Chasing the Prophecy Page 91

“When would we launch such an offensive?” Ferrin asked.

“We should give Jason every possible minute to provide a better alternative,” Galloran said. “If we mean to attack Felrook with blind faith, I say we wait until the day before the eastern armies reach us. We will either breach the walls quickly or not at all.”

Ferrin rubbed his eyes. “None of these alternatives inspire any hope in me. They are all madness.”

“I heartily agree,” Galloran said. “Rachel, we could still mount an attack on the gateway to the Beyond and send you home.”

Rachel sighed. “It probably wouldn’t get me home. Not really. The flow of time between our worlds is messed up. The oracle gave me a certain day that would get me close to my own time. I’ve been keeping track. That day is still more than four years away.”

“Would you rather die than risk ending up in the wrong time period?” Galloran asked frankly.

“I don’t know,” Rachel said. “I mainly wanted to go home to be with my parents. I’m not sure if I’d want to live at any other time in my world. There are tons of time periods that would be nightmarish for a girl like me who grew up in modern America. Could we use that option as a last resort? If all else fails, maybe we can all fall back to the gateway and escape to my world.”

“We would have to plan for it before the last moment,” Ferrin said. “Maldor will not want us near his gateway once he has enough soldiers here to impede us. We would have to go there before the eastern armies arrive.”

“It might be something to—” Galloran stopped, cocking his head. He pulled off his blindfold. “I sense lurkers.” After they had reached Felrook, he had stopped wearing the charm Drake had given him to shield his mind. Galloran had decided that he would rather be aware of the lurkers than try to hide from them. “Closer than usual. More than one, closing swiftly.” He rose to his feet, looking around. “They seem to be—”

Upper windows on both sides of the hall shattered, and wraithlike figures bearing swords dropped into the room. Two dashed to block access to the large door at the end of the hall. The other three loosely surrounded the small meeting. All five lurkers held a pair of swords.

Rachel felt a horrible chill. What was going on? Had she done this? Why so many lurkers? Why all the swords?

“This is unprecedented,” Ferrin said, rising and drawing his torivorian sword.

“One for each of us?” Tark growled.

“No,” Galloran said, his blade ringing as he unsheathed it. “I sense their intent. They want Rachel. They will do anything to take her from us. Three will oppose me at once if necessary.”

“Not if I have a say,” Io declared. Holding up an empty hand, he marched toward a torivor. The dark being tossed him a blade.

“No!” Rachel shrieked. “Don’t fight them!” This wasn’t what she had wanted. She had pictured some agent of Maldor helping her sneak away from East Keep alone in the night.

Heedless of her words, Io rushed forward. The lurker resisted him with casual grace. The blades chimed five times before Io was stabbed, and once more before the torivor cut him down definitively.

Rachel whimpered. She couldn’t breathe. Her mind felt frozen. Her guts twisted in dreadful knots.

The torivors moved with liquid grace, unhurried but deliberate. The two at the doors came forward. Joined by one of the others, they formed a perfect triangle around Galloran, all facing him, all holding their pairs of swords vertically. Another lurker was nearing Ferrin, while the one who had vanquished Io came toward Rachel.

Tark edged over to stand in front of Rachel, his knife ready. As he leaned forward she laid a staying hand on his solid shoulder. No matter how horrified and ashamed she felt, she could not let this go on any longer or all her friends were going to die.

“No, Tark,” Rachel managed, relieved that her voice held steady. “Wait.”

None of the lurkers had tossed their swords to begin their duels. Rachel pulled off her charm necklace. Why so many of you? she asked the nearest lurker.

You desire passage to Felrook. Five were sent. Five came.

Don’t do this, Rachel conveyed earnestly. Don’t harm them.

Only you can prevent more bloodshed, the lurker informed her. We will fight if opposed. Have your guardians stand down.

Rachel looked to Galloran. Every part of her wanted to conceal that she had summoned these lurkers. Had he heard her exchange with them? Would he let her go without an explanation? She could not afford to wait. If she hesitated, her friends would die.

No, Galloran warned her sharply. Don’t succumb. This is extortion. He wants you. This incursion means Maldor is feeling desperate. Jason must be close to his goal.

Her thoughts felt nakedly obvious. How much did he know? I called them, Rachel conveyed. I asked for Maldor to bring me to him. Could she explain that she meant to betray the emperor? Would the lurkers overhear? Were they overhearing now?

Rachel, Galloran communicated, the word full of despair. The emotion behind it made her feel lost. The king looked defeated.

I wanted to help, Rachel tried. We seemed to be at a dead end.

“It’s really quiet,” Ferrin said. He was edging away from the lurker facing him. “Are we in the midst of a silent negotiation? I take it they want Rachel?”

“She is willing to go,” Galloran pronounced. “You don’t need to do this, Rachel. We’ll stand with you.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Rachel,” Ferrin said. “He’ll ruin you. Don’t go because of us. Don’t worry about me.” He charged his lurker.

“No!” Rachel cried.

The lurker only defended itself with one weapon. Blades blurred and chimed. Ferrin’s attack was so intense that for the first couple of moments they almost looked evenly matched. Then Ferrin was dodging away, entirely on the defensive. Then the lurker chopped him in half at the waist.

Ferrin kept swinging, forcing the lurker to crouch and continue defending itself. Ferrin’s legs slid the lower half of his body toward the upper half. Within another few swings, the lurker decapitated Ferrin. The headless torso kept fighting. Pressing the attack, the lurker hacked off Ferrin’s sword arm.

“Stop!” Rachel screamed with her mouth and mind. “Stop and I’ll come! Don’t hurt him! Don’t kill them or I stay!”

Still holding two swords, the torivor backed away from Ferrin.

“No, Rachel,” Ferrin said, pulling his head back into place. “Take it back.” He reached for his arm.

Prev page Next page