Chasing the Prophecy (Beyonders) (8 page)

“If Maldor ever apprehends me, my fate is certain. Just like you and Galloran and the Amar Kabal, I’d take a minuscule chance at victory over certain doom. If we fail, I can still try to jump ship and hide in the wilderness for the rest of my life, which is my only other current option.”

Jason shifted uncomfortably. “You’re warning me that my quest probably ends with the Maumet.”

“I want you to appreciate what you’re up against. You will have to succeed where multitudes have failed. You’ll have to accomplish something that the mightiest wizard in the history of Lyrian didn’t dare to attempt. You’ve pulled off some shocking upsets in the past, but only a fool would bet on you this time. So I will.” Ferrin detached an ear and held it out to Jason.

“You’re betting an ear?”

“I’m betting that not only will you find a way past the Maumet, but that you will locate Darian the Pyromancer and need to offer us crucial information from a great distance. If you perish, I’ll just have to get used to life with one eye and one ear.”

“Farfalee is bringing messenger eagles,” Jason reminded him.

“I know, and they will serve as an important redundancy, but nothing beats sure, instantaneous communication.”

Jason accepted the ear. It represented a great deal of trust. Too much trust, maybe? Could Ferrin have other motives? They had spoken frankly about his allegiance issues on other occasions. “What if you betray us?”

Ferrin flashed a crooked smile. “The oracle had the same concern.”

“She did?”

“In our private conversation. She told me that I could be either a vital asset or a crippling traitor. She assured me that Maldor would never accept me, that any treachery would end in my ruin, things I already know. Things she needed me to believe.”

Jason held up the ear. “This is your attempt to help us?”

“Part of it,” Ferrin said. “If we mount an attack on Felrook, I have a lot of information that could prove advantageous. Assuming Galloran can muster his army, and you can accomplish your role, I’ll help see this through.”

“Are you sure?” Jason asked. “Are you really on our side? Totally?”

Ferrin raised his eyebrows. “It’s possible that you would learn a vital secret, speak it to my ear, and I would take the information straight to Maldor in search of forgiveness. Such an act of betrayal could enable the emperor to counter whatever secret tactic Darian might suggest, even if the messenger eagles still deliver the information to Galloran.”

Jason resisted an impulse to fling the ear into the jungle. “I know you think like that. Do you have to be so open about it?”

“Would you prefer I kept those thoughts private?”

“I wish you’d quit having those thoughts at all. It’s a scary sort of honesty when you openly admit you might betray us.”

Ferrin lifted his hands apologetically. “I’ve plotted like this my entire life. I like you enough that I try to be candid.”

“It’s not just that you have those urges. I know you’re capable of carrying them out.”

Ferrin laughed darkly. “Makes me a lousy teammate. But the oracle indicated that we need to stand together or else none of this will work. Doesn’t that mean you have to rely on me?”

“I want to count on you. You’ve picked us over Maldor before.”

Ferrin held up a finger. “Back before I really knew the stakes, I picked you over the chance of upsetting Maldor if I got caught. Then the situation spiraled out of control. But I see what you mean. If I wanted to ruin your cause, I could have already done so.”

“True,” Jason said, “but that gives us no guarantee about what you might do tomorrow. I’d feel better if you promised me you won’t turn on us.”

“Haven’t you heard? The word of a displacer is worthless. There is a whole family of jokes on the subject.”

“I can’t judge the other displacers,” Jason said. “I’ve barely known any. You’re the only one I really know. Ever since Whitelake, you’ve been really honest with me. Even when you turned in me and Rachel, you were open about it. You’ve stuck your neck out for me. Your word means something to me.”

Turning to gaze out at the horizon, Ferrin gave a slight nod. “Very well, Jason. I swear that I will continue to support this rebellion. I gave part of my carotid artery to Galloran in token of my sincerity, and part of my brachial artery to you. With that ear, I’m running out of body parts to spare.”

Jason pocketed the ear. He would put it in the same pouch as the artery. “The ear will be good to have. Imagine if something happened to the eagles!”

“The possibility had crossed my mind.”

“This will be one-way communication,” Jason realized. “I won’t be able to hear from you. How will I know you’re listening?”

“I’ll be listening,” Ferrin assured him. “Unless I die, in which case the cross-dimensional connection will be severed, and the ear will leak blood and grow cold. It would be hard to miss.”

“Right. Hey, speaking of broken connections, I have a displacerly question.”

“Then I probably have an answer.”

“Two displacers gave Galloran their eyes,” Jason established.

“Yes.”

“What if they die? Would his eyes rot?”

“A fair question,” Ferrin said. “Can Galloran see out of those eyes?”

“Of course.”

“And the displacers can too, which means he has a shared grafting. In a shared grafting, the mutual body part is simultaneously supported by both organisms. If Galloran dies, the eyes can draw from the displacers to remain alive and functional. If the displacers die, the eyes will lose their cross-dimensional connection and become the sole property of Galloran. They should remain healthy and serviceable. Displacers have been hunted and killed so a person could become the sole owner of a grafting. It makes our kind think twice before we share a body part.”

“That’s good to know,” Jason said. “I was kind of worried about him.”

“There are plenty of reasons to worry about Galloran,” Ferrin replied. “Rotten eyeballs is not one of them.”

“Thanks for the info.” Jason realized that this might be the last time he spoke to Ferrin in private before parting ways. “Take care of yourself.”

“I always do.” Ferrin placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. “Jason, I wasn’t joking that I’m betting on you. I’m wagering everything. This will be tough all around. Find a way to get your part done. I believe in you.”

Jason swallowed. He didn’t want to ask the question, but he couldn’t resist. “Why?”

“Excuse me?”

Jason looked away, toward the carved wall of the building.
“Nothing. I’ve just been stressing out lately. I don’t get why the oracle would count on me so much.”

Ferrin nodded reflectively. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

“What do you mean?”

“The odds are against you. You’d be a fool if you went into this feeling overconfident.”

“So why would you bet on me?”

Ferrin looked at Jason shrewdly. “For my part in this to succeed, your part must succeed. The odds are against us, but even if the chance is minuscule, we still have one. You’ve accomplished some amazing things. You’ve performed well under pressure. You’ve shown conviction and integrity. Maybe it’s not realistic, but it’s bold, and necessary, so I’m willing to believe you can pull this off.”

“Okay,” Jason managed, his throat thick with emotion. “I’ll believe in you, too.”

CHAPTER
2

F
rom his perch hundreds of feet above the temple floor, Jason watched a pair of apes circle each other, quarterstaves held ready. The simian combatants stepped gingerly, slender torsos hunched, long limbs coiled. The taller of the white gibbons stood roughly the same height as Jason. Screeching and hooting, they rushed together, elongated forms wielding the staffs with fluid agility. Many other apes watched the duel, close-set eyes fixed on the fiercely clacking rods.

The white gibbons had been engineered by Certius, the ill-fated wizard who had made his home in the southern jungles of Lyrian. Although the gibbons lacked the power of speech, they had surprising intelligence, and communicated with humans using hand gestures.

Iron lattices covered many of the higher walls and ceilings within the Temple of Mianamon. The gibbons could travel across the framework with careless grace, leaping and swinging, dangling from hands or feet, heedless of the potential fall. They mostly resided on lofty shelves near the summit of the temple. Jason had made it up here using a cramped system of tunnels, stairways, and ladders.

Observing the apes was one of his favorite pastimes at Mianamon. He had taught them to hold batting practice using quarterstaves and citrus fruit. He could seldom get an ape to strike out. Changeups worked best.

Today the brawling apes failed to distract Jason. Rods cracked, gibbons hooted, but he watched from a distance, alone, his mind far from the playful sparring. After several months, this would be his last day at Mianamon. Within hours he would part with Rachel and Galloran and many of his other friends. Their season of rest and preparation had been shattered when Rachel was ambushed last night. With little warning, suddenly they had to leave.

Jason watched the skillful apes without any pleasure at all. So why was he here? Had he thought the apes might hold solutions to his troubles? Of course not. Then what was he doing? Sulking? Hiding?

Jason had spent more days at this tropical temple than the rest of his time in Lyrian combined. He had turned fourteen at some point, though he couldn’t be certain which day, since the passage of time between his world and Lyrian was out of sync. Further complicating matters, the calendar in Lyrian had ten months, each with thirty-eight days.

Winter in the jungle had never grown cold. The days had gotten a little shorter, the air less warm on occasion, the rainfall more persistent, but Jason had never needed a heavy cloak. He had spent much of the winter training with weapons. Ferrin, Drake, Aram, Corinne, and Jasher had been working directly with Galloran, and they had in turn provided instruction to Jason, Tark, Nia, Io, and Farfalee.

Jason was a much improved swordsman. He could now make a respectable showing against Ferrin or Drake on the practice field. Farfalee had helped him with archery, Nedwin had offered lessons
in knife work, and Io had tutored him in wrestling. For the first time, Jason felt he might be able to contribute in a fight, rather than desperately hope to survive until the others got the job done. In theory he would be more useful than ever. Could his new combat skills be part of the reason the oracle had placed so much importance on his participation in the upcoming quest?

“Catching one last ape battle?” a voice asked, making Jason jump and turn. It was Rachel, looking mystical in her acolyte robes. He hadn’t seen her since the incident, and although Galloran had reassured him that she was fine, it was a relief to see she truly looked unharmed.

“Some people build model ships. Some pop bubble wrap. I’m more into dueling gibbons.”

“Ferrin was looking for you.”

“I was going to come down. Eventually.” He tried to think of a smooth way to bring up the attempt on her life. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I didn’t get stabbed. I’m about how you’d expect.”

“I’m so sorry that happened.”

“I talked to Galloran. He helped. I’d honestly rather not dwell on it.” Rachel sighed, eyes on the apes. “Can you believe we’re leaving?”

“Not really. I knew it was coming, but still . . . I wish I felt more ready.”

“How do you get ready to save the world or die trying?”

“I guess that’s the problem.” Jason stood, stretching his arms and legs. It felt good. He must have held the same position for longer than he had realized. “Are you wearing those robes out of here? Planning to do some trick-or-treating?”

Rachel chuckled, looking down at herself. “I’ll wear Amar Kabal robes for the road. But I’m bringing these, too. Galloran thinks they make me look more wizardly.”

“Don’t dress for the job you have—dress for the job you want.”

“I guess that’s the idea. Maybe I should dress up as an innocent bystander.”

“Too late for that.” Jason stared down at his feet. He was going to miss her. Rachel’s hand clasped his and he glanced up. Her eyes looked a little misty. He scowled. “Don’t get all sentimental.”