The night was still, the water nearly flat. A bright moon diminished the stars around it and left a gleaming trail on the tame ripples of the dark sea. Backlit by the moon, a tenebrous personage walked on the water toward the ship, holding a pair of swords upright, the silvery blades glinting in the moonlight.
“Oh no,” Jason whispered, his insides constricting as chills of terror tingled across his shoulders. Two swords meant it was here to duel somebody. What would they do? They needed Galloran for this.
“A lurker,” Corinne gasped.
The black figure did not hurry. Each measured footfall caused almost imperceptible ripples on the water, as if the sea were nothing more than a wide, shallow puddle.
Unable to look away, Jason stared in terror. The lurker was here to kill someone, and there was nobody to stop it. Anyone who intervened would die as well. Who had it come to kill? He tried to deny the awful certainty, but he knew. It had come to kill the person who needed to reach Darian. It had come for him. He was going to die.
Jason turned to Drake. “What do we do?” he asked quietly.
“We can’t outrun it,” Drake replied. “Probably not even if we had wind. You’ve seen how they can move when they choose. Unless we attack it, a torivor bearing swords can only duel one of us. Our only option might be to play its game.”
“I can feel its mind,” Corinne said. “It isn’t being clear about who it wants.”
Jason fingered the charm necklace Rachel had given him. Was there a way out of this? “What if we all hit it at once?”
Drake shook his head. “Then we open the door for it to kill us all. We can’t take that chance. Our errand is too crucial.”
As the torivor drew near to the ship, most of the drinlings fell back. Jason, Corinne, and Drake retreated to the far side of the deck, losing their view of the ominous visitor.
“Did you know they could walk on water?” Jason asked.
“I did not,” Drake replied. “Almost seems like cheating.”
“The lurker that followed me seemed to avoid water,” Jason remembered.
“It might have been trying to conceal the ability,” Drake guessed. “Running water?”
“Yeah, streams,” Jason said. “Think that makes a difference?”
Drake shrugged. “Perhaps. It’s having no trouble here.”
Jasher approached Corinne. “Can you discern who it wants?” he asked urgently.
She shook her head. “I’m trying. It keeps repeating that we’re going to fail. I can’t sense anything else.”
“Most likely targets?” Jasher asked generally.
“Us,” Drake replied. “Those of us who were sent by the oracle. If Maldor knows what he’s doing, Farfalee, Corinne, Jason, and Aram would top the list.”
Jasher gave a nod. “Farfalee already translated the instructions and marked up the maps, making her less essential. Aram is very important while we remain on the water. I don’t want to say too much. Could it still be selecting a target? I don’t want to risk influencing it.”
“It has nearly reached the ship,” warned a worried drinling.
“Do not engage!” Farfalee called. “We went over this back in Durna. A lurker bearing swords can only slay one of us, unless we attack it. One of us may have to pay the toll for the rest of us to proceed.”
A chill ran up Jason’s back. It was him. He would have to pay the toll. Could he be wrong? Maybe he was wrong.
“Failie,” Drake said. “What about the worst-case scenario?”
Farfalee deferred to her husband. “Jasher?”
“We do what must be done,” he said.
“What worst-case scenario?” Jason wondered.
“If it wants somebody, we can’t lose,” Drake replied.
“It’s coming aboard,” a nervous drinling announced, retreating aft. An instant later the torivor came over the side of the boat and landed nimbly on the deck.
“Steady,” Aram grumbled. “Give it space. Don’t offer it an excuse to retaliate.”
Both swords held ready, the torivor turned in a slow circle. No moonlight reflected off its dark form. It was blacker than the sea, blacker than the space between the stars. It made no sound. The shadowy entity stopped turning and faced Jason.
Deep down, Jason had known it was here for him. From his first glimpse of the sinister figure striding upon the water, he had felt an instinctive certainty. His mouth was dry. He could feel his pulse in his hands and throat.
Jason had seen lurkers in action. He was dead. He wouldn’t last a second. There was no place to hide, no way to defend himself.
What if he jumped overboard? It could walk on the water. It would follow him. It would stab him to death in the sea.
Despite the hollow doom in his chest, Jason tried to hold himself together. An irrational part of him wanted to run, to hide, to scream. Glancing at his friends, he saw their concern, and he tried to take strength from their presence.
He was dead! There was nothing he could do. He knew he had been playing a dangerous game. He had theoretically known it might end this way. But part of him had resolutely expected to survive.
That was not going to be the case. Staring at the impassive torivor, Jason knew his life was over. It was almost as if it had already happened. What was he supposed to do? He tried to imagine how Galloran would handle the situation. Galloran would kill the lurker. But what if Galloran knew he couldn’t kill the lurker? He would face it with courage. Like a hero.
Jason straightened. Tears threatened, but he refused them. Since his death was unavoidable, he should try to face it with courage. The lurker might take his life, but it had no power over his dignity. He would try to die well. It would give him something to focus on. He wished he could stop his fingers from trembling.
What about the quest? There was not much to be done about that. This would have to be all right. He had no alternative. The others would have to go on without him, finish the mission. He had known at the start that he might lose his life. He had known that sacrifices were coming. Others had already died bravely. Why should he always be protected?
Hopefully, his death wouldn’t spoil the quest. Maybe his role had been to figure out how to destroy the Maumet. He had wondered why the oracle had placed an emphasis on him. He might have already done his part. The others would collect the information from Darian. It could all happen without him.
Jason tried to slow his breathing. He didn’t want to die! He tried to plan. He had practiced with his sword. Maybe if he gave it everything he had, he would survive for a few seconds. Or maybe he should just stand there and force the lurker to strike him down in cold blood. Why give it the satisfaction of pretending to fight?