A World Without Heroes

by Brandon Mull

  “How did you get away?” Rachel asked. Her ankles hurt from squatting, so she shifted to a kneeling position.

  “I was held in a cell with a fellow called Drake, a seedman, one of Dinsrel’s closest counselors, and Rex, Dinsrel’s top assassin. Rex had smuggled a lockpick into the cell in his hair. During the night he sprang the lock to our cell. Rex killed the first guard silently, but the next one raised an alarm. There was no way to rescue the others. Drake and Rex fought their way topside with me in tow and leaped into the sea.

  “Rex was slain by an arrow in the water. We were miles from shore, but Drake managed to swim the distance while keeping my head above water. My hand clung to the back of his neck the whole way. Had the ship been much farther out to sea, I would not be here today.

  “When Drake made it to the beach, he was exhausted. Poor fellow collapsed right there on the sand. Before sunup I roused him by flicking his eyelid. He picked me up and headed inland.

  “I spent a long time as a piece of luggage, passed from person to person. After a season I received word of another defection by a displacer: Maldor’s chief scribe, Salzared. That was when I learned of the Word. A man who had learned the fifth syllable brought me here. Eventually he left. I have remained ever since, preserving a fragment of the Word, years upon years.”

  “Quite a story,” Rachel said.

  “Would you mind terribly lowering my lips to the water so I can take a drink? It is such a bother to shuttle water in my palm.”

  “Of course. Why don’t you stay nearer to the water?” The head was about six feet away. It was a wonder the arm could bring any water to him. Rachel supposed he had a lot of practice.

  “In case of a heavy rain. Twice I almost drowned, this place filled so quickly. I just barely managed to push my head away in time. It can be slow going with just an arm.”

  Rachel carried the hairy, wrinkled head to the edge of the pool and lowered it carefully, holding the long beard back as best as she could, until the lips touched the surface. The head drank greedily, finally stopping with a satisfied sigh. “I have not drunk so well since Galloran was here.”

  “Was he the last to visit you?”

  “Correct. How did he fail? He was almost finished when he found his way here.”

  “I don’t know all the details,” Rachel said. “He was captured and brainwashed. He has forgotten most of what he learned. But he helped me and a friend begin our search for the Word.”

  “A shame. A good man, Galloran. You may return me to my resting place.”

  Rachel situated the head as it had been before.

  “We have overlooked introductions,” the head said. “I am Malar.”

  “I am Lady Rachel of Caberton.”

  The white eyebrows went up. “Caberton. A handsome estate.”

  Rachel shook her head. “Not anymore. Galloran gave my friend and me the title, but I have heard the estate has fallen into disrepair.”

  “A shame. In my day it was one of the finest. Times change when you are shut away in a cavern. This friend is male?”

  “Yes?’

  “And he let you brave the lake?”

  “I insisted,” Rachel said. “I’m a runner.”

  “You have spirit. He’s a lucky man.”

  “We’re not . . . We’re just friends.”

  “I assume you desire knowledge of the Word.”

  “Yes, please.”

  “The fifth syllable is ‘dra.’ Have you visited the sea cave?”

  “I have.”

  “What syllables do you lack?”

  “The second and the sixth.”

  “You are doing well. The sixth is in the keeping of the Pythoness, in the heart of the Sunken Lands, north and east of here. The second lies very far to the southeast, in the Temple of Mianamon. I would not know where the second lay, were it not for Galloran. He is the only person I know to have ever found it.”

  Rachel sat down. She felt relieved to have a path again. Now she could put a name to the locations of the missing syllables! And they had two thirds of the Word! Maybe Ferrin would know about the Temple of Mianamon.

  “You say you served Maldor, as did that other displacer, Salzared. Do many displacers serve him?”

  The head chuckled. “Have you been in a cave yourself? They all do, by covenant. We are his spies.”

  Chills tingled up Rachel’s back. “All of them? Are you sure?”

  “To my knowledge only Salzared and I have ever betrayed him. Our race was created by Maldor’s old master, Zokar. Things may have changed outside, but certainly not that much.”

  Rachel put a hand over her mouth. “We’re traveling with a displacer.”

  Malar grimaced. “How did you not know any better? Are you a Beyonder?”

  Rachel nodded.

  Malar looked surprised at the nod, as if his question had been intended as a rhetorical expression. “Well, that explains it. Is it just you three traveling together?”

  “It is.”

  “How did you fall into company with this limb dropper?” He spat the title as an expression of contempt.

  “His head was dangling in a bag at a crossroads. His body was buried nearby. He said he had been robbed.”

  Malar looked downward, as if ashamed to be a displacer himself. “A predictable setup, playing off your ignorance. Has he been with you long?”

  “A good while.”

  “He has been a faithful companion?”

  “He feels like our only real friend.”

  “Then he is an observer,” Malar said. “Confront him, and he should leave without violence, unless times have drastically changed.”

  “When should I confront him?”

  “Immediately. Every move you have made with him in your company has been or will be reported to Maldor. Every strength you have, every weakness, every asset, every plan. And there will be other minions of Maldor nearby, ready to strike. After you break company with him, get away fast.”

  “This is a nightmare,” Rachel said.

  “Life gets no more difficult than when a person opposes Maldor. Believe me, I know.”

  “Do you mind if I take a drink?”

  “Help yourself. You must be parched after the run across Whitelake.”

  Rachel bent over at the edge of the pool and began gulping down the water. It tasted strongly of minerals and was so cold it made her teeth ache. Despite the raging thirst the first sips awakened, she had to pull back several times because it was so frigid.

  “How does the water stay so cold?”

  “Magic.”

  Rachel stared.

  “I’m not jesting. A stone that emits perpetual cold lies at the bottom. It prevents this room from becoming a furnace. Some old wizard designed this sanctuary.”

  “I have another question. Do you know how I can return to the Beyond?”

  Malar scrunched his brow. “There I cannot help you. It is said that long ago there were more gateways to the Beyond than now exist. I myself know of none. There was a rumor in my day that Maldor guarded a secret involving such a portal. I learned no details, and the scant information I heard came from questionable sources.”

  Rachel sat down near the head. “I don’t look forward to running back across the lake.”

  “I often wonder how many have died trying to cross it. In all my years here only four men have ever found me. I have dwelled here for decades. Although I was getting old when I came here, displacers age more slowly than other men and have hardier constitutions. Would you feed me some moss before you go?”

  Rachel moved around the room, ripping up moss. When she squeezed it, a sticky fluid oozed out. She fed some to Malar.

  “You should eat some,” Malar said. “This stuff is full of energy. It will help in your dash over the lake.”

  Rachel smelled it. The moss had no scent, unless it was faintly like grass clippings. She tasted some. It was almost unbearably bland, and it triggered her gag reflex.

  The head chuckled. �
�I wish I could say I have developed a taste for the stuff. All I can profess is a tolerance.”

  Rachel forced herself to eat more. She did not want to sink into the hot lake for lack of energy because she was a picky eater.

  “Good girl,” Malar encouraged.

  Finally she ingested a good portion of the bland moss.

  “Give yourself an hour or two,” Malar recommended. “That is when your energy should peak. Have some more water. Don’t drink any during the last thirty minutes before you run. Before you go, soak your shirt and hair. It will help you stay cool. And run to the shore to the east, right across from where you came in. It is closest, though not by much.”

  Rachel nodded. She drank more water from her cupped hand. Then she lay down and fell asleep.

  She awoke with the head yelling. “Lady Rachel! Lady Rachel! Wake up!”

  Rachel sat up with a start, squinting and rubbing her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. It has been over two hours. You should probably get started.”

  Rachel stood and began her stretching routine. Afterward she submerged her head in the water, and came up sputtering and shivering. Then she soaked her clothes. Goose pimples stood out on her arms. “Hard to believe I will be hot in a couple of minutes.”

  “Believe it.”

  “I guess this is good-bye,” Rachel said. “Do you want me to bring you with me? Get you out of here?”

  “I must remain to protect my syllable,” Malar said. “Powerful spells guard this chamber.”

  “Thank you for your help. Any parting advice?”

  “Be firm with your displacer. We can be a slippery breed.”

  “See you later.”

  “I doubt it. May you prosper in your quest. Safe journey.”

  “Thanks, Malar. Safe . . . moss eating.”

  CHAPTER 17

  JASHER

  Here she comes,” Ferrin announced, rising to his feet and brushing dirt from his pants.

  Jason looked up and saw a tiny figure scrambling down the rock pile toward the lake. Relief replaced anxiety. He had felt horrible when Rachel had tumbled at the end of her run, and then as he’d watched her motionless form on the rocky shore of the remote island. Finally she had arisen, disappearing into a cleft in the rocks. He and Ferrin had moved over to the side of the lake opposite the cleft Rachel had entered, but hours had dragged past without sight of her. Jason had begun to lose hope she would ever emerge.

  When Rachel reached the lake, she started jogging across. The heat in the air distorted her miniature form.

  “She’s coming right at us,” Jason said. “Should we go try to help her? Maybe carry her?”

  “We might do more harm than good,” Ferrin said. “One clumsy move and we all sink into the lake together. Hopefully, Rachel has recovered enough from her other run to make it back unaided.”

  Jason watched Rachel intently, determined to rush to her aid if she started to falter. She kept a solid pace, and he gradually relaxed as she drew nearer to the shore. Her clothes and hair were drenched, her face was flushed, and she squinted with exertion, but her strides remained firm as she jogged off the lake and slumped to her knees, coughing violently.

  “Are you all right?” Jason asked. “What can I do?”

  “Just give me a second,” she gasped, rising and walking with her hands laced behind her head.

  “You are amazing,” Ferrin said. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

  “No,” she replied, still panting. “We had bad information. I found nothing. Just an abandoned cave.”

  The displacer paused. “Why choose this moment to start lying to me?”

  Rachel glared at him. “Because I just found out you’ve been lying to us.”

  An awkward silence followed. Ferrin scratched his nose. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you are spying on us for Maldor,” she accused.

  “What?” Jason exclaimed.

  Rachel turned to Jason. “I learned on the island that Maldor uses displacers as his spies. They all work for him.”

  “Did I ever claim not to be a spy?” Ferrin said calmly.

  “Are you blaming us?” Rachel ranted. “Were we supposed to ask? Where we come from, when you make new friends, it’s implied they won’t spy on you on behalf of your greatest enemy.”

  “The Beyond sounds wonderful,” Ferrin said, his tone guarded.

  “Wait, so it’s true?” Jason asked in disbelief. He felt like he had been sucker punched.

  “How much do you know about us?” Rachel asked.

  Ferrin shrugged. “More than you’ve told me. I know you come from the Beyond. I know you’ve consorted with Galloran. I know you’re on a quest to find the Word that can destroy Maldor. And I’m sure you just acquired part of it on that island.”

  “You know about the Word?” Jason asked.

  “Not many do,” Ferrin replied, “even among Maldor’s inner circle. Naturally, none of us know details.”

  “You’ve been a liar from the start,” Rachel spat.

  Ferrin shook his head. “Actually, I’ve mostly been genuine.”

  Rachel scowled. “You said you had been robbed when we found you at the crossroads.”

  “Yes. That was a lie. I told a few lies to gain your trust.”

  Jason balled his hands into fists. “You betrayed us.” He wanted to punch Ferrin in the face. “No wonder everyone hates displacers. We were just too stupid to find out why.”

  Ferrin frowned and raised a finger. “I have aided and protected you. My presence has prevented numerous conscriptors and manglers from falling upon you. I have come along as an observer, not an enemy. I truly enjoy your company and think very highly of you.”

  Ferrin sounded hurt. Jason rolled his eyes. This was unbelievable. “So what now?”

  “Come with me,” Ferrin said. “I will take both of you to Maldor. You’re good people. Maldor appreciates good people. If you pledge yourselves to him, he will likely grant you comfortable positions of considerable power. I will vouch for you. You could make worthwhile lives for yourselves.”

  “And if we won’t come?” Rachel said, picking up her cloak and wrapping it around her shoulders.

  Ferrin lifted his hands, palms outward. “I know you’re reaching for your orantium, Rachel. I searched your things while you two slept. There will be no need for violence. Should you refuse my help, I will leave. I would never harm either of you. It is part of my role as an observer. I began my association with you knowing I was free to be your true friend. Maldor prefers it that way to help ensure more accurate intelligence. He is fascinated with the character of his enemies, and is always looking to turn the best of them into allies. At my discretion I can even help you, and I did, like when those men tried to attack you and we ended up in jail. I will never be asked to spill your blood, nor would I if ordered. I sincerely like and respect both of you. But once I am gone, you will lack my protection, and there are many enemies on your trail. Brave and resourceful as you are, you will not get far.”

  “Why don’t you really help us?” Jason asked. “Abandon Maldor. With your help we might piece together the rest of the Word.”

  Ferrin laughed. “I would never change sides. I could pretend to switch sides, and keep spying, if you want. Life is far from ideal serving Maldor, but it’s infinitely better than opposing him. I honestly am your friend and wish you no harm, but my first allegiance is to my duty.”

  Jason frowned. “This is insane.”

  “It is extremely sane,” Ferrin assured him. “Displacers learned long ago what it meant to be on the losing side. The races Eldrin sired, the Amar Kabal and the drinlings, inherited homelands, while the races of Zokar became wandering fugitives, despised and hunted. Last time the displacers fought for the wrong wizard. This time we stand with the only wizard. Do not delude yourself. Maldor will prevail. His real struggle ended years ago. Now he’s just mopping up.”

  “Not if we get the Word,” Rachel said.
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br />   Ferrin laughed again. “You have no chance of finishing the Word! Maldor has monitored you this entire time. When I became your observer, I had details of everywhere you had been. When he wants to capture you, he will. If you send me away, his forces will probably swoop in immediately. You can’t imagine the resources he could bring against you. Pray he does not send a lurker.”

  “We’re not going to quit,” Jason said.

  “I never really expected you to resign,” Ferrin sighed. “I just wish you would. Try not to resist when they come for you. They will kill you if you fight. Or you might kill yourselves, if you’re not careful with that orantium.”

  “Thanks for the advice,” Rachel said bitterly.

  “Don’t be so spiteful,” Ferrin said. “You should be flattered. Maldor rarely dispatches an observer. He has not shown this much interest in an adversary for several years.”

  “We’re deeply honored,” Jason said dryly.

  Ferrin folded his arms. “You’re from the Beyond. Why do you care about stopping Maldor anyway?”

  Jason shrugged. “It just sounded like fun.”

  “Be serious,” Ferrin said.

  Jason paused, reflecting. “I don’t know. I came to Lyrian by accident. I found the stupid book by accident. Then I met Galloran, who explained about Maldor. Even after leaving him, I was still most interested in getting home.”

  “Why not make that your focus?” Ferrin encouraged. “I might be able to help you there. This isn’t your world. This isn’t your battle.”

  Jason frowned. “It’s becoming my battle. This might not be my world, but it’s a world. A whole world. Innocent people living in fear and having terrible things happen to them for no reason. Aster was killed, and Franny had her life ruined, just for being nice to me. Norval gave his life for me. The more I see of those who work for Maldor, and the more I see of the few people who try to go up against him, the more I realize this is truly good against evil. And good is losing. What if we can change that?”