Seeds of Rebellion

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Seeds of Rebellion Page 35

by Brandon Mull


  The wind weakened even more. Jason kept moving forward until hands helped him down into a deeply cut trench, so perfectly square that it must have been carved by tools. The wind remained noisy, but he no longer felt it. Nedwin dropped in behind him, then Aram.

  Jason slouched against the wall, numb and exhausted after the ordeal. Had he really just seen a woman launched into the air, like a blade of grass dropped on the stream of a fire hose? Hitting the side of the notch could have killed her. If not, the fall would definitely have finished the job. He consoled himself that at least she had an amar. Then again, this was rocky country. Would it ever get planted?

  Kerick and Halco yelled at each other, trying to be heard. Kerick hurried off down the trench in a crouch, and Jason saw him hollering to Rachel. Time passed. Jason could barely believe he was alive. Rachel had been right. Even with all of the warnings, that had been much worse than he had guessed.

  Eventually Farfalee dropped into the trench, followed by Corinne and Drake. Where was Andrus?

  Jason had to wait for an explanation. They spent the next hour moving along trenches. On this side of the notch, the wind was much more widespread. The farther they traveled from the notch, the less concentrated the gale became, but even after an hour, the wind still seemed to gust like a hurricane.

  The trench eventually led to a cave. Once they were inside, the air seemed eerily still. After they’d advanced for some time, it even began to get quiet. In a tall chamber with undulant flowstone walls and stalactites dripping on stalagmites, Jason removed his earplugs to hear the others.

  “Andrus went after Delissa,” Farfalee explained. “He didn’t want to risk her seed getting stranded on barren rock. Nobody travels the canyon below the notch.”

  “It will be a tricky climb,” Nollin said.

  “He’s the best climber we have,” Kerick said.

  “Andrus relayed that if he can find her amar swiftly, he’ll try to catch up,” Farfalee said.

  “Unlikely,” Halco grunted. “He’ll have to descend thousands of feet. Then find the seed. Then climb back up. It will take days.”

  “He may kill himself trying,” Kerick said. “Either way, rejoining us is wishful thinking.”

  “Andrus will survive,” Halco said. “He’ll find her amar. But I agree that he won’t be back.”

  “A foul loss,” Nollin uttered bleakly. “Delissa was perhaps the best archer in the Seven Vales. And few swordsmen could outperform Andrus.”

  “No matter the precautions taken, surviving Howling Notch always involves some luck,” Halco said. “Delissa did nothing wrong. She was simply in the wrong place when the wind became most fierce. We’re fortunate more of us didn’t fly free. It was the harshest crossing I’ve experienced.”

  “We can only continue,” Farfalee said. “We knew Howling Notch would be our biggest test in the mountains. We’re almost through to the tundra. The rest of the way is mostly downhill.”

  “Straight to the Forsaken Kingdom,” Drake muttered. “Delissa and Andrus may be the lucky ones.”

  CHAPTER 22

  THE FORSAKEN KINGDOM

  Will this tundra ever end? Rachel thought to Corinne.

  It’s lovely, Corinne replied. I like the foxes. And the birds. And the lack of cliffs.

  You need to stop being so positive, Rachel scolded. You’re totally unrelatable. You’re going to alienate everyone.

  I’m not sure anything I do will make me relatable, Corinne conveyed. I grew up in a tree deep inside of a deadly swamp. I’m an exiled princess. And I talk more with my mind than my mouth.

  All the more reason to act grumpier, Rachel affirmed.

  The ground here gets too muddy in some places, Corinne complained tentatively.

  Very good, Rachel encouraged. That’s a start.

  I can’t say I’m fond of the caribou droppings, she added.

  Who can? Very relatable. And you’re right about the foxes. They couldn’t be cuter. At least when they’re not chewing on carcasses.

  Rachel currently walked at the rear of the delegation, near Farfalee. Corinne was toward the front, closer to Jason. Yet they heard each other perfectly. Their mental link had been very useful back at Howling Notch. They had experimented, and the telepathy worked just fine with hundreds of yards between them. Half a mile apart required a lot of focus. Around a mile apart the communication became too faint to comprehend, like the fading memories of an elusive dream.

  From behind, Rachel watched Jason hiking beside Corinne. They leaned together, sharing a laugh. Since reaching the tundra, Jason had made a noticeable effort to hang around her. The flat terrain enabled more socializing than the lofty passes. Rachel supposed it was natural. Not only was Corinne older than him and a total knockout, she also had an innocent sweetness that made her accessible. Rachel plucked a leaf from a shrub and tore it as she walked. Had Jason ever tried this conspicuously to earn her attention? Or was it only conspicuous to her? Why did she bother noticing?

  Off to her right loomed the omnipresent mountains, an unbroken chain reaching from horizon to horizon. To the east, west, and north sprawled open tundra, grassy country contoured by hillocks, boulders, tussocks, and low ridges. In the wide-open terrain, almost everyone took turns scouting. As she watched, a twitchy rabbit darted from the shelter of one scraggly bush to another.

  We might miss the monotonous tundra when we reach the Forsaken Kingdom, Corinne conveyed.

  Nobody seems to know many details about it, Rachel replied.

  Ferrin knew more than the Amar Kabal, Corinne agreed. At least he had heard rumors that the disease was transmitted by worms.

  Ew, I just stepped in a squishy spot, Rachel complained. You really feel it in these moccasin boots.

  Be glad it’s summer, Corinne replied. Kerick said this whole area is under ice and snow for most of the year.

  We have land like this not too far from where I lived back home.

  You lived in an icy place?

  Sometimes. Washington was more rainy than snowy. Huge trees, lots of moss.

  That I can imagine, Corinne assured her.

  I bet. But not too far north from my home there were reindeer and tundra.

  Do you think we’ll be attacked by the walking dead?

  Rachel had been trying to avoid dwelling on it. She considered the question. We should definitely expect trouble. There has to be a reason nobody goes there. Farfalee told me a small river forms the unofficial northern border of the kingdom, and they’ve never seen the walking dead on this side of it. We shouldn’t have to worry until then.

  How do you kill something that’s already dead?

  Nobody knows enough about them. Ask Jason. He’ll have an opinion.

  Wait a moment. Rachel could see Corinne talking to Jason, but they were too far ahead to hear. He says you chop them up into little pieces.

  But what if that infects you with the disease?

  Jason leaned close to answer Corinne quietly. She laughed. You let Nollin do it.

  Ferrin and Nedwin were the first to spot a walking corpse. Ever since they’d lost Andrus and Delissa, Ferrin had contributed more with the scouting. A few hours after the group had forded the Agwam River, Ferrin and Nedwin returned to the delegation and reported a lone woman limping their way from the south. Rachel had felt uncomfortably alert since crossing the northern boundary of the Forsaken Kingdom. In a way, it was a relief to end the anticipation. Based on the description, the undead woman did not sound like a major threat.

  “We should study her,” Drake recommended. “Approach her and see if she can listen to reason.”

  “And when she attacks?” Ferrin asked.

  “We see how hard she is to take down,” Drake replied. “The information could become extremely relevant.”

  “The corpse is coming directly toward us?” Farfalee asked.

  “She can obviously sense our presence,” Nedwin affirmed. “Despite her injured leg, she’s hurrying along a perfect line to intercept us.”r />
  “He’s right,” Ferrin agreed.

  Kerick folded his arms. “If we’ll have to face her sooner or later, might be best to get it over with, confront the abomination on our terms.”

  “We must neutralize her from a distance,” Halco said. “No close combat.”

  “That still may not sufficiently protect us,” Nollin cautioned. He turned to Ferrin. “How certain are you that the disease is transmitted by worms?”

  “I heard a rumor. I’ve never personally been to the Forsaken Kingdom, but Maldor has long taken an interest in the plaguelands. He considers the plague the greatest potential threat to his domination of Lyrian. If it ever spread, the disease could destroy all of the kingdoms on the continent, regardless of their power or politics. Research has been quietly conducted. The rumor is probably credible.”

  Nollin folded his arms. “Setting aside opinions about rumors, what I hear is that we lack certainty on the matter. This sickness obliterated a mighty realm! We know the condition to be dreadfully contagious. Mere proximity to an afflicted person might spawn infection. For the sake of the mission, some of us should keep well back.”

  “Like those of us without seeds,” Aram muttered.

  “We’re unsure whether the amar will be immune to the malady,” Farfalee said.

  “The amar could not regenerate an undead body,” Nollin asserted. “But the amar could be incapacitated by the disease. The safest course for an infected member of the Amar Kabal would be a quick death to reduce the risk of exposing the seed.”

  “What if one of the rest of us becomes infected?” Corinne asked.

  A troubled silence settled over the group. Farfalee spoke. “If the disease manifests, we would need to accept that the afflicted person had become a puppet controlled by an illness.”

  “How will we know if we catch it?” Rachel asked. “Or if the disease has taken hold?”

  “A sudden craving for blood and brains?” Jason guessed.

  The joke fell flat, earning uneasy smiles instead of laughs.

  “You may not be far from the truth,” Farfalee said. “I imagine some of the symptoms will be evident. We’ll need to remain vigilant—pay attention to how we’re feeling, keep a sharp eye on one another. Nollin is right that some of us should go to extreme lengths to keep our distance from the walking dead. That core group needs to include those whose presence we most need at Mianamon, namely Corinne, Rachel, Jason, and Nollin.”

  “And you, Farfalee,” Nollin added.

  “Halco and I will do everything in our power to keep the key members of the delegation uncompromised,” Kerick asserted.

  “Any threat to Jason will have to pass through me first,” Tark vowed.

  “I am under specific orders to protect Corinne and Rachel,” Nedwin said.

  “I am here to do whatever is needed,” Drake pledged.

  Farfalee glanced at her brother, a flash of pain and concern in her eyes. “Unwelcome as such a discussion may be, it does provide a practical hierarchy.”

  “What of our bold displacer?” Nollin asked.

  “He wants everyone to live,” Ferrin said tactfully. “Himself included.”

  “Same with the smuggler,” Aram inserted.

  “I believe we all understand what needs to happen,” Farfalee said. “Five of us have pledged to help ensure the survival of the others by any means necessary. But of course I want all of us to survive this passage through the Forsaken Kingdom. Aside from an examination of this diseased woman, our goal will be evasion. I agree that we need to investigate the effectiveness of projectiles against her. Hopefully, these unfortunate plague victims can be slain from a distance.”

  Ferrin and Nedwin led the delegation to a hilltop that offered a view of the infected woman coming toward them. It was hard to apprehend details from a distance, but she was clearly limping. Her body was emaciated, her clothes tattered, her hair matted and filthy.

  The rest of the delegation waited atop the hill while Kerick and Halco advanced fifty yards down the slope. Kerick carried a bow and Halco brought a sling. As the disheveled woman drew nearer, her hasty limp became more frantic.

  “Halt!” Kerick demanded in a clear voice. “We mean you no harm.”

  The woman continued forward without a response.

  Kerick set an arrow to his bowstring and pulled it to his cheek. “Halt or I will be forced to shoot. We only wish to converse.”

  The woman rasped a moaning reply. Straining her ears and using some imagination, Rachel believed the woman might have said “need.” The woman shambled toward Kerick with desperate vigor.

  Kerick put an arrow through her chest. The impact made her stumble; then she continued toward him, oblivious to the injury. Halco loosed a stone from his sling, which knocked her to the ground. Teeth bared angrily, the woman scrambled back to her feet.

  “Please, halt,” Kerick demanded, retreating a few paces, his bow bent again.

  She gave no response.

  With rapid efficiency, Kerick began putting arrows through her head. By the third, she collapsed to the ground, finally immobile.

  “Not promising,” Farfalee murmured. “At least enough arrows stopped her. The disease may control her, but it seems the commandeered body needs some brain function to stay in motion.”

  “I have considerable experience handling dangerous and exotic substances,” Nedwin said. “Do you mind if I examine the corpse?”

  “If you’re willing to risk the consequences,” Farfalee said.

  Kerick and Halco withdrew from the fallen woman, and Nedwin approached gingerly, as if expecting that her unconsciousness might be a ruse. Eventually he crouched beside her and used a dagger to prod her in several places. With some effort, he extracted the arrows. After several minutes spent hunched over the inert form, Nedwin returned to the group.

  “Worms,” Nedwin reported. “Small ones. Gray. Lots of them. No blood. Just skin, sinew, and bone. The worms were already at work repairing her injuries, knitting her flesh back together. They seemed too heavy to be transmitted through the air. I used my knife to dig out a worm. When I placed it on her arm, the little creature immediately burrowed below her skin.”

  “It seems Ferrin provided accurate intelligence,” Farfalee said.

  “The walking dead are vehicles governed by parasites,” Nollin said. “They aren’t people. We don’t need to show them any mercy.”

  “If my corpse becomes animated by maggots,” Drake said, “please have mercy. Behead me. Burn me. Whatever it takes.”

  “You didn’t even need to ask,” Halco assured him.

  Rachel shivered. How would it feel to have worms tunnel into her body and assume command? How would she feel to see it happen to one of her companions? To Jason or Corinne? She might truly lose her mind.

  Leaving the plague-savaged woman behind, the delegation marched southward. They passed a dilapidated village overgrown by shrubs and small trees, with most of the structures having collapsed into their foundations. Just after sunset, from a ridgetop, they glimpsed a distant city encompassed by a stone wall, its towers silent and dark in the twilight.

  Kerick steered the group away from the quiet city. Rachel tried not to picture bloodthirsty zombies lurking behind those gloomy walls. She failed.

  After some discussion, they made camp on high ground and lit a fire. Ferrin had insisted that the limping woman had been drawn to them by some instinct far more powerful than firelight, but hoped the flames might be used to intimidate attackers. Kerick had reasoned that while the high ground exposed them visually and allowed enemies to approach from all sides, it also enabled the group to see their enemies coming and to flee in any direction.

  Rachel bedded down near Corinne and Jason. “Do you think we can outrun these things if they’re not limping?” Rachel wondered aloud.

  “Guess we’ll find out,” Jason replied. “Let’s hope there’s a reason they’re not called the running dead.”

  “What do you call the walking dead w
hen you kill them?” Corinne asked.

  “Morbid question,” Jason approved. “The walking deader? The no-longer-walking dead?”

  “The resting dead,” Rachel said.

  “Rachel wins,” Corinne decreed.

  “I don’t like how that lady was coming straight at us,” Jason said. “Makes you wonder how many of them are out there right now, heading our way, walking, or limping, or dragging themselves over—”

  “Enough,” Rachel said firmly. “I’m already going to have a lousy time sleeping.”

  “Better to be prepared than surprised,” Jason said.

  “Imagining zombies in the night doesn’t prepare us,” Rachel countered. “If we’re going to get attacked, better to rest than stay up worrying.”

  As if in response to their conversation, a shape appeared out of the night at the edge of the firelight, making Rachel gasp until she recognized Nedwin. They hadn’t seen him in hours. He came and crouched beside Jason.

  “You were gone a while,” Jason said.

  “I don’t like this place,” Nedwin whispered. “I found some hoofprints. Feral pigs. Goats. Wild horses. I toured an abandoned town. There was evidence of other members of the walking dead. I expect we’ll see trouble tonight.”

  Jason shot Rachel a significant look. “So what do we do?”

  “Try to get some sleep,” Nedwin said.

  Rachel shot a look back at Jason.

  “I better go report to Farfalee,” Nedwin said.

  “I’m not sure I can sleep,” Corinne said. “I’ve never felt so nervous! Is it like this a lot?”

  “This is extra bad,” Jason said.

  “Horror movie bad,” Rachel agreed.

  “Horror movie?” Corinne asked.

  “Scary stories we have in the Beyond,” Rachel clarified.

  “With titles like Attack of the Wormy Zombies,” Jason added. “They tend to be really bloody.”

  Eyes wide, Corinne sat rigidly. “How do they usually end?”

  Jason and Rachel shared a knowing look.

  The assault came in the deepest hours of the night. Kerick roused the group with a shouted warning. By the time Rachel was on her feet, she could hear the walking dead stumbling in the darkness. A muffled groan somewhere in the blackness made the hair on her arms stand up. Heart thudding, mind wishing she was dreaming, her first realization was that the attackers seemed to be closing in from all directions.

 

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