The Scions of Shannara

I have to do something!

Morgan Leah felt leaden. He must leave Steff and get to Padishar Creel at once. If his suspicions about Teel were correct, she had to be found and stopped.

If.

The horror of what he was thinking knotted in his throat—that Teel could be the very worst of the enemies that had hunted them all since Culhaven, that she could have deceived them so completely, especially Steff, who believed that he owed her his life and who was in love with her. The knot tightened. He knew that the horror he felt didn’t come from the possibility of betrayal—it came from the certainty of it.

Steff saw something of that horror mirrored in his eyes and grappled angrily with him. “Where is she, Morgan? You know! I can see it!”

Morgan did not try to break away. Instead, he faced his friend and said, “I think I know. But you have to wait here, Steff. You have to let me go after her.”

“No.” Steff shook his head adamantly, his scarred face knotting. “I’m going with you.”

“You can’t. You’re too sick . . .”

“I’m going, Morgan! Now where is she?”

The Dwarf was shaking with fever, but Morgan knew that he was not going to be able to free himself unless he did so by force. “All right,” he agreed, taking a slow breath. “This way.”

He put his arm under his friend to support him and started into the dark. He could not leave Steff behind, even knowing how difficult it would make things having his friend along. He would simply do what he must in spite of him. He stumbled suddenly and fought his way back to his feet, hauling Steff up with him, not having seen the coil of rope that lay on the ground in his path. He forced himself to slow, realizing as he did so that he hadn’t even taken time yet to think through what he had surmised. Teel was the traitor. He must accept that. Steff could not, but he must. Teel was the one . . .

He stopped himself.

No. Not Teel. Don’t call that thing Teel. Teel is dead. Or close enough to being dead that there is no distinction to be made. So, not Teel. The Shadowen that hid in Teel.

His breathing grew rapid as he hastened through the night, Steff clinging to him. The Shadowen must have left her body and taken Hirehone’s in order to follow Padishar’s little company to Tyrsis and betray it to the Federation. Then it had abandoned Hirehone’s body, returned to the camp, killed the watch because it could not ascend the Jut unseen, and reinhabited Teel. Steff had never realized what was happening. He had believed Teel poisoned. The Shadowen had let him think as much. It had even managed to cast suspicion on Hirehone with that tale of following him to the bluff before falling into unconsciousness. He wondered how long Teel had been a Shadowen. A long time, he decided. He pictured her in his mind, nothing more than a shell, a hollow skin, and his teeth ground at the image. He remembered Par’s description of what it had been like when the Shadowen on Toffer Ridge, the one who had taken the body of the little girl, had tried to come into him. He remembered the horror and revulsion the Valeman had expressed. That was what it must have been like for Teel.

There was no further time to consider the matter. They were approaching the main cave. The entrance was ablaze with torchlight. Padishar Creel stood there. The outlaw chief was awake, just as Morgan had hoped he would be, brilliant in his scarlet clothing, talking with the men who cared for the sick and injured, his broadsword and long knives strapped in place.

“What are you doing?” Steff cried angrily. “This is between you and me, Morgan! Not him!”

But Morgan ignored his protestations, dragging him into the light. Padishar Creel turned as the two men staggered up to him and caught hold of them by the shoulders.

“Whoa, now, lads—slow down! What’s the reason for charging about in the dark like this?” The other man’s grip tightened as Steff tried to break free, and the rough voice lowered. “Careful, now. Your eyes say something’s frightened you. Let’s keep it to ourselves. What’s happened?”

Steff was with anger, and his eyes were hard. Morgan hesitated. The others in Padishar’s company were looking at them curiously, and they were close enough to hear what he might say. He smiled disarmingly. “I think I’ve found the person you’ve been looking for,” he said to the big man.

Padishar’s face went taut momentarily, then quickly relaxed. “Ah, that’s all, is it?” He spoke as much to his men as to them, his voice almost joking. “Well, well, come on outside a minute and tell me about it.” He put his arm about their shoulders as if all was well, waved to those listening, and steered the Highlander and the Dwarf outside.