A World Without Heroes
Page 70
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“We won’t sink unless we hold still,” Jason insisted. “Watch.”
He jogged out onto the lake, stamping his feet. The surface shivered slightly at the point of impact, but he did not sink. Jason turned and jogged back.
“Well done, chancellor,” Ferrin said.
“That lake reeks,” Jason complained. “Out on the surface you feel the heat more. Running to the island will be a nightmare.”
“But running there is our only option,” Rachel said.
“Unless we decide to hunt for entertainment elsewhere,” Ferrin mumbled.
“We have to do this,” Jason said with determination. “Well, I have to do it. No need for more than one of us to take the risk.”
“No, it’s my turn,” Rachel said. “I’m a runner. I’ll have a better chance. You jumped off the cliff, remember? Next cliff was mine.”
“You two know something that you’re not sharing,” Ferrin probed. “You have an idea what might be out there.”
“We can’t tell you,” Jason said. “Not knowing protects you. It has to do with why the emperor is after us, and why I had to become chancellor.”
“It isn’t fair that we keep you with us,” Rachel said. “We’re putting you in danger, Ferrin. If we explained, it would only make everything worse.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Ferrin said. “I see more than I reveal, and I don’t mean to pry. I just want the two of you to be sure whatever is out there is worth risking your lives.”
“It is,” Rachel said. “We have a lot riding on this. Jason, let me run to the island. I’m smaller, built for distance. I can make it.”
Jason puffed up his cheeks and exhaled. He held up a finger. “If you slip, I’ll never forgive you, or myself.”
“I never trip,” Rachel assured him. She studied the lake. She could easily maintain a brisk jog for three or four miles, but there would be unusual variables working against her. She had heavy boots, not running shoes. The heat from the lake might cause her to tire faster, and it might get hotter away from the shore. Plus, she would need to stamp down harder than she would with her regular stride, as insurance against her foot sinking through the surface. If that happened away from the shore, even just a little, she would be finished.
Despite the danger, she had to try. It was unfair to let Jason take all of the risks, especially when she legitimately had more chance for success than him.
“Wait a minute,” Jason said, going through his satchel. “The loremaster gave me berries that boost your energy. This might be the perfect time for some extra endurance!”
Taking a bag from the satchel, he poured a small handful of shriveled berries into his palm. He lifted one darkly mottled berry to his nostrils and immediately gagged.
“They’ve gone bad,” Ferrin said. “Eating them will do more harm than good.”
“Perfect,” Jason muttered, chucking the rotten berries into the lake.
“No worries,” Rachel said, rubbing her legs anxiously. “I’ve got this. Just give me a few minutes to relax and stretch out.”
She found a large, flat rock and spent a few minutes on her back, focusing on her breathing. Then she arose, rolled up her sleeves, and stripped off her unessential gear. She thought about running barefoot or in socks, but decided the extra weight of the boots would be justified by the protection they would give her feet against the heat of the lake.
She grabbed her ankle and pulled her leg back to stretch her quadriceps, holding the pose for fifteen seconds. Then the other leg. Keeping her legs straight, she leaned forward, touching the ground between her toes.
Rachel glanced at Jason. “Keep an eye on me. You don’t want to sit around wasting your time if I fall.”
“If you’re going to fall, don’t go,” Jason said.
“I feel good,” Rachel said, trying to convince herself as much as Jason. “I’ve got this.” She walked closer to the edge of the lake.
“Step hard and quick,” Jason urged. “It’s going to be hot and stinky. If it becomes too much to handle, double back.”
“Unless you’re more than halfway there,” Ferrin added.
“Okay,” Rachel said. “Here I go.”
Standing three paces from the edge of the lake, Rachel started trotting forward. She tried to ignore the reality that she was jogging onto the surface of a lake that minutes before had been sucking her under. It seemed suicidal.
Her first quick step onto Whitelake held her weight easily. After the first few strides she began to trust the surface and fell into a rhythm. The lake had enough give that it returned some of the energy she expended with her stomping strides. As long as she kept stepping firmly, she should be fine. Because she exerted extra force downward, she did not advance as quickly as when she normally jogged, but she found a good pace, and there was no hint of the liquid tugging at her boots.
She resisted the urge to look back, concentrating all of her energy on getting to the island and maintaining her shin-punishing stride. As she had feared, the farther she proceeded onto the lake, the higher the temperature became. In a short time the air she breathed went from uncomfortably warm to truly hot, and the stench intensified. The rapid increase in temperature alarmed her. How much hotter would it get? The white liquid did not bubble or boil or even stir. No steam arose. The only visual indicator of the heat was the rippling shimmer of objects far ahead, the trembling image of the island, wavering like a mirage.
Rachel’s breathing grew deeper and more ragged much sooner than she had expected. She tilted slightly forward, trying to squeeze more forward motion from each stamping stride. Frustratingly, the island did not appear much closer. She wiped sweat from her brow with her bare forearm, which itself was damp with perspiration.
She fixated on the surface of the lake directly in front of her, ignoring the island. Her deep breathing coated her throat and lungs with the hot sulfuric smell that saturated the air. She could taste the odor. She tried to ignore the sensation, because it made her want to retch.
Soon her shirt was drenched with sweat. The temperature intensified to sweltering. It felt like jogging in a sauna. Scalding air tore at her lungs.
Rachel finally looked up. She was notably nearer to her destination, but not close enough. The temperature became hellish. Her exertion coupled with the heat radiating from the lake was overwhelming. Her head began to throb. A painful stitch burned in her side. The overtaxed muscles in her legs began to feel rubbery.
He jogged out onto the lake, stamping his feet. The surface shivered slightly at the point of impact, but he did not sink. Jason turned and jogged back.
“Well done, chancellor,” Ferrin said.
“That lake reeks,” Jason complained. “Out on the surface you feel the heat more. Running to the island will be a nightmare.”
“But running there is our only option,” Rachel said.
“Unless we decide to hunt for entertainment elsewhere,” Ferrin mumbled.
“We have to do this,” Jason said with determination. “Well, I have to do it. No need for more than one of us to take the risk.”
“No, it’s my turn,” Rachel said. “I’m a runner. I’ll have a better chance. You jumped off the cliff, remember? Next cliff was mine.”
“You two know something that you’re not sharing,” Ferrin probed. “You have an idea what might be out there.”
“We can’t tell you,” Jason said. “Not knowing protects you. It has to do with why the emperor is after us, and why I had to become chancellor.”
“It isn’t fair that we keep you with us,” Rachel said. “We’re putting you in danger, Ferrin. If we explained, it would only make everything worse.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Ferrin said. “I see more than I reveal, and I don’t mean to pry. I just want the two of you to be sure whatever is out there is worth risking your lives.”
“It is,” Rachel said. “We have a lot riding on this. Jason, let me run to the island. I’m smaller, built for distance. I can make it.”
Jason puffed up his cheeks and exhaled. He held up a finger. “If you slip, I’ll never forgive you, or myself.”
“I never trip,” Rachel assured him. She studied the lake. She could easily maintain a brisk jog for three or four miles, but there would be unusual variables working against her. She had heavy boots, not running shoes. The heat from the lake might cause her to tire faster, and it might get hotter away from the shore. Plus, she would need to stamp down harder than she would with her regular stride, as insurance against her foot sinking through the surface. If that happened away from the shore, even just a little, she would be finished.
Despite the danger, she had to try. It was unfair to let Jason take all of the risks, especially when she legitimately had more chance for success than him.
“Wait a minute,” Jason said, going through his satchel. “The loremaster gave me berries that boost your energy. This might be the perfect time for some extra endurance!”
Taking a bag from the satchel, he poured a small handful of shriveled berries into his palm. He lifted one darkly mottled berry to his nostrils and immediately gagged.
“They’ve gone bad,” Ferrin said. “Eating them will do more harm than good.”
“Perfect,” Jason muttered, chucking the rotten berries into the lake.
“No worries,” Rachel said, rubbing her legs anxiously. “I’ve got this. Just give me a few minutes to relax and stretch out.”
She found a large, flat rock and spent a few minutes on her back, focusing on her breathing. Then she arose, rolled up her sleeves, and stripped off her unessential gear. She thought about running barefoot or in socks, but decided the extra weight of the boots would be justified by the protection they would give her feet against the heat of the lake.
She grabbed her ankle and pulled her leg back to stretch her quadriceps, holding the pose for fifteen seconds. Then the other leg. Keeping her legs straight, she leaned forward, touching the ground between her toes.
Rachel glanced at Jason. “Keep an eye on me. You don’t want to sit around wasting your time if I fall.”
“If you’re going to fall, don’t go,” Jason said.
“I feel good,” Rachel said, trying to convince herself as much as Jason. “I’ve got this.” She walked closer to the edge of the lake.
“Step hard and quick,” Jason urged. “It’s going to be hot and stinky. If it becomes too much to handle, double back.”
“Unless you’re more than halfway there,” Ferrin added.
“Okay,” Rachel said. “Here I go.”
Standing three paces from the edge of the lake, Rachel started trotting forward. She tried to ignore the reality that she was jogging onto the surface of a lake that minutes before had been sucking her under. It seemed suicidal.
Her first quick step onto Whitelake held her weight easily. After the first few strides she began to trust the surface and fell into a rhythm. The lake had enough give that it returned some of the energy she expended with her stomping strides. As long as she kept stepping firmly, she should be fine. Because she exerted extra force downward, she did not advance as quickly as when she normally jogged, but she found a good pace, and there was no hint of the liquid tugging at her boots.
She resisted the urge to look back, concentrating all of her energy on getting to the island and maintaining her shin-punishing stride. As she had feared, the farther she proceeded onto the lake, the higher the temperature became. In a short time the air she breathed went from uncomfortably warm to truly hot, and the stench intensified. The rapid increase in temperature alarmed her. How much hotter would it get? The white liquid did not bubble or boil or even stir. No steam arose. The only visual indicator of the heat was the rippling shimmer of objects far ahead, the trembling image of the island, wavering like a mirage.
Rachel’s breathing grew deeper and more ragged much sooner than she had expected. She tilted slightly forward, trying to squeeze more forward motion from each stamping stride. Frustratingly, the island did not appear much closer. She wiped sweat from her brow with her bare forearm, which itself was damp with perspiration.
She fixated on the surface of the lake directly in front of her, ignoring the island. Her deep breathing coated her throat and lungs with the hot sulfuric smell that saturated the air. She could taste the odor. She tried to ignore the sensation, because it made her want to retch.
Soon her shirt was drenched with sweat. The temperature intensified to sweltering. It felt like jogging in a sauna. Scalding air tore at her lungs.
Rachel finally looked up. She was notably nearer to her destination, but not close enough. The temperature became hellish. Her exertion coupled with the heat radiating from the lake was overwhelming. Her head began to throb. A painful stitch burned in her side. The overtaxed muscles in her legs began to feel rubbery.
