A World Without Heroes
Page 72

Rachel turned back to the head. “How do you survive?”
The head cocked a bushy eyebrow. “I eat moss. It’s specially engineered, full of nutrients, a strain devised anciently by some wizard. My arm brings it to me. My arm also brings me water from the pool, cupped in my palm.”
“What happened to the rest of you?”
“You are full of questions.”
Rachel opened her mouth to respond, but the head cut her off.
“I don’t mind. It is pleasant to converse. You aren’t a delusion, are you?”
“No, I’m really here.”
“Why have you come?”
“I’m working with Galloran, hunting for the Word.”
“Then Galloran lives!” the head exclaimed. “I expected if he still lived, Maldor would have fallen by now.”
“Galloran failed,” Rachel said.
“Tragic news. The odds have ever been against us. At least others continue to take up the cause. In answer to your previous question my body lies at the bottom of the sea. Would you care to hear the story?”
“Sure.” Rachel squatted beside the head.
The head blinked and smiled. He seemed delighted to have an audience. “Long ago I did the unthinkable. I spied on Maldor.” He whispered the part about spying.
“For years I had served him faithfully, so I was a potent spy, deeply entrenched, and I helped frustrate him many times. I had come to trust a man called Dinsrel, from Meridon, who convinced me we had to depose Maldor and prevent an age of tyranny. I believed that Dinsrel could incite a revolution.
“I was cruising northward on a warship off the western coast when I discovered that Maldor knew of my treachery. I had been spying for almost a year, and I was embroiled in what was to be my most consequential betrayal.
“I knew I was in trouble when I awoke bound securely inside a canvas bag. It is hard to keep a displacer bound for long, but they had used generous portions of rope and cord both within the bag and without, so it must have been an hour before I made any real progress freeing myself.
“While I was making a hole to escape the bag, I heard a door open. Rough hands seized me and hauled me topside. They cut open the sack, and I beheld a dreadful scene. We were surrounded by the Black Armada. Maldor’s entire fleet had assembled, including his flagship. The three warships belonging to Dinsrel had been captured. Maldor himself was present. He made me watch as Dinsrel and several other leaders were put in irons. The remainder of the rebels were executed. Maldor then publicly chastised me for my treachery, admonishing me and all who listened that any attempts to resist him would inevitably turn to his benefit.
“Somehow Maldor had learned I was unfaithful and used me to lure Dinsrel out of hiding. Dinsrel had hoped to capture the ship I was on, along with its precious cargo. Maldor had turned the attempted thievery into a masterful trap, beheading the nascent rebellion with a single blow.
“Once the executions were complete, the bodies were dumped overboard, staining the sea. I was transported to the flagship. The other ships departed.
“Maldor ordered my head severed, along with one arm. The rest of me was placed inside a heavy strongbox and thrown overboard. To this day I can feel the water around me, though I only notice it when I concentrate. I can touch the rusty insides of the strongbox. So long as my weary heart keeps beating on the bottom of the sea, I remain alive.”
“How did you get away?” Rachel asked. Her ankles hurt from squatting, so she shifted to a kneeling position.
“I was held in a cell with a fellow called Drake, a seedman, one of Dinsrel’s closest counselors, and Rex, Dinsrel’s top assassin. Rex had smuggled a lockpick into the cell in his hair. During the night he sprang the lock to our cell. Rex killed the first guard silently, but the next one raised an alarm. There was no way to rescue the others. Drake and Rex fought their way topside with me in tow and leaped into the sea.
“Rex was slain by an arrow in the water. We were miles from shore, but Drake managed to swim the distance while keeping my head above water. My hand clung to the back of his neck the whole way. Had the ship been much farther out to sea, I would not be here today.
“When Drake made it to the beach, he was exhausted. Poor fellow collapsed right there on the sand. Before sunup I roused him by flicking his eyelid. He picked me up and headed inland.
“I spent a long time as a piece of luggage, passed from person to person. After a season I received word of another defection by a displacer: Maldor’s chief scribe, Salzared. That was when I learned of the Word. A man who had learned the fifth syllable brought me here. Eventually he left. I have remained ever since, preserving a fragment of the Word, years upon years.”
“Quite a story,” Rachel said.
“Would you mind terribly lowering my lips to the water so I can take a drink? It is such a bother to shuttle water in my palm.”
“Of course. Why don’t you stay nearer to the water?” The head was about six feet away. It was a wonder the arm could bring any water to him. Rachel supposed he had a lot of practice.
“In case of a heavy rain. Twice I almost drowned, this place filled so quickly. I just barely managed to push my head away in time. It can be slow going with just an arm.”
Rachel carried the hairy, wrinkled head to the edge of the pool and lowered it carefully, holding the long beard back as best as she could, until the lips touched the surface. The head drank greedily, finally stopping with a satisfied sigh. “I have not drunk so well since Galloran was here.”
“Was he the last to visit you?”
“Correct. How did he fail? He was almost finished when he found his way here.”
“I don’t know all the details,” Rachel said. “He was captured and brainwashed. He has forgotten most of what he learned. But he helped me and a friend begin our search for the Word.”
“A shame. A good man, Galloran. You may return me to my resting place.”
Rachel situated the head as it had been before.
“We have overlooked introductions,” the head said. “I am Malar.”
“I am Lady Rachel of Caberton.”
The white eyebrows went up. “Caberton. A handsome estate.”
Rachel shook her head. “Not anymore. Galloran gave my friend and me the title, but I have heard the estate has fallen into disrepair.”
“A shame. In my day it was one of the finest. Times change when you are shut away in a cavern. This friend is male?”
“Yes?’