Heritage of Shannara 1 – The Scions of Shannara by Brooks, Terry

berated in the sound of the men’s hurried footsteps. The walls

of the tunnel narrowed down sharply, then broadened out again,

a constant change of size and shape. They passed through a

series of underground caverns where the torchlight could not

even begin to penetrate the shadows that cloaked the hollow,

vaulted roofs. A little farther on, a series of crevices opened

before them, several almost twenty feet across. Bridges had been

built to span them, wooden slats connected by heavy ropes, the

ropes anchored in the rock by iron pins. The bridges swayed

and shook as they crossed, but held firm.

All the while they walked, they kept watch for Teel. But there

was no sign of her.

Steff was beginning to have trouble keeping up. He was enor-

mously strong and fit when well, but whatever sickness had

attacked him-if indeed it was a sickness and he had not been

poisoned as Morgan was beginning to surmise-had left him

badly worn. He fell repeatedly and had to drag himself up again

each time. Padishar never slowed. The big man had meant what

he said-Steff was on his own. The Dwarf had gotten this far on

sheer determination, and Morgan did not see how he could

maintain the pace the outlaw chief was setting much longer. The

Highlander glanced back at his friend, but Steff didn’t seem to

see him, his haunted eyes searching the shadows, sweeping the

curtain of black beyond the light.

They were more than a mile into the mountain when a glim-

mer of light appeared ahead, a pinprick that quickly became a

glow. Padishar did not slow or bother to disguise his coming.

The tunnel broadened, and the opening ahead brightened with

the nicker of torches. Morgan felt his heartbeat quicken.

They entered a massive underground cavern ablaze with light.

Torches were jammed into cracks in the walls and floors, filling

the air with smoke and the smell of charred wood and burning

pitch. At the center of the cavern a huge crevice split the cham-

ber floor end to end, a twisted maw that widened and narrowed

as it worked its way from wall to wall. Another bridge had been

built to span the crevice at its narrowest juncture, this one a

massive iron structure. Machinery had been installed on the

near side of the crevice to raise and lower it. The bridge was

down at the moment, linking the halves of the cavern floor.

Beyond, the flat rock stretched away to where the tunnel disap-

peared once more into darkness.

Teel stood next to the bridge machinery, hammering.

Padishar Creel stopped, and Morgan and Steff quickly came

up beside him. Teel hadn’t heard or seen them yet, then- torch-

light enveloped by the cavern’s own brightness.

Padishar laid down his torch. “She’s jammed the machinery.

The bridge can’t be raised again.” His eyes found Sleff’s. “If

we let her, she will bring the Federation right to us.”

Steff stared wildly. “No.” he gasped in disbelief.

Padishar ignored him. He unsheathed his broadsword and

started forward.

Steff lunged after him, tripping, falling, then crying out fran-

tically, “Teel!”

Teel whirled about. She held an iron bar in her hands, the

smooth surface bright with nicks from where she had been

smashing the bridge works. Morgan could see the damage clearly

now, winches split apart, pulleys forced loose, gears stripped.

Teel’s hair glittered in the light, flashing with traces of gold. She

faced them, her mask revealing nothing of what she was think-

ing, an expressionless piece of leather strapped about her head,

the eyeholes dark and shadowed.

Padishar closed both big hands about the broadsword, lifting

its blade into the light. “End of the line for you, girl,” he

snapped.

The echo filled the cavern, and Steff came to his feet, lurching

ahead. “Padishar, wait!” he howled.

Morgan jumped to intercept him, caught hold of his arm, and

jerked him about. “No, Steff, that isn’t Teel! Not anymore!”

Steffs eyes were bright with anger and fear. Morgan lowered his

voice, speaking quickly, calmly. “Listen to me. That’s a Shad-

owen, Steff. How long since you’ve seen the face beneath that

mask? Have you looked at it? It isn’t Teel under there anymore.

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