A World Without Heroes

by Brandon Mull

“I’m wearing boxers. They look like swim trunks.”

  She turned and looked at him. “I can do this.”

  “You can jump off the next cliff. Don’t be stubborn.”

  “You’re the stubborn one,” she shot back.

  Jason quietly conceded that she had a point. His parents always accused him of being obstinate. At home he often got his way simply by outlasting everyone else.

  “We can flip a coin,” Rachel said.

  “Our coins are pellets.”

  “No, I have one from our world.” She started searching her pockets. “Winner picks who jumps.”

  “Fine.” Shivering, Jason stepped carefully to the edge of the cliff. The sea breeze feathered his cheeks, ruffled his hair. Goose pimples rose all over his body. He folded his arms, rubbing his palms against his sides for warmth.

  Far below, the water level had receded. Two rocks shaped like arrowheads stood out clearly now, pointing at each other. To land right between them, he would have to jump outward a good distance.

  “Found it,” Rachel said behind him. “Heads or tails?”

  “Heads.” He looked back as she flipped the quarter and caught it.

  “Tails,” she proclaimed, holding it up with a triumphant grin.

  “I lose,” Jason said, turning away from her.

  “No, wait!”

  Swinging his arms forward, he sprang out into empty space, viscera rising within him as his body plummeted downward in a wild acceleration through chill, salty air. The wind of his fall swept over him as the greenish, foamy water came up fast. With his elbow tucked against his chest, he held his nose, straightened his body, and tore through the surface of the water between the two giant arrowheads, his feet barely touching the rocky bottom at the low point of his submergence.

  The gentle sting of seawater bothered his vision. He was in a long, narrow pit in the coastal floor, well beneath the churning surface. A couple of nearby sea fans swayed with the current. Vivid anemones clung to the rocks. He swam up out of the trench, angling inward toward the base of the cliff. The closer he got to the surface, the more turbulent the currents became.

  His head broke the surface, and he gasped for breath. A half-submerged cave yawned directly before him. A curling swell heaved him in that direction, scraping his shoulder against a rough wall of stone. He stroked madly, bumping a knee against an unyielding face of unseen rock.

  The ocean drew him away from the mouth of the cave; then the frothy mass of a breaker heaved him forward out of control. He tucked his head, turning helpless somersaults inside the tumbling rush of water, grimly anticipating the moment his skull would burst against a jagged corner of stone.

  When the wave was spent, Jason found himself at the mouth of the cave. He clutched a jutting knob of rock to resist being drawn away as the water withdrew. A fresh influx of roiling spume pushed him beyond the mouth into the cave itself. He could not touch bottom, so he swam fiercely, fading back almost to the mouth before a new breaker shoved him in even deeper.

  The cave narrowed. The enclosed space magnified the sounds of the surging sea. He scrabbled for handholds to resist the tide and haul himself farther inward. After he traversed a section so narrow he could almost reach from wall to wall, the cave widened into a spacious grotto. Not much light filtered in from the entrance. In the dimness Jason perceived a still, wiry man seated upon a ledge against the far wall, a good ten feet above the water level.

  Finding he could now stand, Jason waded over to the far wall, cautious not to slice his bare soles on the rocky ground. Waist-deep water became ankle-deep. Behind him the ocean roared.

  Jason stepped out of the water, too close to the ledge to see the man on top. Regular handholds had been chiseled into the rock. “Hello,” Jason called.

  No answer. Perhaps the man was asleep. Or dead.

  Jason climbed the handholds leading up the sheer face below the ledge. Scents of seawater and stone mingled in his nostrils.

  His head cleared the top. The ledge was fairly broad, spanning the entire rear wall of the grotto. The man sat nearby, back to the wall, legs crossed at the ankles, staring at Jason. Tangled gray hair covered his head and face, dangling to his narrow waist. He held a rubbery length of seaweed in his hands.

  Jason boosted himself onto the ledge, returning the silent stare.

  The man squeezed the seaweed, using both hands to twist it in opposite directions. The action triggered a bioluminescent reaction, bathing the ledge in pale green light.

  “Nice cave,” Jason said.

  The man grunted.

  Jason decided to have a staring contest. His eyes began to burn. The man showed no sign of strain. Jason lost.

  The man still did not blink. The grave gaze was disconcerting. “I need help finding a word,” Jason said.

  The man nodded fractionally.

  “My name is Jason.”

  “I am Jugard.”

  “So you can speak.”

  The man grunted.

  “I was sent by Galloran.”

  Jugard’s bushy eyebrows twitched upward.

  “He said you helped him long ago.”

  A slight nod.

  “Will you help me learn the Word to unmake Maldor?”

  The man stared. Jason lost the contest a second time.

  “You heard me, right?”

  The stare persisted. Jugard had obviously heard.

  Jason scooted around so his back was against the wall as well. He had asked his question. He would look like a jerk if he kept pushing. Apparently the other man needed time to think about his response. Or perhaps he was crazy. Either way, waiting seemed preferable to coercion. Jason shivered, finally recognizing how cold he was.

  Minutes passed. Jason stared at his hands, listened to the echoes of surging waves. He quietly wondered if, somewhere high above, Rachel was worried.

  Jason glanced sideways at Jugard. The man had set down his seaweed and was busy untangling his matted beard. Muscles danced in his thin, sinuous arms. Jason returned to contemplating his hands. More time passed. He took the silence as a contest. This time he would not blink. Closing his eyes, he began reviewing the bones of the leg and foot. He had a big anatomy test Friday. No, he had already missed it.

  “You are wise for one so young,” Jugard said at last. “Most men cannot abide silence. Some fly into a rage. Some become clowns. Some confess all they know. Silence reveals much. I will assist you, Jason, friend of Galloran.”

  “How can you help me?”

  “What do you know?”

  “The first syllable. And I know not to say the Word unless I’m with Maldor.”

  Jugard stopped picking at his beard and started rubbing his ankles. He did not look at Jason. “You are just beginning your search. The Word has six syllables. The fourth is ‘en.’ I do not know the location of the other syllables, but I know of a man in Trensicourt who might be able to help. If he remains alive, Nicholas should be able to advise you. He once worked closely with Galloran, creating engines of war.”

  “Okay, ‘en.’ And Nicholas. Is that all you know?”

  “I have dwelled in this cave longer than I can reckon. Most of what I know derives from others who have journeyed here. You are the first in some time. I hope my information remains valid.”

  Jason nodded. He already had a third of the Word! And he had a new lead to follow. He had worried that the sea cave might represent a dead end. He visualized the portion of the Word he knew.

  Jason repeated the name of the contact in Trensicourt.

  “That is right,” Jugard confirmed.

  “Do you know what a Beyonder is?” Jason asked.

  “Of course.”

  “I’m a Beyonder.”

  The bushy eyebrows twitched again.

  “Do you know how I can get home?”

  Jugard stared. “I do not. Keep asking your question. There are some who might have answers.”

  Jason looked around the chamber of stone. He turned to Jugard with a pu
zzled expression.

  “You wish to know how to get back atop the cliffs.”

  Jason nodded.

  “Once, the task was not difficult. Beyond a neighboring chamber, long ago, a colleague of Nicholas helped me construct a means for ascending to a point near the cliff tops. Sometime later, not long after Galloran visited me, the neighboring chamber became inhabited by a titan crab. Since that day five men and one woman have visited me. Two tried to swim out. I know they failed because their corpses washed back into my chamber. The other four attempted to dodge past the crab. I beheld their demise.”

  “Did any try to kill the crab?”

  “Three made an effort to slay the crab once it became clear they would not outrun her. None came close.”

  Jason silently lamented not bringing the explosive stone. He had nothing to fight with. “What do you suggest?”

  Jugard shrugged. “To better understand, you should view Macroid.”

  “Is that the crab?”

  “The name I gave her.”

  “You can tell it’s a she?”

  “I know crabs.”

  They climbed down off the shelf. Jugard, clutching the luminous length of seaweed, led Jason to a long vertical crack in the wall on one side of the chamber. It was just wide enough for a man to walk through without turning sideways. “Why doesn’t the crab come through into here?”

  Jugard faced Jason, the green seaweed casting strange shadows and highlights across his furry countenance. “She is much too big.”

  Jason’s mouth felt dry.

  Jugard handed him the seaweed. “Peer cautiously through the crack before you enter the room. The crab is most likely in the water, but make certain. If she is out of sight, pass through the crack and go two steps beyond. You will notice a small gap on the far side of the room. Beyond that gap lies my ascender. Do not attempt to cross. Macroid will emerge from the water. Be ready. Her speed will astonish you. Retreat when she charges. You should witness her capabilities before you choose your course.”

  Jason slunk into the crack, shoulders brushing the walls of the narrow way as he crept forward. The cleft ran about six paces before ending abruptly.

  Hanging back from the opening, Jason held the seaweed forward, dispelling the darkness in the room beyond. It looked empty. Slowly he eased his head forward, imagining a huge crab waiting at one side of the opening, an enormous claw poised to snap shut on his head as soon as he stuck it out. He peeked quickly and immediately withdrew. Nothing was in sight.

  Jason stepped into the chamber. It was maybe twenty yards across. Like the previous chamber, a large portion was submerged in water. On the far side Jason saw the gap Jugard had described. He realized why Jugard had warned him not to make a break for it. With no giant crab in sight it appeared temptingly close. The intervening floor was smooth and largely free of obstacles. It was tempting even with the warning. Maybe the crab was asleep.

  At his second step into the chamber the crab erupted out of the salty pool in a single tremendous leap. A geyser of brackish water splashed against the ceiling, spraying the entire length and breadth of the room. In his shock Jason dropped the seaweed, taking an involuntary step backward as he wiped brine from his face.

  He gaped in awe at the titan crab. The massive creature was the size of a car, not including a huge pair of claws bigger than public mailboxes. The shiny black armor of its carapace gleamed wetly, reflecting the green luminance of the seaweed. The creature stood at the edge of the water, great claws upraised, snipping open and closed with a harsh shearing sound.

  Without warning the crab scuttled toward Jason in a horrifying burst of speed. He lunged back into the crack as the nimble creature sprang, hurtling through the air, black claws flashing. Jason fled through the cleft back to Jugard, pursued by the grating scrape of shell against stone and the shearing snip of eager claws.

  Jugard caught hold of Jason’s shoulders, steadying him as he tried to stop hyperventilating. “Now you comprehend your peril,” Jugard said. “Come.”

  Without the seaweed the chamber was once again lit only by daylight filtering in from outside. Jason followed Jugard back up to the ledge, where the wiry man squeezed a fresh length of seaweed. This one had a more bluish tint.

  “Is there a way to kill the crab?”

  “Probably not even with an army. Those claws are razor keen. I watched an excellent sword shatter against the shell.”

  “I can’t imagine surviving a swim out of here.”

  “You would have to swim a great distance. Those who have tried did not get far.”

  Jason considered the turbulent coastal waters. He had only survived because the waves had pushed him into the cave. Swimming against them would be suicide. Could he at least shout the syllable up to Rachel? He doubted she could hear him over the roar of the ocean. It might be worth a try. Then she could continue the quest on her own. It wouldn’t be fair to leave her stranded and exposed with the horseman after her.

  “How do you survive in here?” Jason wondered.

  “The sea provides. Fish, shellfish, urchins, kelp. They can all be eaten uncooked. And a trickle of fresh water runs into that basin over there.” Jason walked over to where Jugard indicated. At one end of the shelf, water tinkled into a natural basin, slowly overflowing off the shelf into the sea. The fresh trickle had to be a byproduct of the little stream atop the cliff. Unfortunately, the water emerged from a split in the rock the width of his finger—there would be no climbing up that way.

  “What should I do?”

  “I have no right to say. You are welcome to remain here as long as you choose. The variety is limited, but food and water exist in abundance.”

  “None of the others stayed.”

  Jugard shrugged his bony shoulders. “I presented them with similar cautions. They were heroes on important quests. They believed that where others had failed, they would succeed.”

  Jason returned to the wiry, grizzled man and sat beside him, back against the wall. He rubbed his cheeks, looking for stubble. He hardly had any facial hair. He wondered how long it would take for him and Jugard to look alike.

  CHAPTER 8

  MACROID

  Someone else is approaching,” Jugard said, disturbing Jason’s reverie. “Were you with anyone?”

  “Yeah,” Jason said, standing up. He could see a figure swimming out of the narrow passage into the grotto. “Rachel! Do you need help?”

  “I’m okay,” she gasped. “Something’s coming.”

  “What?”

  “I’m not sure. A mangler, maybe.” She reached the shallows and waded hurriedly toward the ledge, her homespun shirt clinging wetly.

  “A mangler couldn’t follow you in here,” Jugard said. “It would sink like a stone.”

  Coughing, Rachel climbed the handholds to the ledge. She had removed her vest and shoes. Her shirt and pants dripped copiously.

  “I’m Rachel,” she told Jugard.

  “Jugard,” the shaggy man responded.

  “What happened?” Jason asked.

  “I freaked out,” she apologized, trying to wring out her shirt. “Not too long after you jumped, something came tearing down the slope. It ignored the road, racing straight at me. It wasn’t a horseman. It kept low enough that all I could really see was the motion.”

  “What did you do?” Jason asked.

  “I thought about using the orantium. But I didn’t really know what was coming. I knew it was fast and could keep low. I started to worry I might make a bad throw and miss it. Once it got past the bend in the lane and kept heading straight for me, I panicked.”

  “Did you bring the orantium?” Jason asked hopefully.

  Rachel shook her head. “I was worried it might detonate when I hit the water. So I stashed it, took off my vest, and jumped. I didn’t have time to think it through.”

  “Rough swim?” Jason asked.

  She laughed shakily. “It almost killed me.” She slapped his chest with the back of her hand. “By the w
ay, I didn’t appreciate you cheating after the coin toss. We need to be able to trust each other.”

  “I had your best interest in mind.”

  “Whatever followed you is still coming,” Jugard announced.

  “How do you know?” Jason asked.

  “I know the natural sounds of this place,” Jugard assured him. “I can hear something snorting and gasping, something bestial.”

  “I don’t see anything yet,” Jason said.

  “You will,” Jugard replied.

  Gurgling growls and churning splashes heralded the creature’s arrival to the grotto. Jason, Rachel, and Jugard clustered at the front of the ledge to observe as the animal entered the cavern, struggling toward the shallows from the deeper water across the chamber. The beast seemed inept at swimming, its sizable head bobbing in and out of sight. Jugard twisted a short piece of seaweed and tossed it into the water to better illuminate the approaching creature.

  “Boarhound,” Jugard murmured, astonished.

  Rachel backed away from the edge as the oversized bulldog reached the shallows and charged, baying wildly, to the base of the ledge, ten feet below Jason and Jugard. The animal began hopping ferociously, coming within a foot or two of the ledge despite its bulky body and stubby legs. Foam lathered its wide jaws.

  “Boarhounds are not typically fond of water,” Jugard said. “Do you know this animal?”

  “Puggles,” Jason said. “I think I saw this boarhound at a woman’s house a couple of days ago. I heard she was attacked and captured yesterday.”

  The dog continued bounding at them tenaciously despite repeated failure. Jugard stared intently. “This animal has been conscripted.”

  Jason turned to Jugard. “What does that mean?”

  Jugard pinched some of his whiskers and started twirling them. “Conscriptors have been known to turn animals to their own uses.”

  “What are conscriptors?” Rachel asked.

  Jugard gave her a bemused look. “You must be a Beyonder as well. Conscriptors recruit for Maldor. They are among his most elite soldiers, trained to raise armies from conquered towns or kingdoms. Some specialize in recruiting animals. This dog knew your scent. A conscriptor has transformed it into an assassin, warping it until its only purpose became to track you down and slay you.”