Talismans of Shannara by Terry Brooks

said, and proceeded to describe it in detail—the hills with their

carpets of blue, lavender, and yellow grasses and flowers, the

streams that turned frosty at dawn and blood-red at dusk, the

mist that came and went with the changing seasons, the forests

and the meadows, the sense of peace and timelessness. The

Highlands were his passion, the more so since his departure

weeks earlier. It reminded him again how much home meant to

him, even a home that was really no longer his now that the

Federation occupied it—though in truth, he thought, it was still

more his than theirs because he kept the feel of it with him in

his mind and its history was in his blood and that would never

be true for them.

She was silent for a time when he finished, then said, “I like

how you describe your home. I like how you feel about it. If

I lived there, I think I would feel the same.”

The Talismans of Shannara 93

“You wouM,” he assured her, studying the profile of her

face as she stared out across the Rabb, distracted. “But I guess

everyone feels that way about their home.”

‘1 don’t,” she said.

He straightened up again. “Why not? ”

Her forehead furrowed. It produced only a slight marring of

her smooth features but gave her an entirely different look, one

at once both introspective and distant. “I suppose it’s because

I have no good memories of home. I was born on a small farm

south of Varfleet, one of several families that occupied a val-

ley. I lived there with my parents and my brothers and one sis-

ter. I was the youngest. We raised milk cows and grain. In

summer, the fields would be as gold as the sun. In fall, the

earth would be all black after it was plowed.” She shrugged. “I

don’t remember much other than that. Just the sickness. It

seems a long rime ago, but I guess k wasn’t. The land went

bad first, then the stock, and finally my family. Everything be-

gan to die. Everyone. My sister first, then my mother, my

brothers, and my father. It was the same with the people who

lived on the other farms. It happened all at once. Everyone was

dead in a few months. One of the women on the other farms

found me and took me to Varfleet to live with her. We were

the last. I was six years old.”

She made it all sound as if it were nothing out of the ordi-

nary. There was no emotion in her voice. She finished and

looked away. “I think there might be some rain on the way,”

she said.

They slept until dawn, ate a breakfast of bread, fruit, and

cheese, and began their trek north again. The skies were cloud-

ing when they woke, and a short time after they crossed the

Rabb it began to rain. Thunderheads built up, and lightning

streaked the blacjaiess. When the rain began to come down in

torrents, they took shelter in the lee of an old maple set back

against a rocky rise. Brushing water from their faces and

clothes, they settled back to wait out the storm. The air cooled

slightly, and the plains shimmered with the damp.

Shoulder to shoulder, they sat with their backs against the

maple, staring out into the haze, listening to the sound of the

rain.

94 The Talismans of Shannara

“How did you meet Padishar? ” Moigan asked her after they

had been quiet for a time.

She brought her knees up and wrapped her arms about them.

Water beaded on her skin and glistened in her black hair. “I

apprenticed to Hirehone when I was old enough to work. He

taught me to forge iron and to fight. After a while I was better

than he was at both. So he brought me into the Movement, and

that’s how I met Padishar.”

Memories of Hirehone crowded Morgan’s mind. He let them

linger a moment and then banished them. “How long have you

been looking after the Whistledown? ”

“A couple of years. It offers an opportunity to learn things

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