A World Without Heroes - Brandon Mull [114]
Rachel sat down near the head. “I don’t look forward to running back across the lake.”
“I often wonder how many have died trying to cross it. In all my years here only four men have ever found me. I have dwelled here for decades. Although I was getting old when I came here, displacers age more slowly than other men and have hardier constitutions. Would you feed me some moss before you go?”
Rachel moved around the room, ripping up moss. When she squeezed it, a sticky fluid oozed out. She fed some to Malar.
“You should eat some,” Malar said. “This stuff is full of energy. It will help in your dash over the lake.”
Rachel smelled it. The moss had no scent, unless it was faintly like grass clippings. She tasted some. It was almost unbearably bland, and it triggered her gag reflex.
The head chuckled. “I wish I could say I have developed a taste for the stuff. All I can profess is a tolerance.”
Rachel forced herself to eat more. She did not want to sink into the hot lake for lack of energy because she was a picky eater.
“Good girl,” Malar encouraged.
Finally she ingested a good portion of the bland moss.
“Give yourself an hour or two,” Malar recommended. “That is when your energy should peak. Have some more water. Don’t drink any during the last thirty minutes before you run. Before you go, soak your shirt and hair. It will help you stay cool. And run to the shore to the east, right across from where you came in. It is closest, though not by much.”
Rachel nodded. She drank more water from her cupped hand. Then she lay down and fell asleep.
She awoke with the head yelling. “Lady Rachel! Lady Rachel! Wake up!”
Rachel sat up with a start, squinting and rubbing her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It has been over two hours. You should probably get started.”
Rachel stood and began her stretching routine. Afterward she submerged her head in the water, and came up sputtering and shivering. Then she soaked her clothes. Goose pimples stood out on her arms. “Hard to believe I will be hot in a couple of minutes.”
“Believe it.”
“I guess this is good-bye,” Rachel said. “Do you want me to bring you with me? Get you out of here?”
“I must remain to protect my syllable,” Malar said. “Powerful spells guard this chamber.”
“Thank you for your help. Any parting advice?”
“Be firm with your displacer. We can be a slippery breed.”
“See you later.”
“I doubt it. May you prosper in your quest. Safe journey.”
“Thanks, Malar. Safe . . . moss eating.”
CHAPTER 17
JASHER
Here she comes,” Ferrin announced, rising to his feet and brushing dirt from his pants.
Jason looked up and saw a tiny figure scrambling down the rock pile toward the lake. Relief replaced anxiety. He had felt horrible when Rachel had tumbled at the end of her run, and then as he’d watched her motionless form on the rocky shore of the remote island. Finally she had arisen, disappearing into a cleft in the rocks. He and Ferrin had moved over to the side of the lake opposite the cleft Rachel had entered, but hours had dragged past without sight of her. Jason had begun to lose hope she would ever emerge.
When Rachel reached the lake, she started jogging across. The heat in the air distorted her miniature form.
“She’s coming right at us,” Jason said. “Should we go try to help her? Maybe carry her?”
“We might do more harm than good,” Ferrin said. “One clumsy move and we all sink into the lake together. Hopefully, Rachel has recovered enough from her other run to make it back unaided.”
Jason watched Rachel intently, determined to rush to her aid if she started to falter. She kept a solid pace, and he gradually relaxed as she drew nearer to the shore. Her clothes and hair were drenched, her face was flushed, and she squinted with exertion, but her strides remained firm as she jogged off the lake and slumped to her knees, coughing violently.
“Are you all right?” Jason asked. “What can I do?”
“Just give me a second,” she gasped, rising and walking with her hands laced