enough for the wishsong to block the Sword’s truth from Par.
Because if Par really was a Shadowen …
Coil exhaled sharply, furiously. He would not let himself
finish the thought, could not accept its possibility. How could
Par be a Shadowen? How could he be one of those monsters?
There was some other reason for what was happening. There
had to be.
Stop debating the matter! You know what you have to do!
You have to find Par!
He rose to his feet and stood staring out at the misted lake,
battered and worn from his struggle to stay alive and from the
The Talismans of Shannara 287
revelations of the Sword. He thought of the years he had spent
looking after his brother while they were growing up—Par so
volatile and contentious, fighting to understand and control the
magic that lived within him, and Coil the peacemaker, using
his size and calming disposition to keep things from getting
out of hand. How many times had he stood up for Par,
shielded him from punishments and retributions, and kept him
safe from harm? How often had he compromised his own mis-
givings so that he could stand with his brother and protect
him? He couldn’t begin to count them. He didn’t want to. It
was simply something he’d had to do. It was something he
would do again now. Par and he were brothers, and brothers
stood up for one another when it was needed. The choice had
been made a long time ago.
Find Par and set him free.
Before it is too late.
He looked down at the Sword of Shannara and fingered its
pommel experimentally, remembering the feel of the magic
coursing through him. His magic. The magic he had thought
he would never have. It was an odd sensation, knowing that its
power was his. He remembered how much he had wanted it
once, wanted it not so much for what it could do but because
he had believed it would bring him closer to Par. He remem-
bered how alone he had felt after the meeting with Allanon—
the only member of the Ohmsford family to whom no charge
had been given. He remembered thinking that he might just as
well not have been there. The memory burned even now.
So what would he make of the chance that had been given
him?
He looked at himself, ragged and battered, without food or
water, without weapons (save for the Sword), without coins or
possessions to trade. He looked back across the lake again, at
the mist beginning to bum off as the sunlight strengthened.
Find Par.
His brother would be at Southwatch. But would he be his
brother still? Coil believed he could reach Par, that he could
find a way to overcome any obstacles set against him, but what
would have happened to his brother in the meantime? Would
the Sword of Shannara help against what the Shadowen might
288 The Talismans of Shannara
have done to Par? Would the magic be of any use if Par had
become one of them?
The questions were troubling. If he considered them further,
he might change his mind about going.
But was it any different when Par came in search of me?
Did he ask if I was still his brother?
He brushed the questions aside, took a firm grip on the
Sword of Shannara, and started walking.
He traveled east, following the shoreline toward the mouth
of the Silver River. Going west was out of the question, be-
cause it meant navigating the Mist Marsh and he knew better
than to try that. The clouds disappeared, the sun came out, and
the land turned molten. Steamy dampness rose in waves from
the sodden earth, and the puddles and streams created by the
storm dried back into the dust. Herons and cranes flew over
the lake in long swooping glides, and the waters turned silver-
tipped in the wake of their passing.
A stranger still to his new life, he thought long and hard
about everything that had happened, trying to piece together
the parts of the puzzle that still didn’t fit. Chief among those
was Rimmer Dall’s obsession with Par. That the First Seeker