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

He had never imagined that he would find himself tied up with a bunch of street kids.

But as with so many things in his life, it appeared he had been wrong about this, too.

He moved ahead into the shadow of the buildings and the dark canyon of Pioneer Square and tried not to look back.

OWL HEARD THE DRUMMING first and looked back over her shoulder past River, who was manning the wheelchair, toward the dark stain of the bay waters. Hundreds of lights dotted their smooth surface for as far as the eye could see.

“Turn me around,” she ordered the dark-haired girl.

River wheeled her about obediently. The other Ghosts saw what was happening and stopped to look with her. Bear slowed the heavy cart that was filled with their possessions, and Candle, who was leading the way, walked back.

Fixit and Chalk, carrying the Weatherman on his makeshift litter, set him down, stretching aching backs and rubbing weary arms.

“For an old man, he weighs an awful lot,” Chalk muttered.

Owl didn’t hear him, her attention focused on the lights.

Torches, she decided. More than she could count. They would be burning from the decks of boats, which meant a huge fleet had come to the city. But not for anything good.

In her lap, Squirrel stirred and lifted his sleepy face from her shoulder. “Are we there, Mama?”

“Not yet,” she whispered.

He snuffled and rubbed his eyes. “What’s that noise?”

“Nothing to worry about.” She stroked his fine hair. “Go back to sleep.”

She was worried about him. He should have been better by now, the sickness defeated. But he couldn’t seem to shake it, and he was growing weaker despite the medications and care. He had only been able to walk three blocks from their home when they left for the freeway before tiring and climbing into her lap. She didn’t mind holding him; he didn’t weigh hardly anything.

She glanced down at his wan face. She wished Tessa were there to offer advice. Tessa knew more about medications and sicknesses than anyone.

Candle was standing at her shoulder, young face intense and worried. “We have to run away,” she said.

“It’s an attack,” Bear declared. His big frame blocked the heavy cart so that it could not roll. “Those are war drums. That many boats means an invading force, probably come up from the south.”

“It is the thing that comes to kill us,” Candle said quickly. She was shivering, hugging herself as she stared out at the lights.

“It is the thing from my vision.”

Owl reached out for her and turned her around so that she was no longer looking at the lights. “Just look at me, Candle,” she said softly. She waited until the little girl stopped shaking. “Can you do that?”

Candle nodded. “I won’t look anymore.”

“Good.” Owl glanced around at the others. “Whatever it is, Candle is right. We need to get as far away from it as we can. Has anyone seen any sign of Sparrow or Panther?”

No one had. Chalk and Fixit were arguing about who should take the front end of the Weatherman’s litter. River stalked over angrily, pushed Chalk aside, and picked it up herself.

“Owl says we have to go. Fixit, pick up your end.” She glared at Chalk. “You can push the wheelchair for a while since you’re so tired.”

They started off once more, still climbing inland from the waterfront, having followed First Avenue to within sight of the Hammering Man before turning uphill toward the freeway entrance. It was there that the Knight of the Word had told them they would find his vehicle and should wait for him to join them. Owl hoped he would hurry. She was growing steadily more worried about being separated from Sparrow and Panther. It was bad enough to lose Hawk and maybe Tessa, but unbearable to think of losing the other two, as well. The Ghosts were a family, and as mother of this family she didn’t feel right when the group wasn’t together.

“Chalk, are you really too tired for this?” she asked quietly so that the others could not hear. She looked back at him. “Do you need a rest? Maybe Candle can fill in for a few minutes if you need to take a break.”

“I’m not tired,” the boy said, refusing to admit anything, glancing over at River for just a minute before looking away again. “I can do anything that anyone else can and do it better. Especially her.”

Even in flight and in danger, they squabbled like the children they were, Owl thought. But they loved and would do anything for one another. Wasn’t that true of all families, whatever their nature and circumstances? Wasn’t that a large part of what defined them as families? They continued their climb toward the top of the hill and the freeway entrance, following the sidewalk, angling between piles of debris and derelict vehicles.