in general. There were exceptions. Hawk was one, Cheney another. But the eyesight of the monsters and the Freaks had not evolved in proportion to their appetites and their cunning and strength.

Their hearing was keen, though. It didn’t pay to move around a whole lot at night if one of them was hunting. Their sense of smell was pretty good, too, most times. If they were four-legged rather than two-legged predators.

He knew these things because he had made it his business to know. All the way back to before he was a Ghost, before he even knew where Seattle was or that he might one day end up there. He knew it from the time he was six and had to stand guard while the rest of his family toiled in the fields. In those days, it was believed that not all of the land had been poisoned and that some of it, particularly in distant corners of the United States, was still fertile enough to grow crops. That idea lasted about five years, and then it became clear that whether or not everything was contaminated was beside the point. There was no way to harvest what was grown and no sustainable market to purchase it. You could grow crops if you wanted, but you were likely to end up feeding the wrong mouths.

Bear learned it the first time the raiders appeared, took what they wanted of the crop, and burned the rest to the ground. He learned it when they took his two uncles, whom he never saw again. He learned it when they killed his dog.

He tried to tell his family that it was too risky even before the raiders appeared, but they were not much interested in hearing what he had to say. They never had been. Bear was big and slow and gave the impression of being a trifle stupid. He took his time answering questions and seldom spoke unless spoken to first. He ambled when he walked, and he always seemed to be trying to figure out where he should go and what he should do. He was enormously strong, but his strength seemed to bother him. He walked carefully and responded tentatively. He thought everything through. He saw life in slow motion. His brothers liked to joke that he could do anything, but by the time he got around to doing it, everyone would have gone to bed.