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

The darkened, mostly empty buildings formed huge walls to either side, leaving them layered in shadows and silence. A cold wind blew up the concrete-and-stone canyons, coming off the water in damp gusts, carrying the smell of pitch from the torches. The drums throbbed in steady rhythm, the sound deep and ominous.

“I’m not scared,” Squirrel murmured into Owl’s shoulder.

She gave him a quick hug. “Of course you aren’t.”

They reached the freeway entrance, a long curving concrete ramp littered with rusted-out cars and trucks, some still whole, some in pieces. Owl looked expectantly for Logan Tom’s Lightning S-150 AV, having no idea what it was she was seeking, but knowing it wouldn’t be like anything else. Her efforts were in vain. Everything appeared the same to her. Nothing but junk and trash.

“It’s over there,” Fixit announced.

Because he was carrying one end of the Weatherman’s litter, he couldn’t point, only nod, so none of them was sure what he was indicating.

Owl looked in the general direction of his nod, but didn’t see anything.

“It’s behind that semi-trailer, over there by the pileup,”

Fixit continued. “See the big tires? That’s a Lightning AV.”

Owl was willing to take his word for it, even though she still didn’t see anything. Fixit knew a lot about the vehicles his elders had ridden in before almost everything on wheels stopped working. The source of his knowledge was something of a mystery given that he read so little and was content looking at pictures in old magazines, but she supposed it had to do with his mechanical nature.

She looked doubtfully at the abandoned vehicles, clusters of them stretching away down the ramp and onto the freeway for as far as the eye could see. It made her wonder what that last day had been like when the owners had simply abandoned them. It made her wonder what had happened to those people, all those years ago, when the city began to change.

Mostly it made her nervous about what might be down there that they couldn’t see. Lots of things made their homes in old vehicles, and you didn’t want to disturb them.

Still, they had no choice. They couldn’t afford to wait where they were, so far from where Logan Tom had told them to be. Not unless they were threatened, and as yet, the only threat came from the waterfront behind them.

“Lead us down, Fixit,” she told him, trying to keep the reluctance from her voice. “But everyone stay together and keep a close eye out for anything that might be hiding in those wrecks. Candle? Warn us if you sense anything.

“

They started down the ramp, a strange little procession, Fixit and River at the forefront carrying the litter with the Weatherman, Candle right behind, Bear following with the heavy cart, and Chalk, pushing Owl and Squirrel in the wheelchair, bringing up the rear. There was a pale wash of light from the distant compound, the walls of which they could just begin to see, and from the torches beginning to close on the docks of the bay. The drums still beat, and now there were shouts and cries, the sounds of a battle being fought.

She heard weapons fire, as well.

Her thoughts drifted to those still missing. She hoped that Sparrow was well away by now. She shouldn’t have given her permission to go up on the roof for that final check; she should have made her come with the rest of them. She wondered about Panther and Logan Tom and about Hawk and Tessa.

Too many people missing, too many ways for them to get hurt in what was happening down there.

Everything is changing, she thought without knowing exactly why she felt it was so. But the thought persisted. Nothing will ever be the same again after this night.

She thought suddenly of their home, of how cozy it had been. She remembered cooking for the others in her tiny, makeshift kitchen. She remembered telling them her stories of the boy and his children. She could picture them sitting around the room, listening intently, their faces rapt. She could hear their voices and their laughter. She could see herself tucking Squirrel and Candle in for the night, their faces sleepy and peaceful as she wrapped their blankets around them. She remembered the quiet moments she had shared with Hawk, neither of them speaking, both of them knowing without having to say so what the other was thinking.

No, nothing would ever be the same. She glanced around, looking at each of them in turn. The best she could hope for was that they would be able to stay together and stay safe…She stopped herself suddenly, aware that something was wrong. She counted heads quickly, certain that she must be mistaken, that she had simply missed him.

But there was no mistake. Cheney was missing. The big wolf dog, there only moment earlier it seemed, was nowhere in sight.

Where was he? She started to ask the others, and then stopped. In the shadows of the broken-down vehicles ahead, dark shapes were emerging into the light, crawling out of the wrecks.

Not just a few, but dozens.





Chapter THREE


TIME STOPPED, an intransigent presence.