we went down into the Pit that last time.”
Padishar sighed. “If they find out who she is—”
“No,” Par interrupted quickly. “We’ll have her back before
then.” He met the other’s penetrating gaze. “We will,
Padishar.”
Padishar Creel nodded. “We will, indeed. Par Ohmsford. We
will, indeed.”
It was several hours later when the Mole appeared sound-
lessly through the entryway, sliding out of the dark Hke one of
its shadows, eyes blinking against the candlelight. His fur
stood on end, bristling from his worn clothes and giving him
the look of a prickly scrub. Wordlessly he moved to extinguish
several of the lights, leaving the larger part of his chambers
shrouded once more in the darkness with which he was com-
fortable. He scooted past to where his children sat clustered on
the floor, cooed softly to them for a moment, gathered them up
tenderly, and carried them back to the sofa.
He was still arranging them when Padishar’s patience ran out.
“What did you find out? ” the big man demanded heatedly.
‘Tell us, if you think you can spare the time!”
The Mole shifted without turning. “She is a prisoner.”
Par felt the blood drain from his face. He glanced quickly at
Padishar and found the big man on his feet, hands clenched.
“Where? ” Padishar whispered.
The Mole took a moment to finish settling Chalt against a
cushion and then turned. “In the old Legion barracks at the
back of the inner wall. Lovely Damson is kept in the south
watchtower, all alone.” He shuffled his feet. “It took me a long
time to find her.”
Padishar came forward and knelt so that they were at eye
level. The scratches on his face were as red as fire. “Have
they …” He groped for the words. “Is she all right? ”
The Talismans of Shannara 27
The Mole shook his head. “I could not reach her.”
Par came forward as well. “You didn’t see her? ”
“No.” The Mole blinked. “But she is there. I climbed
through the tower walls. She was just on the other side. I could
hear her breathe through the stone. She was sleeping.”
The Valeman and the leader of the free-born exchanged a
quick glance. “How closely is she watched? ” Padishar pressed.
The Mole brought his hands to his eyes and rubbed gently
with his knuckles. “Soldiers stand watch at. her door, at the
foot of the stairs leading up, at the gate leading in. They patrol
the halls and walkways. There are many.” He blinked. “There
are Shadowen as well.”
Padishar sagged back. “They know,” he whispered harshly.
“No,” Par disagreed. “Not yet.” He waited for Padishar’s
eyes to meet his own. “If they did, they wouldn’t let her sleep.
They’re not sure. They’ll wait for Rimmer Dall—just as they
did before.”
Padishar stared at him wordlessly for a moment, a glimmer
of hope showing on his rough features. “You might be right.
So we have to get her out before that happens.”
“You and me,” Par said quietly. “We both go.”
The leader of the free-bom nodded, and an understanding
passed between them that was more profound than anything
words could have expressed. Padishar rose and they faced each
other in the gloom of the Mole’s shabby chambers, resolve
hardening them against what most certainly lay ahead. Par
pushed aside the unanswered questions and the confusion over
the Sword of Shannara. He buried his doubts over the use of
his own magic. Where Damson was concerned, he would do
whatever it took to get her free. Nothing else mattered.
“We will need to get close to her,” Padishar declared softly,
looking down at the Mole. “As close as we can without being
seen.”
The Mole nodded solemnly. “I know a way.”
The big man reached out to touch his shoulder. “You will
have to come with us.”
“Lovely Damson is my best friend,” the Mole said.
Padishar nodded and took his hand away. He turned to Par.
“We’ll go after her now.”
The man in the high castle was Walker Boh, and he
walked its parapets and battlements, its towers and
keeps, all of the corridors and walkways that defined its