Chasing the Prophecy

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Chasing the Prophecy Page 31

by Brandon Mull


  “I guess I knew that,” Rachel whispered shakily.

  “That truth could be tempting to forget amid the rousing speeches and busy preparations. Galloran knows how to inspire and mobilize those around him. But don’t let his rhetoric confuse the reality of the situation. If our aim is to dethrone Maldor, we’ve been warned that we’ll probably fail.”

  “Right.”

  “You might be correct about the danger of Maldor learning the prophecy this early. The untimely warning may have already obliterated our meager chances. Any number of other mishaps or decisions may also have destroyed our opportunity for victory. Our cause might already be unwinnable.”

  Rachel nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  “You have a gift,” Ferrin said. “Maldor wants to develop that gift. You could gain more power and position than any of the rest of us could dream. You could be second to Maldor. You could surpass him. You could one day become empress.”

  “I don’t want that,” Rachel whispered.

  “Keep in mind, the alternative is not anonymity. The alternative is almost certain death and failure.”

  Rachel laced her fingers and squeezed her hands into one big fist. “You think I should go to him?”

  “I think you should confront the truth of the situation. I can tell you’re struggling under the weight of worries that you don’t want to face and desires that you don’t care to admit. I’ve seen your passion for Edomic. You would love to learn its mysteries from a true master. Don’t bury the truth. Confront it.”

  “How? By accepting his offer?”

  Ferrin shook his head. “Not necessarily. You have a choice before you. Confront the truth by honestly assessing the alternatives. Acknowledge the price of your options.”

  Rachel gave him a suspicious stare. “Is this how you go through life? Are you trying to turn me into a displacer?”

  “Maybe a little. What is the price of denying Maldor?”

  Rachel took a shuddering breath. “I probably die. My friends probably die. And we probably die for nothing. We probably lose.”

  “And you miss the chance to live in comfort and power for a thousand years or more,” Ferrin added. “You miss the chance to master Edomic.”

  “Right.”

  “What is the price of accepting the offer?”

  Rachel sighed. “I learn Edomic and get to live a thousand years.”

  “No. That is the reward. The price is that your friends will probably end up miserable. There are no happy people at Harthenham. There is no peace for those who abandon their ideals. Regardless of the pact you make, most of your friends will probably die anyhow, because they’ll reject whatever pardon Maldor offers.”

  “True,” Rachel said.

  “Another part of the price is that you will cease to be who you are. No matter how valiantly you resist, after you enter into an arrangement like this, Maldor will corrupt you. Even if you bide your time and eventually overthrow him, you will not be the person you are today. You will become a person who you would otherwise never want to be.”

  “And the reward for denying Maldor?”

  “You stay true to your friends. You let them face this evil on their own terms. You stand against this evil on your own terms as well, without letting it own you. And you keep that minuscule shred of hope that we might succeed.”

  “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 u
nderstanding. “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 11

  ADVICE

  Fingering the strand of charms around her neck, Rachel strolled along a crunchy trail of white pebbles. Sparkling footpaths wound all about the courtyard, past blooming flower beds, clipped grass, colorful shrubs, and leafy creepers ascending trellised walls. Fluffy springtime blossoms made the trees pink and purple. The aroma of nectar enriched the air, to the evident delight of fat, humming bees.

  “Mind if I intrude?” asked a friendly voice.

  Rachel turned and found Ferrin approaching. Since the day before her disturbing dream, the displacer had been away with Nedwin, delivering messages for Galloran. Rachel glanced over at the gazebo, where Tark and Io sat together. They were always near enough to keep an eye on her, but they tended to keep their distance lately. In some ways she suspected her spooky new outfit worked too well, intimidating even her friends. Tark looked at her inquisitively, as if wondering whether she desired his intervention. She waved a hand to dismiss his concerns.

  Ferrin caught the gesture. “Thank you for restraining your attack dogs.”

  Rachel smiled. “They’ve been extra vigilant ever since . . . Did you hear?”

  “Lurkers broke into your room and entered your dreams.”

  She nodded, a hand on her necklace. “I should have kept wearing this.”

  Ferrin shrugged. “Had this attempt failed, Maldor would have found some other way to contact you. If he was willing to order torivors into a city, he really wanted that message to reach you.”

  “Or he really wanted to scour my brain. He learned about the prophecy.”

  “I was informed. How did Galloran react?”

  Rachel wrung her hands. “He didn’t want me to worry. He told me Maldor already knew that we planned to attack. He told me Maldor would have learned the prophecy one way or another. He told me the lurkers could just as easily have searched any of our minds.”

  “But that response doesn’t satisfy you.”

  “What if I blew it?” Rachel asked softly. “What if I already ruined our chance to fulfill the prophecy? What if I got Jason and Corinne killed?”

  Ferrin shook his head. “It wasn’t your—”

  “I could have worn the charms,” Rachel said. “But I was tired of them. I was relieved to take a break from wearing them, since the city was supposed to be free from lurkers. If I had worn the charms, I could have delayed Maldor from learning the prophecy. What if that would have made all the difference? What if we’ve already lost our chance to succeed?”

  Ferrin watched her, arms folded, expression serious.

  “What?” she finally asked.

  “Maldor is very good at what he does.”

  “Getting information?”

  “That too. But I meant destroying confidence. Spreading fear and uncertainty. What offer did he make you?”

  A line appeared between Rachel’s eyebrows. “Galloran promised not to—”

  “Nobody told me about an offer,” Ferrin said. “I just know how the emperor operates.”

  Rachel glanced at Tark and Io in the gazebo. She didn’t want anyone to overhear. She had only shared this with Galloran. “Maldor promised that if I went to train with him, he would let me save ten of my friends. Any ten I choose.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “Should I?”

  Ferrin sighed deeply. “I worked with Maldor for a long time. Immunity for ten people is the most generous offer I have ever heard him make. He really wants you, which probably means he would fulfill his promise.”

  “You think?”

  “Just make sure you grasp the ramifications. Do you suppose a man like Galloran would accept immunity? He turned down Harthenham. Most of the people you want to protect would refuse the protection.”

  “Would you accept it?” Rachel asked.

  “Me? Full immunity? Better if we don’t discuss it.”

  Rachel lowered her voice to her quietest whisper. “Maldor seems so confident he’ll win. I’m not sure he’s wrong.”

  Ferrin almost replied, then stopped and indicated a slightly curved stone bench. “Sit down.” They sat together. A fuzzy bee circled Rachel before zipping away into some nearby shrubs. Ferrin leaned close to her. “Maldor will probably win.”

  “Comforting,” Rachel muttered.

  “I’m not trying to comfort you,” Ferrin said gravely. “Not right now. I wish I could console you with soothing lies, but I think what you need at the moment is the truth. The oracle told us that Maldor will almost certainly emerge victorious. We have a minute chance of stopping him. Such a small chance that it almost certainly will not happen.”

  “I guess I knew that,” Rachel whispered shakily.

  “That truth could be tempting to forget amid the rousing speeches and busy preparations. Galloran knows how to inspire and mobilize those around him. But don’t let his rhetoric confuse the reality of the situation. If our aim is to dethrone Maldor, we’ve been warned that we’ll probably fail.”

  “Right.”

  “You might be correct about the danger of Maldor learning the prophecy this early. The untimely warning may have already obliterated our meager chances. Any number of other mishaps or decisions may also have destroyed our opportunity for victory. Our cause might already be unwinnable.”

  Rachel nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  “You have a gift,” Ferrin said. “Maldor wants to develop that gift. You could gain more power and position than any of the rest of us could dream. You could be second to Maldor. You could surpass him. You could one day become empress.”

  “I don’t want that,” Rachel whispered.

  “Keep in mind,
the alternative is not anonymity. The alternative is almost certain death and failure.”

  Rachel laced her fingers and squeezed her hands into one big fist. “You think I should go to him?”

  “I think you should confront the truth of the situation. I can tell you’re struggling under the weight of worries that you don’t want to face and desires that you don’t care to admit. I’ve seen your passion for Edomic. You would love to learn its mysteries from a true master. Don’t bury the truth. Confront it.”

  “How? By accepting his offer?”

  Ferrin shook his head. “Not necessarily. You have a choice before you. Confront the truth by honestly assessing the alternatives. Acknowledge the price of your options.”

  Rachel gave him a suspicious stare. “Is this how you go through life? Are you trying to turn me into a displacer?”

  “Maybe a little. What is the price of denying Maldor?”

  Rachel took a shuddering breath. “I probably die. My friends probably die. And we probably die for nothing. We probably lose.”

  “And you miss the chance to live in comfort and power for a thousand years or more,” Ferrin added. “You miss the chance to master Edomic.”

  “Right.”

  “What is the price of accepting the offer?”

  Rachel sighed. “I learn Edomic and get to live a thousand years.”

  “No. That is the reward. The price is that your friends will probably end up miserable. There are no happy people at Harthenham. There is no peace for those who abandon their ideals. Regardless of the pact you make, most of your friends will probably die anyhow, because they’ll reject whatever pardon Maldor offers.”

  “True,” Rachel said.

  “Another part of the price is that you will cease to be who you are. No matter how valiantly you resist, after you enter into an arrangement like this, Maldor will corrupt you. Even if you bide your time and eventually overthrow him, you will not be the person you are today. You will become a person who you would otherwise never want to be.”

  “And the reward for denying Maldor?”

  “You stay true to your friends. You let them face this evil on their own terms. You stand against this evil on your own terms as well, without letting it own you. And you keep that minuscule shred of hope that we might succeed.”

 

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