by Brandon Mull
Jason considered the message. With all of these soldiers around, it would be an ideal opportunity for Ferrin to backstab him. Even if the displacer really had burned bridges with Maldor, might he not view this as a chance to repair the damage?
Jason began tracing letters. I FOUND AN ALLY. HE WILL HELP ME GET AWAY.
Who?
BETTER NOT SAY.
I understand your reluctance. Yet I swear I am laboring for your welfare. I have no illusions that nabbing you would offset my crimes. Maldor does not forgive traitors. He would never let me live given what I know. I never had many friends. I want to join you and help you.
WISH I COULD TRUST YOU. I LOOK FORWARD TO THAT DAY. NOW IS NOT THE TIME.
Let me supply some free information to inspire a little faith. The port is under heavy scrutiny, as are the three city gates. You must find a different way out of town. At least one other displacer is in the vicinity, along with many conscriptors and droves of common soldiers.
THANKS. WE WILL BE CAREFUL.
One more thing. The name of your ally is Aram.
Jason stared at the hand in shock. How could he respond without giving away too much?
WHY DO YOU SAY THAT?
I still have my sources. The Dockside Inn has always been a reliable well of information.
ARE YOU THREATENING ME?
This is not a threat. I am trying to create an opportunity for you to trust me. I already have the intelligence I need if I meant to turn you in. I know you are here in Ithilum. I know you have hired Aram to assist you. I know the secrets you carry. And I am across the street.
Could it be true? Jason deliberated how to respond.
Look out a window.
The guest room window commanded a view of the street. Jason sidled over to it and peered outside. Ferrin stood below on the far side of the cobblestone road, arms folded, a patch over one eye, a scruffy beard on his chin. He wore a broad-brimmed hat tilted at a rakish angle. The displacer met his gaze and gave a faint nod.
Jason backed away from the window. WHAT NOW?
Aram has a respectable reputation. But you will need more than a muscle-bound smuggler if you hope to evade a lurker for long. You need my help. This is for your own good. See you in a moment.
A second peek out the window revealed Ferrin crossing the street toward the front door. Flustered, Jason dashed from the room and clomped down the stairs. Moira came out of the kitchen into the entry hall, sleeves rolled back, hands powdered with flour. “What is it?” the little woman asked.
There came a brisk knock at the door.
“An old friend has tracked me down,” Jason said.
She blanched. “Is he trustworthy?”
“I hope so. I think so. I didn’t invite him. He tracked me on his own. He came here instead of turning us in. At this point, our only choice is to speak with him.”
Moira motioned Jason out of sight and cracked the door. “Yes?”
“My close friend is visiting you,” Ferrin said politely. “May I intrude?”
Moira glanced at Jason, who nodded. She pulled the door wide, and Ferrin entered.
“We meet again,” Ferrin said, grinning. He swept off his hat and tossed it like a Frisbee onto a sofa in the parlor. Striding forward, he embraced Jason, who returned the hug uncertainly. Then the displacer bowed to Moira.
“Are you going to introduce us?” he prompted Jason.
Jason felt off-balance. “Ferrin, this is Moira. Moira, meet Ferrin.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” Ferrin said. Turning to Jason, he raised an arm that ended at the wrist. “Can you lend me a hand?”
“A displacer?” Moira gasped, raising fingers to her lips.
“Have no fear, I have gone renegade. The emperor is my enemy. I mean you no harm. In fact, I intend to offer vital assistance. Does she know who you are?”
Jason nodded.
“I’m an old comrade of Lord Jason. I rescued him from—”
The door to the cellar burst open, and Aram emerged, hair mussed from sleeping, a long, slightly curved knife in one small hand. His eyes went from Ferrin to Jason and back. “What’s going on?”
“Who’s that?” Ferrin asked.
“My son, Burt,” Moira said.
“Who are you?” Aram challenged.
“Is he in on all of this?” Ferrin mumbled.
Jason nodded.
“As I was explaining to your mother, I’m Ferrin the displacer, a former servant of the emperor who went renegade after I smuggled Lord Jason out of the dungeons of Felrook. I’m here to help him flee Ithilum, no small task considering the host assembling to apprehend him.”
Knife pointed at Ferrin, Aram glanced at Jason. “Does he speak the truth?”
“As far as I know,” Jason said. “He helped me escape from Felrook, and today he located us on his own. If he wanted to turn us in, he could have already done it.”
Aram snorted. “Unless he counts on you leading him to bigger game. No displacer can be trusted.”
“There is no larger quarry than Lord Jason in all of Lyrian,” Ferrin replied. He turned to Jason. “I understood you were working with Aram.”
“What do you know of Aram?” Aram asked.
“Only his reputation.”
“What reputation is that?”
Ferrin made a vague gesture. “He was arguably the most reliable mercenary in the business before he retired. He stayed out of imperial matters. He was cautious, smart; a survivor. To be candid, Aram was savvy enough to steer clear of somebody like Jason. I question whether he sincerely means to help. I take it you’re a colleague?”
“I’m his brother,” Aram said.
Ferrin raised his eyebrows. “Evidently he used up all the size in the family. Where is your brother now? He must realize that he could make more money with less risk by handing Jason over to the authorities.”
“My brother values nothing above his reputation. He has never double-crossed a client after accepting a job. He only came out of retirement because he believes in this cause.”
Ferrin glanced at Jason. “Money has been exchanged?”
“A lot of money,” Jason said.
Ferrin nodded pensively. “I can’t fathom how you convinced Aram to commit. But I’ve learned not to underestimate you. Very well. I repeat the question, Burt. Where exactly is your brother?”
“Out scouting,” Aram said, still holding the long knife warily. “He knows about the hunt for Jason, and he is exploring our options.”
Ferrin gave a nod. “The three gates out of town are heavily manned. The port is full of eyes. Clever deception will be required to smuggle Jason away.”
“We’re aware of the complications,” Aram said.
Ferrin narrowed his eyes. “I’ve never heard of a brother. Do you work with Aram often?”
“For years I served as his cabin boy.”
“Ah. The infamous cabin boy. It wasn’t Burt back then.”
“I went by Goya.”
Ferrin’s lips twitched. “Brothers. I had no idea. Can you speak on his behalf?”
“Aram may have the size, but we’re equal partners.”
“Fair enough. We should counsel together. I mean to help Jason, so we should factor my services into your plans. As a displacer and a former servant of the emperor, I can do much to help you avoid capture.”
Aram shook his head. “I don’t work with limb droppers. Help from your kind tends to end badly. Mother?”
Moira had quietly sidled toward the kitchen. Reaching around the corner, she retrieved a heavy crossbow. The weapon almost looked too large for her, but she leveled it coolly at Ferrin.
“I admire your caution,” Ferrin said. “Avoiding displacers in these types of arrangements is good for longevity. But every rule has an exception.”
Without warning, Ferrin dove and rolled across the floor toward Moira. She fired the crossbow, but the quarrel hissed over his head, and he whipped her legs out from under her with a sweeping kick. Aram
charged.
Wrenching the crossbow from Moira’s grasp, Ferrin used it to parry Aram’s long knife, then sent him to the floor with a sharp kick to the chest. While Aram scrambled to his feet, long knife still in hand, Ferrin drew a dagger and brought it to Moira’s throat.
Jason stood paralyzed with shock and uncertainty. Aram glared from Jason to Ferrin.
“You have a reputation for knifework, Goya,” Ferrin said. “I have some experience myself.”
“This is no way to win friends,” Aram spat.
“This is precisely how to court allies under hostile circumstances,” Ferrin argued. “I was prepared to be civil. You and your mother pulled weapons on me. If I keep the upper hand, hopefully I can show that I mean you no harm.”
“I’ll never trust you,” Aram growled, knuckles white as he clenched the long knife.
“I just need you to work with me. You and Aram know this city. I am willing to believe you can get Jason out. Unfortunately, a lurker is involved. Even with my assistance, Jason will probably be taken. Without my aid, his downfall is certain.”
Aram looked over at Jason. “What do you say?”
“Ferrin has faked friendship in the past. He’s a patient liar. On the other hand, he could have shown up here with soldiers and apprehended us. He has lots of talents. If he’s really on our side, he would be useful.”
“Put the knife down,” Aram said. “You have my word that you’ll leave here unmolested.”
“Finish the conversation first,” Ferrin replied. “Forgive me if I’m slow to rely on the word of a smuggler. We must reach an accord. I insist on helping Jason.”
“Do you have his hand, Jason?” Moira asked, heedless of the blade at her throat. “When he entered, the limb dropper seemed to suggest you had it.”
“I have it,” Jason said.
“It may be all he wants,” Moira pointed out. “He may only be waiting to turn us in until his hand is returned.”
“If all I wanted was the hand, I could have brought guardsmen and taken it,” Ferrin said. “I’m not after money, either. My services come free. I’ve betrayed the emperor for the sake of my friendship with Jason. My only place now is with the resistance.”
“Tell you what,” Aram said. “I still haven’t arranged for horses. Can you meet us at a rendezvous with three fresh mounts?”
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Certainly.”
“One must be large enough to carry Aram.”
“And a fourth for myself.”
“I won’t be coming,” Aram said. “Just Aram and Jason.”
“So the third is for me. How thoughtful.”
“Aram will inspect the area. He’s good. If you’re there with the horses, and no enemies lie in ambush, you’ll get your hand back.”
Ferrin scowled. “I would hate to be left standing alone in the dark all night.”
“You have my oath. Some degree of trust is required. This role is vital. It will fill a gaping need. You will find it difficult to obtain the horses without arousing suspicion. Do we have your word?”
“Naturally.”
“Say it,” Aram pressed.
“You have my word of honor.”
The promise made Jason edgy. He knew Ferrin was willing to lie when it suited his purposes.
“There are several groves inland from the cove north of town,” Aram described. “One has an old well at the center. It’s been in disrepair ever since the water became brackish. Meet us there.”
“Done. I apologize, Moira, for holding you at knifepoint.”
“I’ll forgive you once you prove yourself true,” she responded.
“Don’t forget, you did pull a crossbow on me.” Ferrin stepped away from her, knife ready, eyes on Aram. He retrieved his hat. “Until tonight.” He backed to the door and let himself out.
Aram hurried over to Moira. She was standing up. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she said. “He could have been much more vicious when he took me down. Under the circumstances, he was almost gentle.”
“Lucky for his sake.” Aram glanced at Jason. “You have charming friends.”
“I’m a Beyonder,” Jason apologized. “I met Ferrin before I knew what displacers were.”
“How did he find us?”
“He’s a spy,” Jason said. “It’s what he does. He said he asked around at the Dockside Inn.”
“You have his hand?”
“I stole it when he forced me to return to the Beyond. I used it to keep in touch with him from there.”
Aram opened the front door, checked up and down the street, then withdrew. “How much do you trust him?”
“About as much as you do,” Jason said. “I expect he’ll follow through with the horses. But I’m not sure I want to lead him to Galloran.”
“How would you feel about completely avoiding his assistance?”
Jason thought about it. Ferrin might be sincere. But the displacer had suckered him before. No matter how much help Ferrin could provide, there was a real chance it would end with a double-cross. “Might be safer.”
“Good. Because we’re not exiting town where I described. I’m a man of my word, but I’m willing to make an exception when some limb dropper has a knife to my mother’s throat. Besides, no money changed hands.”
“He’s lied to me before,” Jason said. “It was how we ended up traveling together.”
“Yet he really freed you from Felrook?” Moira asked.
“He did,” Jason confirmed. “He took a huge risk with nothing to gain. It was the sort of thing only a real friend would do. It’s possible he really means to help us.”
“Any doubt is too much when displacers are involved,” Aram said. “We need to leave this house now. There’s a secret back exit. I have many hideaways around town.”
“I’ll gather my things,” Moira said.
“How do you plan to sneak us out of town if the gates and port are covered?” Jason asked Aram.
“We’ll stage a couple of diversions, then sneak under the wall.”
“Under the wall?”
Aram grinned. “How long can you hold your breath?”
The streets of Ithilum quieted as the shadows of evening deepened. Jason followed several paces behind Aram, who had regained his imposing physique at sunset. Wearing trousers and sturdy sandals that Aram had purchased, along with a hat and a brown cloak, Jason felt much less conspicuous than he had in his jeans. Glancing back down the avenue that sloped up from the sea, Jason saw several people moving about. Out on the point of the reef, a fiery beacon flared. Scattered tendrils of mist shone in the distant firelight.
Earlier in the evening Aram had escorted Jason and Moira to a hidden room less than a block from their townhome. He had reviewed several options with his mother regarding resources she could access, including people who could help her and places she could go. He then requested some additional money and jewels from Jason to pay some bribes.
After Aram became tall and strong again, he set off to perform some final errands. Moments ago, he had returned and exchanged solemn but tearless farewells with his mother, who beamed up at her son after their final embrace.
Jason had almost lost it watching them say good-bye. His throat had constricted, and tears had threatened. It saddened him to think that the half giant would probably never see his mother again. They were obviously close.
The farewell had turned his thoughts to his own parents. Sure, he wasn’t especially tight with his mom and dad, but they wanted the best for him and he still loved them. They had worked hard to get him back after he had vanished the first time. They had to be devastated thinking he had been devoured by a hippo. And they might never learn otherwise. At least he knew that his family was home and safe. With a little luck, he might find Rachel and eventually make it back to them.
Up ahead, Aram rounded a corner. When Jason followed him into the alley, Aram stood several paces ahead, gesturing for
him to hurry. Jason sprinted to the big man, who boosted him over a wall before following. They crouched together in a courtyard garden. Aram led Jason stealthily to the far side, passing a pond decorated with floating flowers, and hopped up to peer over the wall.
“Some soldiers behind us were showing too much interest,” Aram whispered before shoving Jason over the wall. Jason dropped to the far side. The big man landed beside him an instant later. They hurried across a road and down another alleyway. Aram led them at a furious pace around numerous corners, keeping to narrow streets and crooked alleys. Soon they stood panting in a shadowy side street that opened onto a main road running along the western wall of the town. A row of shops lined the far side of the road along the base of the wall.
Leaning forward, Aram scanned up and down the street. He tapped Jason on the shoulder and led him across the road. They strolled casually to the door of one of the shops. The windows were dark. Aram knocked three times, paused, and then rapped twice more.
The door opened immediately, and Aram led Jason inside.
The cluttered shop contained an assortment of curiosities and knickknacks. Jason noticed a large trunk completely encrusted with shells. A huge trophy fish bristling with quills hung on one wall.
A hunched figure wearing a clownish mask silently guided Aram and Jason to a door at the rear of the store. Judging by his hands, he appeared to be an old man. He took a sleek harpoon from a rack on the wall and handed it to Aram. From a pocket in his loose, shabby coat, their guide produced a glowing length of seaweed. Aram took the seaweed, opened the door, and led Jason down a rickety flight of wooden stairs that groaned at their passage.
The masked figure closed the door but did not follow.
The deep cellar was a musty maze of stacked crates and indiscernible objects draped in dusty tarps. With quick strides, Aram wove through the clutter to a pyramid of crates in a corner. Winding the seaweed around his thick forearm, Aram began unstacking the wooden boxes, moving them aside until he uncovered a splintered wooden pallet. Raising the heavy pallet, Aram revealed a circular hole in the stone floor protected by a metal grate. Leaving the pallet upended, Aram knelt, produced a key, unlocked the grate, and pulled it open.
