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Authors: Brandon Mull

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BOOK: Seeds of Rebellion
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Rachel climbed the strapping steed. The back felt ridiculously broad. Corinne mounted behind her. “It has been a long time,” she murmured to Rachel.

“You rode as a child?” Rachel asked.

“I have fond memories of the activity,” Corinne said. “On this big stallion, I almost feel like a child again.”

“You and me both,” Rachel said.

As they got moving, the pace increased dramatically. Aram
kept hold of his horse, and Dorsio led the mare. Rachel felt sorry for Jason and all the men as they jogged along. While Drake scouted on Mandibar, Nedwin led the group, and Ferrin roved nearby.

The moon often vanished behind clouds, making it hard to keep track of the surrounding terrain. Sometimes they progressed across level ground. Other times they weaved among boulders and crags. Occasionally they advanced along the floor of a ravine or followed winding paths up rocky slopes.

As the night wore on, Tark began to cough. What started as an occasional clearing of his throat grew into deep hacking. For much of the night his coughing would subside when they paused for a break. But as sunrise drew near, they stopped beside a wide stream, and he fell to his hands and knees, coughing and gagging until he hawked up a dark-green wad of phlegm. Rachel turned away from the disgusting mass, wishing she hadn’t glimpsed it.

“What does his mouth look like?” Galloran inquired.

Jason stood nearest to him. Tark opened his mouth and flattened his tongue. Jason winced. “His throat looks full of mold. The whole back of his mouth is coated by purplish fuzz.”

Aram peered over Jason’s shoulder. “Quite a garden you have in there.”

Rachel resisted the bile rising in her throat at the descriptions. Her hand involuntarily strayed to her neck.

“Lungrot,” Galloran declared. “Corinne and Rachel should walk for a time. I had hoped to avoid fungal illnesses. Tark will require the horse.”

“I’m fine,” the musician protested. “Let the ladies ride.”

Rachel had already slid off to the ground. “It’ll feel good to stretch my legs,” she insisted.

Corinne followed her example. “I was getting awfully cramped in that saddle.”

Tark was already hacking miserably again. The fit culminated with a noisy bout of dry heaving.

“Will he be all right?” Jason asked.

“The Amar Kabal have skilled healers for such maladies,” Galloran said. “Much will depend on how swiftly we can get him there. Drink, refill your waterskins, and then we should move on.”

Jason and Rachel went to a slate shelf where water fell in a transparent curtain. Cool water splashed Rachel’s wrists as she disrupted the smooth cascade with her waterskin. The horses drank from the mossy pool below.

“You look tired,” Rachel told Jason.

“I wish I could jog and sleep at the same time.”

“Can’t you?” Ferrin asked, joining them at the little cascade. “I always imagined that you could sleep rolling down a mountainside in a barrel.”

“I probably could today,” Jason conceded.

“How’s it look out there?” Rachel asked. She hadn’t seen Ferrin in more than an hour.

“Quiet,” Ferrin replied. “I haven’t heard Drake in some time. He must have roamed far.”

“There goes Nedwin,” Aram said, pointing.

Nedwin was scaling a vertical finger of rock to get a view of the broken countryside. He ascended without hesitation, despite an apparent lack of handholds.

“How does he do that?” Corinne asked.

“I’m not sure,” Ferrin muttered.

Tark erupted in another fit of coughing. His face turned red, veins stood out in his neck, and he began to vomit. Rachel covered her ears until he finished.

Aram came up to Ferrin. “Do you know which way we’re heading? I thought I might run ahead while I have my size.”

Rachel glanced at the light gathering on the cloudy horizon. The sun would appear within an hour.

Ferrin turned to face the craggy mountains. They loomed much closer than they had at dusk, but a broken succession of bluffs and ridges still separated the group from the feet of the real slopes.

“See the ridge with the notch?”

“The one above that really square edge?”

“Exactly. We’re heading around the right side of it, then along a ravine.”

“Understood. See you there.” Aram took off almost at a sprint, ring mail jangling.

“All of us should hurry,” Galloran prompted.

Jason looked up to where Nedwin was descending the spire of rock.

“Nedwin will catch up,” Ferrin said, patting Jason on the arm. “Why don’t you lead Aram’s horse?”

They started moving again, with Ferrin in front and Dorsio and Jason guiding the horses. Corinne and Rachel fell into step beside each other.

“You and Jason both hail from the Beyond?” Corinne asked.

“We didn’t know each other there,” Rachel replied. “We’re from different areas. But yes, we’re Beyonders.”

“You seem close.”

“We’ve been through a lot together.”

“You seem rather young to be involved with my father.”

“We didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter,” Rachel said. “It just worked out this way. We can’t be too much younger than you.”

“I’m nineteen.”

“How long were you in that tree?”

“Since I was four.”

Rachel tried to imagine what it would be like if her only real
memories of the world came from age four or younger. “This must all feel really new.”

Corinne gave a brief laugh, emphasizing the understatement. “I’m not used to company. Or danger. Or changes of scenery. I have vivid, distant memories of my childhood—a nursemaid, a playroom full of wonderful toys, a bed with lacy covers, delicious bowls of chilled fruit floating in cream—culminating with my father smuggling me away in the night. He brought me to a tree in the swamp to visit my great-aunt Madeline. The rest of my life happened somewhere beyond the opening to that tree. Every memory begins when I exit the tree and ends when I enter it. I remember some conversations with my father from my younger days. Then he stopped visiting. I remember conversing with my great-aunt. One memory begins with me dragging her lifeless body out of the tree. I didn’t even know how she had died, until I found the note I had written to myself. Thereafter my only memories pertain to performing exercises with my sword and reading books.”

“I can barely imagine,” Rachel said.

“I dreamed of escaping for years,” Corinne sighed. “Now that I’m free, I can hardly believe it. Part of me had begun to suspect I would grow old and die on that muddy little island. Everything has changed so quickly. I barely know how to feel. This might sound silly, but I somehow expected that when I finally did leave the swamp, it would mean the end of my troubles. Father would take me home to a happier, more meaningful life—the hard-earned reward for my patience. I never expected this.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Rachel said, “I never expected anything like this either.”

They picked their way across a rugged stretch; then the route became smoother and their pace increased. Rachel found herself
perspiring and breathing hard. How had the others done this all night? No wonder Jason had looked so tired.

When the sun came up, Rachel paused to stare at the glorious horizon. Beams of sunlight shot through the clouds at dramatic angles, throwing dazzling highlights over the landscape. “Is it always so beautiful?” Corinne asked.

Rachel realized that the vegetation in the swamp would have blocked out sunrises and sunsets. “It’s an extra-good one,” Rachel replied. “But they’re usually pretty nice.”

They hurried onward. After hiking through a long, shallow ravine, they found Aram waiting for them, his ring-mail shirt and heavy cloak bundled with his sword. Ferrin called for a halt, perhaps because he had noticed that Corinne looked ready to faint. Rachel felt bad for her. No matter how much Corinne had practiced with her sword and otherwise tried to stay active, it would be tough to get much cardio when trapped on a tiny island.

While they rested in the shade of an outcrop, drinking from waterskins and catching their breath, Nedwin shouted from a distance that Drake was returning. Within a few minutes, they could hear the horse, and soon Drake rode up on Mandibar.

“I’ve spotted our enemies,” Drake said, urgency in his tone. “At least forty horsemen riding hard, and another large company of riders coming from farther off.”

“How close are they?” Galloran asked gravely.

“We’re much closer to the pass,” Drake said. “I could only spy them from a high lookout miles from here. But in shameless defiance of the treaty, they’re on the main road and riding hard. They’re trying to beat us to West Gate.”

“We have to get there first,” Galloran said.

“That or hide in these foothills,” Drake said. “I know the region well.”

Galloran shook his head. “If they block us from the pass, with a lurker after us and with Maldor adding more soldiers to the hunt, we’ll not stay hidden long.”

Drake scowled thoughtfully. “You really think the Amar Kabal will remain idle if Maldor brings a major force to their doorstep?”

“They may complain,” Galloran said. “But given their recent behavior, I would be shocked if they intervened directly. Maldor has lulled your people into a very cautious state.”

“Mandibar could take two riders if we keep a moderate pace,” Aram said. “So can my horse. Do we send five of us ahead?”

“Galloran, Tark, Rachel, Corinne, and Jason,” Ferrin said. “If they make it to safety, I don’t expect Maldor will risk provoking the Amar Kabal just to harass the rest of us. He’d have to commit too many resources.”

“Could we find the right way to go?” Rachel asked. “Seems like Drake, Nedwin, and Ferrin are the people who can navigate these ridges.”

“Leave me,” Tark panted. “Let Drake take my place. I might be done for anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Jason said. “You’ve been sounding better lately.”

“He lacks the breath to cough,” Galloran said. “I’ve been listening to him wheeze. The lungrot is advancing swiftly.”

Tark climbed down off the horse.

Galloran lowered his eyebrows when Tark’s feet hit the ground. “I didn’t mean for you to dismount. I just meant that your condition is most serious. You could survive, but if you don’t reach the Amar Kabal soon, the illness will take you. Mount up, Tark. Drake, what are the chances of us beating the horsemen to West Gate if we stay together?”

“Despite our huge lead, they’re moving very fast on a good
road. It could be close. I rigged three orantium traps along the road. That’s what took me so long. When a hoof hits the wrong spot, an orantium globe will send up an unmistakable signal. The explosion might also confuse and slow them, if they think they’re under attack.”

“There’s a thought,” Ferrin said. “We have plenty of orantium. A pair of us could set up an ambush along the main road and slow them, buy time for the others. If we can find a favorable spot, we might even defeat them.”

Galloran frowned. “If we stay together, can we beat the horsemen to the mouth of the pass?”

“To the mouth?” Drake repeated. “Almost certainly. We’re perhaps three hours from the start of the pass. If we exert ourselves, our pursuers couldn’t get there before us. But even hurrying, it will require more than an hour to make it up the pass to the gate. They could very well ride us down in the meanwhile.”

“Is there a better bottleneck than the pass for an ambush?” Galloran asked.

Drake shook his head. “West Gate was placed in that pass because the way becomes so narrow.”

“Let’s race them,” Galloran said. “If it comes to it, the tight confines of the pass should allow an ambush to wreak havoc on them with orantium.”

Drake folded his arms, his expression brooding. “Once in the pass, there will be no fleeing except through West Gate. If our enemies catch up, or if we’re denied admittance, there will be nowhere to hide.”

“I am an honorary citizen of the Seven Vales by ceremony,” Galloran said. “If the Amar Kabal look on while I’m slaughtered outside their gates, our cause is already beyond hopeless.”

“Corinne’s tired,” Rachel blurted.

“We’ll put her on Mandibar,” Drake said, dismounting. “I have little reason to scout between here and the pass.”

“This is our final sprint,” Galloran said. “We’ll take turns riding as needed to keep the best possible pace. We’re running for more than our lives. The future of Lyrian depends on our success.”

The pace did not feel enough like a sprint to Rachel. Then again, an actual sprint over rough terrain for several miles after so much exertion might not have been realistic. Still, they went faster than ever, and before long the pace seemed plenty quick. Rachel eventually rode again for a while, and Jason mounted up behind Tark for a time. Corinne took another turn jogging so that Aram could ride behind Rachel.

The sun rose higher. Rachel returned to jogging once she felt rested. She had always been in good shape, and roaming the wilderness for weeks on end had her in the best shape of her life. But still she found herself flagging. She tried to draw strength from Nedwin, Drake, Ferrin, and Dorsio, who could apparently press forward forever without respite.

BOOK: Seeds of Rebellion
4.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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