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A World Without Heroes

Page 68

   


“Perfect timing,” Ferrin said. “Rachel can have my food.” He ordered another meal.
“I won’t take your food,” Rachel said once the barmaid left.
“If you ignore the meal, it will get cold and stale. Eat,” Ferrin insisted. “While you’ve been busy, I’ve been resting. So tell me, Rachel, have you married a prince and become the future queen of Kadara?”
“My time in Trensicourt wasn’t quite as interesting as Jason’s,” she said. “But it was stressful enough that I’m relieved to get away.”
“Leave city life to the masochists,” Ferrin said, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s the open road for us!”
CHAPTER 16
WHITELAKE
On their second afternoon after leaving the Stumbling Stag, Rachel stared out the coach window, trying to ignore the headache all the jerking and jouncing had created. They had reached rocky country with tall trees, steep hills, and rushing streams, and had not passed through a town all day.
She glanced over at Jason, who was trying ineffectively to nap. If he couldn’t sleep, she knew it was a rough ride. What a funny guy. At first he hadn’t struck her as the sharpest knife in the drawer, but she was starting to realize she could have gotten trapped in a parallel world with somebody much worse. She could hardly believe he had managed to become chancellor. Had he asked her the same question, she might have topped him. “Squirreled” had ten letters, although some people argued it wasn’t a single syllable.
Her gaze shifted to Ferrin. The displacer had been their best find so far. He was the perfect guide—knowledgeable, skillful, and well traveled. Plus he was funny and not bad-looking. He acted so grateful for their friendship it made her furious at the rest of Lyrian for discriminating against his kind.
He noticed her looking at him. “The farther we get from Trensicourt, the less we want this coach,” he said, speaking loud enough to be heard over the clatter of their motion.
“We should start walking before my teeth rattle out of my head,” Jason replied.
“I warned you we’re heading into remote country,” Ferrin reminded him. “The roads will only get worse, and the inhabitants less lawful. We’ve passed beyond the orderly kingdom of Trensicourt. This is a wild territory. Without an armed escort our coach will inevitably draw bandits. Out here a smart man wears a hard face and conceals his wealth.”
“Sounds delightful,” Rachel said.
“I’d prefer to avoid the town of Whitelake,” Ferrin said. “It is no place for a pretty girl. The communities out in the wildlands are full of trappers, hunters, traders, and miners. Not to mention gamblers and outlaws. Many of them will take advantage of a stranger, given the opportunity.”
“When do we ditch the coach?” Jason asked.
Pulling aside the curtains, Ferrin leaned out the window. “Before long we’ll reach a trail that will lead us to the lake. It won’t accommodate the coach, but the walk should require less than a day.”
“How steep is the climb?” Jason asked.
“Nothing perilous,” Ferrin assured him. “People stay away from Whitelake because it’s cursed, not because of the ascent.”
“Cursed?” Rachel asked.
“Supposedly the lake is bewitched,” Ferrin said. “Even the hardy folk of the wildlands keep their distance, which should prevent us from meeting much interference.”
“We need to get to the island in the middle of the lake,” Jason said.
“The island?” Ferrin exclaimed. “Why? Are you on a tour of the most dangerous and inaccessible places in all the land?”
“What makes you say that?” Rachel asked.
“Nothing floats on Whitelake. Not boats, not insects, not dust. Certainly not people. Everything sinks. Nobody knows how deep it is. Folks in town claim it goes down to the center of the world.”
“But you’ve never actually seen the lake?” Jason checked. “No,” Ferrin responded. “You think people might be exaggerating?”
“Only one way to find out,” Jason said.
Ferrin kept peering out the window. Half an hour later, pulling up the hood of his cloak, he called for the driver to halt. After they climbed down and collected their gear, Jason told the driver to return to Trensicourt.
“Are you certain, my lord?” the driver asked, eyes darting to Ferrin’s hooded form. “Begging your pardon, this is far from the destination I anticipated, an uncivilized stretch of wilderness where you might come to harm.”
Rachel had not heard the driver utter a complaint as Jason had issued prior instructions. Evidently, the man had reached his limit.
“I’m sure, Evan,” Jason said. “I need to take a few detours before I go where Duke Dolan probably told you I was heading.”
With practiced skill Evan produced a crossbow and pointed it at Ferrin. “If this man is trying to coerce you, I can take care of him, my lord.”
“No, Evan, he’s a friend,” Jason assured the coachman. “Thanks for your concern, but I’m really here on purpose. You can tell the regent that I’m just taking care of some unfinished business.”
Evan lowered the weapon. “Very well. Safe journey, my lord.”
“You too, Evan,” Jason said.
The driver flicked the reins, and the coach rumbled forward.
“How is he going to turn the coach around?” Rachel asked. The road looked much too narrow.
“He’ll forge ahead until he finds a clearing,” Ferrin said. “Come, we should get away from the road before nightfall.”
The next morning, from a craggy hilltop, Ferrin pointed out the town of Whitelake, a rough-hewn settlement of log structures a few miles from the base of a squat, conical mountain. Golden-brown prairie land surrounded the town, beyond which forested hills and ridges continued into the distance.
“Where is the lake?” Jason asked.
“Atop the mount,” Ferrin said.
“It looks like a squashed volcano,” Jason said.
Ferrin rubbed his chin. “Volcanic activity might help explain tales of an unnatural lake.”
They descended the hill and started across the open, grassy plain separating them from the mount. Rachel noticed that Ferrin kept checking behind them.
“Think we’re being followed?” Rachel asked.
“Almost certainly,” Ferrin said. “It’s a single person, staying well back, I’ve half glimpsed him a few times. He might just be a hunter watching to ensure we leave his territory alone. Maybe he’ll veer off now that we’ve left the forest.”