A World Without Heroes
Page 84

“You wait here,” Jason whispered to Rachel. “I’ll call if I need you.”
“If snakes or frogs show up, I’m not waiting,” she whispered back. “Be careful.”
She backed away a few steps from the yawning gap.
Jason hesitated. Anything could await inside. He took his poniard from his sodden cloak. Why was his cloak so wet? He couldn’t recall. He knew he needed to get inside the tree though. Why? For shelter? No. He needed more of the Word. He slapped his cheek and shook his head.
Cautiously he edged into the gap, continuing forward as the woody passage curved deeper into the colossal tree.
CHAPTER 19
PYTHONESS
By the time Jason emerged from the long gap into the sizable hollow inside the tree, he felt utterly baffled. A lovely young girl in her teens sat staring at him in astonishment from a wooden rocking chair. A colorful throw rug lay on the ground, and two bookshelves loaded with literature stood against one wall. Light shone from a small crystal resting on a shelf.
Jason looked up. The hollow reached high, disappearing in shadow. Why was he inside a tree? And why was he holding a knife? Hurriedly he put it away.
“Who are you, visitor?” she asked, rising, her kind voice containing an undercurrent of apprehension.
“I . . . I’m . . . not sure.”
She smiled. Her clothes were simple, but her fresh young beauty was entirely disarming. She was tall, with a slender build and a beautifully sculpted face. Her blond eyebrows arched delicately over striking eyes of the deepest green. Her skin was unblemished and fair. “You do not remember,” she said.
Jason scowled, rubbing his forehead. He had a persistent suspicion that he was somebody. The answer felt barely out of reach. He looked at his muddy boots, wondering if they held some clue. His clothes were wet. Something stank like rancid dung. Some investigative sniffing revealed it was himself. He tried to picture his own face but failed. “I really don’t.”
“No matter,” the young woman said lightly. “I am Corinne.”
“Sorry about my smell. I don’t know why I reek like this.”
“No need to apologize.”
“Where am I?”
“Inside a tree,” she said.
Jason gazed at the beauty of his hostess, trying to restrain his eyes from lingering impolitely. “Why am I here?”
“Judging by the knife you hid, you are probably seeking the Word. I recognize the emblem on the hilt.”
Jason pulled out his knife and showed it to her. “Sorry about that. I’m not sure what I was thinking. What word are you talking about?”
“A word that can destroy an evil person. You probably can’t remember.”
Jason pinched his lower lip, squinting at the ground, trying to will memories to surface. What was his problem?
“You look distressed,” she said.
Jason looked up. “It’s frustrating. I’m almost positive that I’m somebody. But I can’t remember a thing. Do I have amnesia? Should I know you?”
“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.