“The Seven Vales represent the most secure sanctuary in Lyrian,” Farfalee said. “Either one of you would be welcome to remain here as guests until the end of your days … or for as long as our nation stands.”
“Who else will join the delegation to Mianamon?” Jason asked.
“I intend to invite all of our companions besides Dorsio,” Galloran said. “There will also be six seedfolk.”
“Including me,” Farfalee said. “I will represent the Conclave.”
“Really?” Rachel asked.
“We all must do our part,” Farfalee responded.
“Rachel,” Galloran said. “Jason. You’ve had little choice regarding much of your involvement against Maldor. This time the decision whether to participate is truly yours. As Farfalee said, the Amar Kabal would grant you safe harbor if desired. By staying here, you would have a fair chance of avoiding violence for years to come. I will still do everything in my power to help you get home as soon as that option becomes feasible. Should this rebellion fail, the Seven Vales will almost certainly be the last nation to fall. If you need time to deliberate, you’re welcome to respond tomorrow.”
“I don’t need to wait,” Jason said. “I came back to Lyrian on purpose. Our best chance of getting home is to defeat Maldor, and if my help might be important, I want to know. If my help isn’t needed, that would also be good to find out.”
“I’m with Jason,” Rachel said. “You can count on us to go to Mianamon.”
Galloran smiled. “The need is great, or else I would not consider this strategy. You will be accompanied by some of the finest warriors in Lyrian. The way will be difficult, but I do not believe it will be impossible, or else I would not involve my daughter.”
“Tomorrow evening we’ll travel to the trailhead to quietly get an early start,” Farfalee said.
“Anything else you would like to know?” Galloran asked.
“What about all of the orantium in the Drowned City?” Jason asked.
“The Conclave sent a message by eagle to a small group of seedfolk who man a permanent observation station in the trees near the northeastern corner of the swamp. They will recover the orantium in the rafts and dive for more at the Drowned City.”
“Yesterday you mentioned how we killed the menace,” Rachel recalled. “You also talked about finding a large stash of orantium. Some who listened might guess that the orantium was in the Drowned City.”
“Which is why we sent the eagle,” Galloran said. “We have no reason to believe spies have infiltrated the Amar Kabal, but we can’t be too cautious. Pallas is doing everything in his power to quickly and quietly acquire the explosives.”
“One more question,” Jason said. “Rachel told me you were able to psychically use her eyes to win the duel yesterday. If she stayed with you, couldn’t you keep on borrowing her sight?”
“It was a desperate gambit,” Galloran said. “Viewing myself and Naman that way required extraordinary mental exertion. You may have noticed, after I maneuvered into position and got used to the perspective, I went for a hasty victory. Had Naman held off my attack, exhaustion would have soon led to my demise. It was a calculated risk, and one that would not be very useful outside of a controlled environment. Could I see through her eyes again? Certainly. Could it ever be useful again? Possibly. Am I willing to bring Rachel to Felrook, even under supposed diplomatic immunity? Given her gift for Edomic and her status as a Beyonder, absolutely not.”
“I’d come if you wanted,” Rachel said.
“You’re brave and loyal. But no, I would honestly prefer you far from Felrook. If Maldor understands your capabilities, he’ll be more interested in apprehending you than any of us. Your presence could jeopardize the mission.”
“Then I guess I have a final question too,” Rachel said. “What can we do to prepare between now and when we leave?”
“Get rest,” Farfalee advised. “It will soon be in short supply.”
From the southern rim of Highvale, Rachel gazed down at the fat crescent of Northvale, and farther to mist-enshrouded Roundvale. A steep, serpentine path had led up from Roundvale to these smaller, higher valleys, but the way was about to become impassable by horses.
The Amar Kabal had no intention of improving the northward trails. Farfalee had explained that the few routes through the mountains were tricky to find or to follow. The narrow, treacherous windings helped ensure that any attack from the north would come as a trickle rather than a flood. Not that anyone lived north of the Vales. Still, in the warmer months, an invading army could theoretically gain access by crossing the tundra from the ocean.
Rachel glanced to one side, where Drake sat astride a chocolate brown stallion. He had given Mandibar to Galloran for the journey south. She and Drake had wakened early and slipped away from camp. The delegation had ascended to Highvale in the dark, and he had insisted that she shouldn’t miss the view from the southern rim. His flat features did not leave the seedman much of a profile as he glowered down at the misty morning.
“I love these valleys,” Drake said, apparently feeling her gaze. “So many memories. So many relationships. Years upon years. Lifetimes upon lifetimes. It is strange to ride through here unwelcomed. I wonder if I will ever behold my homeland again.”
“It’s beautiful,” Rachel said. “This is my favorite place in Lyrian.”
“I have a cottage deeper in these mountains,” Drake said. “Built it myself. I lived there for more than two lifetimes. Not short, reckless lifetimes like at Harthenham. Long ones. Good ones. I had my own valley. Not very big, but much more than I needed. To my knowledge, nobody else has ever found it. There is no easy way to get there. Winters were long. I needed to hoard plenty of wood and food.”
“Did you get lonely?” Rachel asked.
“Not for a long time. I grew old alone twice—older than I reached during any other lifetimes. I had patience. I really felt the difference after each rebirth. By the third lifetime, I finally began to itch for something else, so I left. Many of my people depart on their own like that. Some never return. These mountains go on and on, nearly spanning the continent. There are plenty of places to hide away. We’ve lost some of our best men and women to solitary living. Maybe they’re the smart ones.”
“Is that what you want to do?” Rachel asked.