and without warning his suspicions flared anew. Damson
Rhee—was she the friend that Par believed or the enemy he
sought so desperately to escape. Certainly she could have been
the reason he’d had so many narrow escapes, the reason the
Shadowen had almost trapped him so many times. But then,
too, wasn’t she also the reason he had escaped?
“You’re not certain of me, are you? ” she asked quietly.
“No,” he admitted. “I’m not.”
She nodded. “I don’t know what I can do to convince you,
Morgan. I don’t know that I even want to try. I have to spend
whatever energy is left me finding a way to free Padishar.
Then I will go in search of Par.”
He looked away into the trees, thinking of the dark suspi-
cions that the Shadowen bred in all of them, wishing it could
be otherwise. “When I was at the Jut with Padishar,” he said,
“I was forced to kill a girl who was really a Shadowen.” He
looked back at her. “Her name was Teel. My friend Steff was
in love with her, and it cost him his life.”
He told her then of Teel’s betrayals and the eventual con-
frontation deep within the’ catacombs of the mountains behind
the Jut where he had killed the Shadowen who had been Teel
and saved Padishar Creel’s life.
“What frightens me,” he said, “is that you could be another
Teel and Par could end up like Steff.”
She did not respond, her gaze distant and lost. She might
have been looking right through him. There were tears in her
eyes.
102 The Talismans of Shannara
He reached back suddenly and drew out the Sword of Lean.
Damson watched him without moving, her green eyes fixing
on the gleaming blade as he placed it point downward in the
earth between them, his hands fastened on the pommel.
“Put your hands on the flat of the blade. Damson,” he said
softly.
She looked at him without answering, and for a long time
she did not move. He waited, listening to the distant sounds of
the free-bom as they gathered for dinner, listening to the si-
lence closer at hand. The light was fading rapidly now, and
there were shadows all about. He felt oddly removed from ev-
erything about him, as if he were frozen in time with Damson
Rhee.
Not this girl, he found himself praying. Not again.
At last she reached out and touched the Sword of Leah, her
palms tight against the metal. Then she deliberately closed her
fingers about the edge. Morgan watched in horror as the blade
cut deep into her flesh, and her blood began to trickle down its
length.
“A Shadowen couldn’t do that, could it? ” she whispered.
He reached down quickly and pried her fingers away. “No,”
he said. “Not without triggering the magic.” He lay the talis-
man aside, tore strips of cloth from his cloak, and began to
bind her hands. “You didn’t have to do that,” he reproached
her.
Her smile was faint and wistful. “Didn’t I? Would you have
been sure of me otherwise, Morgan Leah? I don’t think so.
And if you’re not sure of me, how can we be of help to each
other? There has to be trust between us.” She fixed him with
her gentle eyes. “Is there now? ”
He nodded quickly. “Yes. I’m sorry. Damson.”
Her bound hands reached up to clasp his own. “Let me tell
you something.” The tears were back in her eyes. “You said
that your friend Steff was in love with Teel? Well, Highlander,
I am in love with Par Ohmsford.”
He saw it all then, the reason she had stayed with Par, had
given herself so completely to him, following him even into
the Pit, watching over him, protecting him- It was what he
would have done—had tried to do—for Quickening. Damson
Rhee had made a commitment that only death would release.
The Talismans of Shannara 103
“I’m sorry,” he said again, thinking how inadequate it
sounded.
Her hands tightened on his and did not let go. They faced
each other m the dusk without speaking for a long time. As