entire entrance collapsed.
Walker lurched away into the tunnel, choking and coughing
from me dust and smoke. Twice he glanced back to make cer-
tain that nothing followed.
But he was alone.
He was besieged by doubts and fears as he made his way
back to the Keep through the tunnels, assailed by demons that
bore the faces of his enemies. It seemed as if he could hear his
Shadowen pursuers even here, come down into the earth to fin-
ish what they had started. Death, War, Pestilence, and
Famine—what was rock and earth to them? Could they not
penetrate anywhere? What was to keep them out?
But they did not come, for, notwithstanding the forms and
identities they had assumed, they were not invincible and not
truly the incarnations they pretended to be. He had heard them
cry out in pain; he had felt their substance. The numbness in
his hand and arm was beginning to recede, and he welcomed
the tingling gratefully, feeling anew the pain of loss of his
other limb, wishing he could live that part of his life over
again.
He wondered how much more of himself he would be
forced to cede before this struggle was over. Wasn’t he lucky
just to be alive? How narrow his escape from the Shadowen
had been this time!
And then suddenly it occurred to him that perhaps he hadn’t
really escaped anything. Perhaps he had been allowed to es-
cape. Perhaps the Horsemen had only been toying with him.
Hadn’t they had enough chances to kill him if they wanted to?
It seemed on reflection that they might have been trying to
scare him rather than kill him, to instill enough fear in him that
he would be unable to function at all once he was back within
the Druid’s Keep.
But he discarded the idea almost immediately. It was ridic-
The Talismans of Shannara 113
ulous to think that they wouldn’t have killed him if they could.
They had simply tried and failed. He had possessed enough
skill and magic to save himself even in the confusion of an
ambush, and he would take what comfort he could from that.
Aching and worn, he reentered Paranor’s walls and made his
way back into the Keep. Cogline would be waiting. He would
have to confess his failure to the old man. The thought trou-
bled him, and he was aware that it was his preconception of
the invincibility of the Druids that stood in the way of accept-
ance. But he could not afford pride. He was a novice still. He
was just beginning to learn.
Slowly the fears and doubts dropped away, and the demons
disappeared. There would be another day, he promised—
another time and place in which to deal with the Horsemen.
When it came, he would be ready.
XI
CgnPorgan Leah explained his plan to rescue Padishar
f I • Creel to Damson Rhee and Chandos during dinner.
I^AJi He pulled them aside where they would not be over-
heard, huddling on the open bluff about their food and drink,
listening to the night sounds and watching the stars brighten in
the darkening sky while they talked. He first had Damson re-
late again the particulars of her own escape from the city, let-
ting her tell the story as she chose, glancing back and forth
between the giri and the fierce-looking free-bom. When she
had finished, he set his empty plate aside—he had consumed
everything while she talked—and leaned forward intently.
“They will expect a rescue attempt,” he advised softly, glan-
cing at each in turn. “They know we won’t just give up on
him. They know how important he is to us. But they will not
expect us to come at them the same way. They will expect a
different approach this time—a major effort involving a large
number of men maybe, a diversion of some sort perhaps lead-
ing to an all-out assault. They will expect us to try to catch
them off guard. So we have to give them something other than
what they’re looking for before they realize what it is they’re
seeing.”
Chandos snorted. “Are you making any sense, High-