Seeds of Rebellion
Page 4
“What’s that music, Mom?”
Jason glanced at the kid and then listened.
He heard a distant, basso melody, much like a tuba, but somehow richer. Jason’s hands squeezed the railing. How long had it been playing before he had noticed it? The resonant melody was gradually increasing in volume. He looked at the woman beside him.
“You hear that?”
The woman nodded, her brow furrowed. “Is it coming from the tank?”
“I think so.” Jason bit his lower lip. He could have elaborated that the music was originating from a separate reality through the hippopotamus.
Jason felt his heart hammering. Here was evidence. The gate was open. If he was ever really going to do this, the time had arrived. He would be foolish to expect a more obvious opportunity. He gripped the railing more tightly.
Did he really want to go? How would his family feel? He wasn’t much closer to his parents than he had ever been. They had made a real effort after his return, although the attention had mostly made him feel like a psych patient being handled with kid gloves. He appreciated the intent, and had tried to show it, but he and his parents had never really been on the same wavelength. Once the excitement of his return had faded, the same old patterns of life had resumed. Still, a second disappearance would certainly be hard on them. Poor Matt would be stunned.
This trip to Lyrian didn’t have to be permanent, though—he knew a way back. Sure, deadly enemies awaited him. There was a very real chance he would get killed and never make it home. But what he needed to accomplish was worth the risk. He had to let Galloran and Tark and the others know that the Word was a fraud. And he had to rescue Rachel.
Jason glanced back at the Monument to Human Stupidity, a glass case displaying items careless people had tossed into the hippo tank. If the hippo mauled him instead of gulping him into another world, maybe they could hang his corpse in there.
If he succeeded in being swallowed before the eyes of this woman and her son, what would his family and friends think? Surely they’d assume he was dead. They would probably decide he had succumbed to depression and lost his mind. How would people explain the hippo swallowing him whole? Though large, the animal did not look big enough for such a feat.
Then again, as long as he made it back to Lyrian, who cared what others thought? It might be a little harder to explain his reappearance next time, but he could stress about that later.
The volume of the music continued to increase, still just the deep notes of a single instrument. The placid hippo did not stir from the bottom of the tank. Jason rubbed his palms together. He looked over at the woman, who was leaning against the rail, attentive.
She met his gaze and then said, “Isn’t that peculiar?”
“Yep. I’m going to investigate.” Taking a deep breath, Jason flung himself over the railing and plunged into the water. He stroked down to the hippo, which remained motionless. Hesitantly, he touched him on the snout, receiving no reaction.
Jason surfaced. The woman was screaming and her son was crying. A few people were hustling over, attracted by the commotion. Last time the hippo had swallowed him spontaneously. How could a person coax a hippo into doing something like that?
Jason dove under again. He tried to slap the hippo, but could not get much force behind the underwater blow. He jabbed his fingers deep into the animal’s wide nostrils, and prodded at his eyes. The great head suddenly jerked to one side, making Jason flinch involuntarily. The head swung back and forth before becoming still again. Jason gave him a final poke in the nostril, then swam up for air.
Quite a crowd had gathered. The woman continued shrieking. “Get out of there!” a man shouted. “What’s the matter with you?”
Treading water and feeling deeply embarrassed, Jason realized how insane all of this must appear to bystanders. He had a feeling there would be more visits to the therapist in his future. The sluggish hippo evidently had no interest in him, and could not be antagonized. But Jason would try one more time.
Something brushed Jason’s leg. He glanced down. The hippo was rising rapidly from directly beneath him, jaws agape. As the bloated brown pachyderm broke the surface of the water around him, Jason was already mostly swallowed. Huge jaws clamped shut amid a chorus of horrified screams, abruptly terminating Jason’s view of the onlookers.
Sliding feetfirst down a slick, rubbery tunnel, Jason heard the screams recede as the volume of the low-pitched melody increased. All was dark until he came to a jarring halt, his legs protruding from a gap in a dying tree.
He lay inside the hollow trunk, staring up through the top at the stars, his clothes soaked. The deep, resonant melody continued.
Jason scooted out of the gap, his backpack making it awkward, and recognized the scene—the tall trees, the dense shrubs, the wide river. He was back in Lyrian.
He hurried to the riverbank. The night was balmy, so his wet clothes did not really bother him. A gibbous moon hung in the clear sky, illuminating the river. A small craft drifted on the dark water. A single figure stood on the humble raft, wrapped in an enormous horn.
“Tark?” Jason called in disbelief. “Tark!”
The music stopped. “Who’s there?” replied a gravelly voice.
“Jason.”
The figure on the raft stumbled. “Lord of Caberton?”
“Yes.”
“Are you … his shade?” The voice sounded awestruck.
“No, it’s really me. I’m back.” Jason could hardly believe it himself. “Come over here.”
The short, robust figure struggled to unburden himself of the cumbersome instrument. Once free of the sousalax, he sculled over to the bank, peering forward suspiciously. The raft bumped against the shore. Tark hesitated. “Come forward so I can see you better.”
Jason realized he had been standing in shadow. He stepped sideways into the moonlight.
“How can this be?” Tark gasped. “You were taken by the emperor.”
“I escaped to the Beyond. Now I’m back.”
Tark sprang from the raft and fell to his knees in the mud before Jason, hands clasped over his broad chest, tear tracks glinting on his cheeks in the moonlight. “My heart is going to rupture with joy,” he proclaimed. “How did you escape?”
Mildly stunned at the exuberant reception, it took Jason a moment to answer. “I had help. Where’s Rachel?”
“We parted ways,” Tark said. “A strategic move, suggested by Drake.”
“Drake? Was this before or after he freed me on the road to Felrook?”
Jason glanced at the kid and then listened.
He heard a distant, basso melody, much like a tuba, but somehow richer. Jason’s hands squeezed the railing. How long had it been playing before he had noticed it? The resonant melody was gradually increasing in volume. He looked at the woman beside him.
“You hear that?”
The woman nodded, her brow furrowed. “Is it coming from the tank?”
“I think so.” Jason bit his lower lip. He could have elaborated that the music was originating from a separate reality through the hippopotamus.
Jason felt his heart hammering. Here was evidence. The gate was open. If he was ever really going to do this, the time had arrived. He would be foolish to expect a more obvious opportunity. He gripped the railing more tightly.
Did he really want to go? How would his family feel? He wasn’t much closer to his parents than he had ever been. They had made a real effort after his return, although the attention had mostly made him feel like a psych patient being handled with kid gloves. He appreciated the intent, and had tried to show it, but he and his parents had never really been on the same wavelength. Once the excitement of his return had faded, the same old patterns of life had resumed. Still, a second disappearance would certainly be hard on them. Poor Matt would be stunned.
This trip to Lyrian didn’t have to be permanent, though—he knew a way back. Sure, deadly enemies awaited him. There was a very real chance he would get killed and never make it home. But what he needed to accomplish was worth the risk. He had to let Galloran and Tark and the others know that the Word was a fraud. And he had to rescue Rachel.
Jason glanced back at the Monument to Human Stupidity, a glass case displaying items careless people had tossed into the hippo tank. If the hippo mauled him instead of gulping him into another world, maybe they could hang his corpse in there.
If he succeeded in being swallowed before the eyes of this woman and her son, what would his family and friends think? Surely they’d assume he was dead. They would probably decide he had succumbed to depression and lost his mind. How would people explain the hippo swallowing him whole? Though large, the animal did not look big enough for such a feat.
Then again, as long as he made it back to Lyrian, who cared what others thought? It might be a little harder to explain his reappearance next time, but he could stress about that later.
The volume of the music continued to increase, still just the deep notes of a single instrument. The placid hippo did not stir from the bottom of the tank. Jason rubbed his palms together. He looked over at the woman, who was leaning against the rail, attentive.
She met his gaze and then said, “Isn’t that peculiar?”
“Yep. I’m going to investigate.” Taking a deep breath, Jason flung himself over the railing and plunged into the water. He stroked down to the hippo, which remained motionless. Hesitantly, he touched him on the snout, receiving no reaction.
Jason surfaced. The woman was screaming and her son was crying. A few people were hustling over, attracted by the commotion. Last time the hippo had swallowed him spontaneously. How could a person coax a hippo into doing something like that?
Jason dove under again. He tried to slap the hippo, but could not get much force behind the underwater blow. He jabbed his fingers deep into the animal’s wide nostrils, and prodded at his eyes. The great head suddenly jerked to one side, making Jason flinch involuntarily. The head swung back and forth before becoming still again. Jason gave him a final poke in the nostril, then swam up for air.
Quite a crowd had gathered. The woman continued shrieking. “Get out of there!” a man shouted. “What’s the matter with you?”
Treading water and feeling deeply embarrassed, Jason realized how insane all of this must appear to bystanders. He had a feeling there would be more visits to the therapist in his future. The sluggish hippo evidently had no interest in him, and could not be antagonized. But Jason would try one more time.
Something brushed Jason’s leg. He glanced down. The hippo was rising rapidly from directly beneath him, jaws agape. As the bloated brown pachyderm broke the surface of the water around him, Jason was already mostly swallowed. Huge jaws clamped shut amid a chorus of horrified screams, abruptly terminating Jason’s view of the onlookers.
Sliding feetfirst down a slick, rubbery tunnel, Jason heard the screams recede as the volume of the low-pitched melody increased. All was dark until he came to a jarring halt, his legs protruding from a gap in a dying tree.
He lay inside the hollow trunk, staring up through the top at the stars, his clothes soaked. The deep, resonant melody continued.
Jason scooted out of the gap, his backpack making it awkward, and recognized the scene—the tall trees, the dense shrubs, the wide river. He was back in Lyrian.
He hurried to the riverbank. The night was balmy, so his wet clothes did not really bother him. A gibbous moon hung in the clear sky, illuminating the river. A small craft drifted on the dark water. A single figure stood on the humble raft, wrapped in an enormous horn.
“Tark?” Jason called in disbelief. “Tark!”
The music stopped. “Who’s there?” replied a gravelly voice.
“Jason.”
The figure on the raft stumbled. “Lord of Caberton?”
“Yes.”
“Are you … his shade?” The voice sounded awestruck.
“No, it’s really me. I’m back.” Jason could hardly believe it himself. “Come over here.”
The short, robust figure struggled to unburden himself of the cumbersome instrument. Once free of the sousalax, he sculled over to the bank, peering forward suspiciously. The raft bumped against the shore. Tark hesitated. “Come forward so I can see you better.”
Jason realized he had been standing in shadow. He stepped sideways into the moonlight.
“How can this be?” Tark gasped. “You were taken by the emperor.”
“I escaped to the Beyond. Now I’m back.”
Tark sprang from the raft and fell to his knees in the mud before Jason, hands clasped over his broad chest, tear tracks glinting on his cheeks in the moonlight. “My heart is going to rupture with joy,” he proclaimed. “How did you escape?”
Mildly stunned at the exuberant reception, it took Jason a moment to answer. “I had help. Where’s Rachel?”
“We parted ways,” Tark said. “A strategic move, suggested by Drake.”
“Drake? Was this before or after he freed me on the road to Felrook?”
