by Brandon Mull
“You think we still might win?” Rachel checked.
Ferrin shrugged. “The only way to know is to keep trying. We can guess what may have spoiled our chances of winning, but we can never know whether victory is still possible unless we see it through to the end. That is what Galloran understands and why news of your visit from the lurkers has not altered his plans.”
Rachel leaned over and hugged Ferrin tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He stiffened with surprise, then hugged her back. “No need to thank me.”
“I’ve felt really . . . I just couldn’t . . .”
“I understand.”
She held him quietly for a long moment before pulling away. “That was the best conversation I’ve ever had. I was feeling really lost. I didn’t think anyone could help me.”
“I did nothing. The choice is yours to make. You just needed to honestly consider your options.”
“Nobody else put it so plainly. Not even Galloran.”
Ferrin smirked. “The others were trying to spare you from pain. The truth can be devastating. We spend much of our lives protecting ourselves from it and shielding others as well. We use lies to take the edge off life. We dream of a better tomorrow. We hide from our regrets and inadequacies. We try to exaggerate the good and downplay the bad. We even manage to hide from the inescapable reality that sooner or later we and everyone we love is going to die.”
“Cheerful thought.”
“Not cheery, but true. When a decision really matters, Rachel, we have to ignore our comforting illusions. We must set aside our wishes and give heed to reality. Nobody can accept the truth while hiding from it. When a decision matters, we have to stare at the truth unflinchingly. Only then can we find peace in our choices.”
Rachel smiled. “Tough love.”
“You can call it that.”
Rachel nodded. “Without totally lying, Maldor was playing me. I’d like to believe that he would spare my friends, because I want them to be safe, but you’re right, it wouldn’t end up that way. They wouldn’t quit fighting. They wouldn’t accept the pardon.”
“And you want to believe we might win, when we probably won’t,” Ferrin reminded her.
“How do you keep yourself going if you feel that way?”
“If Maldor ever finds me, he will do worse than kill me. Returning to him would be folly, even if I returned after crippling your rebellion. He will never forgive a betrayal such as I have committed. I must resist Maldor, because I am forever his enemy. I also stay true to this rebellion in part because Galloran has a portion of my neck and could kill me at will. Mostly I stay true out of friendship. I admire your integrity, and Galloran’s, and Jason’s. I would like to see you succeed. I could hide in the wilderness for the rest of my life, but that does not suit my nature. This cause represents my last hope of living well. Our chances are dreadful, but at least we have a chance. Knowing the probable futility of our efforts, I still accept this bleak path as my best available option.”
Rachel offered no reply. They listened to the birds.
Ferrin nodded toward the well near the center of the courtyard. “Would you like a drink?”
“I’m all right. How was your mission?”
Ferrin leaned forward, rubbing his hands together. “As far as we could reach by horseback in the time allotted, people are flocking to the cause. Most do not seem to fully appreciate how hopeless this campaign will be. Nearly everyone is ready to bet on Galloran. He’ll have the men he needs to mount his assault. And the supplies, which is equally vital.”
“How soon?” Rachel asked.
“Galloran hoped to be underway by tomorrow. He won’t get his wish. But it won’t take many more days. We’ll be marching off to war much more quickly than I would have predicted.”
Rachel stared down at her hands. “I never imagined myself going to war.”
“I always pitied the first army that would try to assail Felrook. I had begun to assume it would never happen. Now I’ll be part of it.”
“At least we won’t be alone,” Rachel said.
Ferrin smiled faintly. “I’ll die in good company. Probably a better end than I deserve.”
Rachel regarded Ferrin thoughtfully. “What do you know about lurkers?”
“Less than you, probably. I’ve never had one in my dreams or heard one with my mind.”
“Where do they come from?”
“Not our world,” Ferrin said. “Their origin is a perfectly guarded secret.”
“They told me their world is like our dreams. They don’t seem to like our reality.”
Ferrin nodded, as if the information fit his understanding. “Zokar brought the torivors to our world and established dominance over them. He subjected them to his will. Maldor wears a black jewel, the Myrkstone, which is somehow connected to the torivors. How he controls them is a secret, but it exacts a toll. He has been seen vomiting blood after sending torivors on a mission. He never dispatches them lightly.”
“What if we could free them? Would they rebel against Maldor?”
Ferrin chuckled. “You have quite an imagination. Hard to guess how the darklings would respond to freedom. Nobody knows enough about them. Maybe they would turn on Maldor. Maybe they would go on a wild rampage. Maybe they would leave our world.”
“Where are they kept?”
“At Felrook. Nobody is certain exactly where. Nobody wants to find out. Torivors are trouble, Rachel. The worst kind of trouble. They can sense our thoughts. You should put them out of your mind.”
“I didn’t invite them,” she reminded him.
“I know.”
She fingered her charm necklace. “I don’t plan to take this off anytime soon.”
“Probably wise. Has Copernum visited you lately?”
“No. I haven’t seen him in days.”
“That is for the best. Under no circumstances should he be trusted.” Ferrin stood. “What are your plans for the remainder of the day?”
“I was hoping to brood. Then maybe mope a little.”
“You keeping up with your Edomic?”
“Yeah. Three hours this morning. I’ll work more tonight.”
Ferrin nodded, hands on his hips. “I’ve been trying to devise some practical applications for your abilities. I want to have some spheres crafted the same size as standard orantium globes. We should put a little stone inside to help the replicas match as best we can. I want to find out how effectively you can manipulate them. It could prove significant in battle.”
“Good idea.”
“And locks. I want to teach you how locks work. You keep pushing around larger and larger objects. I think you should also experiment with some delicate finesse. Shouldn’t require a lot of clout, just knowledge of where to push.”
Rachel grinned. “That could be useful.”
“I expect it might. Want to give it a try?”
“Sure.”
Ferrin took her hand and helped her to her feet.
CHAPTER 12
WINDBREAK ISLAND
Jason stood outside the small cabin, bracing himself for the smell. The stench of vomit always made him want to puke, and losing his lunch was not likely to help Corinne feel any better. He had volunteered to deliver the news because he felt guilty about not visiting her very often. Maybe he should have found another way to show his concern. Straightening like a soldier, he knocked with two knuckles.
“Yes,” came the reply. She was trying to sound normal but not quite succeeding.
“It’s Jason. Can I come in?”
“Just a moment.” He heard her scuffling around. “All right.”
Jason opened the door and found Corinne sitting on the floor against the wall. One of the cracks between the planks had left a straight mark on her cheek, so he knew she had been lying down. Her hair looked stringy, her lips chapped. A glowing length of seaweed cast green light on her pallid features. The smell was less terrible than he had expected. Her puke bucket was empty.
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“Not using the bunk?” he asked.
She shook her head, a careful motion. “The floor feels best.” Her lips quivered and she squeezed her eyes shut.
“Lie back down.”
Nodding faintly, she spread out on the floor and pressed a damp cloth to her forehead. She seemed to be perspiring, though it might have been moisture from the rag. He watched her breathe.
“Can I get you anything?” Jason asked.
“Water. Barrel. Corner.”
He went to the cask in the corner, lifted the lid, and dipped in a little tin cup. He set it beside her on the floor.
“Sorry,” she said. “Hard to talk.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Propping herself up on an elbow, Corinne lifted the cup and took a tiny sip. She paused, as if assessing how it made her feel, then tried a bigger sip. She started coughing, leaned over the bucket, and retched.
Stomach churning, Jason turned away. There was no escaping the smell. As it hit him, the room suddenly seemed warmer and more cramped. He clenched his teeth.
“Sorry,” Corinne apologized wretchedly.
“Don’t worry about me,” Jason replied valiantly. “I’m sorry you’re so sick.”
Corinne picked up a rag and wiped her mouth. “I can’t suppress the nausea. I can’t will it away. Everything I eat comes back up sooner or later. I feel a little better right after I throw up. It never lasts long.”
“I have good news.”
She perked up a little. “What?”
“We can finally see Windbreak Island.”
She gave a tired smile. “Dry land?”
“Dry land. Of course, it means we’ll have to deal with the Maumet.”
“Anything to get off this boat,” Corinne groaned. “Maumets, lurkers, you name it. Have we spotted any other ships?”
“Nothing yet. If the emperor has learned our destination, Aram is worried ships might hide on the far side of the island.”
“Why does it have to be an island?” Corinne lamented. “The only way off is more sailing. If we defeat the Maumet, maybe I’ll just stay there, live in the library.”
“I know you like books,” Jason said.
She nodded, then grimaced. Her hand cradled her abdomen. “I’m already feeling queasy. . . . It never stops.”
“Rest,” Jason said. “We’ll get you to dry ground soon.”
She closed her eyes tightly and gently lay on her side, head cradled on the crook of her elbow. “Thanks . . . news.”
Jason exited the cabin and walked away, grateful to escape the smell of her puke. He wished he knew how to comfort her. Whenever he visited, it seemed like Corinne would rather be alone. She either wanted rest or she was lost in her suffering. When he tried to talk to her or console her, he ended up feeling like a nuisance. He couldn’t blame her. He hated the sensation of nausea. She hadn’t had much of a break from it in almost a week.
On deck Jason went to the bow and peered ahead at the island, gray with distance. Jasher stood there as well.
“How long?” Jason asked.
Jasher glanced up at the sails. “The wind is dwindling again, and the direction has been inconstant. Could take most of the day. Could take longer.”
“Do we have a plan?” Jason wondered.
“Farfalee and Aram have something in mind. We’re about to confer. You should join us.”
“Sure.”
“How is Corinne?”
“Miserable.”
“The voyage has been relatively smooth,” Jasher said. “She will never be a sailor.”
“I think she’s fine with that.”
Jasher led Jason over to where Aram, Farfalee, Drake, Nia, and Heg stood in a loose huddle. Heg had taken to wearing a wool cap he had found belowdecks. He stood shorter than Jason, but with wider shoulders and much bigger hands. Gray stubble lined his jaw.
“Have you started without us?” Jasher asked.
“You’re just in time,” Aram said, nodding a welcome to Jason. “First order of business will be to circle the island. I do not expect to find enemy ships lurking on the far side, but we can’t risk getting attacked by sea while fighting the Maumet on land.”
“Agreed,” Jasher said.
“Once we’re anchored, I propose we send two launches to shore,” Aram continued. “One will land; one will wait on the water. The crew of the first launch will engage the Maumet and find out what exactly we’re dealing with. The second crew will include Jason, Jasher, and Farfalee. If we can delay or restrain the Maumet, they may opt to hurry to the library. If not, they can witness the threat we’re facing.”
“The people in the first launch will be bait?” Jason checked.
“In a sense,” Aram said. “They’ll fight to hold the Maumet at bay.”
“Who goes in the first launch?” Jasher asked.
“I’ll lead a team of drinlings,” Aram replied.
“You’re our captain!” Jasher said. “We can’t afford to lose you.”
“My sentiments exactly,” Drake offered.
Aram shook his head. “When the sun is down, I have the best armor, the longest reach, and the biggest sword. I promise not to throw my life away. I want to help protect the others and inspect our enemy up close.”
“Aram is taking this captaincy too earnestly,” Drake said. “His caution is fading. He’s ready to go down with the ship.”
“I have no plan to die on Windbreak Island,” Aram said. “There is a time for caution and a time for action. This affair with the Maumet will require action. If we make it around the island before nightfall, we’ll land in the evening. If not, we’ll make landfall before dawn.”
“You could watch us attack the monster from the other launch,” Heg suggested to Aram. “You’re among the chosen ones named in the prophecy. We can’t risk losing you. You should study our skirmish and lead a second squad.”
Jason thought about what Farfalee had said about the willingness of drinlings to sacrifice themselves. Bat had risked himself for the group, as had the drinlings on the wall at Durna. Was it right to keep taking advantage of that tendency by letting them volunteer for the most deadly assignments? Jason wondered whether he should volunteer to join the first group.
Aram shook his head. “I’m the best equipped for this confrontation. You brought good men and women with you, Heg. I respect you, and I respect them. I’ll not sit by and watch their demise when I might help prevent it. If I’m named in the prophecy, all the more reason I should be involved.”
“I’ll join Aram’s squad,” Jasher said. “Why plan for failure? Perhaps we can dispatch the Maumet on the first try.”
Jason looked from Jasher to Aram. He didn’t want the drinlings to die, nor did he want his friends to take the risk instead. Were there other options? Maybe he could help directly! Why should he always sit on the sidelines? “I’ll come too,” he offered.
“Sorry, Jason,” Farfalee said. “I’m sure you’d make a good showing, but you’re the last person we can risk.”
Jason didn’t like how automatically she shot him down. “I’m sick of hiding behind other people. Aram made a good point. Maybe those of us named in the prophecy have a bigger responsibility to get involved in stuff like this.”
“You’ll get your chances,” Jasher pledged. “But I agree with my wife that we can only endanger you when it becomes most necessary. You’re not hiding behind anybody. We all have our duties. Everyone aboard this ship is risking everything. Don’t worry. Aram and I will watch our step. None of us are in a rush to throw our lives away.”
“I’ll second that,” Aram grunted.
Jason decided he had better back down. If everyone was against him on this, it would do no good to keep complaining. Although part of him felt embarrassed to have his offer denied, a more secret part was relieved to avoid the danger.
“Maybe one squad isn’t enough,” Nia speculated. “Should we attack the Maumet with a larger force? Try to overwhelm it?”
> Farfalee shook her head. “If numbers were the only issue, others would have destroyed it long ago.”
“So eight of us are supposed to succeed where an army would fail?” Drake verified.
“We’ll examine what we’re dealing with,” Aram said. “We’ll test the effectiveness of various weapons—blunt ones, sharp ones, projectiles. I’ll bring orantium.”
“I wonder if Corinne would loan me her sword,” Jasher mused.
“I’ll loan you mine,” Jason said.
Jasher shook his head. “If you end up going ashore, you’ll need it.”
“There will probably be no chance for a second party to go ashore,” Farfalee said. “If a simple diversion would work, the library would have been breached ages ago. I agree that we should test ourselves against the Maumet, but if it appears unbeatable, the landing party should fall back.”
“I’m in no rush to die again,” Jasher assured her.
“The guardian can transform itself?” Heg checked.
“We believe it can change form,” Aram recounted. “According to Ferrin, the Maumet can mimic the properties of any material it touches. We have to find out how that works in practice, search for weaknesses.”
“Any idea how far the Maumet can stray from the island?” Drake asked.
“We know it can’t leave the island,” Farfalee replied. “Otherwise, it would have done so long ago. But we have no idea how far it can venture into the sea.”
Aram rubbed his hands together briskly. “Only one way to find out. If we’re done here, I need to check our heading.”
“Very well,” Farfalee agreed. “I hate to risk losing any of our number, but I fear risk will be an inevitable companion for the remainder of our journey.”
“I’ll join Jason and Farfalee in the second launch,” Heg said. “I’ll organize drinlings to fill the remaining needs of the two squads.”
The meeting ended and everyone dispersed. Jason wandered to the front of the ship to watch the island. The salty breeze came generally from the east, sometimes gusting from the southeast and occasionally blowing from the northeast. At times the Valiant turned into the wind at an angle, sails positioned to keep slicing forward. For some stretches the wind pushed the ship from behind at a good pace. The drinlings adjusted the sails often, and the sweeps sloshed endlessly.