after him through the door. Padishar stood toe to toe with a
knot of Federation soldiers. More appeared in the stairwell be-
yond. The leader of the free-bom threw back the foremost by
sheer strength alone and spun about in fury.
“Drat you, boy—run! Now! Remember our agreement!”
Then the soldiers were on him again, and he was fighting
for his life. Two went down, then another, but there were more
to take their place. Too many. Par thought. Too many to stand
against. He felt his chest tighten. He must help his friend. But
that would mean using the wishsong’s magic, the fire he could
not control. It would mean seeing those men ripped to pieces.
It would mean chancing that Padishar would be ripped to
pieces as well.
And he had given the big man his promise.
“Padishar,” he heard Damson breathe in his ear and felt her
start toward the big man.
Instantly he had hold of her and was dragging her back the
way they had come, away from the fighting. He had made his
choice. “Par!” she screamed in anger, but he shook his head
50 The Talismans of Shannara
no. They reached the closed door. Were there Shadowen be-
hind it? Par could not hear them; he could not hear anything
above the sounds of the battle behind him.
“We can’t leave him!” Damson was screaming.
He pulled her close. “We have to.” Before him, the wooden
door loomed, hiding what lay behind, forbidding and silent. He
braced himself, summoning the wishsong’s magic because this
time there was no choice. The magic stirred, anxious.
Please, he thought, let me keep control of it just this once!
He flung open the door, ready to send the magic careening
down the corridor beyond, white-hot and deadly. Silence
greeted him. Moonlight flooded down through cracks in the
shattered stone. Debris littered the floor. The passage was
empty.
He cast a final look back at the embattled Padishar Creel, a
solitary barrier against the flood of Federation soldiers seeking
to break past. There was no hope for Padishar, he knew. It had
been a trap from the beginning. And the trap was about to
close.
Yet there was still time to save Damson.
As they had agreed they would, whatever the cost.
With Damson still clinging to his arm, he charged ahead into
the empty corridor, leaving Padishar Creel behind.
VI
They were through the stairwell door and back out on the
landing in seconds. A haze of sound and fury rose from
the corridor behind them, where Padishar held the Fed-
eration soldiers at bay.
Par wheeled back and kicked the tower door shut.
Which way?
From below, he could hear the thudding of boots and the
shouts of men as they ascended the stairs. They could not go
down.
“Let go of me!” Damson cried furiously, and yanked free of
him. Her green eyes were bright with tears and anger. “You
left him!”
Par was barely listening. They had to go up, back the way
they had come, back to where the Mole waited. Unless
Padishar had been right and the Mole had indeed betrayed
them. It was possible. The Mole might have been taken days
ago when the Federation had first found them in his lair. But,
no, if he had been taken then, he would not have helped them
escape when they had fled the gristmill; he would have let the
Federation have them and been done with the matter. But what
if he had been caught when he had gone in search of Damson
this last time—taken and subverted, made over into a Sha-
dowen?
Damson was tearing at him. “We have to go back. Par! He
needs us! He’s my father!” Her teeth bared. “He came back for
you!”
Par wheeled on her, grasped her arms, and dragged her so
close that he could feel the heat of her breath on his face. “I’ll
51
52 The Talismans of Shannara
only say this once. I gave him my promise. Whatever else hap-
pened, you were to be gotten safely away. He’s given himself
up for you. Damson, and it is not going to be for nothing!
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