pulled the leader of the free-bom back to his feet. Damson was
calling out from somewhere ahead, urging them on. Matty Roh
reappeared, darted at the last Federation soldier standing, killed
him with a single pass, and sped on. Morgan and the free-bom
followed, skidding in the mix of rain and blood that coated the
bridge surface.
On the low end of the causeway they found Damson waiting
in the open doors of a large warehouse, gesturing for them to
hurry. They stmggled to reach her, hearing the sounds of
pursuit—booted feet pounding through the mud, weapons
clanging against armor, curses and shouts of rage. They en-
tered the gloom-filled building in a rush, and Damson
slammed and barred the doors behind them. The Mole poked
his head out of a trapdoor that was all but lost in the shadows
at the building’s rear and disappeared again.
“Down into the tunnels!” Damson ordered, pointing after the
Mole. “Quick!”
The free-bom hastened to comply, those who were able giv-
ing what support they could to the injured. Chandos went first,
half dragging, half carrying Padishar Creel, and disappeared
from sight. The shouts of their pursuers reached the doors of
the warehouse, and a violent pounding began. Pikes and spears
slammed into the barrier, splitting the wood. Morgan paused,
hallway to the tunnel. Matty Roh stood alone before the im-
pending rush, sword held ready.
“Matty!” he called out.
The last of the free-bom dropped through the trapdoor.
Battle-axes split the crossbar that braced the warehouse en-
trance, and the heavy doors sagged. Matty Roh backed away
258 The Talismans of Shannara
slowly, reluctant even now to give ground. She seemed small
and vulnerable before the crush that surely faced her, but held
herself as if made of iron.
“Many!” Morgan shouted again, then raced back for her.
Seizing her arm, he dragged her toward the tunnel entry just as
the warehouse doors gave way, and Federation soldiers poured
into the room. Foremost were Seekers, hooded and cloaked,
the wolf’s-head insignia gleaming on their uniforms. Their
cries at seeing him were hisses of delight.
Morgan turned to face them, standing before the tunnel en-
trance. It was too late to flee. If he tried, they would cut him
down from behind and then catch the others as well. If he
stayed, he could slow the rush and the others would gain a few
precious moments. Matty Roh crouched at his elbow. He
thought momentarily to tell her to run, but a furtive glance at
her face told him he would be wasting his time.
The rush came from three sides, but Morgan and the girl
fought with a ferocity bom of desperation and threw it back.
The Sword of Leah turned to blue fire as it met the Seeker
strike, hammering past the Shadowen defense and turning the
black things to ash. Some of the Federation soldiers saw what
was happening and fell back with whispered cries and oaths.
Matty Roh attacked at the first indication of a weakening in the
ranks, her slender sword snaking out so quickly that it could
barely be seen, her movements fluid and efficient as she fol-
lowed her weapon into the crush. Morgan went with her, fight-
ing to cover her back, impelled by the sudden rush of magic
that surged from the Leah talisman into his limbs. He howled
out his battle cry anew, “Leah, Leah,” and threw himself at the
men before him. The Seekers died immediately, and the sol-
diers who had followed them in tripped and fell over one an-
other in their haste to get away. Many Roh was crying out as
well, a shriek that pierced the cacophony of screams rising
from the dead and wounded. Morgan felt light-headed, empty
of thought, of needs and wants, of everything but the magic’s
fire.
Then suddenly the Federation attack gave way completely,
and the last of those who still lived fled back through the
warehouse doors into the streets of Tyrsis. Morgan whirled in
fury, driven by the magic, and the Sword of Leah radiating
The Talismans of Shannara 259
fire. Swinging the talisman like a scythe, he cut into the up-