by Brandon Mull
“How did you find us?” Jason wondered.
“I’m aware of the Beyond,” she said. “Yours is not the only other reality besides this one. Of everywhere I looked, only bringing you and Rachel here allowed me to glimpse success. Not probable success. But possible.”
“So now I wait until tomorrow?”
“I will meet the others. Then I will entomb myself in clay. To prophesy I must consume substances harmful to my health. This time I will heavily poison myself with fumes and liquids and minerals, and exert myself to touch the eternal as never before. I will search for the path to depose Maldor and share all the insight I can acquire.”
“Poison yourself? Will this kill you?”
“Not until after I deliver the prophecy.”
Rachel sat beside Galloran, lost in thought. After the others had communed with the oracle, they were escorted elsewhere. Some had remained with her for a long time. Rachel assumed the oracle was reading their futures. Should she ask to know her future? Should she ask whether she would ever return home?
Corinne had been with the oracle for some time. Rachel had considered asking her a telepathic question, but had worried that it might cause some sort of psychic interference.
She glanced at Galloran, blindfold over his eyes, arms folded, head bowed, mouth frowning. Could he be asleep?
I am awake, he conveyed. You would not be able to communicate with Corinne from here. That room is shielded from prying minds.
You’ve talked to the oracle before. Should I be nervous?
Do not be afraid of her. She means to help. If you are nervous regarding what future she will see, you are not alone.
Rachel laughed softly. I can’t picture you nervous.
Good.
Rachel laughed again. I’ve wanted to ask you something.
Go ahead.
Rachel hesitated. How did you defeat that torivor? I mean, I know you’re a great swordsman, but that seemed impossible.
His lips bent into a smile. Can you keep a secret?
Sure.
I’m not sure that the secret must be kept. But I want it kept just in case.
I’ll never tell anyone. I swear.
Galloran shifted in his seat. I wouldn’t tell you, unless I thought the information could become relevant for you someday.
Okay.
You know that I can hear your mind, even thoughts you do not intentionally send.
Yes. You did it a moment ago.
To an extent, I can do that with torivors.
She thought about the implications. The realization hit her hard. You know what they’re going to do before they do it!
He nodded. When we fight, I watch what they are about to do. I’m moving to counter them before they are moving to strike. I watch how they adjust, and I adjust accordingly. It requires focus and expertise with a sword. Even knowing each movement in advance, one small miscalculation would destroy me. I have always been a student of the sword, but fighting my first lurker was how I learned to fight as I do. I saw the duel as the lurker saw the duel, and learned to fight as it fought.
Rachel stared at the faint scars on his strong hands. I noticed that you seemed to know shortcuts or something. You defeat people so easily.
I have now bested three lurkers. Each battle has been easier than the one before. That is not to say that the fourth won’t kill me. But I have learned much. I learned during this fight that I can engage a lurker more effectively with a single sword than with a pair.
You can’t read just any mind, Rachel sent.
I can’t read most minds. Sometimes I’ll catch unpredictable glimpses of what an opponent means to do. But if I couldn’t reliably spy on the minds of lurkers, the first one who came for me years ago would have slain me in an instant.
Corinne emerged from the portal that led to the oracle. Ulani gestured to a servant, who led Corinne away. “Come,” Ulani told Rachel, motioning toward the door.
See you later, Rachel conveyed. I’ll keep your secret.
You’re the first to know it, Galloran replied.
Rachel entered the room, and the oracle asked her to sit. The woman stared at her in silence for an uncomfortable length of time. Rachel wondered if the oracle was looking into her future.
Are we going to talk? Rachel conveyed.
“Not that way, child. I must conserve all of my strength. Let me have your hand.”
“Are you going to read my future?”
“I just need to get a clearer sense of you. Information to use when I do try to penetrate the future.”
The oracle took one hand in both of hers. She closed her eyes, nodding faintly, her whole body rocking slightly, then let the hand fall. The oracle kept her eyes closed. Her upper lip quivered.
“I’ve waited my whole life for one who could replace me,” the oracle said.
“What do you mean?” Rachel asked.
“None of my acolytes have sufficient talent. Ulani is the closest, but she will never be more than a shadow of me, as I am but a shadow of the greatest seers. You, however, could surpass me.”
“You know I’ve been practicing Edomic?”
“Even when you were far away, in the Beyond, I could sense potential in you. I gave Erinda the task of drawing you here for that reason. Potential is not always realized, but, Rachel, you are more than I expected. I can feel the power in you. You have come a long way very quickly. Many options will be open to you.”
Rachel braced herself. She didn’t want to ask the question. The words escaped as a whisper. “Will I ever get home?”
“Do you still wish to go home, child? Consider all you could do here. All you could be.”
“I want to help Galloran. I want to stop Maldor. But if we succeed, I want to go home.”
The oracle considered her. “Part of me wishes to keep you here, whether you choose it or not. I don’t mean here in Lyrian. I mean here in this temple. Under my guidance, your skills would grow. You would learn how to gain the knowledge needed to guide this world.”
“But you won’t keep me here?”
“Galloran needs you. And I need Galloran. Should he fail, Lyrian will fall. Despite the best efforts of the children of Certius, this temple will be overrun. Darkness will reign from the northernmost tundra to the southernmost jungle.”
“The treefolk were made by Certius, right?”
“As was this temple,” the oracle said. “Certius built two strongholds in the jungle: Mianamon in the north, and Paggatar to the southwest, in the heart. He shaped these walls with his words, raised them with his will. At Mianamon he established my order and taught us how to enhance our sight. He lived and worked at Paggatar. But Zokar came and destroyed him, much as Maldor seeks to come here and destroy us, the descendants of those who escaped the prior invasion.”
“Can we stop him?”
“I will know more tomorrow. You must continue to increase your abilities. Some here can assist you. Learn all you can while you remain with us.”
“Okay,” Rachel said.
“You want to know if you will go home. I have spent considerable time studying our respective realities. Five years and nine weeks from tomorrow our realities will be properly synchronized. I cannot speak for any other time. If you survive, and if you so choose, that would be the day I recommend for your return.”
Rachel felt a violent surge of relief. Five years might be a long time to wait, but it was much preferable to uncertainty and despair. Tears sprung to her eyes. She had not expected this particular hope to resurface. “If I go home on that day, I should be able to find my parents?”
“It should get you close to your proper time. Now leave me. I must speak with Galloran.”
“Thank you so much.”
The oracle gave her a sad smile. “My dear girl, please do not thank me yet.”
CHAPTER 28
THE PROPHECY
The next morning, Jason and Rachel walked down a long stairway deep below the temple. Ulani led the way, flanked
by a pair of hooded acolytes bearing torches. The entire delegation followed. Nobody spoke.
At the bottom of the stairs, cowled figures hauled open a pair of ornate doors, granting access to a shadowy chamber. Melting candles partially illuminated a variety of ancient carvings. A disgustingly sweet smell saturated the air.
The delegation walked toward the circular pool on the far side of the room. A scaffold over the pool allowed a group of hooded figures to raise a slick gray slab from the fragrant fluid. When the upright slab hung suspended, the acolytes departed.
The face of the oracle was visible in the center of the upper half of the slab. Her eyes were closed, her wrinkled face composed.
The ornate doors closed. The slab dripped. Fumes rose from the aromatic pool.
The eyes of the oracle opened, made iridescent by a creamy film. Those eyes did not make contact with anyone present. They seemed to stare inward or, perhaps, far beyond the confines of the room.
“All paths but one lead to Maldor’s dominion,” the oracle intoned. Her voice did not sound much like it had the day before. She spoke with a remote certainty. “A single precarious lane leads to his premature demise, encompassed by failure, littered with corpses.”
“What should we do?” Galloran asked.
The eyes showed no flicker of recognition. “Two quests. Galloran must rouse Trensicourt. The Amar Kabal must join him, as must the drinlings. Together the free people of Lyrian must march on Felrook in the coming spring. The host will be insufficient, yet Felrook must fall.”
“By spring?” Nollin murmured. “Summer is already spent.”
“Rachel, Io, Ferrin, Nedwin, Nollin, and Tark must join Galloran.”
“Attack Felrook,” Ferrin chuckled darkly, shaking his head.
“Jason Walker must find the abode of Darian the Pyromancer. My sight cannot find his dwelling. I do not know what will be learned. The last abode of Darian the Seer can be learned at the Celestine Library within the Inland Sea. This greatest of seers has vital knowledge. Make sure the secret can be shared.”
“The Celestine Library is guarded,” Ferrin said. “Inaccessible.”
“Darian should have perished ages ago,” Farfalee added softly.
The oracle blinked, her cheeks twitching. “Jasher, Farfalee, Drake, Aram, Corinne, and Nia must join Jason. The parallel quests must succeed. Many present will perish. You must stand united. Otherwise the children of Eldrin will be vanquished, as will the children of Certius, and an age of immeasurable darkness will choke the world. Spend the fall and winter here. Depart as winter wanes. Send a few ahead to prepare the way. The timing is crucial. I have seen and I have spoken.”
“Felrook cannot be taken,” Nollin scoffed mildly. “Not by ten times the number we could muster.”
“I’m not leaving Jason,” Tark griped. “Look again.”
The oracle gasped, cheeks quivering. For a moment, her eyes were not hazy, and she peered desperately at Galloran. “I searched, but could not view the end. Nothing seen, everything glimpsed. You need one with a truer eye and a farther gaze.” Her eyes rolled back, her face slackening. “A secret from the past can ransom the future. The servant will betray the master. The pleasant paths have crumbled. Lyrian must be purchased with sacrifice. Our hope is red, like the blood of heroes; black as the bowels of the earth; and white, like a flash of orantium.”
Her eyelids fluttered rapidly. Drool leaked from the corners of her mouth. Hooded acolytes stormed into the room, armed with tools to cut the oracle from the clay. She died long before they succeeded.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Two down, one to go. Many people have helped the Beyonders series to continue. My editor, Liesa Abrams, did much to improve the story. My agent, Simon Lipskar, arranged the practical side and offered editorial guidance.
The entire team at Simon & Schuster did a great job spreading the word about A World Without Heroes so that the series could find readers. I feel proud to be associated with them. Thanks go to Mara Anastas, Carolyn Swerdloff, Anna McKean, Paul Crichton, Bethany Buck, Matt Pantoliano, Fiona Simpson, and the rest of the team. These are not just people who do their jobs well—they are people I enjoy spending time with! The folks at Shadow Mountain have also been very supportive of this new series.
Early readers for this volume included some friends and family, namely Mary Mull, Cherie and Bryson Mull, Tiffany Mull, Pam Mull, Chris Schoebinger, Liz Saban, Jason and Natalie Conforto, and the ever vigilant eye of J. Tucker Davis Esq., M.D., J.D. Their tips, catches, and feedback were very beneficial. My talented cousin Mike Walton drew the map and some cool pictures for the website. Once again the design team produced a terrific cover—special thanks to Lisa Vega. And thanks to Jeannie Ng for lending her close eye for consistency to the manuscript.
My family and friends are my secret weapon. My wife, Mary, is my first editor, and her insight and support have been a key ingredient to my success on every book, this one included. My kids bring a highly motivating joy into my life. And my siblings, parents, and friends help me put on my Salt Lake City launch parties and contribute in numerous other ways. My dad, Gary, has helped sell T-shirts; my mom, Pam, dresses up as Muriel the witch; my aunt Kim and sister Tiffany pose as fairies or Ephira; and my brother Ty drags his friends out to help with the event. My comedy friends from years past help make my launch parties cool and funny, including Summer Mull, Bryson Mull, Robert Marsh, Chad and Shelly Morris, Gavin and Maren McCaleb, and Joel Hilton, who does a killer Jack Sparrow impersonation.
Some people from the early days must also be shown gratitude. The Allen family, including Aaron, Robert, and Daryl, were very supportive of this concept back before I had ever published anything. Kjirstin Youngberg and Dean Hale also offered some advice in the past. And my brother-in-law Sean Fleming helped me overcome some doubts I had regarding the ending of book one. His support helped me resist taking the story in a safer, more predictable direction. With the benefit of hindsight, I feel that choice made the series cooler.
Among the others I thank, I must never forget you, the reader. Without you my books would serve no purpose. The story does not happen on the page. It happens in your mind. Thanks for bringing Beyonders to life by participating in the story with me. Thanks for telling others about the story. Most people find books through word of mouth. If you’re enjoying Beyonders so far, I expect that you’ll love the last volume, Chasing the Prophecy. I sure hope I’m right!
AUTHOR’S NOTE
WHAT DOES THE FUTURE HOLD?
After Seeds of Rebellion, only one book remains to complete the Beyonders trilogy. The final volume, Chasing the Prophecy, will release in Spring 2013. I have been working on this series for more than ten years, and I’m passionate about ending it well. I’m unspeakably excited to share the conclusion.
In the meanwhile, I have some other books out there, and one other new story coming. My Fablehaven series is complete, and follows the adventures of Kendra and her brother, Seth, as they explore secret wildlife parks for magical creatures hidden around our world. All of the books are now in paperback, and I am pleased with how they turned out.
Between Fablehaven 2 and 3 I wrote a novel called The Candy Shop War. It is my only other novel besides the Beyonders and Fablehaven books. The story follows four young friends: Nate, Trevor, Summer, and Pigeon. When magicians come to their town and start sharing magical candy with certain kids, a lot of trouble follows. Between Beyonders 2 and 3 I will be releasing a sequel to The Candy Shop War called The Arcade Catastrophe.
I also have a lone picture book called Pingo. I had the pleasure of working with #1 New York Times bestselling illustrator Brandon Dorman on the project. The story follows a boy, Chad, whose imaginary friend becomes his imaginary enemy when he tries to stop believing in him. The story can be tricky to find in bookstores these days, but is usually available at the standard online outlets. I have a prequel to Pingo in development, where Chad and Pingo have a contest with other kids at school to see who has the
best imaginary friend.
I will also start a brand-new series after Beyonders. The details are still a secret, but I’ll try to sneak some info into the Author’s Note of Chasing the Prophecy.
For updates or further details on my books and other projects, swing by my website, brandonmull.com. You can also find me on Twitter as brandonmull, or join one of my Facebook fan pages.
Dear Readers,
As I thought about bonus content to include in the first-edition hardcover of Seeds of Rebellion, my mind turned immediately to the interviews with the oracle. The most important characters in this series had a chance to converse with her in private, and I thought it might be interesting to witness more of those exchanges. I selected three characters to follow.
BONUS SCENES
ORACULAR INTERVIEWS
Looking back, Tark received a reassuring nod from Galloran before opening the door and stepping into the room with the oracle. He reached to take off his hat before realizing he was not wearing one. Withered and small, the oracle reclined in a strange chair, gazing at him kindly.
“Should I close the door, Your Grace?” Tark asked.
“Please,” she replied gently.
Tark complied and then went to stand awkwardly before her. Unsure of the etiquette involved, he fell to his knees.
“No,” she scolded, extending a fragile, spotted hand. “Take a seat.”
He rose and sat on the low, cushioned stool. “I’m not sure I belong here,” Tark apologized.
“Nonsense,” the oracle responded. “Give me your hand.”
Tark held out his hand, palm upward. She took it in both of hers and squeezed, her head bowed. Then she traced a fingertip over some of the calluses and lines on his palm. She turned his hand over and inspected the back. He was aware that his fingernails were dirty. She released his hand and stared at him silently.
