Chasing the Prophecy (Beyonders) (53 page)

Would the Maumet feel threatened at the start of any conflict from here on out? After the skirmish, it had experimented with different substances, becoming skin and leather and iron. If they could just hit the guardian with orantium when it was fragile, the problem might be solved.

Jason resisted crumpling the parchment. Was he dwelling too much on orantium because it was their best weapon? The prophecy seemed to suggest orantium would be important, but it had already served them well. And certainly it would be important as Galloran attacked Felrook.

The Maumet could transform instantly. What if they threw an explosive sphere, and the Maumet changed to crystal as the globe connected? It would be blasted into glitter. Might the Maumet arbitrarily change into crystal on contact? Or was it too smart? The Maumet had lived a long time. It knew how to survive.

What if they attacked it with crystal weapons? Or weapons made of a brittle substance? Then if at any point the Maumet transformed into the brittle material, they would bombard it with orantium. The others had considered a similar strategy. But it relied on the Maumet being stupid. The creature had shown a single hint of recklessness. The Maumet had become tooth
enamel and had lost a foot as a result. Could banking on a similar mistake be their best hope? Was that realistic?

What would be the ideal material for the Maumet to become? Glass? Crystal? Jason chuckled. Orantium would be nice. It would blast itself into nothing. But there was no way to even bring the creature in contact with orantium. Once exposed to air or water, the mineral immediately exploded. After a globe broke, the mineral would detonate before contact.

Wait.

There was an exception.

For the first time in quite a while, Jason found himself unable to resist a smile.

*  *  *

Within two hours they were ready to implement the plan. Gripping a collapsible spyglass in both hands, Jason felt he might burst with nervous excitement.

The tensest moment so far had come when Thag had rowed the bucket of orantium goo away from the
Valiant
. A single orantium globe was submerged inside the bucket, and he had crushed the sphere with a gloved hand.

He hadn’t blown up.

Now a team of three drinlings was aboard a launch, rowing toward shore. Sails angled to make use of the light breeze, the
Valiant
was sailing away to the east in order to put some distance between the ship and the possible explosion. If a little pebble of orantium could blow apart a mangler, and a piece the size of a racquetball could demolish a castle gate, how big would the bang be if this plan worked?

Among other concerns, Jason was seriously worried that if the trick succeeded, Thag and the other two drinlings going ashore might wish it hadn’t. Although the landing party was supposed to
try to row away before the fireworks began, the drinling squad was very likely on a kamikaze mission.

As the ship glided farther from the shore, Jason watched the mission unfold through his spyglass. Framed within the magnified circle, the Maumet appeared on the beach before the launch landed. It looked to be made of stone, but it was hard to be sure. It might have been gray wood.

The tall figure held still as the launch landed. After securing the launch in the shallows, two of the drinlings splashed forward and attacked the Maumet. Thag hung back with the bucket of goo containing the orantium pebble.

Dodging a blow from a long arm, one of the drinlings slammed the Maumet with a mace, but the creature immediately turned to iron, taking no damage. Body shrieking, the Maumet brutally dispatched the drinling. Thag and the other fighter retreated hastily to the launch, leaving the bucket on the beach near the water.

The idea was to make the bucket look accidentally abandoned. Selling the ploy had already cost one life and might cost two more. Thag and the other drinling rowed away from the beach at maximum speed.

The Maumet stalked up and down the beach near the water, iron joints squealing. Then it paced over to the fallen drinling. Crouching, the Maumet extended a hand and changed color.

“Bronze,” Farfalee said, peering through her own telescope. “He touched the ring.”

Each of the drinlings had worn a few trinkets of diverse materials in case they fell in combat, to hopefully get the Maumet in a mood to sample substances. Jason knew the transformation was a good sign.

“Now obsidian,” Farfalee reported as the Maumet became a glossy black. “The pendant. And now brass, the buckle on his
knife belt. It went for everything we planted. Now it’s moving toward the bucket.”

“We can see that much without lenses,” Drake murmured.

Jason swiveled his attention to Thag and the other drinling. Was the other survivor called Fo? Or had that been Fo back on the beach? They continued to row hard and had already put a fair amount of distance between themselves and the shore. Jason aimed the spyglass back at the Maumet.

Standing upright, brass body partially reflecting the water and the white sand, the creature stood over the abandoned bucket. Crouching, the Maumet touched the side of the bucket and turned to brown wood.

Jason held his breath.

“It’s reaching into the bucket,” Farfalee announced.

Jason lowered his spyglass, worried about the flash. Thag and the other drinling fell flat in the launch. Jason crouched, barely peeking over the side of the ship. Would it happen?

“He’s thinking about it,” Aram narrated hopefully.

Jason covered his ears, watching through squinted eyes. Would it happen? Would it happen?

Flaring a brilliant white, the Maumet erupted violently—a large primary blast followed by an enormous secondary explosion. The tremendous detonation sent vast quantities of sand and seawater spewing skyward. The concussion wave heaved water and sand outward and made the ship lurch, knocking Jason onto his backside. Even with his ears covered, the thunderous roar was painfully loud.

Regaining his feet, squinting as a peppering of debris began to rain down, Jason marveled at the steam and smoke mushrooming up from the blast site. Seawater surged to fill the gaping void of the blackened crater. Most of the white sand beach was simply gone, along with a great deal of the vegetation behind it.

The plan had worked! The Maumet had taken the bait, temporarily becoming orantium until the immediate consequence followed.

Thag and the other drinling stood up in the launch, pumping their fists in the air. Raucous cheering broke out aboard the
Valiant
. Drake hugged Farfalee, lifting her off her feet and twirling her around. Drinlings pantomimed the explosion and pointed at the churning smoke above the devastated beach.

Jasher clapped Jason on the back. “You just saved us all.”

Jason could barely understand the words, because his ears were still ringing. “We owe the drinlings who delivered the orantium.”

“They deserve thanks and praise,” Jasher agreed. “But the idea had to come first. You’re quite the trickster.”

“I’ll second that,” Aram exclaimed as heartily as his small frame would allow. “I’ll take cleverness over strength every time!”

Farfalee embraced Jason tightly. “You marvelous, brilliant boy!”

He had never seen Farfalee so unreserved. Nor Drake smiling so broadly. Jason hugged her back, enjoying the triumph of the moment.

Others pressed to congratulate him. Everyone was jubilant. The crew seemed even happier than when they had escaped the harbor. Hats were thrown high, some of them landing in the sea.

Jason realized that the threat of the Maumet had been hanging over them more heavily than any other concern. From the outset they had all known that this obstacle would probably end their lives. But now they had destroyed it with relatively few casualties. One massive blast and the threat had been vaporized.

Whooping and shouting along with the others, Jason managed to lose himself in the moment. There might be plenty of hardship still ahead of them, but right now they had a worthy cause for celebration.

CHAPTER
15
LIBRARY

O
nce the celebration over the demise of the Maumet subsided, the next phase of planning began. All agreed that haste was a top priority. They needed to secure the information from the library before the opportunity vanished. Even if the imperial forces of the Inland Sea did not know their current position, the tower of smoke rising into the atmosphere would be visible for many miles around. A number of vessels were likely to notice.

Within an hour Aram had the
Valiant
anchored off the eastern coast of Windbreak Island, just south of the new crater. Two launches made for shore, eight passengers in each, including Jason, Farfalee, Jasher, Drake, Aram, Nia, Heg, and a very pale and weary Corinne.

After landing on a strip of beige sand, Corinne flopped onto the beach, facedown, arms spread wide, as if trying to embrace the ground. Breathing deeply, she held the pose for a long moment. Jason squatted beside her, and she raised her head to look at him. Particles of sand clung to her lips, nose, and chin. Her face was ashen, with dark smudges under her eyes. Even worn out and sick, she remained pretty.

“Does it feel good to be back on land?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’m better already. Not all the way back yet. Might take a little time. The warm sand feels divine. I almost feel like eating something on purpose.”

“We’ll have to be fast,” Jason said.

“Don’t you dare,” Corinne scolded.

“Our enemies could catch up any minute,” Jason explained.

“I know.”

“Farfalee said the research might take days.”

“I like her.”

Jason saw that the others were ready to move out. A pair of drinlings had been assigned to guard Corinne. “I have to go.”

“Take your time. I’ll come find you when I feel better.”

“Such a nice beach,” Jason said, looking up and down the narrow stretch of sand. “It would be a shame to barf all over it.”

Corinne threw a handful of sand at him. He could tell she was already feeling more like herself.

Jasher strode over to Corinne and laid the sheathed torivorian sword on the sand beside her. “This belongs with you.”

“Thanks. You’re welcome to take it.”

The seedman shook his head. “I have my own sword. I want you properly armed.”

Another group of drinlings was heading toward the beach in the skiff that had trailed the
Valiant
out of Durna. “What are they up to?” Jason asked.

“Foraging,” Jasher said. “You know how much food the drinlings require. They thought it wise to fill the hold while they have the chance.”

“I hope they find stuff we can eat too,” Jason muttered.

“We’ll be all right,” Jasher replied. “The
Valiant
was well provisioned when we took it. The drinlings have left the best stores for us.”

Jason followed Drake and Jasher off the beach and into the vegetation. There were thick shrubs, some with big, glossy leaves, and tall palm trees. Before visiting Mianamon, Jason might have labeled it a jungle, but the plant life was tame compared to the southern rain forest. The absence of suffocating humidity and carnivorous plants was appreciated.

Although this forest was not draped with vines or teeming with wildlife, the foliage did screen the library from view as Drake and Jasher paralleled a burbling rivulet up the slope. After Jason pushed through ferny limbs for his first clear view of the Celestine Library, he stopped and stared.

The massive structure was magnificent. The overall impression was of multiple blocky buildings and thick towers inventively piled together to form a single elaborate complex. Seven domes were now currently in view, some higher or larger than others, all decorated with elaborate scrollwork and gilded patterns. Their staggered arrangement suggested there might be a few lower domes on the far side as well. Many huge windows and skylights interrupted the exotic masonry. Elevated walkways connected some of the towers. Arches and colonnades abounded. The vast library possessed little symmetry, hugging the sloped terrain like packages artfully arranged on a stairway.

“It’s amazing,” Jason said as Farfalee emerged from the brush behind him. “These guys took their libraries seriously.”

Other books

Murder Is Our Mascot by Tracy D. Comstock
A Place Of Strangers by Geoffrey Seed
The Western Lands by William S. Burroughs
aHunter4Trust by Cynthia A. Clement
White Water by Oldfield, Pamela
Lyon's Gift by Tanya Anne Crosby
Airlock by Simon Cheshire