Chasing the Prophecy (Beyonders) (111 page)

The room beyond the empty doorway was black. Her torchlight did not penetrate the darkness.

She could feel the lurkers beyond the threshold, their presence no longer muted or indistinct. There were dozens.

I need to speak to a representative
, Rachel conveyed.

You
, a torivor replied with recognition.
We are seldom visited.

I may not have much time
, Rachel emphasized.
I need to understand your relationship to Maldor. I may not be exactly like you, but I am a Beyonder as well. I want to free you.

Others have tried
, the lurker conveyed.
When Maldor sends us on assignments, we are not at liberty to communicate. But here we are, not operating under active instructions. Ask your questions.

Do you want to serve Maldor?
Rachel asked.

We want one thing
, the torivor replied, the slow words carrying heavy emphasis.
Our freedom. We yearn for home. We can
earn our freedom through service, according to the covenant.

Maldor bargained with you?
Rachel asked.

Zokar instituted the covenant. He summoned us to this world and then subdued us. Where we come from, we need not die. Life is always. Here we are more vulnerable. We had to agree to the covenant or perish. Some of us chose oblivion. Most compromised.

If the agreement was with Zokar, how does Maldor control you?
Rachel wondered.

The Myrkstone
, the torivor replied.
Truth is a principle of our existence. We cannot lie. We cannot break our oaths. Our oaths were bound to Zokar and the jewel. Maldor used the Myrkstone to secure our cooperation. We are under no other obligation to serve him. Our allegiance was to Zokar. Yet while the jewel survives, we remain bound to this world. Restricted by our vows, we are powerless to harm it. Only by fulfilling our covenants can we escape its power. We often resist the will of Maldor. We do not relish servitude. But as we fulfill our promises as established by the covenant, we can escape the Myrkstone and return home. In the end, when he asks, we comply.

Rachel thought about the command that had let her force open the burnished door.
What if I destroy the Myrkstone?

Then we would be free.

What if you agree to a new treaty with me? A treaty that goes into force after I destroy the stone? A treaty with simpler terms. A treaty that will free you sooner than your other arrangement.

Our interest would depend on your terms.

How many of you remain?

Seventy and one.

Rachel tried not to grin. She looked over her shoulder. Nobody was coming for her yet.
I’m not sure how long I have. We had better start negotiating.

CHAPTER
32

S
omeone was calling to her. It was not the first attempt. He sounded far away. It was hard to focus on the words. The meaning escaped her. She would respond later. Right now she was too tired.

The petitioner persisted. Not loudly, but earnestly. The plea for her attention blended with her disjointed dreams, gaining and losing prominence. The voice was familiar. Some instinct insisted that she concentrate.

Rachel, are you there? I know you can sense me. Rachel, you must heed me! Rachel, can you respond? Wake up, Rachel! Wake up!

Rachel opened her eyes. It was Galloran, his mind calling to hers. Her room was dark. She was in bed. She sat up. She felt disoriented. Her mouth was dry and tasted horrible. She was at Felrook! She had tried to attack Maldor and failed! The vicious headache she had expected was almost nonexistent.

Rachel. Respond to me, Rachel! I have vital news! Rachel?

The fervent words tickled at the edge of her awareness, faint as the last bounce of an echo.

Galloran?
she replied, putting some effort behind it.

Rachel! I have sought to reach you for two days.

Two days? Where are you?

On the lake. I could perceive your mind, but you were not lucid.

She was already feeling much more alert.
I’m so sorry about how I left! I thought I might be able to help from inside Felrook. I had no idea it could be dangerous for you guys.

I understand what you were attempting,
Galloran replied.
We were almost out of options. You were doing your best. Io was an unfortunate tragedy. You must not blame yourself. He chose to attack. Wartime decisions inevitably lead to casualties.

I tried to attack Maldor,
Rachel confessed.
He was sick from sending the lurkers, and I hoped to surprise him. I never stood a chance. I tried my best and overexerted myself. I’ve been unconscious. Two days?

Yes. We have little time. Jason shared the prophecy with us.

Really?

The eastern armies are on schedule. They should arrive by midday tomorrow. Rachel, you must flee Felrook before then. You must get well away. If not you will die with . . . minions.

What? I missed part of that!
The communication was growing even less distinct. She got out of bed, her legs wobbly. Her mouth tasted disgusting. She padded to the window and opened it, gazing out at the calm evening. The last of the light was fading in the west.

You must escape Felrook by tomorrow morning,
Galloran repeated.
Otherwise you will die beside Maldor and his minions. We have found a way to stop him. I cannot be more specific than that.

I’m not sure I can escape.

Darian the Seer had a message specifically for you. I think it is meant to help you survive. He wanted you to know that Orruck taught you—

The voice in her head was gone. Rachel leaned out the window and exerted her will.
What? Galloran? I lost you again! What about Orruck?

The words returned to her mind so faintly that she bowed her head, eyes closed, not daring to breathe.
Orruck taught you what you need to know. One of the commands Orruck imparted was developed by him to harm Zokar. The seer felt . . . useful.

Orruck taught me to call lightning
, Rachel replied, unsure whether he could hear her.
A massive burst of lightning. I’ve never tried it. And he taught me words to turn stone into glass. Do you think I need lightning?

Rachel?

I’m here! Do you think I need lightning?

The voice in her mind grew stronger.
Lightning or the other command. Lightning is volatile. Plan an escape. Take any risk necessary. You must be gone by midday. Your life depends on it. Figure out how Orruck’s commands might prove useful. Otherwise you die tomorrow. Come to me if you can. I will be in the western hills. I cannot sustain this communication. I apologize.

She could feel the strain behind his words.
I heard. I’ll do my best. Good luck.

Be brave. You can do this. I am counting on you to escape.

Is Jason all right?

He lives.
The words were so weak, she wondered if she might have imagined them.
Escape. I’ll watch for you.

The distant communication had evidently taxed Galloran to his limits. He would need his strength for whatever was happening tomorrow.
I got the message. Go rest. Thank you.

Rachel backed away from the window. She lit candles and lamps with Edomic. Her gentle headache felt like the result of sleeping too long rather than the punishing backlash of failed
Edomic commands. The effort of will to ignite the candles did not seem to enhance the pain. Neither had the conversation with Galloran.

She stopped to wonder whether Maldor could have overheard the exchange. With mental communication she usually sensed only messages targeted at her. But Galloran sometimes picked up thoughts she didn’t mean to send.

If Maldor had sensed their conversation, there was nothing she could do about it now. If he had that ability, or if the lurkers had used their abilities on his behalf, she would just have to hope that nobody was paying attention.

There were two pitchers on the table. One gave off a strong odor. The scent triggered memories. She had wakened several times to sip that pungent solution. Her recollection of those moments was hazy—her head and shoulders propped up by pillows, a cup offered by a gnarled hand, a taste like nutty egg yolks accented by a distinctly metallic tang. Sometimes the drink had been warm, other times room temperature. Unable to resist her weariness, she had always sunk right back to sleep.

How heavily had they drugged her? The agony she had begun to experience after challenging Maldor lingered only as a vague discomfort. But she had lost two days! She had intended to find some way to help Galloran from inside Felrook before the enemy armies arrived. Instead, she had spent the time in a stupor.

She could not rest any longer. The other pitcher smelled like water. She poured some into her cupped palm and splashed the liquid against her face. Then she filled a glass. Walking to the window, she swished around a mouthful and spat it out. Then Rachel gargled another two mouthfuls. The gargling reduced the hideous taste in her mouth. The foulness went beyond the nasty flavor of
oversleeping. Some of the vileness had to be a consequence of the medicine.

Slowly sipping water, Rachel tried to decide what she should do. According to Galloran, she did not need to fret about winning the war from inside Felrook. Jason had come through. He had delivered the prophecy, and Galloran had learned some secret that would let him destroy the fortress. She just needed to worry about getting out.

But how could she do that? Maldor had proven much more powerful than her. Using all her strength while he was weakened, she hadn’t managed to scratch him. Maybe she could slip out of the fortress with a series of Edomic suggestions. Working with Ferrin, she had learned how to pick locks. Was it possible that she could make it all the way out of Felrook by picking locks and nudging minds?

The prospect seemed unlikely. She would have to get past too many guards. She could distract a few temporarily with Edomic, but eventually they would catch on, and an alarm would be raised. Besides, what would prevent Maldor from sending a torivor to retrieve her?

Rachel rubbed her face with both hands. Despite her many worries, Jason had done his part. How did he keep succeeding against all odds? What would he do if he were trapped here? She had to think like him. She had to find a way.

Galloran now had the information he needed. It was terrific, surprising news, except that it meant coming here had been totally unnecessary. She should have had more faith in Jason and his mission. If she had just held on a couple days more before caving in to her fears . . .

Then again, Jason had received a specific message for her. Darian had provided a clue. Was it meant to reach her here?
Could she still be within the boundaries of the prophecy? Or had that clue been meant to find her under other circumstances? Had she already blown it?

There was no rewriting history. She had made her decision with the information she’d had at the time. She had to accept her situation. Her focus needed to be on what she would do now.

If she discounted the clue from Jason, she would be adrift without a compass. She had to trust that the message pertained to her current situation. The secret of her escape must involve what Orruck had taught her. The former apprentice of Zokar had forced her to demonstrate her ability to push objects with Edomic. He had also taught her a command involving lightning and a command that could turn stone to glass.

Rachel had never attempted the lightning command. The phrasing would not allow the directive to be issued on a small scale. Galloran had warned that electric commands tended to be unstable. In ancient times, even the strongest wizards had generally avoided them.