CHAPTER 16 
CHAPTER 16 Doing his best to count one second at a time, Jason had reached two hundred and eighteen before Tark surfaced. Since Jason had reached one hundred and seventy during the previous dive, he was concerned but not yet panicked. Tark had proven that he could hold his breath for a very long time.
“Look what I found,” Tark said, breathing deeply but not desperately, one hand clutching the side of the skiff while the other held up a crystal globe the size of a soccer ball.
“Is that orantium?” Rachel asked.
“Looks like it,” Tark replied.
“It’s huge,” Jason said.
“How huge?” Galloran asked.
“The rock inside is bigger than my fist,” Jason said.
Galloran chuckled with boyish excitement. “A gatecrasher. None are supposed to remain. I have certainly never seen one. They were intended to bombard heavy fortifications. Did you see any more?”
“At least twenty,” Tark replied. “Along with plenty of regular globes, all crowded into a deep chamber.”
“Twenty gatecrashers,” Galloran enthused. “This surpasses my most optimistic expectations.”
“All right,” Ferrin huffed, “I’ll help. But if I catch some horrible disease, I’ll be coughing on all of you.”
“I can get them,” Tark said. “The water isn’t cold. And the globes weigh little underwater. They almost float. I could keep this up for hours.”
Ferrin pulled off his nose and handed it to Jason. “I’ve felt guilty this entire time. This last dive kept you under for too long.”
“It’s a deep chamber,” Tark said, “but I can reach it.”
“It isn’t fair for the one of us who can breathe underwater to relax while you do dangerous work. A find like those gatecrashers pushes me over the edge. I’ll make sure the deepest recesses are investigated. Jason, don’t let the fabric completely block my breathing.” He stepped off the skiff.
“I’m not sure how much more we can carry,” Jason said. The skiff and the canoe were both already heavily laden with orantium spheres. They had transferred all the globes from the island of stone slabs, and Tark had already salvaged dozens more from below the water.
“Something tells me we could make room for more gatecrashers,” Ferrin said, his face unsightly without a nose. He glanced at Tark. “Show me where to go.”
The displacer and Tark both vanished below the murky surface, using the last of the luminous kelp to light their way. The glowing seaweed passed out of sight before long.
Jason, Rachel, Dorsio, and Galloran waited together on the skiff. Aram, still small, lay sleeping in the bow.
“Look!” Rachel said.
Jason turned and found Drake and Nedwin rowing through the gap in the wall. They piloted a vessel not quite as large as the skiff, but significantly bigger than the canoe. The young woman who accompanied them had long blond hair. Like the others, her face was covered with fabric, but her expressive green eyes sparkled with excitement.
“Father!” Corinne cried.
A quiet sob shook Galloran before he pulled the fabric from his face and called out, “Corinne?”
“Your daughter lives!” Nedwin exclaimed triumphantly.
Galloran’s smile crinkled the exposed portions of his bearded face into happy lines. He pressed a hand to his chest. Drake and Nedwin swiftly rowed nearer.
Corinne leaped lightly to the skiff. She wore brown traveling clothes and notably feminine boots. A sword hung from her trim waist in a long sheath. Jason was surprised to find she was not much shorter than him. As she pulled the fabric from her face to greet her father with a kiss, Jason noticed generous lips, flawless skin, and elegantly sculpted features. She looked to be in her late teens, and abruptly struck him as the most beautiful girl he had ever seen!
Tark and Ferrin surfaced, each holding a pair of large orantium globes.
“Who’s this?” Ferrin asked. “How long were we under?”
“They found Corinne,” Rachel supplied.
“Why the blindfold?” Corinne asked Galloran. “What happened to your eyes?”
“I lost my sight,” he replied.
“Oh no!”
“It was long ago. Tell me what happened to your great-aunt.”
“I don’t recall the specifics,” Corinne said. “I wrote myself a note that said ‘natural causes.’ You’ll have to check my other set of memories for specifics.” She slipped a hand into the satchel that hung from her shoulder and retrieved a round mushroom. When she squeezed gently, spores the color of brown mustard puffed out. Corinne inhaled deliberately.
Even with the fabric over his nose and mouth, Jason added the protection of his hand. He knew the spores would block out all memories except those experienced while breathing the mushroom gas.
“Why can’t I see?” Galloran asked in alarm, pulling the blindfold from his empty eye sockets. Jason flinched at the sight. “What has happened to my voice? Where am I?”
“Galloran!” Corinne exclaimed, taking one of his hands.
“Is that you, Corinne?”
“Yes. I’m away from the tree! You sent two men to free me. Drake and Nedwin. You’ve been blinded since we last met. You look older.”
“So it seems. You’ve grown. You sound like a woman.” Galloran grimaced. “How long has it been?”
“Galloran,” Jason said. “You may want to cover your face. The gas from the mushrooms is messing up your memories.”
“Who speaks?” Galloran challenged, his hand straying to the hilt of his sword.
“I’m a friend,” Jason replied. “We’re traveling together in the swamp to rescue Corinne.”
“Lord Jason!” Corinne greeted warmly, her gaze alighting on him. “Thank you for coming. The others told me the Word did not work.”
“What?” Galloran gasped. “The Word failed?”
“You’ll feel less confused if you cover your face,” Corinne insisted.
Nodding he pulled the fabric into place and backed away. “What happened to my blindfold?” he asked after a moment, pulling it back into place.
“The spores addled you,” Drake said.
“What news of the Pythoness?” Galloran asked.
Corinne quietly recited how her mother had passed away, clutching her chest. Jason thought Corinne seemed a little more soft-spoken in her tree persona. She didn’t seem to realize that Galloran was her father. Inside the tree she had apparently believed that the Pythoness was her mother and Galloran a friend.
“Where did the new boat come from?” Jason asked.
“Servants of Maldor,” Corinne replied. “Four strangers arrived a few days ago. In my youth, Galloran, you taught me to recognize the armor worn by conscriptors, and three of my visitors were outfitted as you had described. The fourth was a displacer. They entered the tree bearing weapons, but forgot their purpose. I could only assume they had come to slay me. I was a perfect hostess. I fed them. They undressed and went to bed. I poisoned them while they slept.”
“Well done,” Galloran said.
“There were no corpses,” Drake said. “She had dumped them in the swamp. I’m relieved that she believed we were there to help her.”
“I was nervous,” Corinne admitted. “But you bore the proper tokens.”
“Good girl,” Galloran said. “I’m sorry you had to face such a grim predicament, but I’m proud that you did what was necessary. You still have the sword?”
Corinne drew a magnificent blade, so sleek and shiny that it looked too valuable to actually use.
“It’s just like yours,” Rachel said to Galloran.
“Great prongs of Dendalus!” Ferrin gasped. His eyes flicked to Corinne and Rachel. “Pardon the expression. Is that sword what I think it is?”
Galloran unsheathed his weapon. “The companion blade to mine.”
“They’re really torivorian?” Ferrin breathed, his hesitant voice full of wonder.
“Wait,” Jason said. “Torivorian? As in made by lurkers?”
“The dueling weapons of the torivor,” Galloran confirmed.
“The lurker who followed me didn’t carry a sword,” Jason said.
Ferrin snorted. “If your lurker had a sword, you wouldn’t be here.”
“Why not?”
“Maldor can send out lurkers in two ways,” Ferrin explained. “To scout or to duel. He very rarely sends them at all, and much less often to duel, because he can only send each torivor to duel once. After the duel is accomplished, the torivor goes free.”
“The torivor appears bearing a pair of swords,” Galloran said. “Most weapons could not scratch a lurker, but when a torivor comes to duel, it brings a sword that can.”
“It is the only time a torivor will initiate an attack,” Ferrin said. “Otherwise they simply retaliate. But if you have the swords, Galloran …”
“He bested a torivor,” Nedwin bragged.
“What?” Jason exclaimed. “You killed a lurker in a duel?”
“It required all of my skill at the height of my strength,” Galloran said. “Maldor meant to remove me.”
“I knew that, historically, lurkers had been sent out to dispatch enemies on occasion,” Ferrin said in awe, “but I have never heard a whisper of a torivor losing.”
“There were few witnesses,” Galloran replied.
“When did this happen?” Ferrin asked.
“Years ago, not too long before I was taken. It was the fight of my life.”
“You have long been reputed as the finest swordsman in Lyrian,” Drake said. “But word of this deed never got out. You should be renowned as the greatest swordsman of all time.”
Galloran waved a dismissive hand, sheathing his sword. “I am no longer the same man. Boasts of past deeds will defeat no new enemies. Besides, I may have gotten lucky.”
Ferrin laughed. “Lucky? Against a lurker? Preposterous. Absent the swords, I wouldn’t believe your victory possible. But the weapons are unmistakable.”
“Are you holding a gatecrasher?” Drake asked Ferrin.
“Two, actually,” he replied, displaying them.
“It’s a day for the unbelievable,” Drake said. Glancing around furtively, he lowered his voice. “What of the menace?”
“The menace?” Rachel asked.
“The guardian of the Drowned City,” Drake explained. “My people venture into the Sunken Lands on occasion, but never here. You negotiated with it?”
“They destroyed it,” Jason said.
Drake’s jaw dropped.
“Your menace was the wizard Orruck,” Galloran explained. “The word Jason and Rachel obtained had the power to unmake him.”
“We trusted the message you left back at the watchtowers,” Drake said, “but I did not imagine that you had actually vanquished the menace. To any of my people, that feat will sound even less likely than outdueling a torivor.”
“Congratulate Rachel,” Galloran said. “She uttered the Word just in time to preserve our lives.”
“After Galloran drew Orruck’s attention,” Rachel said modestly. “I had the easy part.”
“Corinne,” Galloran said. “Put aside the mushroom.”
She sheathed her sword and returned the fungus to the satchel. Corinne blinked rapidly and rubbed her forehead.
“Are you back?” Galloran asked.
“Yes,” she replied.
“Have you spent sufficient time outside of the tree?” Galloran asked.
“A few hours a day,” Corinne replied. “Just as we discussed. Talking with my great-aunt. Reading. Performing exercises with my sword. Waiting.” There was an edge of bitterness to the final word.
“I’m so sorry,” Galloran said. “I didn’t mean to fail. I left you in the safest place I felt I could take you. Mianamon would have been preferable, but there was war in the south at the time. I retrieved you as soon as I was able.”
“I understand,” Corinne said. Her eyes swept over the group. “Thank you all for coming for me.”
“You have been through an ordeal,” Galloran said. “The years in hiding were for your good, but it was nonetheless a dismal prison.”
“It was hardest after Great-Aunt Madeline died. The solitude felt endless. I would write myself notes from inside the tree. I’m ready to start living. My only memories of an actual life are the blurry recollections of childhood. All I have besides that is what happened day after day on a short stretch of muddy island.”
“I’ll do my best to make it up to you,” Galloran promised. “Sadly, for the present, we have led you from solitude into peril. But it could not be avoided. Maldor is moving against the guardians of the syllables. Already some have perished. You would not have thwarted assassination attempts forever.”
“What now?” Drake inquired.
“We load up as much orantium as we can reasonably carry,” Galloran said. “We’ll spend the night here. The day is waning, and the Drowned City is the last place anyone would look for us. It should take some time for the denizens of the swamp to realize Orruck is gone. Corinne’s mushrooms should also help dissuade bothersome visitors. Then, with the first light of dawn, we’ll hurry away from the Sunken Lands.”
Standing on muddy ground at the edge of the swamp, Jason peered northward at an imposing wall of mountains. A progression of rugged plateaus climbed from the perimeter of the Sunken Lands to eventually surge skyward in a magnificent upheaval of stone. Somewhere among those sheer faces and lofty crags, an unseen pass granted access to the western gate of the Seven Vales. In the foreground, a lone hawk wheeled and plunged, illuminated by the setting sun.
Behind and above Jason, a branch snapped. Turning, he looked up to where Nedwin, Ferrin, and Drake advanced along a thick bough, returning from hiding the boats and their cargo of orantium. Thanks to the puffball mushrooms, their trek from the Drowned City to the outskirts of the swamp had been relatively uneventful. Stashing the boats in the swamp had been the last unfinished detail.
Ferrin held a branch that had broken off in his hand. He released it, and the rotten limb fell to the water, sending ripples across the surface scum. Nedwin reached the top of a nearby tree and started down. Drake and Ferrin followed.
Jason, Rachel, Corinne, Tark, and little Aram met them at the bottom of the tree. “Everything go all right?” Jason asked.
“No complications,” Drake reported.
“Unless you count Nedwin using the vines to attempt some dangerous swings,” Ferrin muttered.
“I only fell twice,” Nedwin said. “Water is forgiving.”
The group walked over to Dorsio and Galloran, who sat on opposite sides of a modest pile of orantium globes. Most were the regular sort, no larger than baseballs, but three were the larger gatecrashers.
“We’re all assembled?” Galloran checked.
“Yes, sire,” Nedwin replied.
“Who gets to carry the big ones?” Rachel asked.
Galloran laid a hand on one of the larger globes. “Dorsio will hold them. The Amar Kabal are a reclusive people. Once I was welcome in their land. But times have changed. Should all else fail, I hope to bribe our way in. In these perilous times, I can think of no currency more valuable than orantium.”
“They’ll admit you without a gift,” Drake said firmly. “I don’t believe my people hold any living human in higher regard.”
“I hope you’re right,” Galloran responded. “There are influential voices among your people who may not appreciate what my presence could represent in these uncertain times. The boats are hidden?”
“They’re well disguised on an obscure little island,” Drake said.
“Further guarded by the puffball mushrooms,” Ferrin added.
“Then we should start our journey,” Galloran said. “The sooner we are behind West Gate, the sooner we can rest. I would be surprised if Maldor did not try to apprehend us between here and there. By now he should have anticipated the Seven Vales as our most likely destination.”
“The territory between the Sunken Lands and our gates remains uninhabited by treaty,” Drake said. “Imperial troops are only supposed to enter with our permission.”
“Maldor understands the stakes,” Galloran argued. “By heading us off, he can suppress a possible rebellion. He has reason to expect that the Amar Kabal won’t risk a sortie to enforce the treaty.”
“There was a day when he wouldn’t have chanced it,” Drake murmured darkly.
“Your people have grown even more withdrawn while you’ve been absent,” Galloran said. “They refuse to risk hostilities with Felrook. Their emphasis has been to fortify the Vales for a defensive stand. They display little interest in events beyond their gates.”
Drake frowned. “I won’t be much use in persuading them otherwise. I never expected to return. I may find myself even less welcome than Ferrin. By accepting the invitation to Harthenham, I shamed my people. I expect they will vote to exile me.”
“If so, you will be in good company,” Galloran said. “The finest seedman I know is an exile.”
“I don’t need their approval,” Drake said. “I just wish I were in a better position to advocate your cause.”
“First, we need to get there,” Galloran observed. “No sign of the horses?”
“I’ve been calling,” Rachel said. “I’ll keep trying.”
“I know many routes from here to West Gate,” Drake said. “By foot or by horse, with a little caution we should be able to cross unobserved.”
Aram came clinking over to join the group. He had slipped off to transform as the sun set, and now wore his sword, cloak, and armor.
Galloran turned to him, having heard his approach. “How are you feeling, Aram?”
“Good as new,” he said, rubbing the corkscrew bruise, which had faded slightly, going greenish along the edges. “I won’t slow us down tonight. But without horses, my gear could pose a problem by morning.”
“We carried the sword and mail through the marsh,” Tark pointed out.
“For which I’m grateful,” Aram said. “But speed was not essential there.”
“We’ll manage,” Tark vowed stoutly. “I’ll lug the sword myself.”
“I’ll see to your armor,” Ferrin said. “I don’t want to leave you any excuses for not protecting our hides.”
“It’s appreciated,” Aram said. “I would make my way to the gate at my own pace before I would leave them.”
Galloran arose. “When it comes to hampering our speed while traveling afoot, I will be our biggest liability. We had best not tarry. Drake will lead the way. Ferrin and Nedwin will assist with scouting. I’m afraid there is no rest for the weary. Let’s cover as much ground as possible by sunrise.”