Talismans of Shannara by Terry Brooks

it swiftly, and as they did Par felt the magic of the wishsong

again stir suddenly to life. He gasped at the swiftness of its

coming, almost doubling over with the heat it generated, like

a furnace door being opened.

Something was wrong.

He grasped Padishar’s arm. The big man turned, startled.

Par jerked about, sensing movement behind, a dark presence

… The Shadowen! They were—

And the door behind them flew open with a crash. Three

black-cloaked Seekers surged through, Shadowen forms

hunched and twisted within the concealing garb, weapons

glinting in the torchlight. Padishar’s broadsword scraped free

of its scabbard. Par reached back for the Sword of Shannara,

then jerked his hands away as if from live coals. He would be

burned if he touched it! Burned, he knew!

“Padishar!” he gasped.

The big man wheeled toward the door behind them, but it,

too, swung wide, and two more of the black-cloaked monsters

48 The Talismans of Shannara

appeared. Both ends of the corridor were blocked now, and Par

Ohmsford and Padishar Creel were trapped.

“The Mole!” Padishar swore, certain they had been be-

trayed.

But Par did not hear him. The Seekers rushed to seize them,

and the magic of the wishsong exploded in the sound of his

warning cry, filling the tower with fury. It enveloped him like

a whirlwind, pressing him back against an astonished Padishar.

He fought to contain it, but it overpowered him effortlessly.

Then it broke away in shards of white-hot fire that flew at the

Shadowen. The black figures threw up their arms, but the

wishsong’s magic tore through them and they were turned to

ash. Par screamed, unable to help himself, and the wishsong

broke through the walls like a flood through a dam, shattering

mortared seams and blowing holes through the stone. Padishar

flinched away, then grabbed at Par in desperation and hauled

him bodily through the second door, slamming it shut behind

them.

Par dropped to his knees, the wishsong silent once more.

“\ … I can’t breathe!” he gasped.

Padishar yanked him to his feet. “Par! Shades, lad! What’s

happening to you? What’s wrong? ”

Par shook his head in despair. The magic’s evolution contin-

ued unchecked within him. Substantive again, not imaginary.

Brin’s magic, not Jair’s. A fire he could not control, smolder-

ing, waiting …

His hands clasped the other’s arms and his breath returned,

a cooling within that stilled the madness. “Find Damson!” he

hissed. “Maybe she’s here, Padishar! Find her!”

There were shouts all about, the cries of Federation soldiers

rushing along the ramparts and into the watchtower. Padishar

grasped Par’s tunic and dragged the Valeman after him as he

hurried along a hall studded with heavy wooden doors, all

locked and barred.

“Damson!” the big man called frantically.

Behind them, beyond the door through which they had fled,

Par thought he heard the whisper of Shadowen robes.

“They’re coming!” he warned, feeling the heat of the

wishsong’s magic beginning to build again.

“Damson!” Padishar Creel howled.

The Talismans of Shannara 49

There was a muffled reply from behind one of the doors.

Releasing Par, the leader of the free-bom rushed on, calling out

his daughter’s name. The reply came again, and he skidded to

a stop. The broadsword rose and fell, hacking at one of the

doors. Shouts rose from a stairwell at the far end of the corri-

dor. Padishar hammered at the door with several jarring

strokes, then threw himself at what remained, his shoulder

lowered. The door flew off its hinges and Padishar disappeared

inside.

Par rushed to the opening and stopped. Padishar was back

on his feet, bloodied and dazed, and Damson Rhee was hug-

ging him, red hair dusty and tangled, her pale face smudged

with dirt. Her eyes were all fire as they swept up to find the

Valeman.

“Par,” she breathed softly, and rushed to hold him.

The hallway behind was filled with the sound of armed

men. Par turned to meet the attack, but Padishar Creel was past

him in an instant and into the corridor. There was a chilling

clash of weapons.

“Par!” the big man called. “Take her and run!”

Without thinking. Par grabbed Damson’s arm and pulled her

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