by Brandon Mull
Jason shrugged. “My instincts say yes. He did everything Galloran asked, and had plenty of chances before that to turn me in.”
“We’re heading for the Sunken Lands?”
“Yep, then on to the Seven Vales to see if the Amar Kabal will help Galloran fight Maldor.”
Rachel nodded quietly. “You and Ferrin know a way home?”
“Yeah.”
“Have you thought about maybe … I don’t know …”
“Ditching everyone and having Ferrin take us to the cave?”
She shrugged.
Jason considered the idea. He had found Rachel. He had informed Galloran that the Word was phony. What more could he achieve by remaining in Lyrian? He was no warrior. This might be a smart time to bow out and let the experts run the rebellion.
Then again, he had a hard time picturing himself back home with so much left undone in Lyrian. He had managed to be useful so far. What if he could still make a difference here? Wouldn’t he always wonder how it all turned out?
“We’d have to fully trust Ferrin,” he said. “The way home is deep in enemy territory. We’d be at his mercy. Believe me, we don’t want to get caught.”
Rachel nodded. “I’m not saying we should try it. I’m mostly just glad to hear there’s a way. We can stress about it later. Looks like crossing this bridge has to come before anything.” She stood and offered Jason a hand. He accepted it, and she helped him rise, his blankets tucked under one arm.
“I’m glad you found us,” Jason said. “I was so worried.”
“You were worried?” she replied, hitting him on the arm. “I thought you were being tortured inside of Felrook this whole time!”
Jason chuckled. “Since we split up, I’ve mostly been watching movies, playing video games, and reffing Little League.”
She swatted him again.
“Hey!” he complained, backing away. “It wasn’t my fault! I got back as soon as I could.”
Hands on her hips, her expression softened. “You did come back for me.”
By her tone of voice, he could tell she was thanking him. “What are friends for?” He wanted to pick her up and spin her around, he felt so relieved.
Tark came tromping over to them. “We’re going to start moving into position.”
“What’s the plan?” Jason asked.
“You, Rachel, and I will ride with Galloran and Dorsio. We’re in charge of the horses. We’ll each lead one.”
“Even Galloran?” Rachel asked.
“He’ll stay toward the rear during the charge,” Tark explained. “He’ll trust his horse to stay on the road and follow the others. He may be blind, but he’s an experienced rider.”
“We’re riding up along the road?” Jason asked.
“Drake and Aram will hit the bridge on this side, first with orantium, then with sword and bow. Nedwin, Ferrin, and Chandra will do the same on the far side of the bridge. If all goes as planned, the fight should be over by the time we reach the bridge.”
“We’re just the getaway,” Rachel said.
Tark nodded.
“Can we blow the bridge after we cross?” Jason asked. “You know, mess up the pursuit?”
“Chandra asked the same thing,” Tark said. “The bridge was built to last. I agree with Aram and Ferrin that the orantium explosives aren’t strong enough to bring it down, at least not without some prep work. Give me three days and some tools, it might be a different story.”
“How do we know when to move?” Jason asked.
“The others will strike right after the moon sets,” Tark related. “We start for the bridge when we hear the first explosion. If needed, we’ll help mop up when we get there.”
Tark led them over to the horses. Dorsio and Galloran sat astride their mounts, each holding a lead to another horse.
“Crazy about Aram,” Rachel said.
“The giant thing?” Jason checked.
“Makes me wonder what else we don’t know about the types of people in this world.”
Jason nodded. “After the lurkers, I think I’ve learned enough.”
“Shall we move into position?” Galloran asked.
Jason, Tark, and Rachel mounted up. Tark explained which horse each of them would be taking, giving the appropriate lead to Jason and to Rachel. Jason had Chandra’s horse. Dorsio led the way at a cautious pace, Galloran near him. Tark brought up the rear. By the time they reached a clearing beside a wide road, the moon was about to touch the horizon.
Galloran shifted on his horse beside Jason. “If all goes as planned,” Galloran said, “six orantium spheres should detonate simultaneously, demolishing the manglers. Each attacker will throw one, and Drake will throw two. If our attackers shield their eyes correctly, the blinded guardsmen will be left vulnerable. A second volley of orantium should wipe out most of the remaining defenders. The rest will fall by more conventional means.”
Jason visualized the scenario. “Sounds airtight.”
“It doesn’t take a genius to plan a perfect assault,” Galloran said. “The trouble tends to show up during the execution.”
The waning moon was halfway below the horizon and slowly melting from sight. Dorsio led them onto the road. The bridge was visible less than a mile away, a pair of large cressets burning at either end. As a group, the horses started walking toward the bridge.
Jason felt butterflies inside his stomach. He tried to tell himself that his part in this was simple. Follow Dorsio to the bridge. What could go wrong? Well, they could get to the bridge, find Aram and Drake dead and manglers waiting to chop them into taco meat while guards shot arrows from covered positions. Jason debated whether he should get out an orantium sphere of his own. He decided against it, since he would have his hands full trying to steer his own horse and lead another. The last thing he needed was to drop a sphere and blow himself up. Sometimes the best offense was avoiding self-destruction.
The moon disappeared below the horizon. Up ahead, white flashes blazed at either end of the bridge, the thunder of the explosions following a few seconds later. Jason’s horse sidestepped and whinnied, but thankfully didn’t go berserk.
Dorsio spurred his horse to a canter. Jason flicked the reins, and his horse followed. He kept a firm hand on the lead of Chandra’s horse. A second round of detonations strobed on the bridge, a little less simultaneous this time, the fiery whiteness reflecting off rising clouds of smoke. The resultant booming sounded like three or four cannons, fired in rapid succession.
Jason focused on staying with Dorsio and keeping his horses under control. If Galloran could do it blind, he had no excuse to mess up.
The bridge passed out of sight, obscured by trees. As the road rounded the trees, the near side of the bridge came back into view, one of the cressets still burning. Aram and Drake stood off to one side of the road. Tark and Rachel slowed up to pass the men their horses.
Staying with Galloran and Dorsio, Jason rode onto the bridge. He smelled charred stone and metal and flesh. The twisted husks of manglers lay in smoldering ruins, along with several fallen guardsmen. Jason felt a pang of regret at the sight of the slain soldiers. At the same time, he knew that they supported an evil cause. Given the chance, none of them would have hesitated to kill him or his friends.
Jason loped across the bridge. Both cressets still burned on the far side. More demolished manglers and slaughtered soldiers lay in disarray, along with fragments of metal and blackened stone. Nedwin, Ferrin, and Chandra awaited them at the side of the road beyond the bridge. Jason slowed beside Chandra, who sprang onto her horse with wiry skill.
“I’ll grant Galloran one thing,” Ferrin said cheerily. “The man knows how to throw a party.” He was the only person who had not yet mounted his horse. He walked it over to the guardhouse, took the dagger from a fallen guardsman, and used it to tack a piece of parchment to the door.
“What does it say?” Jason asked.
“‘Down with Maldor, down with his puppets, down with his empire,�
�” Nedwin recited. “‘Warmest regards, Ferrin, son of Baldor.’”
“I composed it myself,” Ferrin said. “Best I could manage on short notice. With more time, I might have devised a rhyme.” He mounted his horse as Tark, Rachel, Aram, and Drake rode up.
“The village?” Galloran asked.
“Looks quiet for now,” Nedwin replied. “I drugged the horses at the garrison, as well as many of the privately owned mounts on this side of the river. We should enjoy an advantageous head start.”
“Well done, everyone,” Galloran said, holding out the lead for his own horse until Dorsio took it. “Off we go.”
Jason nudged his horse forward, riding between Tark and Rachel. The excitement of the decisive victory and the promise of vengeful imperial pursuers left his senses thrillingly alert. As their horses pounded through the night, he gazed up at the countless stars overhead, so numerous that it looked impossible to create constellations in all the clutter.
“I’ll rejoin you at Three Peaks,” Nedwin called, veering off the road to the right.
Jason and the others stayed on the road for perhaps ten minutes before turning off into a field. Ferrin had the lead. Aram brought up the rear.
As Jason cantered beside Rachel, he could hardly believe that against all odds they were together again. Rocking in time with his horse, cool wind on his face, he squinted ahead at Dorsio and Galloran, then back at Tark and Aram, dim shapes in the starlight. He doubted whether he and Rachel would be safer anywhere in Lyrian. They rode with cunning adventurers who knew how to fight and forage, who could probably survive for as long as necessary on the run. Racing through the night, in spite of his hardships, Jason felt gratitude and relief. A mighty emperor might be hunting him, but at least he wasn’t alone.
CHAPTER 13
HUNTED
Toward the end of the second day after fleeing from the bridge, deep in rugged, hilly country, Jason rode his horse over the lip of a roundish valley. A lake filled the bottom of the depression, the water interrupted by a large, wooded island crudely shaped like a horseshoe.
Drake led the way down to the edge of the lake, then rode out onto the water. Instead of becoming immersed, the horse never sank deep enough for the water to touch Drake’s boots.
“Shallow lake?” Jason asked Ferrin.
“I’ve never been here,” Ferrin replied, “but Drake was telling me there are three ways to the island: broad way, narrow way, and crooked way. The rest of the lake is quite deep, but three submerged ridges allow access from the shore to anyone who knows the secret and doesn’t mind wading.”
Jason and Ferrin found themselves at the rear of the group, following the other riders out onto the lake. Looking down, Jason noticed that the water was a murky green. He couldn’t see far below the surface.
“A wizard once called this island home,” Galloran commented over his shoulder, apparently having overheard the conversation. “The valley is difficult to find unless you know the way.”
The nine riders reached the island and trotted inland from the shore. Toward the center of the island, Drake brought them to a clearing ringed by tall pines with scaly bark. A large stone cottage and a few smaller outbuildings stood in various stages of disrepair. The cottage lacked a door and had lost most of one wall. The windows had no glass. Part of the roof remained. A pair of young trees grew out of the roofless portion.
“After dark we can build a fire in the cottage,” Drake said. “We could all use a full night’s rest and some hot food.”
“Couldn’t we get cornered here?” Aram asked.
“I know all three ways off this island,” Drake said. “We’ve seen no sign of anyone tracking us, and this valley is isolated and elusive.”
“Good enough for me,” Aram replied, dismounting.
Nobody else raised objections.
While Jason was unpacking his blankets, Rachel came over. She placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered, “I want to show you something.”
Curious, he followed her over to one of the crumbling outbuildings. Little more than a pair of adjacent walls remained. Rachel led Jason to the corner where the two walls met, shielding them from view.
“Check this out,” Rachel said, taking a candle from her pocket. She held it up and mumbled a short phrase, and a flame came to life. She shielded the fire with her hand.
“How’d you do that?” Jason asked, impressed. He hadn’t recognized the words she spoke, yet somehow he instinctively understood they pertained to gathering heat.
“Edomic,” she replied. “I can teach you.”
“Who taught you?”
“Drake showed me how to light fires. Then the charm lady taught me some other things. It isn’t too hard once you get the hang of it.”
Jason blew out the candle. “Do it again.”
She mumbled the phrase, and the flame returned.
“You just say the words?” Jason verified.
“Partly. The words ask heat to gather. But you have to put your will behind the words and sort of force the heat to obey.”
Jason held out a hand. “Let me try.”
She blew out the flame and handed him the candle, then slowly and clearly told him the words.
“It sounds like you’re singing them,” Jason said.
“You don’t have to be loud about it,” Rachel said. “But the pitch does matter. The charm woman said some wizards used to get results just by speaking the words in their minds. But you still need to pronounce everything correctly.”
They repeated the words back and forth. Rachel made little corrections in his inflections. “This seems a lot harder than saying the Word.”
“It is,” Rachel said. “The charm woman explained it to me. The Word was as close to nonsense as Edomic gets. It was just a password, a trigger, to set a prearranged enchantment into motion. It was deliberately simple. Many Edomic words can’t be written with English phonetics. She said the only complicated part would have been designing the Word to erase itself from memory.”
Jason kept working to perfect the phrase to summon heat. Finally Rachel approved. He repeated the phrase a few times.
“You’ve got it,” Rachel said. “Now focus on the candle, say the words, and demand them to be fulfilled.”
Jason stared at the candle. He imagined the flame flickering to life, spoke the phrase, and focused on the wick, willing it to burn. After a prolonged mental effort, nothing happened. His gaze switched to Rachel. “What did I do wrong?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, a crease forming between her eyebrows. “Make sure you imagine the heat responding and gathering. It’s sort of like making a wish. Have you ever wished for something so hard that it’s almost like you’re trying to force it to come true?”
“Sure,” he said.
“It’s kind of like that, except this actually works. Speak the command, then back it up with mental effort. Make the heat fulfill your words.”
He tried several more times with no effect. “Am I pronouncing the words right?”
“Sounds right to me. And the meaning is coming through.”
“Weird how I don’t know the words, but I can feel the meaning.”
“Edomic is like that. It’s very exact. Everything understands it intuitively. But knowing the words to speak isn’t intuitive. You have to learn them.”
Jason spoke the phrase again, putting emotion into his voice, then throwing all his mental energy at the wick, as if he truly believed that pure desire could start a fire. As before, he didn’t get a single spark or a wisp of smoke. “You do it again,” he said.
Rachel spoke the words, and the flame came to life.
Jason looked around suspiciously. “Is this some kind of trick?”
“No way. How would I make a candle spontaneously light itself?”
“I don’t know. It just feels like a trick. How long did it take you to learn this?”
“I lit the candle on my first try, after Drake described how. I’d seen him do it several
times. My first time, it took a few seconds of pushing to get it right. Now it seems effortless.”
“Drake can do this too?” Jason asked.
“Yes. Although I’m already at least as good as him. And I can do some other things that he can’t. The charm woman said I’m a natural.”
“You truly have a gift,” said Chandra, stepping around from the other side of the wall. “I could feel the power in your words.”
“How long were you listening?” Jason challenged, embarrassed about his many failed attempts.
“I don’t make it a habit to eavesdrop on comrades,” she apologized. “Galloran felt Rachel speaking Edomic and sent me to watch. Drake told him about your talent, and he’s most intrigued.”
This was the most Jason had ever heard Chandra speak. “What do you mean he felt her speaking?”
“He could feel the effect of her words,” Chandra said. “The change her words were causing, the power she was mustering with her will. To a lesser extent I could sense it as well.”
“Do you speak Edomic too?” Rachel asked.
“A smattering,” Chandra replied. “I mostly know how to move things.”
“Like telling animals to move?” Rachel asked.
“No, I’ve never grasped the nuances of suggestion. I can’t work with intellects. I mean physically moving objects by command.”
“Show us,” Jason invited.
Chandra scanned the ground. “This place amplifies Edomic commands. You can almost taste it. The charged atmosphere, rich with energy. It must be why the old wizard chose to live here. You were tapping into a lot of power, Rachel, although you used only a small portion.” She extended her hand toward a stone block that probably would have been too heavy for anyone but Aram to lift. She sang a quick phrase, and it shuddered. She repeated the effort, and it rocked. Her face contorted with effort, and on the third try, her words tipped it onto its side.
“Cool!” Jason said.
“It’s normally hard to budge anything bigger than you can move with your muscles,” Chandra said. “I can feel that my Edomic has more clout than usual here.” She extended an arm forward and issued a command, and a stone the size of a hockey puck leaped into her callused hand.
