outlaw chief. Thus he told her not only of their encounter with
the Shadowen, but of the strange behavior of the wishsong, of
the unexpected way its magic had performed, even of his sus-
picions of the influence of the Elfstones.
When he had finished, the three of them sat staring wordlessly
at one another for a moment, of different minds as they reflected
on what the foray into the Pit had uncovered and what it all
meant.
Coil spoke first. “It seems to me that we have more questions
to answer now than we did when we went in.”
“But we know some things, too, Coil,” Par argued. He bent
forward, eager to speak. “We know that there is some sort of
connection between the Federation and the Shadowen. The Fed-
eration has to know what it has down there; it can’t be ignorant
of the truth. Maybe it even helped create those monsters. For
all we know they might be Federation prisoners thrown into the
Pit like Ciba Blue and changed into what we found. And why
are they still down there if the Federation isn’t keeping them so?
Wouldn’t they have escaped long ago if they could?”
“As I said, there are more questions than answers,” Coil
declared. He shifted his heavy frame to a more comfortable
position.
Damson shook her head. “Someming seems wrong here.
Why would the Federation have any dealings with the Shad-
owen? The Shadowen represent everything the Federation is
against-magic, the old ways, the subversion of the Southland
and its people. How would the Federation even go about making
such an arrangement? It has no defense against the Shadowen
magic. How would it protect itself?”
“Maybe it doesn’t have to,” Coil said suddenly. They looked
at him. “Maybe the Federation has given the Shadowen some-
one else to feed on besides itself, someone the Federation has
no use for in any case. Perhaps that’s what became of the Elves.”
He paused. “Perhaps that’s what’s happening now to the
Dwarves.”
They were silent as they considered the possibility. Par hadn’t
thought about the Dwarves for a time, the horrors of Culhaven
and its people shoved to the back of his mind these past few
weeks. He remembered what he had seen there-the poverty,
the misery, the oppression. The Dwarves were being extermi-
nated for reasons that had never been clear. Could Coil be right?
Could me Federation be feeding the Dwarves to the Shadowen
as a part of some unspeakable bargain between them?
His face tightened in dismay. “But what would the Federation
get in return?”
“Power,” Damson Rhee said immediately. Her face was still
and white.
“Power over the Races, over the Four Lands,” Coil agreed,
nodding. “It makes sense, Par.”
Par shook his head slowly. “But what happens when there is
no one left but the Federation? Surely someone must have
thought of that. What keeps the Shadowen from feeding on men
as well?”
No one answered “We’re still missing something,” Par said
softly. “Something important.”
He rose, walked to the other side of the room, stood looking
into space for a long moment, shook his head finally, turned,
and came back. His lean face was stubborn with determination
as he reseated himself.
“Let’s get back to the matter of the Shadowen in me Pit,” he
declared quietly, “since that, at least, is a mystery that we might
be able to solve.” He folded his legs in front of him and eased
forward. He looked at each of them in turn, then said, “I think
that the reason they are down there is to keep anyone from
getting to the Sword of Shannara.”
“Par!” Coil tried to object, but his brother cut him off with
a quick shake of his head.
“Think about it a moment. Coil. Padishar was right. Why
would the Federation go to all the trouble of remaking the Peo-
ple’s Park and the Bridge of Sendic? Why would they hide what
remains of the old park and bridge in that ravine? Why, if not
to conceal the Sword? And we’ve seen the vault, Coil! We’ve
seen it!”
“The vault, yes-but not the Sword,” Damson pointed out
quietly, her green eyes intense as they met those of the Valemen.