Seeds of Rebellion (20 page)

Moira had quietly sidled toward the kitchen. Reaching around the corner, she retrieved a heavy crossbow. The weapon almost looked too large for her, but she leveled it coolly at Ferrin.

“I admire your caution,” Ferrin said. “Avoiding displacers in these types of arrangements is good for longevity. But every rule has an exception.”

Without warning, Ferrin dove and rolled across the floor toward Moira. She fired the crossbow, but the quarrel hissed over his head, and he whipped her legs out from under her with a sweeping kick. Aram charged.

Wrenching the crossbow from Moira’s grasp, Ferrin used it to parry Aram’s long knife, then sent him to the floor with a sharp kick to the chest. While Aram scrambled to his feet, long knife still in hand, Ferrin drew a dagger and brought it to Moira’s throat.

Jason stood paralyzed with shock and uncertainty. Aram glared from Jason to Ferrin.

“You have a reputation for knifework, Goya,” Ferrin said. “I have some experience myself.”

“This is no way to win friends,” Aram spat.

“This is precisely how to court allies under hostile circumstances,” Ferrin argued. “I was prepared to be civil. You and your mother pulled weapons on me. If I keep the upper hand, hopefully I can show that I mean you no harm.”

“I’ll never trust you,” Aram growled, knuckles white as he clenched the long knife.

“I just need you to work with me. You and Aram know this city. I am willing to believe you can get Jason out. Unfortunately, a lurker is involved. Even with my assistance, Jason will probably be taken. Without my aid, his downfall is certain.”

Aram looked over at Jason. “What do you say?”

“Ferrin has faked friendship in the past. He’s a patient liar. On the other hand, he could have shown up here with soldiers and apprehended us. He has lots of talents. If he’s really on our side, he would be useful.”

“Put the knife down,” Aram said. “You have my word that you’ll leave here unmolested.”

“Finish the conversation first,” Ferrin replied. “Forgive me if I’m slow to rely on the word of a smuggler. We must reach an accord. I insist on helping Jason.”

“Do you have his hand, Jason?” Moira asked, heedless of the blade at her throat. “When he entered, the limb dropper seemed to suggest you had it.”

“I have it,” Jason said.

“It may be all he wants,” Moira pointed out. “He may only be waiting to turn us in until his hand is returned.”

“If all I wanted was the hand, I could have brought guardsmen and taken it,” Ferrin said. “I’m not after money, either. My services come free. I’ve betrayed the emperor for the sake of my friendship with Jason. My only place now is with the resistance.”

“Tell you what,” Aram said. “I still haven’t arranged for horses. Can you meet us at a rendezvous with three fresh mounts?”

“Tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Certainly.”

“One must be large enough to carry Aram.”

“And a fourth for myself.”

“I won’t be coming,” Aram said. “Just Aram and Jason.”

“So the third is for me. How thoughtful.”

“Aram will inspect the area. He’s good. If you’re there with the horses, and no enemies lie in ambush, you’ll get your hand back.”

Ferrin scowled. “I would hate to be left standing alone in the dark all night.”

“You have my oath. Some degree of trust is required. This role is vital. It will fill a gaping need. You will find it difficult to obtain the horses without arousing suspicion. Do we have your word?”

“Naturally.”

“Say it,” Aram pressed.

“You have my word of honor.”

The promise made Jason edgy. He knew Ferrin was willing to lie when it suited his purposes.

“There are several groves inland from the cove north of town,” Aram described. “One has an old well at the center. It’s been in disrepair ever since the water became brackish. Meet us there.”

“Done. I apologize, Moira, for holding you at knifepoint.”

“I’ll forgive you once you prove yourself true,” she responded.

“Don’t forget, you did pull a crossbow on me.” Ferrin stepped away from her, knife ready, eyes on Aram. He retrieved his hat. “Until tonight.” He backed to the door and let himself out.

Aram hurried over to Moira. She was standing up. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she said. “He could have been much more vicious when he took me down. Under the circumstances, he was almost gentle.”

“Lucky for his sake.” Aram glanced at Jason. “You have charming friends.”

“I’m a Beyonder,” Jason apologized. “I met Ferrin before I knew what displacers were.”

“How did he find us?”

“He’s a spy,” Jason said. “It’s what he does. He said he asked around at the Dockside Inn.”

“You have his hand?”

“I stole it when he forced me to return to the Beyond. I used it to keep in touch with him from there.”

Aram opened the front door, checked up and down the street, then withdrew. “How much do you trust him?”

“About as much as you do,” Jason said. “I expect he’ll follow through with the horses. But I’m not sure I want to lead him to Galloran.”

“How would you feel about completely avoiding his assistance?”

Jason thought about it. Ferrin might be sincere. But the displacer had suckered him before. No matter how much help Ferrin could provide, there was a real chance it would end with a double-cross. “Might be safer.”

“Good. Because we’re not exiting town where I described. I’m a man of my word, but I’m willing to make an exception when some limb dropper has a knife to my mother’s throat. Besides, no money changed hands.”

“He’s lied to me before,” Jason said. “It was how we ended up traveling together.”

“Yet he really freed you from Felrook?” Moira asked.

“He did,” Jason confirmed. “He took a huge risk with nothing to gain. It was the sort of thing only a real friend would do. It’s possible he really means to help us.”

“Any doubt is too much when displacers are involved,” Aram said. “We need to leave this house now. There’s a secret back exit. I have many hideaways around town.”

“I’ll gather my things,” Moira said.

“How do you plan to sneak us out of town if the gates and port are covered?” Jason asked Aram.

“We’ll stage a couple of diversions, then sneak under the wall.”

“Under the wall?”

Aram grinned. “How long can you hold your breath?”

The streets of Ithilum quieted as the shadows of evening deepened. Jason followed several paces behind Aram, who had regained his imposing physique at sunset. Wearing trousers and sturdy sandals that Aram had purchased, along with a hat and a brown cloak, Jason felt much less conspicuous than he had in his jeans. Glancing back down the avenue that sloped up from the sea, Jason saw several people moving about. Out on the point of the reef, a fiery beacon flared. Scattered tendrils of mist shone in the distant firelight.

Earlier in the evening Aram had escorted Jason and Moira to a hidden room less than a block from their townhome. He had reviewed several options with his mother regarding resources she could access, including people who could help her and places she could go. He then requested some additional money and jewels from Jason to pay some bribes.

After Aram became tall and strong again, he set off to perform some final errands. Moments ago, he had returned and exchanged solemn but tearless farewells with his mother, who beamed up at her son after their final embrace.

Jason had almost lost it watching them say good-bye. His throat had constricted, and tears had threatened. It saddened him to think that the half giant would probably never see his mother again. They were obviously close.

The farewell had turned his thoughts to his own parents. Sure, he wasn’t especially tight with his mom and dad, but they wanted the best for him and he still loved them. They had worked hard to get him back after he had vanished the first time. They had to be devastated thinking he had been devoured by a hippo. And they might never learn otherwise. At least he knew that his family was home and safe. With a little luck, he might find Rachel and eventually make it back to them.

Up ahead, Aram rounded a corner. When Jason followed him into the alley, Aram stood several paces ahead, gesturing for him to hurry. Jason sprinted to the big man, who boosted him over a wall before following. They crouched together in a courtyard garden. Aram led Jason stealthily to the far side, passing a pond decorated with floating flowers, and hopped up to peer over the wall.

“Some soldiers behind us were showing too much interest,” Aram whispered before shoving Jason over the wall. Jason dropped to the far side. The big man landed beside him an instant later. They hurried across a road and down another alleyway. Aram led them at a furious pace around numerous corners, keeping to narrow streets and crooked alleys. Soon they stood panting in a shadowy side street that opened onto a main road running along the western wall of the town. A row of shops lined the far side of the road along the base of the wall.

Leaning forward, Aram scanned up and down the street. He tapped Jason on the shoulder and led him across the road. They strolled casually to the door of one of the shops. The windows were dark. Aram knocked three times, paused, and then rapped twice more.

The door opened immediately, and Aram led Jason inside.

The cluttered shop contained an assortment of curiosities and knickknacks. Jason noticed a large trunk completely encrusted with shells. A huge trophy fish bristling with quills hung on one wall.

A hunched figure wearing a clownish mask silently guided Aram and Jason to a door at the rear of the store. Judging by his hands, he appeared to be an old man. He took a sleek harpoon from a rack on the wall and handed it to Aram. From a pocket in his loose, shabby coat, their guide produced a glowing length of seaweed. Aram took the seaweed, opened the door, and led Jason
down a rickety flight of wooden stairs that groaned at their passage.

The masked figure closed the door but did not follow.

The deep cellar was a musty maze of stacked crates and indiscernible objects draped in dusty tarps. With quick strides, Aram wove through the clutter to a pyramid of crates in a corner. Winding the seaweed around his thick forearm, Aram began unstacking the wooden boxes, moving them aside until he uncovered a splintered wooden pallet. Raising the heavy pallet, Aram revealed a circular hole in the stone floor protected by a metal grate. Leaving the pallet upended, Aram knelt, produced a key, unlocked the grate, and pulled it open.

“Down the ladder,” Aram instructed.

The gaping hole looked ominous in the turquoise light of the luminescent seaweed. Jason hoped that Aram knew what he was doing. Squatting at the brink, staring down into the darkness, Jason observed iron rungs protruding from the stone. Could this lead to a tunnel under the wall? Turning around, he felt for the first rung with his foot, then began to descend. Aram followed. Jason heard the grate clang softly as it was dragged shut.

The humid odor of seawater permeated the close confines of the shaft. Jason felt like he was climbing down into a well. He counted more than fifty rungs before he could see light from the seaweed reflecting off rippling water below him.

“This passage is one of the best kept secrets in Ithilum,” Aram said from above. “The owner charges exorbitant prices, so it is not often used. Fortunately, this escape was well funded. You’ll find that the rungs continue underwater, and then along a tunnel. Use them. Periodically we’ll encounter barrels chained to the ground. The owner assures me they’re filled with fresh air. Even the swiftest diver could not make this swim unaided, but the passage has been prepared to accommodate any man who can hold his breath
for roughly a minute at a time. Hesitate at no barrel very long. The air will grow stale. I’ll go first, in case any dangerous creatures lurk ahead.”

“Creatures?” Jason asked.

“Aquatic predators. Let me worry about them. You just move quickly, and try to look inedible.”

Aram pulled a fresh piece of seaweed from his pocket and twisted it, triggering the bioluminescent reaction. The seaweed emitted a sickly green light.

“Fasten this around your wrist,” Aram directed.

Jason took the seaweed, then hooked his elbow through an iron rung to maintain his balance while securing it.

“Ready?” Aram asked.

“I guess.”

“Wait a moment or two and then follow me.”

Harpoon in hand, the huge man released his grip and fell past Jason into the water, illuminating the previously murky liquid. Jason watched Aram find the rungs and use them to hurry downward. As he moved away across the floor of the submerged chamber, the turquoise illumination began to fade.

Clinging to the iron rungs, Jason wondered what was wrong with riding out of town in the secret compartment of a wagon. This seemed almost as dangerous as fighting their way past soldiers. But he supposed there was no turning back now.

Jason blew all the air from his lungs, inhaled deeply, and blew it out again. After another deep indrawn breath, he dropped into the water. He hardly noticed the gentle sting of the cool brine against his eyes as he found the rungs and pulled himself deeper. The bottom of the shaft opened through the roof of an underwater cavern, the regular stonework giving way to natural formations. But the rungs continued.