A World Without Heroes - Brandon Mull [131]
“We’ve never met.” Corinne took his hand and led him to sit in a second rocking chair beside hers. “Are you hungry?” she asked.
Jason thought about this. “Yes.”
She walked to a section of the wall covered with crumbly white cheese, broke off a handful, set it on a wooden plate, and handed the food to Jason. Then she went to a wooden spigot protruding from a different portion of the wall and turned it to fill a crude wooden cup. She brought the cup to Jason. It held dark brown syrup.
Jason found that the cheese had a powerful taste, sharp and persistent. The sap tasted semisweet and very rich.
“Thank you,” Jason said.
“My pleasure,” Corinne replied. “I rarely entertain company.”
“But you’re so pretty,” he said, surprising himself with his candor. He fleetingly wondered if he had brain damage.
She averted her eyes. “Do you think so?”
“Definitely.”
“Thank you.” Some color came into her cheeks. “Let me fetch you a drink.”
She dipped another wooden cup into a deep basin set against the wall and brought it back full of water. Jason drained it. He looked around. Clusters of spherical fungi clung to the walls of the tree, each with a tiny hole in the top. They grew thicker higher up, out of reach, ranging in size from golf balls to softballs. He also observed a big ironbound chest in one corner of the room.
“I need to conduct a test,” Corinne told him. “It should help you remember why you came here. Would you mind if I slip this over your head?” She produced a handful of black, gauzy material.
“It won’t hurt me?” Jason checked.
“No,” she said. “It might help you remember.”
“Sure, I guess.”
She pulled the fine black mesh over his head. The material fit snugly and made him work harder to breathe. He could see almost nothing. His thoughts returned to his mysterious identity. And suddenly he remembered. “I’m Jason!” he exclaimed.
“Why have you come here?” a female voice asked from behind him. He felt a knife at his throat. “Don’t move; just answer.”
Jason felt bewildered. Why was he in a chair? What was over his head? His last memory was entering the tree. One instant he had been stepping through the entrance, the next he was sitting in a chair with his head covered and a knife at his throat. “I’m looking for information about the Word that can destroy Maldor.” He hoped this was what the knife wielder wanted to hear.
“Who sent you?”
“Galloran,” he replied.
“Why didn’t Galloran come himself?” the voice asked.
“He’s blind,” Jason said. He heard a quick gasp. “He failed in his quest and passed the mission along to me.”
“Fair enough,” the voice said, tugging the mesh hood off his head.
Jason looked up, blinking, perplexed, at a beautiful young woman. Suddenly he recognized her. Of course, it was Corinne. “Why’d you take it off so quickly?” he asked.
“I’m satisfied that you deserve to be here,” Corinne responded.
Jason thought about that. The hood had only covered his head for an instant. No words had been exchanged. He still had no recollection of who he was, or why he had come here. “Have you lived here long?” Jason asked.
“All of my life.”
“You were born here?”
She shrugged. “My early childhood is blurred. I grew up here.” She sat down in the other rocker.
“Is this a village of trees?” Jason wondered.
“No. This tree is encompassed by a deadly swamp. But we’re safe in here.”
“Why?”
“Do you see the puffballs growing on the walls?”
“Sure.”
“They create an atmosphere that keeps all creatures away. Except people. The atmosphere here blocks the memory of any who enter, while unveiling another portion of the mind.”
“So when I leave I’ll recall who I am,” Jason said, relieved and intrigued.
“And forget all that happened here. Were I to leave, I would lose my identity as you lost yours upon entering.” She sounded sad.
“Are you a prisoner here?”
“In a sense. If I leave, I surrender most of my memories of my mother and her mission. I would hardly know myself. I must stay to preserve what I know of the Word. It is the only way to stop a very evil man.”
“Do many people come seeking your information?