Chasing the Prophecy
Raucous cheering broke out aboard the Valiant. All pretenses abandoned, just about everyone crowded the stern, whooping and jeering and clapping. Bat’s name was chanted in unison.
It was impossible to see what exactly had happened to Bat, but the listing Avenger must have sailed well past him before it really started to wallow. Aram ordered a few drinlings back to their stations. As twilight deepened, everyone else stayed put to watch the Avenger sink.
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.”