Chasing the Prophecy (Beyonders) (38 page)

Concern for her friends warred against her rage at the mental intrusion. After a moment, Rachel bridled her anger enough to respond rationally. “You’re not here to help them. Or me. You’re here to mess with my mind. How do I get rid of you?”

“Don’t be so hasty,” Maldor warned. “This illusion took considerable time and effort to establish. You should hear my proposal.”

Rachel took a deep breath. What if she attacked him? What if she used Edomic to set the sofa on fire and hurl it at him?

“You can’t hurt me here,” Maldor said. “I can make this much less pleasant, if you wish.”

“Don’t read my thoughts,” Rachel snapped.

“They’re hard to miss,” Maldor apologized. “After all, this is your mind.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

“I imagine not. You have so little control. I could teach you to lock out incursions such as this.”

Rachel frowned. “That’s a class I might sign up for.”

“Shall we talk?” Maldor said, sitting down. “Tark or Io could get badly hurt if this takes too long. The more quickly we converse, the safer they’ll be.”

“Fine. All right.” Rachel sat down on the sofa. She had never felt so conscious in a dream before. So alert and lucid. It seemed no different from full consciousness.

“Where did Jason go?” Maldor inquired.

Rachel felt panic. She tried not to think about him.

“Windbreak Island? Interesting. That explains much. I don’t see how he’ll survive. What guidance did you receive at Mianamon?”

“Get out of here!” Rachel yelled.

Maldor snapped his fingers. The sofa folded up around her, trapping her in a cushioned embrace. She remained in a seated position, cocooned from her ankles to her mouth. She could only manage muffled protests. She tried to will the sofa to release her, but it refused to budge.

“Hmmm,” Maldor mused. “Fascinating prophecy. I suppose there must be some minuscule chance for his survival. This is very useful information, by the way. Do you think your quests could possibly work? An attack on Felrook would be suicide for all involved. If I permit you to speak, will you be civil? Blink once for yes, twice for no.”

Angry and frustrated, Rachel blinked once.

The cushions unfolded from her mouth. “We’ll beat you.”

Maldor laughed. “She glimpsed one way, Rachel. The oracle glimpsed a single unlikely chain of coincidences that could stop me amid countless ways to fail. She neglected to offer many specifics. Now that I know what you are trying to do, it will be that much easier to stop you. Thank you, Rachel, for this priceless intelligence.”

Rachel squirmed. The sofa held her fast. She wanted to shout with frustration. Hot tears threatened.

“Don’t blame yourself,” Maldor urged. “I could have acquired this knowledge by a hundred different methods. Not that it matters. The oracle set you on a path that will require more than a miracle. It will require a prolonged series of miracles. Darian the Pyromancer is dead, Rachel. He has been dead for eons. Which Jason and his comrades will never learn, because they will perish
at Windbreak Island. I won’t need to twitch a finger. The Maumet will see to their fate. And Galloran will undoubtedly die leading his foolhardy siege. There is no question.”

Maldor leaned forward. He spoke softly. “That prophecy is one of the nicest gifts anyone has ever given me. It brings me considerable peace of mind. I had worried that it might be dangerous. According to the oracle, somewhere in the future awaits some remote possibility of me coming to harm. I’ll be sure to defend against that implausible eventuality. Thanks to the prophetess, I now know where to focus my efforts.”

Maldor snapped his fingers, as if concerned Rachel’s attention might be straying. “Look at the situation with a practical eye. The prophecy will put all of my most capable enemies into extremely vulnerable positions years before I could have managed it on my own. I will win my war twenty years earlier than expected, all thanks to the dying words of a withered schemer.”

Rachel had no response. She wanted to weep. She wanted to scream.

“You’re concerned about your friends,” Maldor said tenderly. “I’m here to make an offer. I’ve thought about you in the months since you escaped my servants at the Last Inn. With the passage of time, I’ve grown increasingly certain that I wish to train you.”

“Never,” Rachel gasped.

Maldor smiled. “Don’t be so quick to deny me. At least hear the proposal, so you can understand who your refusal will be killing. Look at this through my eyes. Soon I will have subdued all of Lyrian. There will always be decisions to make, a vast empire to manage. Much of that will become tedium, and most of it can be handled by underlings. Once Lyrian is conquered, I can see myself regretting not having an adept like you to train. Edomic talent tends to be hereditary. So many gifted bloodlines have failed that
you may represent my last opportunity to pass my knowledge forward to a worthy apprentice.”

“I don’t want it,” Rachel said.

“No need to play games. No need for posturing. No need to act brave or defiant. We’re alone here. You may not want to employ Edomic in all the same ways I use it, but you crave the knowledge. You’ve been working hard to attain greater knowledge ever since you discovered your talent. I can feel how you relish the power, how you exult in it. I can feel how you yearn to gain enough mastery to destroy me. I will install means to prevent you, but you’re resourceful. In time you may find a way to thwart my precautions and overthrow me. You’ll certainly have a better chance than any of your comrades.”

Rachel closed her eyes. She tried to wall her thoughts away from him, to close her intellect to his scrutiny.

“We’re in here together,” Maldor chuckled. “It’s too late to deny me admittance. Listen to my offer, and I will depart. I want you to come to me voluntarily. If you do, I will grant absolute, unconditional mercy to ten of your friends. Any you choose to name. Jason, Galloran, Corinne, even Ferrin. All are eligible. Not only will I spare them, but I will ensure that they live out their days in peace and comfort. If Jason so desires, I will even send him back to the Beyond. Perhaps he will have the good sense to stay put this time. Do not respond now. Mull it over, take a few days—weeks, even—without my presence to distract you. Think hard. You cannot imagine all you will learn, all you will achieve, all you will become. Most would offer me anything for this chance. I extend the opportunity to you freely, with generous promises attached. Respond by coming to me. Or by not coming to me. The choice is yours.”

Maldor stood. The sofa unfurled back to its normal shape.
Maldor looked around. “You had a pleasant home. I can see the appeal. But your parents have moved on. So should you. Farewell, until we meet again.”

Maldor walked out of the room.

Rachel’s dream mom entered with a tray of cookies. Rachel eyed her numbly. Her dream mom set the tray in front of Rachel on the coffee table. “There we go. Peanut butter, your favorite.”

“You’re not my mom,” Rachel said.

The black eyes betrayed no emotion. “Of course not. Have a cookie.”

“I want to wake up.”

Her dream mom was walking out of the room. “Then have a cookie.”

Rachel was left alone. She selected a peanut butter cookie and held it up. The texture was as she remembered. It was still slightly warm from the oven. She sniffed it suspiciously. The cookie smelled delicious.

She took a bite. Just as the flavor started to hit her tongue, Rachel opened her eyes. She was in her room at Trensicourt, on her wide, soft bed. It had not felt like waking up. Not a bit. Her mind felt equally conscious as when she had sniffed the cookie. There had been no transition. Her eyes had been closed. Now they were open.

By the moonlight spilling through the window, Rachel could see a pair of lurkers beside her bed, like human shadows made three-dimensional. Reflecting none of the silvery glow, the figures were easily the darkest shade of black in the room, the kind of darkness found only in the most obscure reaches of space, beyond all starlight.

Her first impulse was to scream. But Tark and Io were in the next room. If she cried out, they would run in, attack the lurkers,
and die. Clenching her teeth, she held the scream inside.

The lurkers were here. They had been here for some time, all during her dream, at least. As far as she understood, they would show no aggression unless provoked. She thought about her charm necklace, the one that helped keep lurkers out of her mind. It was packed away. Lurkers weren’t supposed to be a threat in a city.

She stared at the motionless duo. Jason had told her that standing up to his lurker had helped. She should show no fear. Maybe she could learn something about them. Her hands were clenched into fists, her nails biting into her palms. She tried to calm herself and focus her thoughts.

Why did you invade my dreams?
Rachel asked with her mind.

The lurkers remained perfectly still.
We are messengers,
the lurker on the right replied.

It was a relief to perceive a coherent response. It made them seem less alien.
I thought you never came into cities
, Rachel conveyed.

Very seldom
, the lurker responded.

Maldor insisted
, Rachel guessed.

We could not refuse
.

Rachel furrowed her brow.
Was that really Maldor in my dream? Or just you?

Him through us
, the lurker replied.
We can reach one another.
Even without elaboration, she clearly understood that it referred to the other lurkers. They could keep in mental contact regardless of distance.
He was near one of us.

Rachel remembered conversations with Jason and the charm woman. If she wanted to know where these creatures originated, who better to ask?
Are you like me
?
Are you Beyonders?

We are Beyonders. We are not like you.

You’re from a different Beyond. Maldor controls you?

Within limits, by treaty
.

Why come to me in a dream? Why not communicate like this? Why show me my house and my parents? Why torture me?

We do not belong in these forms. A dream is more natural to us.

Dreams are more like the place you come from?
Rachel guessed.

More than the rest of this.
She could feel its disdain.

Are you trying to get away?
Rachel asked.
Are you prisoners? Are you trying to escape and get home? Is he controlling you?

The other lurker entered the conversation for the first time, the second mind recognizably different.
So many questions. Not your concern. Our assignment is complete.

The two lurkers darted across the room and sprang from the window. It was a long drop, but Rachel knew it would be no problem for the torivors. She had seen a torivor leap from the wall of a high ravine and land lightly.

The sudden absence of the torivors was almost more unsettling than their presence. Lurkers had invaded her mind, her dreams. Maldor had just spoken to her. He had spied on her thoughts, her home, her secrets. He had learned the prophecy. And he had made her an offer.

Why hadn’t she worn the charm necklace? Why had she assumed she didn’t need it while at Trensicourt?

Another question loomed, more terrible than all the others. Rachel tried to ignore it, but the sickening concern was inescapable. She wished she could bury the thought, keep it secret, even from herself. Maldor had emphasized that only one path would lead to his destruction, while billions would lead to his triumph. After learning the prophecy, he would be more prepared than ever to stop them. Rachel shivered. What if, by leaving her mind open to him tonight, she had already ruined the possibility of anyone defeating him?

CHAPTER
10

I
t’s an interceptor,” Aram said, lowering the spyglass and passing it to Jasher. Aram was short again, his voice pitched higher than at night. More than two days out from Durna, Jason, Nia, Jasher, and Aram huddled together at one side of the
Valiant
. Minutes before, a drinling high on the mainmast had spotted a ship on the eastern horizon.