Talismans of Shannara by Terry Brooks

to go back for Padishar. But Coil’s my brother.”

She moved so that she could see his face. Her eyes searched

his and did not look away. “You’ve made up your mind about

this, haven’t you? ” She looked terrified. “This is probably a

trap, you know.”

His smile was bitter. “I know.”

She blinked rapidly. “And I can’t come with you.”

“I know that, too. You have to continue on to Firerim Reach

and get help for your father. I understand.”

There were tears in her eyes. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“I don’t want to leave you either.”

“Are you sure it was Coil? Absolutely sure? ”

“As sure as I am that I love you. Damson.”

She brought her arms about him again. She didn’t speak, but

buried her face in his shoulder. He could feel her crying. He

could feel himself breaking apart inside. The euphoria of find-

ing Paranor was gone, the discovery itself all but forgotten.

76 The Talismans of Shannara

The sense of peace and contentment he had experienced so

briefly on getting free of Tyrsis was buried in his past.

He pulled away again. “I’ll come back to you,” he said qui-

etly. “Wherever you are, I’ll find you.”

She bit at her lower lip, nodding. Then she fumbled through

her clothing, reaching down the front of her tunic. A moment

later she pulled forth a thin, flat metal disk with a hole in it

through which a leather cord had been threaded and then tied

about her neck. She looked at the disk a moment, then at him.

“This is called a Skree,” she said. “It is a kind of magic, a

street magic. It was given to me a long time ago.” There was

fire in the look she gave him. “It can only be used once.”

Then she took the disk in both hands and snapped it in two

as easily as she might a brittle stick. She handed the loose half

to him. “Take it and bind it about your neck. Wear it always.

The halves will seek each other out. When the metal glows, it

will tell us we are close. The brighter it becomes, the closer we

will be.”

She pressed the broken half of the disk into his hands. “That

is how I will find you again. Par. And I will never stop look-

ing.”

He closed his fingers about the disk. He felt as if a pit had

opened beneath him and was about to swallow him up. “I’m

sorry. Damson,” he whispered. “I don’t want to do this. I

would keep my promise if I could. But Coil’s alive, and I

can’t—”

“No.” She put her fingers against his lips to silence him.

“Don’t say anything more. I understand. I love you.”

He kissed her and held her against him, memorizing the

touch and feel of her until he was certain the memory was

burned into him. Then he released her, retrieved the scabbard

for the Sword, picked up his blanket, rolled it up, and slung it

over his shoulder.

“I’ll come back to you,” he repeated. “I promise I will.”

She nodded without speaking and would not look away, so

he turned from her instead and hurried off into the trees.

VIII

Sy was nearing midaftemoon of the day following the sep-

• aration of Par and Damson when Morgan Leah at last

w came in sight of the borderland city of Varfleet. The sum-

mer was drifting toward autumn now, and the days were long

and slow and filled with heat that arrived with the sun and lin-

gered on until well after dark. The Highlander stood on a rise

north of the city and looked down at the jumble of buildings

and crooked streets and thought that nothing would ever be the

same for him again.

It had been more than two weeks since he had parted com-

pany with Walker Boh—the Dark Uncle gone in search of

Paranor, the Black Elfstone his key to the gates of time and

distance that locked away the castle of the Druids, and the

Highlander come looking for Padishar Creel and the Ohmsford

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