Talismans of Shannara by Terry Brooks

night.

Coil! It had been Coil!

He came to his feet, bewildered and frightened, fighting for

air and balance. What was going on? Had Coil been sent to

kill him after all? Had he tried to choke him to death? He

168 The Talismans of Shannara

watched the dark form disappear into the shadows, lost in the

rocks and trees almost instantly. There was no mistake. It had

been Coll. He was certain of it.

But what was his brother trying to do?

He thought suddenly of the Sword, glanced hurriedly down,

and found it lying untouched next to where he stood. Not the

Sword, he thought. What then?

He groped at his neck, aware suddenly of new pain. His

hand came away wet with blood. He felt again. He found a

collar of bruised, torn flesh. He touched it gingerly, question-

ingly.

And then he realized that the Skree was gone.

His brother had stolen it. He must have seen Par hold it up

while he was hiding out there in the dark. He must have come

down after Par had fallen asleep, crept up on him, pinned him

to the ground, yanked at the leather cord about his neck so that

he choked, bitten it through when nothing else worked, and

carried off Damson’s talisman.

Why?

So that Par would follow him, of course. So that Par would

have to give chase.

The Valeman stood staring after his brother, after the thing

his brother had become, stunned. In the silence of his mind it

seemed he could hear the other cry out to him.

Help me, Coil was saying.

Help me.

XV

When it grew light enough to see. Par went after his

brother. Sunrise was early, the day clear and bright,

and the trail Coil left easy to follow once again. Par

redoubled his efforts, pushing himself harder than before, de-

termined that this time Coil would not get away. They were

deep within the Runne Mountains by now, hemmed in by can-

yon walls as they followed the Mermidon south, and there was

little room for deviation. Nevertheless, Coil continued to wan-

der away from the riverbank as if searching for a way out.

Sometimes he would get almost half a mile before the moun-

tains blocked his path. Once he was able to climb to a low

ridge and follow it south for several miles before it dead-ended

at another cliff face and turned him aside. Each time Par was

forced to follow so as not to lose the trail, afraid that if he sim-

ply kept to the riverbank Coil would double back. The effort

of the pursuit drained him of his strength, and the muggy,

windless air made him light-headed. The day passed, sunset

came, and still he had not found Coll.

He fished for his dinner that night, using the hook and line

from the trading center, cooked and ate his catch, and left what

remained—a more than generous portion—on a flat rock several

dozen feet off from where he slept. He was awake most of the

night, hearing and seeing things that weren’t there, dozing infre-

quently and fitfully. He did not see Coil once. When he woke,

he found the fish gone—but it might have been eaten by wild

animals. He didn’t think so, but there was no way to be sure.

For the next three days he continued his pursuit, working his

way downriver, edging steadily closer to the Rainbow Lake

169

170 The Talismans of Shannara

and Southwatch. He began to worry that he was not going to

catch up to Coil until it was too late. Somehow his brother was

managing to keep just ahead of him, even with his diminished

capacity to reason, even in his half-Shadowen state. Coil was

not thinking clearly, not choosing the easiest or quickest paths,

not bothering to hide his tracks, not doing anything but some-

how managing to keep just out of reach. It was frustrating and

troubling at once. It seemed inevitable that he would find Coil

too late to help him—or perhaps even to help himself, if the

Shadowen discovered them. If Rimmer Dall found Coil first,

what was Par supposed to do then? Use the Sword of

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