Chasing the Prophecy
Page 65
“What if Maldor made a deal?” Rachel worried. “He likes bargains. He likes manipulation. What if he promised never to invade the jungle if she helped him crush us? What if the oracle lied to us in order to protect her people? She could have looked into the future to verify whether Maldor would keep his promise! She could have made a deal and been certain that Maldor would deliver! What if she sent Jason off on a quest for a nonexistent secret from a dead seer and sent Galloran to lead the last defenders of Lyrian to destruction?”
Ferrin gazed steadily at Rachel. His expression hinted at the thoughts whirling behind his eyes. “You could be right.”
“Or what if Maldor found a way to deliver a false prophecy to the oracle?” Rachel went on. “The torivors can get into our minds. I know that firsthand. What if they blurred her visions? She could have been sincere and still have misled us.”
“Again you could be right,” Ferrin conceded.
“Is it too late to turn back?” Rachel whispered.
“Not for us,” Ferrin said. “Not for Galloran, either, if he believed this theory. But if this theory is true, we would lose all hope. Unless we can prove the oracle misled us, I’m not sure we could ever convince Galloran to turn back.”
“Do you think I’m right?” Rachel asked.
Tark kept his eyes on the ground.
Ferrin shrugged. “There is no way to be certain. Your theory would explain our reckless offensive. It would explain seeking impossible information from a dead prophet. It certainly is the sort of deception Maldor would invent, using our hope against us, giving us reasons to keep trying that only make us fail faster. It fits. But I’m not sure we could ever prove it. And you very well might be wrong. It is all speculation.”
“Let’s face the facts,” Rachel said. “Which seems more likely? That the oracle of Mianamon somehow misled us? Or that our suicidal battle plan will be saved by some inspiring words from a prophet who died thousands of years ago?”
Ferrin chuckled. “Remember when I advised you to embrace the truth when facing hard choices?”
“Yes,” Rachel said.
“I’m afraid I created a monster.”
“Because I’m wrong?”
“Because you’ve discovered a possibility that I missed. And I’m having trouble explaining it away.”
“We should bring this to Galloran,” Tark said nervously.
Ferrin rubbed his eyes. “Should we? This doubt has the potential to destroy his faith. I know mine is already faltering. Without proof, I don’t believe our theory is certain enough to sway Galloran from his course. We might only undermine his confidence.”
“How could we get proof?” Rachel asked.
“The oracle is dead,” Ferrin said. “If she betrayed us, she would have taken that secret to her grave. If Maldor got to her, none of that communication would have been in writing. The emperor would have used torivors for something so sensitive. If the oracle was fooled, even she had no idea. In either scenario we would find no proof at Mianamon. Maldor keeps his deepest secrets to himself. Only he or the torivors could provide the evidence we would need.”
“What if I went to him?” Rachel asked dully. “What if I accepted his offer to study with him? I could try to find out if this is all another trick.”
“There will be no evidence to uncover,” Ferrin said. “It’s all in his mind.”
“Maybe I could get him to slip up,” Rachel said. “He can be very candid in private. Maybe he would think I had no way to warn anyone. Maybe he would gloat. Maybe I could somehow get inside his mind and find the truth. Maybe I could ask him questions and study his reactions. Or open myself to the torivors and search their thoughts. Maybe I could warn you guys in time. Maybe we could try to warn Jason.”
“Such a feat would be next to impossible,” Ferrin said. “Even if you were to succeed, I don’t see how you could get to Maldor in time to make any difference. Once this army crosses into the valley, we’ll have passed the point of no return.”
“So do we alert Galloran?” Tark asked.
“He is a very intelligent man,” Ferrin said. “Galloran may have already accepted that our tiny shred of hope might be based on bad information and therefore entirely unfounded. It might already be part of the measured risk that he is taking.”
“Had you thought this through already?” Rachel asked.
“Not to this extent,” Ferrin admitted. “And I am more skilled than most at sniffing out possible intrigues.”
“This is not just a risk Galloran is taking,” Tark said. “It is a risk all of Lyrian is taking along with him.”
Ferrin sighed. “I suppose it is our duty to make sure he has weighed this possibility.”
“I’ll second that,” Tark said.
“We might not be right,” Rachel fretted.
Ferrin began to fidget by repeatedly disconnecting his index finger and reattaching it. “A plausible theory is only a plausible theory. Possible is not the same as true. Heeding this conjecture could divert us from what was actually a valid prophecy.”
“But if we’re right?” Rachel pressed.
Ferrin looked away. “Then this war was over long ago.”
CHAPTER 18
SWORDS IN THE NIGHT
Nobody had come to wake Jason yet, but the commotion could not be ignored. Heavy footsteps outside his cabin combined with shouted exchanges on deck had him rolling out of bed and tugging on his boots. He recognized panic and dismay in some of the exclamations. Jason strapped on his sword, picked up his shield, and bolted from the room.
Outside his cabin Jason nearly collided with Corinne, who was still buckling her sword belt. “What is it?” she asked.
“Not sure,” Jason answered.
Drake appeared beside them. He looked grim. “Good, you’re up. We have an unwelcome visitor.”
“Who?” Jason asked.
“Come see.”
Corinne and Jason followed Drake up to the deck. The sails hung limp. The Valiant had been stuck in a calm since yesterday morning, with only the sweeps and the faint currents to nudge the ship along.
The upside was that the same calm would be hampering their pursuers. Three days ago they had made a clean escape from Windbreak Island, and they had not sighted an enemy ship since.
Except right now everyone was crowded to the starboard side of the deck, staring out at the water. Jason moved into position for a look. Corinne stayed beside him. She had not vomited since leaving Windbreak Island.
Ferrin gazed steadily at Rachel. His expression hinted at the thoughts whirling behind his eyes. “You could be right.”
“Or what if Maldor found a way to deliver a false prophecy to the oracle?” Rachel went on. “The torivors can get into our minds. I know that firsthand. What if they blurred her visions? She could have been sincere and still have misled us.”
“Again you could be right,” Ferrin conceded.
“Is it too late to turn back?” Rachel whispered.
“Not for us,” Ferrin said. “Not for Galloran, either, if he believed this theory. But if this theory is true, we would lose all hope. Unless we can prove the oracle misled us, I’m not sure we could ever convince Galloran to turn back.”
“Do you think I’m right?” Rachel asked.
Tark kept his eyes on the ground.
Ferrin shrugged. “There is no way to be certain. Your theory would explain our reckless offensive. It would explain seeking impossible information from a dead prophet. It certainly is the sort of deception Maldor would invent, using our hope against us, giving us reasons to keep trying that only make us fail faster. It fits. But I’m not sure we could ever prove it. And you very well might be wrong. It is all speculation.”
“Let’s face the facts,” Rachel said. “Which seems more likely? That the oracle of Mianamon somehow misled us? Or that our suicidal battle plan will be saved by some inspiring words from a prophet who died thousands of years ago?”
Ferrin chuckled. “Remember when I advised you to embrace the truth when facing hard choices?”
“Yes,” Rachel said.
“I’m afraid I created a monster.”
“Because I’m wrong?”
“Because you’ve discovered a possibility that I missed. And I’m having trouble explaining it away.”
“We should bring this to Galloran,” Tark said nervously.
Ferrin rubbed his eyes. “Should we? This doubt has the potential to destroy his faith. I know mine is already faltering. Without proof, I don’t believe our theory is certain enough to sway Galloran from his course. We might only undermine his confidence.”
“How could we get proof?” Rachel asked.
“The oracle is dead,” Ferrin said. “If she betrayed us, she would have taken that secret to her grave. If Maldor got to her, none of that communication would have been in writing. The emperor would have used torivors for something so sensitive. If the oracle was fooled, even she had no idea. In either scenario we would find no proof at Mianamon. Maldor keeps his deepest secrets to himself. Only he or the torivors could provide the evidence we would need.”
“What if I went to him?” Rachel asked dully. “What if I accepted his offer to study with him? I could try to find out if this is all another trick.”
“There will be no evidence to uncover,” Ferrin said. “It’s all in his mind.”
“Maybe I could get him to slip up,” Rachel said. “He can be very candid in private. Maybe he would think I had no way to warn anyone. Maybe he would gloat. Maybe I could somehow get inside his mind and find the truth. Maybe I could ask him questions and study his reactions. Or open myself to the torivors and search their thoughts. Maybe I could warn you guys in time. Maybe we could try to warn Jason.”
“Such a feat would be next to impossible,” Ferrin said. “Even if you were to succeed, I don’t see how you could get to Maldor in time to make any difference. Once this army crosses into the valley, we’ll have passed the point of no return.”
“So do we alert Galloran?” Tark asked.
“He is a very intelligent man,” Ferrin said. “Galloran may have already accepted that our tiny shred of hope might be based on bad information and therefore entirely unfounded. It might already be part of the measured risk that he is taking.”
“Had you thought this through already?” Rachel asked.
“Not to this extent,” Ferrin admitted. “And I am more skilled than most at sniffing out possible intrigues.”
“This is not just a risk Galloran is taking,” Tark said. “It is a risk all of Lyrian is taking along with him.”
Ferrin sighed. “I suppose it is our duty to make sure he has weighed this possibility.”
“I’ll second that,” Tark said.
“We might not be right,” Rachel fretted.
Ferrin began to fidget by repeatedly disconnecting his index finger and reattaching it. “A plausible theory is only a plausible theory. Possible is not the same as true. Heeding this conjecture could divert us from what was actually a valid prophecy.”
“But if we’re right?” Rachel pressed.
Ferrin looked away. “Then this war was over long ago.”
CHAPTER 18
SWORDS IN THE NIGHT
Nobody had come to wake Jason yet, but the commotion could not be ignored. Heavy footsteps outside his cabin combined with shouted exchanges on deck had him rolling out of bed and tugging on his boots. He recognized panic and dismay in some of the exclamations. Jason strapped on his sword, picked up his shield, and bolted from the room.
Outside his cabin Jason nearly collided with Corinne, who was still buckling her sword belt. “What is it?” she asked.
“Not sure,” Jason answered.
Drake appeared beside them. He looked grim. “Good, you’re up. We have an unwelcome visitor.”
“Who?” Jason asked.
“Come see.”
Corinne and Jason followed Drake up to the deck. The sails hung limp. The Valiant had been stuck in a calm since yesterday morning, with only the sweeps and the faint currents to nudge the ship along.
The upside was that the same calm would be hampering their pursuers. Three days ago they had made a clean escape from Windbreak Island, and they had not sighted an enemy ship since.
Except right now everyone was crowded to the starboard side of the deck, staring out at the water. Jason moved into position for a look. Corinne stayed beside him. She had not vomited since leaving Windbreak Island.
