Chasing the Prophecy (Beyonders) (101 page)

These two messages are what you came to learn. Do not bother with the eagles. If the ear of the displacer does not suffice, the cause is already lost.

I have a final prophetic suggestion for you, Jason. This last message will only become relevant if you succeed and thwart Maldor. Lyrian will face many future dangers. You and Rachel came here from the Beyond. At the appointed time, for the good of Lyrian, one of you must return home, and one must stay. If you both stay, or if you both go, Lyrian will eventually fall.

That concludes the information I have to share. Never return here, Jason. There are no additional messages for you. Come again and you will die. To exit, press the round red jewel near the top of my throne.

Should Maldor fall, if your daughter ever has need of me, you may inform her that a prophecy awaits. Now speak to the ear and rejoin your friends.

From ages ago I bid you a fond farewell and wish you a bright future.

Your humble servant,

Darian

Jason could hardly see through his tears. He felt relieved to know how he had contributed, but he also felt torn about Drake,
who he had personally involved and who had died as a consequence. Would others he had involved die as well? Had others died already? He felt relieved to have information to share with his friends, even though he didn’t understand how it would help. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about staying forever in Lyrian. If he was going to have a daughter here, he had to be the one to stay, right? Or was the daughter just one of the many possible futures?

After getting his emotions under control, Jason looked around the lifeless room, half surprised to find himself still alone. He had not felt lonely while reading. He had almost felt as if Darian were here with him. Technically, he was, Jason realized, gazing across the room at the casket.

Jason dug into his pack. He pulled out a little case bundled in rags. Pulling apart the rags, he opened the case and withdrew an ear wrapped in linen. Jason unwrapped the ear and held it to his lips.

“Ferrin,” he said loudly, spreading the scroll in front of him so he could use it as a reference, “if you are asleep, wake up. If you’re busy, stop to listen. Ferrin, I have the prophecy. It came straight from Darian, just like the oracle promised. We’ll send the eagles as well, but you should bring it straight to Galloran. Please be true. Please don’t betray us. Most of us died to get here. Corinne, Aram, and I are the only ones left. Farfalee might have lost her seed. We had to kill Groddic, who turned out to be the Wanderer.

“I’m rambling. Let me give you the message. I’m not totally sure what it means, but the mountain that Felrook is on was once called Mount Allowat. Darian thought that would be important. Also, he had a message for Rachel. Orruck already taught her what she needs to know. I guess it has to do with one of the Edomic commands he shared with her. It was something he invented to
harm Zokar. That’s all I was told. I hope it makes sense to you guys. I’ll repeat the message again in a few minutes. I hope the battle is going well.”

There was no way for Jason to confirm whether Ferrin had heard, but he intended to repeat and repeat and repeat to be sure. The ear felt warm and was not bleeding, so he knew the connection remained intact and Ferrin was alive. According to Darian, all their hopes now rested with the displacer.

CHAPTER
28

R
achel waited for hours in the room where the torivor had left her. The lurker had delivered her through the window after scaling a high wall. She had been braced for a swift introduction to Maldor, but instead she had been admitted to Felrook without any formal greeting.

The room was comfortable, with a generous bed, rich carpets, an impressive desk, multiple chairs, a wardrobe, a bookshelf, and a table in the corner complete with a covered tray of food. There was a separate room for bathing, and beyond that a water closet. But the locked door was solid iron, and the window had no ledge. No matter how comfortable, the room was a prison.

After nightfall Rachel had used Edomic to light some of the candles and lamps around the room. She ate all of the food on the table and was especially grateful for the fresh fruit. Opening her window, she looked out at the night. The view felt like she was gazing from a mountaintop, easily the highest point in the valley. Cool air swished into her room. She was in no mood to sleep.

Io was dead. The pain and guilt of it stewed deep inside. Not only had she probably made a massive mistake by accepting the
invitation to train with Maldor, but she had gotten Io killed in the process. She had not known Maldor would send armed lurkers. And she hadn’t known Io would leap immediately to her defense against unbeatable foes. But even so, his death had been a direct result of her choice.

Rachel tried to shift the awful blame from herself to Maldor. The emperor had made her choice necessary in the first place. Without him none of this would be happening. He had sent the lurkers while she was with others instead of when she was alone. After what had happened to Drake, Rachel could not have imagined how she could hate Maldor any more, but somehow she was finding a way.

When the iron door opened, Rachel started, almost dropping her glass as she filled it with water from a pitcher. She had heard no footsteps to announce the visitor. Steadying herself, she took a sip and set the glass down.

A tall, spare man with close-set eyes and a narrow face waited in the doorway. He wore black robes overtopped by a gray mantle. Several guards stood behind him. “Good, you’re awake. His Excellency will see you now.”

“Is that an invitation or an order?” Rachel asked.

The man gave a faint shrug. “An invitation first.”

Mustering her will, Rachel wanted to order the officious man onto the floor. She could do it. Then she could give the guards distracting commands and race past them. But race where? She would be wiser to form a plan before she revealed all she could do with Edomic.

“Fine,” Rachel said, putting on her hat. She had held it tightly while riding the torivor. Now she arranged the veil to hide her face.

“Come with me,” the man invited.

“Who are you?” Rachel asked as she stepped out into the hall.

“A servant of little import,” the stranger replied. “An administrator of sorts. I am called Damak.”

“I know your name,” Rachel said. “You questioned Jason. You’re Copernum’s grandfather.”

“I serve Maldor according to my talents,” Damak replied. “Perhaps one day I will serve you as well. But not today.”

He led her down some steps, through guarded doors, along a hall, through another set of guarded doors, and around a couple of corners. Then they reached an iron door at the end of a hall. Damak used a key to open it.

“I have the girl,” he announced.

“Send her in,” a voice replied. Rachel recognized the voice from her dream, although it sounded a bit more ragged. “Alone. Wait without.”

“As you wish,” Damak replied. He motioned Rachel through the door, then closed it behind her.

Sumptuously furnished, the spacious apartment was gloomy. All the curtains were drawn. Scattered candles provided pockets of light. Her veil further darkened everything, but she kept it in place. A figure stirred in a cushioned chair across the room. Blankets covered the slumped form.

“Come closer,” Maldor beckoned. “Let me have a look at you.”

Rachel stepped toward the speaker.

“Close enough,” he said as she drew near his chair. “Turn around.”

She obeyed, rotating once.

“I approve of your apparel,” Maldor said. “Image matters more than many appreciate. I will have similar outfits tailored. Remove the veil.”

Rachel took off the entire hat, setting it on a dark-red sofa.
Maldor leaned forward into the candlelight. She gasped. His features were the same as in her dream, but he looked ill. His skin was pale with a clammy sheen, his hair greasy, his face deeply lined, his eyes bloodshot, one more than the other. Pink drool leaked from one side of his mouth. Half of his face sagged limply, as if paralyzed.

“You find me alarming,” Maldor said. Not all of his mouth moved when he spoke.

“You look sick.”

“I suppose I must. Thank you for coming, Rachel.”

“It seemed to be my only choice,” she replied.

Maldor coughed several times into his fist. He held up a finger to indicate he would respond in a moment. After the fit ended, he dabbed his lips with a handkerchief. It came away bloody. He cleared his throat. “It was your only reasonable choice. You could have elected to die with your friends.”

“Your lurkers killed one of my friends,” Rachel accused.

“How unfortunate,” Maldor said without conviction. “You asked for safe passage to Felrook. Your message was received by my torivors and relayed to me. I assessed the situation and dispatched an appropriate escort. It required no small effort, but I knew that there might be some who would intervene, regardless of what you desired. Please, sit down.”

Rachel sat on the sofa beside her hat. Had she done that voluntarily, or had there been a suggestion buried in his request?

“Normally, I would not let anyone see me in this state,” Maldor said. “As I mentioned a moment ago, image is important. But you are not just anyone. We must have an honest relationship. I want you as my pupil, Rachel. I want you as my apprentice, perhaps even one day as my friend. I want to witness the heights to which you will rise. I chose to let you see me like this so that you could
behold the price I was willing to pay to bring you here.”

“You’re not sick,” Rachel realized. “Sending the lurkers did this to you.”

“Correct,” Maldor said, one hand straying to the dark jewel in the pendant around his neck. “I am already recovering. I was in much worse condition scant hours ago. I summoned you as soon as I felt I could hold a conversation. All of this will heal.” He gestured at his face. “The numbness is temporary. I almost overreached. I do not intend to send out five torivors bearing swords ever again. You understand why I did it?”

“To make sure nobody stopped me from coming?”

“Exactly. To ensure you reached me. This conflict is over. I do not need to slay you or Galloran or Ferrin to win this war. The war ended the day Galloran marched his army through the pass. But with my armies poised to descend, I had to get you out of that keep before the opportunity vanished. You almost waited too long to make your choice. I do not relish injuring myself. I do not delight in straining my relationship with the torivors. I do not enjoy freeing five of my finest servants from their obligations with only one of them having claimed a life.”

“They’re all free?” Rachel asked.

“All five. That is the price for sending them out with swords. And they needed swords. Had they been unarmed, Galloran might have cut down all of them. Had they failed in their mission, it would be one thing. I can accept losing a torivor if it is defeated. But I commanded them to stand down if you agreed to come here. I harmed my health and lost five of my elite to bring you to me. And I would have done more.”

“Why do you care so much?” Rachel asked. “You can’t possibly trust me.”

“Indeed?” he chuckled. “Trust has never been my habit. I have
seen too many great wizards fall because they trusted apprentices.”

“Then why do you want me? As a slave?”

Maldor chuckled again. It grew into a cough. “I need no more servants. I have plenty. All of Lyrian. I will install safeguards much more reliable than trust. You will be my apprentice. I only ask that you learn from me.”

“What if I don’t want to learn from you?”

He smiled with the side of his lips that worked. “I realize that you do not wish to become like me. But I know you want to learn more about Edomic. You do recall that I visited your mind. I am the last wizard in Lyrian, Rachel. None remain who can teach you the secrets of our order. You cannot begin to imagine the possibilities.”

“If I work hard, maybe someday I can cough up blood too.”

“I understand your hostility. I am not a pleasant adversary. Unfortunately, when you came to this world, you became involved with the losing cause.”