Chasing the Prophecy (Beyonders) (86 page)

“Just a little longer.”

She walked away. Jason stared at the churning sludge, feeling alone. Drake had died specifically for him. A big part of Jason wished that he hadn’t. But it couldn’t be undone. So now the responsibility was on his shoulders to make that mean something.

*  *  *

The next morning, not long after they began riding, the Great Yellow Cone erupted. Water and steam jetted upward for the better part of two hours, infinite droplets glittering in the morning light. By the end the entire conical mount glistened wetly.

Soon after the Great Yellow Cone went dry, Nia spotted the third messenger eagle returning. Jasher and Aram instantly became alert. As the eagle circled down to Farfalee, Jasher pointed at a distant figure atop a pink ridge, little more than a speck to the naked eye.

Jason felt dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. That tiny figure in the distance could spell big trouble. Aram had worried from the start that their enemies might find a way to track them using the eagles. Jason looked to the small half giant.

Aram swiveled his spyglass to where Jasher was pointing. “He has a telescope of his own,” Aram snapped. “He’s waving. He’s turning his horse.”

“They must have caught the eagle,” Jasher guessed. “They came north and used it to track us.”

“How could they have caught it?” Farfalee asked. The eagle perched on her arm, eating from her hand. “Eina would not have gone to them willingly. Until I send it with a message, while I remain alive Eina would only come to me.”

Jason thought she sounded a little defensive. Farfalee had to feel terrible that one of her eagles had given them away. After all, Aram had warned her.

“It would have taken some craft,” Jasher said. “Does it matter how they managed it? The damage is done. We need to pick up the pace.”

By sunset they were in the shadow of the Great Yellow Cone. Aram had grown, which made Jason feel a bit safer. Spyglass in hand, Jasher scrambled up the side of the geyser cone. The climb was hundreds of feet. Much of the light had faded before he reached the top.

“A big group, still riding hard,” Jasher reported upon his return. “Could be as many as thirty riders.”

“How far back?” Jason asked.

Jasher inhaled through his teeth. “If we hold still and they ride through the night, they might have us.”

“Then we had best not keep still,” Farfalee said.

“We’ll need to take care,” Jasher said. “The Polished Plain lies ahead of us. The ground is thin there. I have always heard that horses are too heavy to cross it, and the information on our most comprehensive map agrees.”

“Should we think about finding a place to make a stand?” Jason asked. “Try to catch them off guard? Hit them with a rockslide or something?”

“Thirty is too many,” Aram said. “We only have two orantium spheres. We should first try to outrun them.”

“How far to the plain?” Farfalee asked.

“We could be there before sunrise,” Jasher replied.

“The horses are tired,” Nia said.

“We won’t ride them hard,” Jasher replied. “We don’t want to attempt the Polished Plain in the dark.”

After their evening meal they continued riding. There were enough clouds to mute the moon most of the time, forcing Jasher to light a length of seaweed. The glow let them see enough to avoid falling down a hole, but it would also give their pursuers an easy target to follow.

The worry of enemies behind them kept Jason from feeling too tired. He listened to the strange exhalations of the alien landscape—the burbling of sludge pools, the sighs of steam vents, and the gusty splashing of geysers.

After they paused for a quick nap and some food, sunrise found them at the edge of a spectacular plain that stretched ahead for miles. Less than an inch of water flowed across the flat, stony expanse, giving the surface a glossy shine. Every color was represented in streaks and swirls, with an emphasis on white, yellow, orange, red, and turquoise. Bubbling springs abounded, the water spreading more than flowing. Steam leaked up from everywhere. Crouching at the edge of the damp plain and extending his hand, Jason found the water lukewarm.

“We lack a good vantage anywhere close,” Jasher said. “It is hard to judge how far back our pursuers remain. If they rode hard, they will have gained on us. Afoot it could cost us all day to cross the plain. The question becomes whether we proceed with or without our mounts.”

Jason looked back. He couldn’t see any sign of enemy riders. But they might lope into view at any second.

“Can we go around?” Del asked.

Jasher showed the drinling the map. “The plain is long, and it curves around our destination. Going around is not feasible. It might not even be possible.” Jasher folded the map, staring forward. “The entire plain is essentially a frail crust over superheated water. Even without the weight of our mounts we could crash
through at any moment. It will be like treading on weak ice.”

“It’s a good time to be small,” Aram said. “What if we lead the horses?”

“It’s a risk,” Jasher said. “Cracks can spread. If a horse breaks though, it could start an event that could take all of us with it.”

“Then we walk,” Farfalee said.

“Our enemies will have the same choice,” Jasher cautioned. “If they stay mounted, and the ground holds, they will catch us.”

“Do you think it will hold for horses?” Farfalee asked.

“No,” Jasher said. “I’m worried whether it will hold for us. If we walk and they ride, I believe theirs will be the greater risk.”

“Then we walk,” she repeated. “We had best make ready.”

Working quickly, they took as much of their gear and provisions as they could reasonably carry. Jason checked his saddlebags for any stuff he might have missed. Corinne tried to communicate with the horses to run off and thrive in the wild but didn’t seem optimistic about her success. Del volunteered to lug Aram’s armor. Nia took his enormous sword.

“It’s heavy,” Aram warned her.

“I’ll be fine,” Nia said. “If anything, the exertion will just make me stronger.”

“Tread lightly,” Jasher advised. “If the ground starts to give, fall flat. We’ll walk single file, not too close together. I’ll take the lead.”

“I’ll bring up the rear,” Del offered.

Walking behind Farfalee and ahead of Corinne, Jason ventured out onto the Polished Plain. Water splashed gently with each step. Jason noticed that the temperature of the thin layer of water varied from tepid to boiling. He felt tense, aware that he might break through into scalding water at any second. From time to time he sensed the ground creaking beneath him.

Jasher did not lead them in a straight line. He explained that he was trying to guess the safest ground, based on the presence of springs, venting steam, and the water temperature. He kept well away from the smoldering pools, where the ground had already given way. They advanced in silence, listening for evidence of danger. Several times Jasher edged back carefully as the ground crackled underfoot.

Jasher tried to keep them in warm water rather than hot, but it was not always possible. Heat radiated from the water and the ground, leaving Jason with lots of empathy for steamed vegetables. A greasy sheen of sweat and vapor clung to him all morning.

By noon the pursuing riders came into view at the edge of the plain behind them. The intervening steam made the tiny forms shimmer. Thankfully, Jasher had overestimated their numbers. Unfortunately, they were still close to two dozen.

After milling about at the edge of the plain for several minutes, the riders opted to remain mounted and came cantering toward them. Looking back at the oncoming riders made their progress since dawn feel pathetic.

Jason resisted the urge to run. At this point it wouldn’t do any good. He couldn’t outrace a horse.

“We have no cover,” Aram pointed out. “If they reach us, they’ll ride us down.”

“Fan out,” Jasher said. “Jason, keep your orantium handy. Try to throw it in front of a tight group of riders. Maybe we can help the ground to give. Farfalee, Nia, ready your bows.”

They spread out, facing their enemies. Jasher held his torivorian sword in one hand and his orantium globe in the other. Jason did likewise. The moisture in the air made the globe feel slippery.

The horses were charging hard. There were so many! At least the orantium gave Jason some hope of defending himself and his
friends. He realized that he would have to throw his globe as far as he could or else he would risk sending his entire group into the boiling lake. He would have to time it just right to take out the maximum number of riders.

Before long the pursuers had come half the distance from the edge of the plain. Water sprayed up as hoofs drummed across the steaming ground. The high sun made small shadows beneath them.

Jason’s mouth was dry. How was he supposed to stand against a bunch of charging horsemen? Farfalee might drop a few riders with her bow. He supposed he would have to try to dodge and slash with his sword as best he could. Hoofs and weaponry would be coming at him all at once. How would he avoid so many threats? Would any of them manage to stand against such a brutal onslaught? This could be the end. Behind the riders, beyond the plain, Jason saw a geyser erupting.

And then suddenly three of the lead riders disappeared, dropping out of view without warning, flaky fragments of stone flipping up as water splashed high. Other riders sought to slow or swerve, but within seconds a huge section of ground had collapsed, leaving fewer than ten riders on the surface of the plain.

For a long moment the broken area was a steamy stew of horse heads and flailing arms, but the tumult grew still before long. Dismounting, the remaining pursuers abandoned their horses and proceeded on foot, giving the newly created pool a wide berth.

Jason glanced over at Corinne. She looked relieved and a little horrified. Her eyes met his.

“That got my heart rate up,” Jason confessed.

She sheathed her sword. “I kept thinking, ‘Of course they won’t fall; of course this will be the one time twenty horses gallop across this fragile plain without making a single crack.’ ”

Aram watched through the spyglass, grinning like a child at the circus. “Eight remain.”

“I can finish eight with my bow once they come within range,” Farfalee said. “They lack cover, and I have plenty of arrows. The rest of you go on ahead.”

“You shouldn’t stay back alone,” Jasher said. “What if you lose your seed?”

“I’ll stay with her,” Nia offered. “I have a bow as well.”

Jasher nodded. “Wait until they are well within range or they will fall back out of reach. We’ll await you at the far side of the plain. Our departure should lure them forward faster.”

After wiping the lens of the spyglass on his sleeve, Aram took another look. “None are heavily armored. For Farfalee, filling them with arrows will be like a holiday exhibition.”

“I might hit one too,” Nia pointed out.

“Anything is possible,” Aram replied.

Nia swatted him, brandishing his sword. “Don’t forget who totes this while the sun is out!”

“I meant no insult,” Aram said. “I’ve just never seen anyone shoot like Farfalee.”

Jasher led all of them but Farfalee and Nia single file. Jason kept peering over his shoulder, watching for the soldiers to come within range. They all stopped when Farfalee and Nia started shooting. The exhibition did not take long.

Farfalee and Nia caught up to the others by late afternoon.

“I hit two,” Nia reported. “I also missed twice, but one of my hits was fatal.”

“I stand corrected about your marksmanship,” Aram said. Raising his voice, he called ahead to Jasher. “Any chance of picking up the pace? This Polished Plain is one of the few places where little Aram has a definite advantage.”

“We’ll make it by sundown,” Jasher promised.

They crept onward. The lack of sleep from the night before was catching up with Jason. The pace was not quick, but it was relentless, and the constant danger of the ground giving way kept him tense. They ate while walking. At one point Jasher’s foot broke the surface, but he managed to skip backward before the crust shattered beneath him. In the end Jasher barely managed to keep his promise. Aram grew large perhaps ten minutes after leaving the Polished Plain behind.

The next day they reached landmarks more quickly. They sighted the Stepping-Stones—seven staggered columns of rock that increased in height—early in the day, and then left them behind by the afternoon.

The Giant’s Bathhouse was a naturally terraced mesa with overflowing pools at various levels. The spilling water left behind colorful mineral deposits—elaborate draperies that gave the mesa the appearance of a huge cake dripping with frosting. Rolling clouds of steam billowed from a gaping cave at the base of the fanciful formation.

They halted for the night not far beyond the Giant’s Bathhouse. Jasher informed them that in the morning it would only take a few hours to reach the Scalding Caverns. Once through the caverns they would follow the Narrow Way to the last abode of Darian the Seer.

“Do you think this will really be the right place?” Jason asked Corinne as they prepared to bed down. “Do you think we’ll find Darian?”

“I expect so,” she replied. “I can’t imagine there was other information at the library that the oracle would have wanted us to follow. Having Farfalee along to read that Petruscan scroll had to be by design.”

“I hope so,” Jason said. “If we’re wrong, I guess there isn’t much we can do about it. The instructions make it sound like I should enter alone.”

“Alone and unarmed,” Jasher clarified. “The prophecy named you as the person who needed to collect the information from Darian. The rest of us are here to get you to your destination.”

Jason nodded, trying not to display the heaviness he felt inside.

“We might be willing to guard the door while you’re in there,” Nia said.

“Think he’ll speak English?” Jason wondered.

“He lived before English became prevalent,” Farfalee said. “But if he’s still around, who knows? If the prophecy sent you here, there must be some way for the two of you to communicate.”

“Think we’ll make it there tomorrow?” Jason asked.