A World Without Heroes Page 88

Jason peeked over the gunwale and saw the knife pierce the frog just above the foreign eye, sending the amphibian backward off the log. Grimacing, Jasher speedily guided the skiff to the bank. “Somewhere, a displacer has learned where we are and that I travel with you. Someone must have stumbled across our trail. There must be quite a manhunt underway. We should move swiftly.”

He and Jason dragged the boat out of the water and overturned it. In the waning light they hurriedly concealed the vessel. Jason noticed that Jasher’s hands were raw and covered with dried blood and the flattened remains of burst blisters.

Night fell as they marched away from the edge of the swamp. Unseen clouds blotted out many of the stars. Well after dark they found a fairly dry spot to bed down. Rachel had kept many of the puffballs from the boat, and she arranged them around their little campsite. The presence of the mushrooms let Jason rest easier.

The next morning, before any evidence of sunrise had colored the sky, Jasher awakened Jason and Rachel. They set off immediately, munching on the last of the gutplug while they walked.

“We must clarify our next move,” Jasher said.

“Okay,” Jason agreed. “Who is this guy Kimp?”

Jasher smiled. “That was the best news we took from the swamp. Finding the Temple of Mianamon would have been a daunting journey. Now locating the second syllable will be simpler, though perhaps equally perilous.”

“At least it’s still perilous,” Jason said with mock relief.

Rachel elbowed him. “This is serious.”

“Kimp serves Maldor,” Jasher said. “Not long before Galloran was taken, he captured Kimp. That must be when he placed the tattoo. You must understand, Kimp collects tattoos. Most all the surface of his body is marked in green and black ink. Assuming the mark left by Galloran remains, all you must do is read it off his shoulder blade.”

“Do you know where this guy is?” Rachel asked.

“That is the best part. I do. I spend a lot of my time monitoring Maldor and his chief henchmen, searching for opportunities to strike. Kimp currently dwells in Harthenham Castle, where the Eternal Feast is held.”

“I have an invitation to the Eternal Feast,” Jason reminded everyone.

“It has been on my mind,” Jasher said.

“Will they still accept it?” Jason wondered.

“Have you formally rejected the invitation?” Jasher asked.

“No.”

“This is your first invitation?”

“Yes.”

“There was no expiration listed?”

“No.”

“Then it remains in force.”

“Did it go in the water with you?” Rachel wondered.

“No,” Jason said. “I had it in my bag in the skiff. It should be fine.”

“Where is the castle?” Rachel asked as they pushed through a stand of thick reeds.

“Several days east of here,” Jasher said. “Assuming our horses remain where we left them. On foot the journey could take weeks. We’ll have to approach our mounts carefully. If our pursuers found them, it would be an ideal location for an ambush.”

“What can you tell me about the Eternal Feast?” Jason asked.

“Maldor invites his most dangerous adversaries to the Eternal Feast at Harthenham Castle. Duke Conrad presides over the festivities. None who have answered the invitation have ever returned.”

“Is it a trick?” Jason asked. “Are they killed?”

“Supposedly not. At first guests typically send correspondence explaining that they intend to prolong their stay. Inevitably word comes that they have chosen to remain indefinitely.”

“Must be good food,” Jason said.

“I’m sure they don’t make leaving easy,” Jasher said. “Getting in should require little effort. Getting away will be the challenge.”

“Have you been invited?” Rachel asked Jasher.

“Three times.”

“But you never went.”

“I never considered accepting. Nor did Galloran. But now Jason must. Traveling to Mianamon would take months, and it would lead us into the most dangerous and unexplored terrain on the continent.”

“Could you and Rachel come with me?” Jason asked.

“I would if I could,” Jasher said. “My opportunity to accept has passed. The third invitation issued an ultimatum. It was dated, and I let the date lapse. I am the only man I know of against whom Maldor has issued a standing death warrant. He no longer cares to beguile me. I am to be killed at any opportunity. If I joined you, I would be slain on sight.”

“What about your seed?” Rachel asked.

“If he could destroy my amar in secret, Maldor would not hesitate. Otherwise I suppose it would be locked away where it could never be planted.”

Jason rubbed his chin. “So we need to separate,” he said reluctantly.

“What about me?” Rachel asked. “Why can’t I get invited?”

“That could happen,” Jasher said. “It would take time. Jason’s high-profile maneuvers in Trensicourt brought the invitation more swiftly than usual.”

“I know five syllables of the Word,” Rachel said.

“Maldor can’t imagine you know more than four,” Jasher replied. “The clue in the lorevault is something Galloran did on the sly, since the fourth syllable required a voyage to a distant island. The syllables you get in secret, like the one at Harthenham, give you a huge advantage. If Maldor thinks you only have four syllables, he may feel sufficient confidence to enter your presence, giving you the chance we’ve been waiting for.”

“It all depends on getting this last syllable from Kimp,” Jason said.

“We need to act quickly,” Jasher said. “This opportunity could dissolve.”

“I get it,” Rachel said. “There isn’t time to build my reputation enough to get me invited.”

“Hopefully, our separation will be brief,” Jasher said. “Rachel will remain with me. We’ll await you, Jason, outside of the castle. We’ll be there to help, horses ready, when you make your escape. You must keep foremost in your mind the understanding that you are not there for the feast. Forgo all pleasures and diversions. Accept as little hospitality from your hosts as you can. Beware gifts from Maldor. He gives gifts to people much as fishermen offer worms to trout.”

* * *

Five days later, from the cover of a wooded hillside, Jasher, Jason, and Rachel watched a rider clad in scarlet galloping in the distance, his bright cloak flapping like a flag. With Jasher as their guide they had recovered their horses and made their way across the wilderness without incident.

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