A World Without Heroes - Brandon Mull [125]
“The second syllable is in a place called the Temple of Mianamon,” Rachel said.
Jasher grinned. “Then we know our destination after the Sunken Lands. I know of the Prophetess of Mianamon, but have never visited her temple. It lies deep in the southern jungles, beyond the limits of civilization. Let us hope the Pythoness can enlighten you. They say she has the true gift of prescience.”
Jason scratched with his fingernail at a piece of meat in his teeth left over from dinner. It had wedged in there tightly.
“How did you two come to oppose Maldor?” Jasher inquired. “Galloran led me to understand you are Beyonders.”
Jason and Rachel took turns explaining how they came to Lyrian, and how they crossed paths at Galloran’s ruined castle.
“In the end,” Jason summarized, “Galloran encouraged us to pursue the Word. He basically challenged us to be heroes. With Maldor already after me I’m not sure I had any other choice.”
“Do not dishonor your involvement,” Jasher chided. “For each of us destiny is a blend of potential, circumstances, and choices. You could flee and hide. You could bargain with Maldor. You have chosen a heroic path. Walk it without apology.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Jason admitted. “For what it’s worth, I think I’ve finally really accepted the challenge.”
“Me too,” Rachel agreed.
“You have enjoyed much success,” Jasher said. “Surely Maldor has offered you attractive alternatives by now.”
“I got invited to Harthenham,” Jason said.
“Ferrin hinted he might be able to help us get home,” Rachel added.
“Yet here you are, toiling in the wilderness,” Jasher emphasized. “The two of you picked the right road, even though it is the most difficult. This is the essence of heroism.”
“You would know,” Rachel said. “You walked away from your people to do what you felt was right.”
“I have lived many lives,” Jasher said. “I know myself. I could never have found peace while ignoring the crime against my brother.”
“How far to the Sunken Lands?” Jason asked.
“This is rugged country,” Jasher said, looking to the northeast. “The outskirts lie more than a week away. The contours of the land cause water to collect and stagnate there in a vast swamp, a festering breeding ground for foulness and slime. During a certain season the Sunken Lands become inaccessible due to rampant disease spread by impenetrable clouds of biting insects. This time of year we should survive if we take the proper precautions.”
“So we’d better enjoy the ride in the woods while we can,” Rachel said.
Jasher nodded. “The Sunken Lands will not be pleasant.”
Traveling with Jasher proved simple. He gathered nuts and berries and supplemented their meals with fish and fowl. After two days of circuitous wandering to confuse pursuers, he began improvising easy routes across the gentlest available terrain, occasionally finding secluded paths to follow. Sometimes on high ground he climbed a tree to get his bearings or to check for enemies, but the days passed without hardship.
By their fifth day traveling together their path through the hilly wilderness trended down more than up. Early on the eighth day, from a hilltop, they glimpsed hazy, green lowlands to the north. Late on the ninth day, beside a rushing spring, Jasher informed them that they were filling their water skins for the last time before they left the Sunken Lands.
The next day Jasher left the horses on long tethers, and they proceeded on foot. He explained that the upcoming terrain was unsuitable for horses.
After leaving the horses, as predicted the ground became boggy and the air more humid. Jason’s boots squelched in clinging muck so often he eventually ceased trying to avoid it. Persistent rafts of mud on his soles added weight to his strides and sometimes made it feel like he was wearing snowshoes.
As they progressed, Jason, Rachel, and Jasher all selected long walking sticks. Several times they were forced to double back because of quicksand or impassable mires.
Evening had fallen when Jasher paused beside a pool where a cluster of large violet flowers flourished. The striking