“Is this really necessary?” Tark asked. “Ferrin has proven loyal. He could stay with me.”
“I appreciate the sentiment,” Naman said. “I know you have spent months as comrades, and you are right to show some loyalty. Ferrin has served all of us well. We mean him no harm. He will be comfortable. He will be released tomorrow as a friend of the Amar Kabal, the first displacer to receive such an honor. We are simply ensuring that he can be released as a hero.”
Ferrin fixed Naman with a level gaze. “If you arrest me this evening, do not ever call me a friend. It would be a greater insult than I could bear.”
“As you wish,” Naman replied stiffly. “Will you come quietly, or must we drag you from here piece by piece?”
Ferrin looked to Tark. “Make sure Galloran hears of this.” He turned his eyes back to Naman. “Or is Tark to be detained as well?”
“Tark’s allegiance is not in question,” Naman replied. “He is welcome to convey whatever information he likes to Galloran. I will stand by this decision before any authority in the land. It is a just and prudent precaution.”
“Take me with him,” Tark offered. “If Ferrin is to be held under guard, hold me alongside him.”
“No,” Ferrin said. “I would rather that news of my arrest reach Galloran. I’ll go quietly, Naman, though under protest.”
“Your protest is noted,” Naman said. He nodded to the two soldiers in the room, who moved forward, seized the displacer, and ushered him from the tent.
Tark followed. The seedmen outside formed up around Ferrin, marching him away.
“Make no mistake,” Tark heard Ferrin say, “the Amar Kabal have not made a friend tonight.”
Tark stood outside the tent in the fading twilight. It would do no good to seek out Galloran immediately. The king was on the water, and would be for the better part of an hour.
Returning to his tent, Tark found his soup still reasonably warm. The musician had never trusted Ferrin, but he disliked the decision to arrest him. Keep watch on him? Sure. But seizing him like this seemed a certain way to provoke him. Tark would definitely share the news with Galloran. Now that the seedmen had made their move, he hoped the Amar Kabal would keep the displacer under very close guard. Something about Ferrin’s brooding calm throughout the confrontation had left Tark feeling uncomfortable.
CHAPTER 32
TELEPATHY
Someone was calling to her. It was not the first attempt. He sounded far away. It was hard to focus on the words. The meaning escaped her. She would respond later. Right now she was too tired.
The petitioner persisted. Not loudly, but earnestly. The plea for her attention blended with her disjointed dreams, gaining and losing prominence. The voice was familiar. Some instinct insisted that she concentrate.
Rachel, are you there? I know you can sense me. Rachel, you must heed me! Rachel, can you respond? Wake up, Rachel! Wake up!
Rachel opened her eyes. It was Galloran, his mind calling to hers. Her room was dark. She was in bed. She sat up. She felt disoriented. Her mouth was dry and tasted horrible. She was at Felrook! She had tried to attack Maldor and failed! The vicious headache she had expected was almost nonexistent.
Rachel. Respond to me, Rachel! I have vital news! Rachel?
The fervent words tickled at the edge of her awareness, faint as the last bounce of an echo.
Galloran? she replied, putting some effort behind it.
Rachel! I have sought to reach you for two days.
Two days? Where are you?
On the lake. I could perceive your mind, but you were not lucid.
She was already feeling much more alert. I’m so sorry about how I left! I thought I might be able to help from inside Felrook. I had no idea it could be dangerous for you guys.
I understand what you were attempting, Galloran replied. We were almost out of options. You were doing your best. Io was an unfortunate tragedy. You must not blame yourself. He chose to attack. Wartime decisions inevitably lead to casualties.
I tried to attack Maldor, Rachel confessed. He was sick from sending the lurkers, and I hoped to surprise him. I never stood a chance. I tried my best and overexerted myself. I’ve been unconscious. Two days?
Yes. We have little time. Jason shared the prophecy with us.
Really?
The eastern armies are on schedule. They should arrive by midday tomorrow. Rachel, you must flee Felrook before then. You must get well away. If not you will die with . . . minions.
What? I missed part of that! The communication was growing even less distinct. She got out of bed, her legs wobbly. Her mouth tasted disgusting. She padded to the window and opened it, gazing out at the calm evening. The last of the light was fading in the west.
You must escape Felrook by tomorrow morning, Galloran repeated. Otherwise you will die beside Maldor and his minions. We have found a way to stop him. I cannot be more specific than that.
I’m not sure I can escape.
Darian the Seer had a message specifically for you. I think it is meant to help you survive. He wanted you to know that Orruck taught you—
The voice in her head was gone. Rachel leaned out the window and exerted her will. What? Galloran? I lost you again! What about Orruck?
The words returned to her mind so faintly that she bowed her head, eyes closed, not daring to breathe. Orruck taught you what you need to know. One of the commands Orruck imparted was developed by him to harm Zokar. The seer felt . . . useful.
Orruck taught me to call lightning, Rachel replied, unsure whether he could hear her. A massive burst of lightning. I’ve never tried it. And he taught me words to turn stone into glass. Do you think I need lightning?
Rachel?
I’m here! Do you think I need lightning?
The voice in her mind grew stronger. Lightning or the other command. Lightning is volatile. Plan an escape. Take any risk necessary. You must be gone by midday. Your life depends on it. Figure out how Orruck’s commands might prove useful. Otherwise you die tomorrow. Come to me if you can. I will be in the western hills. I cannot sustain this communication. I apologize.
She could feel the strain behind his words. I heard. I’ll do my best. Good luck.
Be brave. You can do this. I am counting on you to escape.
Is Jason all right?
He lives. The words were so weak, she wondered if she might have imagined them. Escape. I’ll watch for you.
The distant communication had evidently taxed Galloran to his limits. He would need his strength for whatever was happening tomorrow. I got the message. Go rest. Thank you.
Rachel backed away from the window. She lit candles and lamps with Edomic. Her gentle headache felt like the result of sleeping too long rather than the punishing backlash of failed Edomic commands. The effort of will to ignite the candles did not seem to enhance the pain. Neither had the conversation with Galloran.