Jason glanced at Rachel. “Galloran says you shouldn’t joke about my intellect or it might swallow yours whole.”
“Now you’re hearing his thoughts too?” Rachel replied.
Jason gave a small shrug. “Galloran says don’t be jealous, but we’ve been using telepathy since our first meeting. Right, Your Majesty?”
“Jason and I share a quieter understanding,” Galloran said diplomatically. “Please, sit; we have much to discuss. This is Sakar, a friend of Jasher and Farfalee.”
Sakar nodded a greeting.
Jason and Rachel sat on mats across from Galloran. Farfalee occupied a mat at the side of the low table.
“You met with the Conclave?” Rachel asked.
“Indeed,” Galloran said. “The delegation to Mianamon will depart the morning after tomorrow.”
“You want us to go,” Jason said. Why else would Galloran have singled them out for a conversation?
“No,” Galloran said. “You have already sacrificed so much for the sake of Lyrian. The trip to Mianamon will be dangerous, and if successful, the journey will only lead to more peril. This request has nothing to do with my wants. Only our need.”
“So you need us to go,” Rachel said.
Galloran sighed heavily. “My hopes that an offensive could be successful largely rest on the fact that the oracle of Mianamon summoned you from the Beyond to aid our world. She must have seen your involvement making a vital difference. Since you’ve already contributed more than I could have dreamed, your roles in our struggle might be complete. However, if the oracle truly foresaw a chance for victory, I suspect your involvement may remain integral to our success. The only way to know for certain will be to bring you before her.”
“You told Pallas that the oracle can only see the futures of those present,” Jason said.
“Those are certainly the futures the oracle can see most clearly,” Galloran confirmed. “For that reason, members of the Amar Kabal should be in attendance, as should some drinlings, as well as any others who may play a key role in the rebellion.”
“What if we find out that our roles are finished?” Rachel wondered.
“Then I’ll do everything in my power to shield you from the upcoming hostilities,” Galloran said.
“Won’t you need to be there?” Jason asked. “Your role might be the most crucial.”
Galloran nodded. “For that reason, after my diplomatic mission to Felrook, I will seek to rejoin you at the Last Inn, the southernmost outpost before the jungle. In case I fail to arrive, Corinne will have to join your delegation, prepared to fill my role in my absence. As the last true heir to Trensicourt, she should be able to rally the kingdom under her leadership, if necessary.”
Jason could tell that Galloran didn’t relish the thought of that responsibility falling to his daughter. “Why are you going to Felrook at all? It seems too dangerous.”
“Partly to satisfy the Amar Kabal,” Galloran said. “My presence will reduce the appearance that they are trying to secretly harbor fugitives. I’ll share in their diplomatic immunity, and consequently I do not expect Maldor to move openly against me. He does not yet crave a war with the People of the Seed. I believe this will be the safest way for a blind man to escape the Vales. Also, I have some unfinished business of my own with the emperor.”
“Sounds risky,” Jason muttered.
“We’re all out of safe options,” Galloran replied.
“I have a question,” Rachel said. “If we have to be at Mianamon in order for the oracle to prophesy, how did Tark’s friend Simeon learn about how Jason and I could help Lyrian?”
“I’m not sure Simeon ascertained many specifics,” Galloran said. “He may have simply learned that you two could make a significant difference and how his own efforts could summon you.”
Jason rubbed his hands together anxiously. “With us there, the oracle should be able to fill in the details more clearly?”
“In theory,” Galloran said. “Predicting the future is an uncertain endeavor. You can never guarantee how much or how little will be visible to even the most powerful oracle.”
“It would be nice to know for sure why we were brought here,” Rachel said.
“The price of that knowledge may be high,” Galloran warned. “You’ll take a precarious northern passage through rugged mountains, until you reach the tundra of the hinterlands. From there you will move eastward, paralleling the mountain chain. You won’t be able to go south until you reach Ebera, the Forsaken Kingdom.”
“None who enter Ebera are permitted to leave,” Farfalee interrupted. “The Forsaken Kingdom lies on the eastern coast of Lyrian, north of Kadara and the fertile hills of the drinlings. The infamous wizard Kel Jerud built his tower there, a stronghold known as the Black Spire. Before his death, he warned that his abode was protected by nightmarish wards. He was the mightiest wizard of his time. Centuries after his death, a group of treasure hunters finally defied his warning, lured by the promise of unguessable riches. The fortune seekers unleashed a virulent plague that transformed them into the walking dead.”
Galloran continued the narrative. “Only the geography of Ebera, accompanied by the swift action of King Linus, ruler of Ebera when the plague broke out, saved all of Lyrian from infection. North of Ebera lies frozen wasteland, west lie the mountains, east lies the ocean, and south lies the Silver River. Linus burned all of his shipyards and ferries, cutting off Ebera from the rest of the continent. When the sickness spread quickly to the various cities of Ebera, he established walled settlements for those not yet infected by the plague, and forbade any citizen of Ebera, healthy or not, from leaving. Linus warned Kadara of the plague, and Kadarians have patrolled the Silver River ever since, to help prevent an infected person from crossing.”
“We get to go there?” Jason asked.
“The current state of Ebera is unknown,” Sakar said. “Surely the population has dwindled and grown sparse. The drinlings help Kadara patrol the Silver River. I’m not wanted by the emperor. While you go through the mountains and across the tundra, I can take a more direct road to consult with the drinlings. I’ve dealt with them in the past. Hopefully, they can help us get you across the Silver River and aid you on your way to the Last Inn.”
“The way will be hard and fraught with uncertainty,” Galloran said, “but that is part of the reason we doubt Maldor or his minions will anticipate this road. We have no surety about what to expect in Ebera. We’re hoping that if you stay in the wilderness, you might slip through the Forsaken Kingdom unnoticed. But there is a significant element of risk. None will be compelled to join the delegation, including the two of you.”