by Brandon Mull
Jason shrugged. “Do you have a better idea?”
“Not really. But just because the oracle proposed a plan doesn’t necessarily make it perfect. One of her people tried to kill me! How’d she miss that? I’ve been working with the top acolytes. They’ve taught me some Edomic words, but I can already use the commands better than any of them. I wouldn’t trust most of them to foresee what I’m having for breakfast tomorrow. What if the oracle wasn’t as wise and magical as everybody thinks? Or what if she went crazy? Farfalee told us that Darian the Pyromancer lived ages ago. He should be dead. What if he is? And Felrook seems invincible. What if we’re all marching to our doom, thanks to the desperate ramblings of a dying crackpot?”
The possible validity of her doubts made Jason uncomfortable. “You’re probably just spooked because of last night.”
“This isn’t just about that,” Rachel said. “I’ve been getting more stressed ever since the oracle spoke. I wanted to believe her. She seemed confident and sincere. She gave us hope. I’ve tried to be positive and to focus on my training. But with us about to actually leave, I feel less certain than ever. I needed to tell someone.”
“And you picked me? I’m honored.”
“I was thinking maybe we could go talk to Galloran.”
“We? When did I sign on as a doubter?”
Rachel scowled skeptically. “You aren’t nervous?”
“Sure, I’m nervous! But that’s not the same as deciding it’s a mistake.” Jason paused. He wasn’t ready to do cartwheels of joy at the prospect of leaving Mianamon, but in spite of his insecurities he found he really did feel they were doing the right thing. That was something, at least. “You really want to bug Galloran with this on the day we’re supposed to leave?
“Maybe,” Rachel said uncomfortably. “I’d hate to be part of a train wreck just because I was too scared to speak up.”
“Getting attacked in the middle of the night would freak out anybody. I can understand how it could make you question the oracle.”
“That’s only part of it. I worry that we’re betting everything on this one opinion. Are we really sure she got it right?”
Jason glanced at a hooting gibbon as it triumphantly raised its quarterstaff in the air. “Tell me what you would tell him.”
“Not if you’re just going to watch the gibbons.”
“Sorry. I like how they celebrate. Go ahead. This is actually a great place for a private talk. I’m paying attention.”
Avoiding his gaze, Rachel tugged self-consciously on her sleeves and cleared her throat. “Okay. Galloran, I’m worried that the oracle may not have made an accurate prediction. I mean, she sent you after the Word, and that didn’t turn out so great. She didn’t know that one of her students was an assassin. She was dying when she spoke to us. What if her mind was foggy? What if she was just desperate?”
“You’re worried that Felrook can’t be taken?” Jason checked.
Rachel shrugged. “I know we have an opportunity. Maldor’s main armies are in the east, fighting Kadara. Since Maldor isn’t worried about anyone attacking him, Felrook isn’t heavily defended. But what if he’s right not to worry? Nobody thought Felrook could be taken until the oracle told us to do it. If she was wrong, the last armies resisting Maldor will be crushed! And the other group won’t have it any easier.”
“We have to do impossible stuff too,” Jason agreed.
“What if this is like the Word? What if we’re heading down a false trail?”
“We’ll all die,” Jason said honestly.
“And you’re okay with that?” Rachel blustered.
“I’m not okay with dying,” Jason said. She clearly needed reassurance. It was hard to tell what would help her. He had plenty of his own concerns, but at least he felt convinced that their quests were necessary. “Normally, I wouldn’t risk my life for anything. But these aren’t normal circumstances. I get that we really could die—we’ve already lost people we know. The oracle never promised we’d make it. She didn’t promise we’d succeed, either. But she did say that our only chance for winning would be to follow her instructions. Her words were good enough for Galloran. They were good enough for the drinlings. They were even good enough for the Amar Kabal, and you know how careful they are.”
“But how do I know the oracle got it right?” Rachel asked, almost pleading.
Jason considered her question. “You know better than anyone how Galloran can look into minds.”
“We talk without speaking all the time,” Rachel said. “He even sometimes does it when I’m not communicating with him on purpose.”
“Don’t you think he was making sure the oracle was being straight with us?” Jason asked. “Don’t you think he was watching her mind the whole time? You know how smart he is, how cautious. He’s been burned before. And he’s convinced.”
“True,” Rachel admitted.
“You spoke with the oracle, just like the rest of us. She knew things about us that she couldn’t have known unless she was the real deal. She was the oracle here for a long time. Everybody accepted her as authentic. She didn’t promise we’d win, but I’m sure that what she told us is true. Basically, if we want to save Lyrian, we have to do this, even though it’ll be brutal.”
“She warned that even if we won, many of us wouldn’t make it,” Rachel reminded him. “And she told us that we would probably fail.”
“True,” Jason said. “But we fail for sure if we don’t try.”
Rachel nodded thoughtfully. She looked into his eyes. “You’re convinced?”
Jason found himself turning inward, taking her question seriously. Sure, he had been looking for arguments to reassure her, but it was more than just that. He realized that he really believed what he was saying. This needed to happen. It felt true in his gut, in his bones, right down to his core. “Yeah, I am.”
“So I shouldn’t bother Galloran?”
“Depends why you want to talk to him. If you need reassurance from him, go ahead. But you’re not going to point out any doubts he hasn’t already considered. He knows the stakes, and he made his choice.”
Rachel sighed, her whole body sagging. “Maybe you’re right. It isn’t like I realized some specific danger that everyone overlooked. I guess I’m mostly nervous about leaving, and I let that make me paranoid.”
“You’re not alone. I get worried too. At least you’ve become the ninja wizard girl. You’ll probably make a big difference out there.”
“And you won’t?”
Jason shrugged, trying not to let his worries show. “I hope so. I’m just not sure how.”
“You’ve done so much. I can’t picture you very nervous.”
Jason smiled. “I’m glad you can’t imagine me that way. But I’m all wound up, too. Why do you think I’m hiding out up here when I should be packing? Just because these quests are the right thing to do doesn’t mean they won’t be hard.”
“Or maybe even impossible.”
“We can’t think that way. We’ll psych ourselves out.”
Rachel nodded. “All right. I guess you’ve talked me off the ledge.”
Jason glanced at the enormous drop to the temple floor. “Were you going to jump?”
“I didn’t mean literally. Wanting to die isn’t my problem.”
“Good. The slow way down makes a lot more sense. You sure you’re okay?”
Her smile looked a little forced. “Depends what you mean by okay. Am I looking forward to leaving? No. Do I wish I could go hide under a rock? Yes. Will I do my duty? I don’t really have another choice. I can’t abandon everybody, and I can’t deny that this is the right thing to do.”
Jason nodded. “That’s what it comes down to. Difficult or not, scary or not, it’s the right choice. Our friends need us. Lyrian needs us. We have to keep going.”
Her smile became sweeter, more natural. “Thanks, Jason. I needed this. You can be pretty impressive sometimes. Now I don’t have to embarrass myself by bothering Galloran. I
’ll find a way to keep it together. Are you done up here? Should we head down?”
“I guess.” Following her to a ladder, Jason turned to look back. “So much for my farewell ape fights.”
* * *
While descending from the heights of the temple, Jason and Rachel found Ferrin awaiting them near the base of a long ladder. Dressed for travel, he leaned against the wall, balancing his dagger on his fingertip. “Jason,” the displacer greeted, sheathing the knife. “I was beginning to worry you had been made an honorary gibbon.”
“I heard you were looking for me,” Jason replied.
“Can we take a walk?”
Jason looked to Rachel.
“Go ahead,” she said. “I have some things to gather. I’ll see you when we meet up to leave.” She started down a nearby flight of stairs.
Ferrin led Jason to a high terrace that wrapped around the outside of the temple. They walked beside a waist-high parapet, the jungle spread out below them. Under the direct sunlight, the temperature climbed from uncomfortably warm to hot. The humid smell of vegetation filled Jason’s nostrils. “Seems to be getting hotter every day.”
“Spring will do that,” Ferrin replied. “Winter is ending.”
“What’s up?”
Ferrin winced. “We’re about to go our separate ways.”
“I know. Part of me never wanted this day to come. It’s been nice to spend some time without death and destruction around every corner.”
“It’s been there waiting all along. But I know what you mean. Mianamon has provided a welcome season of relief. I’ve enjoyed the chance to observe your nature when you’re not under duress.”
“That makes me feel like the subject of an experiment.”
Ferrin shrugged. “If you were, the experiment was a success. You’re a good person, Jason. A true friend.”
Jason felt unsure how to respond. He had never heard Ferrin give compliments lightly. “Thanks. You are too. You’ll keep an eye on Rachel?”
“The one I have left,” he said, tapping his eye patch. “Do you realize what awaits you at the Celestine Library?”
“I’ve heard the basics. Zokar placed a guardian there.”
“Right. I went over this with Galloran and Farfalee, and I know they’ve spoken with you, but I want to make sure you fully understand. Zokar was obsessed with the torivors. Rightfully so—they’re probably the most powerful beings in Lyrian. He spent years attempting to create a race of similar prowess. The results became known as his Abominations.”
“And one of them protects the library.”
“Zokar never felt he had perfected his Abominations. There were three, each unique, each less governable than he desired. He never turned them into races because he feared they would usurp his power. One was a sinister being with an extraordinary gift for invading thoughts and dreams. It was dubbed the Visitor, and Zokar eventually destroyed it. Some historians cite evidence that Zokar was never the same after besting the Visitor, and argue that the confrontation may have permanently disrupted his sanity.”
“I wish I were an evil wizard,” Jason complained. “They have all the fun.”
“The second creation was a shape-shifter. It was called the Wanderer. Zokar tried to eliminate it, but the shape-shifter escaped and vanished. None know its fate.”
“And the third?”
“It was known as the Maumet. In form it was like a torivor, but considerably larger. The Maumet can transform itself into any material it touches. Zokar successfully imprisoned the Maumet on Windbreak Island.”
“The same island as the Celestine Library.”
“Correct. None have entered the library since that time. Many have tried. Eldrin was not one of them.”
Jason frowned. “But after Eldrin defeated Zokar, didn’t he go on a rampage destroying books?”
“Good memory,” Ferrin approved. “Eldrin decided to rid Lyrian of wizardry, and sought to destroy all the books that taught Edomic. Of the great storehouses of learning, only the Celestine Library remained untouched. Even the legendary Eldrin chose not to confront the Maumet. What does that tell you?”
“The Maumet is tough.”
“It intimidated the most powerful wizard Lyrian has known. It got between him and his mission, and he let it stay there.”
“He might have figured the Maumet would be able to guard that information forever,” Jason said.
“All indications have shown that he would have been correct,” Ferrin said. “Maldor has sent several teams to retrieve information from the Celestine Library. None have succeeded. I’ve heard that the only way to harm the Maumet is to chip off pieces. Sort of the opposite of me.” He casually detached one hand at the wrist, flipped it into the air, then caught it on the stump at the end of his forearm. The hand fused seamlessly back into place.
“So if we chop off an arm, the arm is gone.”
“Supposedly, the Maumet never regenerates lost material. But this is all speculative. Nobody has ever severed a limb. To my knowledge nobody has ever seriously harmed it.”
Jason stared out over the steaming jungle. “And we need to find a way.”
“The oracle tasked Galloran with regaining control of Trensicourt, raising an army, and mounting a direct assault on the emperor’s impenetrable stronghold. If you ask me, Galloran has the easy job.”
“Rachel seems pretty nervous,” Jason said. “She was worried the oracle might have been wrong.”
“I don’t think the oracle was wrong.”
“No?”
“No. She was authentic. I expect that her prediction was valid. Remember, she wasn’t promising victory. She was looking for any possible route to victory, no matter how faint. I’m sure if you can somehow access the library, there is a chance of finding a way to contact Darian the Seer, even though he is supposed to be dead. Those strong enough in Edomic have found methods to achieve astonishing life spans. And it is conceivable that the famed pyromancer could provide some arcane information that might help an attack on Felrook succeed. I can’t begin to imagine what that information could be. And I doubt that any knowledge could make such a victory likely.”
“This isn’t sounding good,” Jason said, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach.
“We asked if, among all the possible futures, there might be a one-in-a-billion chance of turning the tide and dethroning Maldor. I’m sure the oracle found what Galloran sought: a theoretically possible, but highly unlikely, path to victory.”
Jason rubbed his wrist anxiously. “In other words, we won’t just probably fail—we’ll almost certainly fail. You’re still willing to go along with it?”
“If Maldor ever apprehends me, my fate is certain. Just like you and Galloran and the Amar Kabal, I’d take a minuscule chance at victory over certain doom. If we fail, I can still try to jump ship and hide in the wilderness for the rest of my life, which is my only other current option.”
Jason shifted uncomfortably. “You’re warning me that my quest probably ends with the Maumet.”
“I want you to appreciate what you’re up against. You will have to succeed where multitudes have failed. You’ll have to accomplish something that the mightiest wizard in the history of Lyrian didn’t dare to attempt. You’ve pulled off some shocking upsets in the past, but only a fool would bet on you this time. So I will.” Ferrin detached an ear and held it out to Jason.
“You’re betting an ear?”
“I’m betting that not only will you find a way past the Maumet, but that you will locate Darian the Pyromancer and need to offer us crucial information from a great distance. If you perish, I’ll just have to get used to life with one eye and one ear.”
“Farfalee is bringing messenger eagles,” Jason reminded him.
“I know, and they will serve as an important redundancy, but nothing beats sure, instantaneous communication.”
Jason accepted the ear. It represented a great deal of trust. Too much trust, maybe? Could Ferrin have other motives? They
had spoken frankly about his allegiance issues on other occasions. “What if you betray us?”
Ferrin flashed a crooked smile. “The oracle had the same concern.”
“She did?”
“In our private conversation. She told me that I could be either a vital asset or a crippling traitor. She assured me that Maldor would never accept me, that any treachery would end in my ruin, things I already know. Things she needed me to believe.”
Jason held up the ear. “This is your attempt to help us?”
“Part of it,” Ferrin said. “If we mount an attack on Felrook, I have a lot of information that could prove advantageous. Assuming Galloran can muster his army, and you can accomplish your role, I’ll help see this through.”
“Are you sure?” Jason asked. “Are you really on our side? Totally?”
Ferrin raised his eyebrows. “It’s possible that you would learn a vital secret, speak it to my ear, and I would take the information straight to Maldor in search of forgiveness. Such an act of betrayal could enable the emperor to counter whatever secret tactic Darian might suggest, even if the messenger eagles still deliver the information to Galloran.”
Jason resisted an impulse to fling the ear into the jungle. “I know you think like that. Do you have to be so open about it?”
“Would you prefer I kept those thoughts private?”
“I wish you’d quit having those thoughts at all. It’s a scary sort of honesty when you openly admit you might betray us.”
Ferrin lifted his hands apologetically. “I’ve plotted like this my entire life. I like you enough that I try to be candid.”
“It’s not just that you have those urges. I know you’re capable of carrying them out.”
Ferrin laughed darkly. “Makes me a lousy teammate. But the oracle indicated that we need to stand together or else none of this will work. Doesn’t that mean you have to rely on me?”
“I want to count on you. You’ve picked us over Maldor before.”
Ferrin held up a finger. “Back before I really knew the stakes, I picked you over the chance of upsetting Maldor if I got caught. Then the situation spiraled out of control. But I see what you mean. If I wanted to ruin your cause, I could have already done so.”
