right beams that braced the ceiling supports, cut so deep that
he severed them, and the entire building began to collapse.
“Enough!” Matty screamed, catching hold of his arm and
pulling him away.
He fought her for an instant, then realized what he was
doing and gave in. They rushed for the trapdoor and scrambled
to safety just as the ceiling gave way and buried everything in
a thunderous crash.
Below, they ran through the blackness of the tunnels, charg-
ing ahead recklessly, heedless of where they were going. Light
glimmered in the distance, faint and beckoning, and they raced
wildly to reach it. The strange wholeness that Morgan felt
when using the Sword’s magic began to dissipate, opening a
pit within that widened into a hunger, into a familiar sense of
loss, into the beginnings of a desperate need. He fought against
it, warning himself that he must not let the magic rule him as
it had before, calling up images of Par and Walker and finally
Quickening to strengthen his resolve. He reached out for Matty
and caught hold of her hand. Her grip tightened on his own, as
if she sensed his fear, and she held him fast.
Don’t let me go, he prayed silently. Don’t let me fall.
Dust and dampness filled his lungs, and he coughed against
the air’s thickness, fighting to catch his breath. His weariness
weighed him down, chains on his limbs and body. They ran
on, the light stronger now, closer. Matty’s ragged breathing
matched the pounding of their boots on the stone. The blood
pulsed in his ears.
Then they were within the light, a shaft of brightness from
a drainage-grate opening in the street above. Rain cascaded
down through the gaps and formed a silver curtain, and thun-
der rolled across the skies. Matty collapsed against one wall,
pulling him down with her. They sat with their backs against
the cool stone, gasping.
She turned to him, and her cobalt eyes were wild and fierce
and her waiflike features were shining. She looked as if she
wanted to howl with glee. She looked as if she had discovered
something that she had believed forever lost.
260 The Talismans of Shannara
‘That was wonderful!” she breathed, and laughed like a
child.
When she saw the astonishment mirrored on his face, she
leaned over quickly and kissed him hard on the mouth. She
held the kiss for a long time, her arms wrapping about him and
holding him fast.
Then she released him, laughed again, and pulled him to his
feet. “Come on, we have to catch the others! Come on, Mor-
gan Leah! Run!”
They continued down the tunnel, the sounds of the storm
trailing after them into the black. They did not run far, slowing
quickly to a walk as their wind gave out. Their eyesight ad-
justed to the gloom, and they could pick out the movement of
rats. Rainwater sloshed down the grates in an increasingly
heavy flow, and soon they were ankle-deep. From light shaft to
light shaft they made their way, listening for the sounds of
those who might be following as well as for those they sought.
They heard shouts and cries from the streets, the gallop of
horses, the rumble of wagons, and the thudding of booted feet.
The city was swarming with soldiers hunting for them, but for
now the sounds were all aboveground.
Still there was no sign of Damson and the free-born.
Finally they reached a divergence in the passageway that
forced them to choose. Morgan did the best he could, but there
was nothing to help him decide. If the rainwater hadn’t flooded
the sewer floor, there might have been tracks. They pressed on,
side by side, Matty Roh holding onto him as if frightened she
might lose him to the dark. The distance between the grates
began to widen until the tunnel was so black they could barely
see.
“I think we missed a turn,” Morgan said softly, angrily.
They backtracked and tried again. The new passage angled
sharply one way and then another, and again the distance be-
tween grates widened and the light began to fail. They found