Chasing the Prophecy (Beyonders) (16 page)

“How are you holding up?” Jason asked.

It took her a moment to respond. She shivered and rubbed her elbow. “Honestly? I’m kind of worried. I’ve had this persistent feeling of dread lately. Like something bad is coming.”

“Tonight?”

Her brow furrowed as she looked up at the moon. “I’m not sure. I hope not.”

“Might just be the prophecy,” Aram said, joining the conversation unexpectedly. “I’ve felt unsettled ever since it was spoken. Nobody wants to hear that the odds are stacked heavily against them. It’s one thing to suspect it. Another thing to know it.”

“That’s probably it,” Corinne said, looking up and back at Aram.

“We should be fine for a while,” Jason said. “Nobody has seen us. Even among the others at Mianamon, nobody knows where we’re going.”

“Maldor must have been furious when we fled into the jungle,” Farfalee said, approaching and placing a foot on the edge of the
boulder beside Jason. “It is one of the few places where he holds little influence. He’ll be watching for us to emerge all along the border.”

“He knows we were with Galloran,” Aram said. “He’ll pay special heed to the roads leading to Trensicourt.”

“Perhaps,” Farfalee conceded. “Jason is correct that stealth remains our best asset for the present. I’m going to take a look around.” Farfalee strolled away into the shadows.

“The eagles,” Aram muttered once she was out of earshot. “I could do without the eagles. If a tracker knew his trade, those eagles could lead him straight to us. Otherwise I can’t imagine how the emperor—”

“Lurkers,” Jason interrupted. “He’s used them before.” Jason fingered the strand of beads and bone around his neck. “I still have the necklace Rachel brought me from the charm woman. But since Drake gave his to Galloran, the rest of our minds are open to them.”

“I’d sense a lurker,” Corinne said. “I could hear the one that attacked Father. If one reached for us mentally, I’d know.”

“Best not to discuss such things,” Aram said with an air of superstition. “The less our thoughts turn their way the better.”

Jason decided not to add that the best way to get him to focus on something was to tell him not to think about it.

The moon slowly moved across the sky. Corinne leaned back and closed her eyes. Jason tried not to stare at her. Weird that she could totally take him in a swordfight. He had seen her practicing with her father, and she was out of his league.

Jason folded his arms. He glanced at Aram, who had settled on the ground, his broad back to the boulder. Hypothetically, would he have a chance against Aram in a duel? No way. The half giant had such a long reach and swung so hard. What about Jasher? Or
Drake? Not if they were really trying. He could spar with them, but if it came down to it, life or death, they would certainly beat him. What if he was using his torivorian sword? No, not unless it shattered Jasher’s blade, and then the seedman tripped or something. Farfalee had never taken a big interest in hand-to-hand combat. Jason thought he might have a chance against her if she didn’t put an arrow through him from a mile away.

Corinne breathed softly, her elegant features bathed in moonlight. Jason shifted around, trying to get more comfortable on the boulder. He was definitely a better fighter than he used to be, but if every member of his team could defeat him in combat, didn’t that make him the weakest link? When things got bad, what was he supposed to contribute?

He understood how Rachel would help. As her Edomic abilities increased, her value grew exponentially. He remembered her sending that flaming table across the main room at the Last Inn. That was some serious power. He could picture her making a difference on her mission. He just didn’t understand why the oracle had paid so much attention to him.

Maybe he was stressing too much. Maybe he just needed to relax. Hopefully, if he stayed ready and tried his best, he would manage to make himself useful when the time came. Why did he feel like he was totally kidding himself?

Aram began to snore. Farfalee, obviously restless, came and went a few times. And then the sound of approaching hoofbeats brought Jason, Corinne, and Aram to their feet.

“That has to be good, right?” Jason said. “Horses?”

“I don’t sense anything bad,” Corinne said, wiping her eyes.

“They’re coming right at us,” Aram whispered. “Jasher or Drake would never have given us up. Let’s take cover just in case.” He drew his enormous sword, from pommel to tip about as long as
Jason was tall, the blade heavy and sharp. Aram held it casually in one hand. Most grown men would struggle to heft it with two.

The threesome ducked into the cover of some bushes. Farfalee joined them after a moment, an arrow nocked and ready. Aram pried the lid off one of the buckets of orantium.

Eight horses with six riders trotted into view. Four of the riders were drinlings. “All clear,” Jasher called from astride his mount.

Jason and the others emerged from hiding.

“We made four new friends,” Drake said. “They’re well provisioned.”

“I only count two spare mounts,” Farfalee observed.

“Two of us will now make our way afoot,” said one of the newcomers, his words accented.

“We’d hate to strand you,” Aram said.

The drinling speaker smirked. “If we raced to Durna, the two of us on foot might beat you. Horses need rest. We don’t. A drinling can cover a lot of ground running at a full sprint day and night. All he needs is food.”

“Helps when he can eat dirt,” Jason said. “Or grass, or squirrels, or pinecones.”

“Sounds as though you know our ways,” the drinling said.

“Nia never fails to amaze me with what she can eat,” Jason said.

“She may amaze you again with the team she assembled,” the drinling replied. “Good people. We drinlings will get you on the water. We’ll defend you as best we can. The rest is up to you.”

Jason glanced at Corinne. She looked relieved. Hard times might be coming. But maybe not tonight.

CHAPTER
4

E
ven with the expert guidance of the treefolk, Jason found jungle travel exhausting. In the gloom beneath the dense canopy the humid air stayed oppressively hot and still. Hidden by the ferny undergrowth, roots and creepers crisscrossed the uneven ground, ready to catch a toe or turn an ankle. At times the group would take to the trees, moving along massive limbs or traversing camouflaged bridges fashioned from vines.

The way proved challenging at its gentlest—without the guides the pathless journey would have been hopeless. The treefolk navigated around endless thickets of impenetrable vegetation without ever needing to pause or double back. They avoided numerous carnivorous plants: huge, quivering mouths on nimble stalks; squidlike, thorny tendrils that attacked from above; bulging bulbs poised to emit poisonous spores; and sticky mats ready to enfold the unwary. Dangerous snakes, centipedes, and spiders were identified and eluded. Twice, the treefolk waited silently with the group, high in a tree, while a jungle cat the size of a horse prowled down below, great bunches of muscle churning beneath a glossy pelt.

At times the abundant plant and animal life distracted Jason from the taxing terrain. With the mild winter waning, blossoms flourished throughout the jungle, from elaborate trombone-shaped flowers to glorious blooms on corkscrew vines to delicate orchids of infinite color and variety. Exotic birds with vibrant plumage and monkeys of all description populated the trees. After they happened across a large family of obese, blue-gray apes, the others had to drag Jason away. He would have contentedly watched the shaggy brutes toddle about on their stumpy legs for the rest of the afternoon.

The treefolk foraged most of the food for the group. Diverse fruit, rich nectar, savory mushrooms, peculiar nuts, and crunchy grubs made up the majority of their meals. Jason enjoyed the unusual diet and seldom craved hot food in spite of its absence.

One steamy morning Bahootsa, the thorn-encased leader of the eight treefolk escorts, announced that they were approaching the northern perimeter of the jungle, where imperial soldiers had been known to venture. When he suggested a break for the day to allow five of the treefolk to scout ahead, nobody complained.

They stopped beside a swift brook with banks of dense red clay. Trees and shrubs didn’t crowd the stream, which created a clearing of sorts—a rare sight in the heavily vegetated region.

Wandering along the brook away from the group, Jason drew the torivorian sword Galloran had given him. The elegant weapon felt lighter than it looked. He held the blade horizontally in front of his face, staring at the clear reflection of his eyes in the burnished metal, and saw Corinne approaching from behind. Jason turned.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Corinne asked.

Jason thought
she
was easily the most beautiful thing in sight.
The realization made him embarrassed, so he looked around, trying to appreciate what she meant. Tall palm trees with broad fronds screened the morning sun. Bright birds flapped and perched overhead. The aroma of tropical blossoms filled his nostrils. “It’s like paradise.”

Corinne smiled. “I meant the sword.” Her hand rested on the hilt of her matching blade.

“Right.” Jason swished it through the air, trying to look heroic. “It feels so light.”

“Mine too,” Corinne said. “But don’t worry. The sword will feel plenty heavy to your enemies. Father explained that the blades contain more mass than the wielder feels.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Jason said, holding the sword vertically. “At the Last Inn, Galloran slashed through helmets and armor like they were made of paper.”

“You should practice with the sword,” Corinne urged. “Get used to how it differs from other weapons. The shock of impact feels dampened. The blade swings light but strikes heavy.” She drew her sword and stabbed it through the trunk of a palm tree with an easy thrust. The tree was nearly a foot thick, but the sword penetrated the wood effortlessly, the polished blade protruding from the far side. Corinne withdrew the sword.

Jason swung his sword back and forth a few times, then approached the same trunk Corinne had stabbed and hacked at it with the edge. He swung hard and expected the blade to bite deep, but he was surprised when the sword passed clean through the tree without too much resistance. Jason skipped aside as the palm tree toppled in his direction.

“Careful,” Corinne laughed after the tree had crashed down parallel to the brook.

“That’s what I call sharp,” Jason said, inspecting the blade
with new respect. Passing through the trunk had left no stain on the reflective surface. “We should become lumberjacks.”

“Maybe someday,” Corinne said wistfully. “I’d rather chop trees than people.”

“Don’t get all serious on me,” Jason complained. “You’re as bad as Rachel.”

“You miss her.”

Jason shrugged, looking away. “It was nice having her around. I worry about her. I try to remind myself that she’s in good company. I bet you miss the mental chats. With Galloran and Rachel gone, you’re the only telepathic person around.”

“I’m not sure I appreciated how much I relied on speaking in silence until the option was taken from me. I’ve tried several times to reach out to them over the great distance, but with no hint of success.”

“You guys never could make it work over more than a mile or so.”

“And only that far with considerable effort.”

“Well, it’ll be good exercise for your lips.”

“It’ll be good exercise for your lips,” Jason’s voice repeated from behind him. Jason whirled, sword ready, baffled by the perfect echo. He glanced over at Corinne. “Did you hear that?”

“Did you hear that?” replied a voice not far off in the jungle. Once again the speaker managed a perfect impersonation of Jason. Taking a few steps in the direction of the impostor, Jason found himself staring at a creamy parrot with a frill of orange feathers around its head.

Corinne stepped toward Jason, sword in hand.
“It sounded just like you.”

“It sounded just like you,” the bird repeated in Corinne’s voice. It flitted from the branch it occupied to a perch farther from the brook. “Did you hear that?” the parrot asked in Corinne’s voice. “It sounded just like you,” the bird replied as Jason.