Seeds of Rebellion
Page 26

“Who is your friend, Aram?” she asked sweetly.
“Don’t tell me she’s a giant,” Jason sighed. “Wait, no, the sun isn’t up yet.”
The little woman scowled at Jason, then threw Aram a questioning glance.
“He approached me tonight,” the big man told her. “I’m not sure what he’s after.”
The short woman stepped aside as Aram shoved Jason through the doorway with casual, implacable strength. By stumbling most of the way across the room, Jason barely managed to avoid falling flat on his face. Aram ushered him into a tidy parlor, motioning for Jason to take a seat on a sofa. Aram and his mother sat in armchairs. The room did not look like the bachelor pad of a hulking bouncer. Everything seemed soft and frilly. Apparently, Mom was in charge of the decor.
“You have a nice home,” Jason said, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Thank you,” the woman replied. “What’s all this nonsense about giants?”
Jason glanced at Aram, who returned the gaze in silence, tacitly seconding the inquiry.
“Well, I made a joke to your son about him shrinking at dawn, and he got really upset. Seemed like a touchy subject.”
The little woman considered Jason suspiciously. “Where have you heard about shrinking giants?”
“I was in their village a few days ago.”
They both looked at Jason like he was lying.
“I’m telling the truth.”
“For your sake, you’d better be,” Aram said, leaning forward. “Go on.”
“I went there by accident. I thought I had imperials after me. Turned out to be a lurker.”
The little woman gasped.
“An actual darkling?” Aram asked.
Jason shrugged. “All black, like a shadow come to life?”
Aram nodded skeptically. “Keep going.”
“I got to the giant village not long before sunset. The people were all little, like your mom. The houses were enormous, but they convinced me the giants had left long ago. Seeing all the little people running around, it seemed true. They invited me to dinner, and when the sun went down, they all changed into giants and then wanted to eat me.”
“But you battled your way to freedom,” Aram said sarcastically.
“No. I climbed up inside the chimney, and they would have gotten me, but the lurker caught up with me and frightened them away.”
“How did you escape the lurker?” Aram asked.
“I came here. They hate big towns. It stopped following me on the far side of the floodplain.”
“And you claim Tark sent you to me?”
“Yes. To help me rejoin him and Galloran.”
Aram chuckled. “Some good liars lean on extravagant details, but you abuse the technique.” His expression darkened. “Who are you? You never shared your name. Make no mistake, your life depends on a straight answer.”
Jason glanced from Aram to his mother. Neither of them liked that he knew about giants. They were certainly hiding something. If they were somehow affiliated with the giants, it most likely meant that Aram was an enemy. But if he was such a bad guy, why would Tark have recommended him? Could Tark have been totally wrong about him?
“Tark could have sent me anywhere,” Jason murmured. “He could have sent me to anyone. Why you? I don’t think you’re on our side.”
Aram frowned, eyes wary. “I’m not on anyone’s side. I have a few friends, sure. But I have a hard time believing Tark sent you to ambush me with secrets about my past. You might as well drop the innocent act. We all know where this is heading. Are you after money? Some kind of bribe?”
Jason furrowed his brow. Whatever connection Aram had to the giants was clearly a guilty secret. If Aram thought this was a shakedown, it would explain his paranoid behavior. “You’ve got this all wrong. I just wanted to hire you based on Tark’s recommendation.”
“Enough nonsense,” Aram’s mother interjected. “Who else knows you’re here? Who are you, really?”
As Jason looked from mother to son, he realized that they seemed braced for disaster. If he could convince them that he meant no harm, maybe he could still get the help he needed. And avoid Aram pounding him into hamburger meat.
“I’m honestly not here to connect you to the giants,” Jason said. “My name is Lord Jason of Caberton. My title was granted by Galloran. I am the former chancellor of Trensicourt. I have been in and out of the dungeons of Felrook, and I come from the Beyond.”
Aram smiled and shook his head. “I’ve never witnessed such shameless bluffing! So you are the mysterious Lord Jason who outwitted Copernum before disappearing into thin air.”
“You heard about that?”
“Everyone did, as you well know. You choose a grand alias to accompany a monstrous exaggeration. Except rumor has it Lord Jason accepted an invitation to Harthenham. End of story.”
“I broke out of Harthenham, was taken before Maldor, escaped Felrook, and returned to the Beyond. But I’m back. I learned some vital information that needs to be shared, and I left a friend behind in Lyrian.”
Aram shook his head, then looked to his mother. “This is absurd. What do we do?”
His mother raised her eyebrows. “Have you any evidence to prove your story?”
“What’s your name?” Jason asked.
“Moira.”
“Nice to meet you, Moira. I’m still dressed in clothes from the Beyond. See my boots? My pants? Have you ever seen clothes quite like them?”
“No,” Moira said. “Go on.”
“I can tell you details,” Jason said. “I can talk about the gong that grants audience with Maldor, or the inside of the lorevault at Trensicourt, or what a mangler looks like after you blast it with orantium.”
“How about the signet ring to Caberton?” Aram asked, holding out a hand.
“I don’t have it. I left it with a seedman before I entered Felrook. But the ring has a gem in it that glows when a certain chime is rung.”
“You mentioned orantium,” Aram pursued. “I don’t suppose you have any samples?”
“I used what I had blowing up a mangler.” He cupped his hand, fingers curling as if holding an invisible ball. “But the crystal sphere was about this big. The little mineral inside glows intensely for an instant before exploding.”
“Have you any physical evidence besides odd clothes?” Moira asked.
“When Tark and I escaped from Harthenham, he snatched some jewels.” Jason pulled the drawstring bag from his pocket.