Chasing the Prophecy (Beyonders) (125 page)

BOOK: Chasing the Prophecy (Beyonders)
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Jason nodded, his eyes serious. “Do you need me to go instead?”

Rachel wondered how much he meant it. Enough to say it, at least, which was worth something. “This has always been the plan. Besides, Darian mentioned your daughter visiting him, which can’t happen if you aren’t in Lyrian.”

“He didn’t warn that it had to happen,” Jason said. “It might have just been a possible future. Who knows? Maybe my daughter could cross over like I did?”

“You’ve built much more of a life here than I have,” Rachel said frankly. “You’ve gotten closer to people. You’ve gotten involved. You run a huge estate. You employ people. You’re the Grand Duke of Caberton, along with your other titles. You could be chancellor if you wanted.”

Jason shook his head. “Nicholas is better for that job. At least for now.”

“Besides,” Rachel said, “Corinne would never forgive me.”

Jason had trouble hiding his grin as he looked away. “Did she say something?”

“I can just tell.”

“We’re just friends,” Jason insisted.

“I know,” Rachel said. “Good friends. No other guys get the attention she shows you.”

Jason shrugged, still unable to meet her eyes. He had it bad. “You never know.”

“Don’t worry,” Rachel said. “I’m going to leave, just like we planned. If it weren’t for my parents . . . and the prophecy . . . but there’s no point in thinking that way. I’m feeling better again. The anxiety comes and goes.”

“It’ll be strange without you,” Jason said. “I’ll be the last Beyonder.”

“Except for the lurkers,” Rachel corrected.

“I’ll have to stay tight with Corinne for that, if nothing else,” Jason said. “Even if Lurky Two does serve me, I don’t like it in my dreams. I prefer to have a translator.”

Rachel smiled faintly. She had often talked to his lurker for him. The lurker could understand Jason just fine when he spoke. It could even read his thoughts if he gave mental commands. But Jason couldn’t hear acknowledgments or responses. He’d be all right. He had Corinne to help, and Galloran if needed. The king managed his three torivor bodyguards just fine. Without telepathy Farfalee and Jasher communicated well enough with their indentured lurker, getting help from Elaine as needed.

Everyone would be fine. With Trensicourt leading the way, Lyrian was becoming more prosperous and stable every day. Her friends would be safe. “I’ll miss you.”

“Give it some time. Eventually this will all seem like a weird dream.”

Rachel shook her head. “I don’t think so. Too much has happened.”

“You’ll deliver my letter?”

“And the jewels. And I’ll develop the photos.” She was returning with lots of photographic evidence. Most of the shots had been taken after the war. It was hard to take pictures while running for your life. She would keep most of the images private, but some photos would accompany Jason’s letter.

“I’ll miss you too, Rachel,” Jason said gently.

Tears brimmed in her eyes. She looked down. “I’m doing this all wrong. I should never have allowed the rest of you to see me off. I should have gone through alone.”

Jason pulled her to her feet and hugged her. She hugged him back. He was tall and strong. “We wouldn’t have let you.”

Rachel held him tightly. Could they have ever become a couple? If they hadn’t known they would have to separate? Maybe. She certainly felt closer to Jason than to anyone. But it was pointless to think about. She was leaving. He was staying.

“If I hate it there, maybe I’ll come back,” she said. “I read a lot about ways between our worlds. It was my main emphasis these past months. There is no guaranteed way, but there are many tricks I could try.”

“Darian told us that one of us had to stay and one had to go,” Jason said. “He never said we had to go or stay forever.”

Rachel nodded. “I’ll keep telling myself that maybe I’ll come back someday. That makes this more doable. I have to go. Not only because of the prophecy. I have to see my parents. I have to let them know I’m all right. I have to be with them again.”

“I know. Listen, if you ever make it back here, you’re welcome to stay at my enormous castle.”

She pushed away from him, giggling. “Are you ever serious?”

“I’m serious! Caberton keeps getting better and better. I’ll even lend you some of my servants and share some of my gold and jewels.”

“What if I come back and hundreds of years have passed?”

“I’ll remember you in my will,” Jason assured her. “You’ll always have a home at Caberton. If anybody doubts you, just point at the monument.”

Rachel smiled weakly. Even kidding around, it was hard to think about the monument. It had been completed shortly before she’d left Trensicourt for the last time. The great square near the castle had been renamed Hero Square. There she had been immortalized in stone, her statue more than twice her actual height. The craftsmanship was exceptional. The sculptors were the finest from across Lyrian, including several of the Amar Kabal.

The statue of Rachel did not stand alone. Beside her were Galloran, Jason, Corinne, Farfalee, Jasher, Aram, Kerick, Halco, Andrus, Delissa, and Nollin. All of the delegation who had set out from the Seven Vales and lived.

The dead from the delegation were represented on the other side of the square, including the drinlings who had joined them at Ebera. Io, Nia, Raz, Dorsio, Nedwin, Drake, Tark, and Ferrin were all rendered in lifelike detail. Ferrin held his smiling head in his hand. The sculptors had argued that it made his heritage as a displacer too obvious, but Galloran had insisted for that precise reason.

Rachel loved that her friends had been memorialized there. She appreciated the plaques and fountains commemorating others who had fallen. She respected the sacred feeling the location inspired. But she could not look at her friends without sobbing. After the dedication she had only visited Hero Square twice more—once to take pictures and once to say good-bye.

“Hey, don’t get like that,” Jason said, giving her a squeeze.

“I’m all right,” Rachel said, realizing that her thoughts must have been written on her face.

“Somewhere Ferrin is laughing his guts out that his statue stands in a place of honor.”

“Drake, too,” Rachel said.

“All of them, probably,” Jason realized. “I can’t imagine I’ll ever get used to that statue of me.”

“Whatever. You know you like it.”

“What?” Jason asked, unable to resist a smile. “Maybe a little.”

Rachel chuckled quietly. “I’m really leaving.”

“Looks that way.”

“I’m taking some treasure home. The necklace from Drake, of course, but some other stuff as well. I’m not sure if I’ll ever try to explain any of it or cash in some of the gemstones, but I thought it would beat returning empty-handed.”

“Good idea. You deserve some spoils after all you’ve done.” He nodded toward the opening of the tent. “They have food prepared. Everyone wants to see you.”

“I know. I’ve been stalling. I’m ready now.”

The feast was held in a huge pavilion. There were grand announcements celebrating all Rachel had done for Lyrian. There were cheers and applause. But mostly she enjoyed seeing her friends. Corinne, who got more beautiful every year. How could Jason possibly resist! And Galloran, who would never again need to blindfold his mismatched eyes. Aram’s lovely wife Brielle stood much taller than him, at least during the day. Rachel always found it strange to see the half giant dressed as a lord.

The meal was delicious, the praise generous, the conversations delightful, but everything felt fleeting. This was the end, and Rachel could not forget it. Regret and excitement warred within her.

The afternoon was waning when her closest friends escorted Rachel to the cave. They passed the guards and entered in silence. At one point they had to fall flat and slither forward. At
last they came to a chamber where a clear pool hardly reflected the lamplight.

Rachel leaned over the side. “Look how far you can see.”

“It’s deep,” Jason told her. “And cold. You’ll sink until you think you might drown. But then you’ll emerge in a farmer’s field.”

Thank you, Rachel
, Galloran thought to her.
Lyrian will forever be indebted.

You deserve more thanks than anyone,
Rachel conveyed earnestly.
Without you, Lyrian would not have been saved, and I would not be going home. Trensicourt could not have a finer king.

They embraced.

“Are you talking in your minds again?” Jason complained.

“Sorry,” Rachel said. “It won’t be a problem much longer.”

“I don’t know what I’ll do without you,” Corinne said.

“You’ll be beautiful, and wonderful, and so happy,” Rachel replied, embracing her friend. “I’m sorry for everything I’ll miss. I’ll think about you always.”

She hugged and exchanged words with Farfalee and Jasher, Aram and Brielle, Elaine, Brin, and finally Jason.

“Take care,” Rachel said. “Have a marvelous life.”

“You too.”

There was much more she could say, but it was already too painful. She turned to Brin. “You have weights for me?”

Brin showed her a pair of iron weights at the edge of the pool with loops of rope attached to them. “Just hold tight and you’ll sink like an anchor.”

Rachel smiled at everyone through her tears. “I’ll make sure your letter reaches your parents,” she promised Jason. “And those huge gems as well. I won’t mess up the photographs.”

“Good-bye, Rachel,” Jason replied.

Rachel checked the pair of nondescript satchels over her
shoulders. Brin had waterproofed them. She grabbed the ropes connected to the weights, then nodded at Brin. “Toss them in.”

Brin grabbed one weight; Jasher gripped the other. Both weights went into the pool, and Rachel went with them, letting their heaviness pull her forward and down. The water was shockingly cold, but she kept a tight grip on the ropes and sank rapidly. Rachel stared down into the darkness.

Farewell, Corinne,
she conveyed.

Farewell, Rachel.
The answer came faintly, as if from a mile away.

Rachel realized that if she let go of the weights, she could swim back up. Or had she already sunk too far? Would she drown in the attempt?

Can you still hear me?
Rachel conveyed with all her might.

She sensed no answer.

Rachel tried not to panic as she ran out of air. Jason had warned it would be like this. She kept hold of the ropes, but it began to feel as if she was rising instead of sinking. Or maybe moving sideways. It was hard to stay oriented in the total darkness. The water seemed to be getting thicker, and it bothered her eyes enough that she closed them. Her speed seemed to increase. She collided with a yielding barrier, and suddenly she was on her back in a moonlit cornfield, spitting soil from her mouth as she gasped warm air into her starved lungs.

The scene was just as Jason had described, except he had arrived during the day. How late was it?

All her belongings had made it through with her. Standing, she tried to brush mud from her soaked dress with little success. She spoke words to extract the moisture. The Edomic command felt dead in her mouth. The water did not respond. She tried several commands. They all tasted like gibberish.

She had known this would happen, but she had not been
prepared for the reality of Edomic feeling and performing like nonsense. It was as if the law of gravity had ceased to function. It was comparable to amputation or paralysis.

Slowing her breathing, Rachel fought the rising panic. What would she do without Edomic? She was stuck here. There was no sure way back! She thought of her parents, and her panic receded.

Turning in a circle, Rachel spotted a glow that suggested a farmhouse. Leaving the weights behind, she started walking.

Some of the lights were on in the house. Rachel opened the squeaky screen door and knocked. A middle-aged woman answered. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” Rachel said. “I’m lost.”

Looking Rachel up and down, the woman placed a startled hand against her chest. “Another one? How can—never mind—you poor thing! You’re drenched! Come inside.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t tell me you lost your memory.”

Rachel realized that she had better play it up. “Actually . . . I’ve felt really confused lately. Everything has been . . . hazy . . . disconnected. What year is it?”

The woman told her. Rachel nodded vaguely. It had been more than three years since she had disappeared. Rachel felt relieved that it had been long enough to explain why she looked older. The oracle had not let her down. “Can I use your phone?” Rachel asked.

The woman led Rachel to a telephone. Rachel had not punched digits into a phone in roughly six years. The number had not faded from her memory. She called her home. Her mother answered. The sound of her voice left Rachel momentarily frozen. Then, with a fluttering stomach, Rachel explained who was calling. Her mom freaked out, but in a good way. Rachel held
the phone away from her ear during the worst of the shrieks and shouts. Soon her dad was on the line as well. Rachel could not resist her growing smile. Within the first thirty seconds their overflowing relief and joy made the decision worth it. Speaking with them made Lyrian recede. Within minutes she felt much more firmly home than she had upon her arrival in the cornfield.

While she talked, Rachel fingered her satchel. Inside was the note Jason had let her read. Once she had developed her photos and made sure the appropriate pictures and valuables were bundled with the message and delivered to his parents, her obligations to Lyrian would be officially concluded. She did not need to open the letter to recall the contents.

Dear Mom and Dad,

You probably think I was eaten by a hippopotamus. I did jump into the hippo tank at the zoo, as I’m sure witnesses have reported. But the hippo did not kill me. This sounds unbelievable, but the hippo was a magical gateway to a place called Lyrian. I realize that no evidence can prove something so seemingly ridiculous, but I have included some jewels and photos to help.

My problem is that there is no sure way for me to travel back and forth between our worlds. I could come home, but it would probably mean never returning to Lyrian. I have built a good life here. I’m one of the leaders of the most powerful kingdom in this world. I have many close friends and important responsibilities. Lots of people count on me. I have a future here. And so I am never coming home from Lyrian. Instead, I am sending this message as both explanation and apology.

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