A World Without Heroes (59 page)

Jason studied Maldor. “How did the Word vanish from my mind after I said it?”

“You said a true key word,” Maldor explained. “It was the word that could obliterate a past enemy of mine, a fellow student of Zokar named Orruck. That was why the Word and its syllables could withstand scrutiny even from the wise. The word you spoke and forgot is indeed capable of undoing a wizard. But not me.”

“Did you use it to destroy Orruck?”

“I held the Word in reserve but never had occasion to use it, until I employed it as decoy to divert the efforts of some of my staunchest adversaries. Amazing what even intelligent men will accept as truth when they desperately want to believe it.”

Jason scowled in silence. Could it really be true? So much effort all for nothing? So many people placing their hopes on a falsehood? He felt shattered to his core. With Maldor as an enemy no wonder so many had given up hope.

“Why are you telling me this?” Jason asked. “Is this just another trick?”

“I’ll be interested to learn how you obtained all of the syllables,” Maldor said. “By my count you had four: the original syllable from the Repository of Learning, the syllable guarded by Jugard in the cave, the syllable held by Malar on Whitelake, and the syllable protected by the Pythoness in the Sunken Lands. You never visited the Temple of Mianamon, nor did you set sail to the Isle of Weir. I suspect the hand of Galloran in this, but how he concealed these syllables from me is perplexing. Perhaps he was not as thoroughly broken as my tormentors assured me.”

“Maybe I’m psychic,” Jason said.

“That could be tested,” Maldor said. “I’ll learn the truth from you. Not now, I expect, but soon enough.”

“Why are you telling me so much?” Jason asked.

Maldor swirled the fluid in his glass. “In private I only engage in candid conversations. I want you to comprehend your situation. Anything I tell you can be erased from your mind should that become necessary. Or I can simply have you executed.”

“You seem very powerful,” Jason said. “Why all the subtlety? Why the games?”

Maldor took a slow sip of oklinder juice. “I could crush the
populace of every province I control, even if they rose united against me. But I enjoy experiments in governance, finding methods for holding power more securely, employing strategies to debase my opponents. No empire is ever too secure. I want mine to endure for millennia.”

Jason licked his dry lips. “I still don’t get why you’re talking to me.”

Maldor drank the remainder of the fluid in his glass. “Another purpose served by the hunt for the false Key Word is to identify my most capable adversaries. I take a keen interest in my opponents. Long ago I promised myself that any man who succeeded in obtaining the Word would receive the opportunity to join my elite circle.”

“You want me to join you?”

“You have demonstrated your worthiness in many ways. You thwarted several attempts to capture and kill you. You overcame a variety of obstacles to gain the syllables. You eluded the titan crab. No others have done that. You bested Copernum in a battle of wits. Again, an exclusive accomplishment. Your friend crossed Whitelake, and you visited the Pythoness. Unbeknownst to me or my agents you obtained two syllables secretly. You found allies when necessary. Ferrin spoke highly of you. You are not eager to shed blood but will do so when cornered. You overcame Duke Conrad in a duel. You had enough self-possession to forgo the pleasures of Harthenham. You have proven yourself intelligent, brave, tenacious, resourceful. In short you are the type of man I prefer at my side rather than resisting me.”

“Do you try to turn all your enemies to your side?”

“All of the most valiant ones.”

“Then Galloran refused.”

Maldor shrugged. “To Galloran, his stubborn ideologies
were more important than wielding real power. Had he joined me, he could have regained his kingdom and accomplished most of his goals. Instead he chooses to grow old in a rotting keep. Incidentally, he was my only other adversary to obtain the entire Word. Truth be known, he said it to me in this very dungeon. Of course it had no effect except to erase the syllables from his mind. I convinced him that he uttered the Word to a decoy, to explain why it failed to destroy me. He had been recently blinded, so he had no reason to doubt me.”

Jason furrowed his brow, his heart aching for Galloran. “Why toy so much with your enemies? Why not just kill them?”

“You keep asking
why
. Curiosity can be admirable, but yours is so lazy. Can’t you deduce the obvious answers? No, too late, I will divulge further unearned knowledge. ‘Toying with my enemies,’ as you phrase it, is simply another experiment in statecraft. Murder begets murder. I want the world to fear me, without inflaming that fear into rebellion. I slay many inconsequential enemies. But slaying powerful enemies creates martyrs, rallying their followers, allowing fear to become emboldened into anger. So I do not kill my most effective enemies. Great men who oppose Maldor know they will be ruined. Not killed, but utterly broken. They end their lives addicted to the pleasures of Harthenham, or, after long imprisonment and extensive conditioning, they are released into the world as feeble shadows of their former selves, burdened with physical and mental handicaps. Walking testaments to the futility of resisting my authority. Rather than spark rebellion, they are pitied and forgotten.”

“Unless they switch to your side,” Jason pointed out.

“Correct. And nothing is more demoralizing to my opposition than when their leaders join me.” Maldor poured a little more juice into his glass. “My opponents have no heroes. Their best
men and women either sell out or fail catastrophically.”

“Ruthless.”

“Only if you are foolish enough to oppose me. My power has never been seriously threatened, nor will it be.” He sipped some juice. “Often the most dangerous enemies are former allies. My potential enemies, within my ranks and without, are kept separated and monitored. In conquered provinces I establish competent leaders of limited vision who will never aspire to the absolute power I wield. Their highest aspirations are to find favor in my sight. Something you have already accomplished.” Maldor set down his glass.

Jason scowled thoughtfully. “If I joined you, how could you ever consider me a trustworthy servant? How would you know my loyalty was real?”

Maldor pursed his lips and placed his palms together. “Admirable. You have cut to the center of the issue. Your probable disloyalty is my chief concern in welcoming you into my inner circle of colleagues. The principal solution entails you receiving an eye and an ear from a displacer to replace your own, thereby rendering you incapable of secrecy. The temptation toward disloyalty would thus be removed.”

“Now I get why Galloran refused your offer to restore his sight.”

Maldor shrugged. “I could have forced a grafting upon him, but since it appealed to his sense of dignity to live out his life as an anonymous blind pauper settling petty disputes in a ruined castle, I was willing to accommodate that desire.”

Maldor took up his glass and drained it. Jason shifted in his seat as much as the restraints permitted. “Those people at the tables by your throne are all displacers?” Jason asked.

“Better. A conjecture rather than a
why
. They are all displacers. They sacrificed body parts to serve as my intelligence
network. I keep the most important ones close to me so I can receive significant tidings instantly. You are a Beyonder. Tell me why you came to this world.”

The request jarred Jason.

“Honestly, it was an accident. I worked in a zoo, where I fell into the hippopotamus tank, got swallowed, and came out of a tree beside a river.”

Maldor rose from his seat and walked over to Jason, looking down at him.

“A peculiar quirk of fate. Why did you elect to oppose me?”

Jason got the impression Maldor was very interested in this response.

“I read the book because I was curious. I knew it was forbidden, but I was hoping it might contain information about how to get home. Anyway, I read it, then met up with Galloran, who explained that my best chance to stay alive was to pursue the Word like the book said.”

“I believe you,” Maldor said. “Your tale fits the evidence, and I have a knack for spotting lies. Because your involvement against me was the result of unfortunate luck, I may show you mercy. But first tell me how you came to possess the second syllable. I know you never went near the Temple of Mianamon.”

Jason considered the request. Kimp was dead, so he was no longer protecting a valuable secret. Unless Maldor would exact revenge on Galloran for placing the tattoo. That was a huge breach of his rules and would probably get the Blind King in trouble.

“I can’t tell you. But honestly, nobody could ever discover the second syllable the way I got it.”

Maldor considered him for a long time. “Again I believe you. And I can interpret much from your answer. Galloran must have
disregarded my rules. I will learn more of this later.” He began pacing back and forth before the chair.

“What now?”

Maldor stopped pacing and grinned. “Only men in your unfortunate situation are permitted to sit while I stand.”

Jason stared in silence.

“I have a fondness for Beyonders,” Maldor said. “I formally invite you to serve me. There is much I can offer. I will exalt you above the petty squabbles that trouble my lesser servants. You have proven you deserve to live beyond such nonsense. Using the secrets that extend my health and youth, I can prolong your mortal life to many times its normal duration. We will work together directly, until I find the best way to employ your talents. You will have to work hard, but will also enjoy many rewards. And you will retain a measure of freedom. You will be released immediately, and I will forgive all of your friends for any crimes involving you.”

Jason contemplated the trust Galloran had placed in him. He thought of Jasher sacrificing his life and Drake risking his final life at the gong. He pictured Tark and Rachel riding desperately to escape Maldor’s soldiers. He saw Tristan being ravaged by a pack of dogs. He remembered Norval infected by a poisoned knife. He imagined Aster the hobo being mutilated by manglers. He considered the arrogant, spiteful evil of men like Copernum and Conrad, along with the spinelessness of Dolan. He remembered the deceit Ferrin had employed. And now the man who rewarded evil people and punished good ones wanted Jason to serve him.

“What will happen when I refuse to serve you?” Jason asked.

“You will be turned over to my tormentors, to begin your reconditioning. Believe me, you cannot imagine the exquisite suffering they elicit. They have terrible methods involving magic
and toxins along with a wide array of more traditional discomforts. You will languish for years under mind-rending tortures that will eventually decimate your very identity.”

“My identity would be more decimated if I joined you.”

“Well spoken, however unwise the sentiment. You are determined not to serve me, even at the cost of unspeakable torture?”

Easy to act brave now, Jason thought, before the consequences of this decision came to fruition. Would this private moment of valor be worth long years of unguessable torment? But how could he pledge himself to Maldor? How could he let displacers graft eyes and ears to him, to ensure he would live out his days doing evil?

He recalled Galloran stating that being a hero meant doing what was right regardless of the consequences. The thought sent a thrill through him. Galloran had been in this same situation and had made the right choice. Jason felt less alone. Maldor had claimed that his opponents had no heroes among them. But Galloran was proof to the contrary. And Jason would be evidence as well.

Jason took a deep breath. “I will not serve you,” he said. “Your servants are frauds and murderers. You say your opponents have no heroes, but I disagree. The only heroes I have met here have been your enemies. Besides, you’ve already proven yourself an expert liar. How can I know whether anything you have told me now is any truer than your fake key word? How can I expect any good to come from making a deal with you? We have a saying where I’m from. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.”

“We have one here as well. A lie twice believed is self-deceived.”

“It rhymes. That’ll help me remember.”

“Where in the Beyond are you from? You sound American. California, maybe?”