The Pilgrims of Rayne

by D. J. MacHale

  “So how do we stop him?” he asked.

  I smiled. Siry was with me. Before I had the chance to say a word, another screen came to life. Then another. And another. One by one, each and every screen in that control cubicle flashed white. The screens in the next cubicle began firing up as well, along with the cubicles across the corridor from us.

  “What’s happening?” Siry asked in fear.

  I had no idea. Soon the whole core was glowing with light. The colored lights on each chair’s control panel fired up as well. In seconds the entire core looked as alive as it had the last time I was there, when Lifelight was fully operational.

  “Could Aja have done this?” Siry asked.

  I didn’t have an answer. Someone else did.

  “Aja, Aja, Aja!” boomed a familiar voice. It came from every speaker in the core.

  Siry covered his ears. He had never heard anything like this before. Unfortunately, I had.

  The voice boomed, “That annoying girl has taken quite a bit of credit, considering her miserable failure. Don’t you agree, Pendragon?”

  Siry shot me a terrified, confused look. I felt bad for him. I really did. I knew what was about to happen. Any last doubts he had about his father’s stories were going to be blown away. He had been handed a lot of hard truths in the last few hours. He was about to get another.

  “Pendragon?” Siry asked, his voice quivering. “Who is that guy?”

  “He’s the reason we’re here,” I answered calmly.

  “Look!” he screamed, pointing to a monitor.

  On-screen, floating against the white background, was a pair of intense, blue eyes. Evil eyes. Above them red jagged scars appeared. Then the outline of a face. Finally the image snapped clear and he was there. Saint Dane. He was only an image in a monitor, but it was like he could see us. Another of his images appeared on the monitor next to that one. And the next one and the next. Soon Saint Dane’s hideous face was staring at us a thousand times over. Siry didn’t know which way to turn. Everywhere he looked, he saw the demon Traveler.

  “The Convergence is near, Pendragon,” his voice boomed from the speakers. “I couldn’t care less about this pathetic, primitive society. I’ve simply chosen Ibara to be my starting point.”

  “What does he mean?” Siry asked nervously.

  I kept my calm and looked around at the multiple monitors. I wasn’t sure which one to focus on, though I guessed it didn’t matter. Saint Dane would know I was talking to him.

  “I don’t believe that,” I said loudly. “Nothing you do is random. You need Ibara as much as any territory. We’ve got another chance, and this time we’re going to win.”

  The images of Saint Dane laughed in unison. It chilled me. I couldn’t imagine how Siry felt about it.

  “I applaud your confidence,” he chuckled. “I always have. Your bravura is charming but hardly plausible. Forgive me if I don’t feel threatened by someone who until recently didn’t know what territory he was on.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I spat back, pacing, staring into his eyes from monitor to monitor. “I know how you operate. You’ve convinced the Flighters to attack Ibara. But it’s a waste of time. Their defenses are too strong. Aja made sure of that. Yeah, a handful of Flighters might get onto the island, but that’s not enough to do any real damage. Ibara is strong. The culture there is returning. Your victory here was temporary. We’re going to take back Veelox.”

  I had no idea if any of that was true, but it sounded good. All I really wanted was to goad Saint Dane into tipping his hand and revealing his true plan.

  “Pendragon,” Saint Dane said with mock patience, “as usual, you know only enough to sound like a fool.”

  “Then show me how I’m wrong. Dazzle me with your brilliance.”

  I saw a thousand faces of the demon looking back at me from a thousand monitors. “You’ve grown full of yourself, “he chuckled. “Your many victories have given you a feeling of…invincibility.”

  “You’ve won two territories,” I shot right back. “The way it’s looking now, one of them is coming back to haunt you. It’s over. Halla is not going to fall. You’ve lost. The people of the territories were too strong for you. Things are going to play out the way they were meant to.”

  “I’m curious,” Saint Dane sniffed. “What makes you so certain the way things were meant to be isn’t my way?”

  His words rocked me. I tried not to show it. “I don’t believe that,” I snarled. “If the Flighters had any chance of conquering Ibara, they would have done it a long time ago. How long has it been since the island was settled? Decades? A century?”

  Saint Dane laughed. “Hardly. In Second Earth years, Rubic City has been abandoned for over three centuries.”

  Yikes. Long time.

  “Three hundred years,” I repeated. “Ibara was growing stronger the whole time. The Flighters don’t stand a chance.”

  Saint Dane laughed. I hated that, as usual.

  “You disappoint me, Pendragon. You should know that time means nothing. It’s about decisions, opportunities, and turning points. Ibara is about to reach its turning point, and you still don’t have the slightest idea of what it might be.”

  I didn’t say anything. I didn’t have to. He knew how clueless I was.

  “Enter the pyramid,” Saint Dane commanded. “Bring your befuddled young Traveler friend. It’s a shame his father will not be here to appreciate what you’re about to see. Though I suppose that’s my own fault for having killed him.”

  I shot a look to Siry. His eyes flashed. His spark was back. Saint Dane’s words were turning him into a Traveler.

  “I’ll kill him,” Siry hissed through clenched teeth.

  “Keep it together,” I cautioned. “This is only the beginning.”

  I could feel Siry’s tension. His hatred. Saint Dane had made an enemy. I wasn’t sure if that was good, or something that Saint Dane wanted. I wasn’t sure of anything except that we needed to learn more. If Saint Dane wanted to show us, that was okay by me.

  “Enter the pyramid, Pendragon,” Saint Dane’s images said. “And step into the future.”

  “You can’t predict the future of Ibara,” I said boldly.

  “Ibara? I’m referring to the future of Halla,” was his cold answer.

  JOURNAL #30

  IBARA

  “Come on,” I said to Siry, gently grabbing his arm.

  Siry let me lead him, but he felt like a coiled spring. I figured that might be helpful, but not just then. I pulled him out of the workstation and walked along the glass corridor toward the center of the pyramid. Saint Dane’s images watched us from thousands of monitors, softly chuckling. It was like being in a surreal fun house where the clown from hell was having a lot more fun than we were.

  “We’re going into the center of the pyramid,” I told Siry. “Where all the jump tubes are. Whatever is inside, it’s something Saint Dane wants us to see.”

  “Why should we do anything he wants?”

  “To find out what his plans are. Stay alert. At some point we’re going to have to get away. Do as I say and don’t hesitate.”

  Siry nodded. I pushed open the door at the end of the core, and the two of us stepped into the immense center of Lifelight. I’m amazed to say that the space didn’t look much different from when I had been there before. Three centuries before. The interior was a huge, cavernous space with multiple balconies built along the sloping walls. The floor had to be the size of two football fields next to one another. The sides were built at a steep angle that eventually came to a point high in the sky—the point of the pyramid. Access to the hundreds of balconies was from a central tube with an elevator that went from the floor all the way to the top of the pyramid. There were hundreds of catwalks that spanned the distance from the tube out to the various levels. I had walked along one of those narrow sky bridges. The memory made my palms sweat. It was the closest I ever came to walking a tightrope.

  Each balcony had thousand
s of rooms that contained the Lifelight jump tubes. From the floor I could look up and see many of the closed doors, just as I remembered. Only this time, no lights were lit outside the doors to indicate a jump was taking place. This was no longer Lifelight. It was a mausoleum. After so many years the jumpers would be nothing more than skeletons. Or dust. The idea that we were looking up at the graves of multiple thousands of people sent a chill up my spine.

  I glanced at Siry. He was in awe, though I didn’t think he really got the idea of Lifelight or that this had become a place of the dead. It didn’t matter. That was ancient history. Looking across the floor, I realized it wasn’t the sheer size of the place that stunned Siry. There was something else. Something far more disturbing. Standing maybe twenty yards from us, with his arms folded, was Saint Dane. In the flesh. Or whatever it is he’s made out of. Seeing him there, alone, unmoving, made my skin crawl. He was in his normal form, standing well over six feet tall with his all-black suit. The dark suit made his bald head stand out even more starkly. As far away as he was, I could see that he was smiling and staring at us with his cold eyes.

  “Welcome back, Pendragon,” he called with a sinister sneer, his voice echoing through the pyramid.

  “Where is Twig?” Siry bellowed as he took a threatening step toward him. I quickly held him back.

  “Whoa,” I cautioned. “That won’t help.”

  “What exactly is a twig?” Saint Dane asked innocently.

  “She better not be hurt,” Siry shouted, straining against me. I gripped his arm to keep him under control.

  Saint Dane shook his head in disappointment. “Haven’t you explained to him that there is much more at stake than the life of one of his playmates?”

  “Who are you!” Siry screamed in anger.

  I gripped him tighter, holding him back.

  “Don’t you know?” Saint Dane said with glee. “I’m the boogeyman.”

  “Calm down,” I whispered to Siry. “Yelling at him won’t help.”

  Siry backed off. He didn’t relax, but he backed off.

  “What do you want to show us?” I barked.

  Saint Dane strolled casually, glancing up at the balconies. “It’s been about Veelox from the beginning, you know,” he began. “This is where I’ve been preparing to stage my conquest of Halla. I guess you could say it’s been three hundred years in the making. Once Ibara has been snuffed, the Convergence will begin.”

  “You haven’t told me what the Convergence is,” I said casually.

  Saint Dane stopped, looked at me, and smiled. “I haven’t, have I?”

  He didn’t then, either. So much for trying to trick him into answering me.

  He continued, “To be quite honest, Ibara isn’t important. I consider it more of a training exercise.”

  “Training who?” I asked. “For what?”

  “Why, Pendragon!” he exclaimed with mock surprise. “I thought you had so brilliantly put it together.”

  As if on cue, I sensed movement. Siry tensed. Creeping out of the shadows like rats came the Flighters. Dozens of them. No, more like hundreds. Behind us, several more appeared, forcing us to step closer to Saint Dane. They formed a giant ring around us. Their tattered, rotten clothing now made sense. They were living examples of what had happened to the city itself. Their clothes were falling apart because no new clothing had been manufactured in centuries. They were like rodents, living in squalor. It was no big surprise that Saint Dane was able to organize them into assaulting Ibara. Whatever he promised them would be better than what they had.

  “This is beneath you,” I said to Saint Dane. “These people are desperate. They’ll do whatever you ask. Where’s the challenge?”

  “It’s true,” Saint Dane replied. “It wasn’t difficult.”

  “Then what’s the point? “I asked. “You always have some grand philosophical reason for targeting a territory and proving how greedy people can be. Or arrogant. Or power hungry. What’s the big lesson here? What are you trying to prove? That you can organize a bunch of desperate losers into attacking Ibara? This whole thing seems kind of…pathetic.”

  I was hoping to tick him off. I didn’t. He laughed. Again. I’ve mentioned how much I hate that, right? Only about a hundred times.

  “Pendragon, my boy, I had hoped you would one day realize how misguided your efforts have been. I tried, time and again, to demonstrate how the people of the territories are their own worst enemies, but my lessons were never learned. I will reluctantly admit defeat on that front. You are beyond help. You could have been by my side while the new Halla was created, but I’m afraid that offer is no longer available. All that is left now is to complete what I started.”

  The ring of Flighters got smaller. They stared at us with dead eyes. Their soulless gazes didn’t bother me as much as Saint Dane’s words. Something about him had changed. He was as self-assured as ever, but this felt different. It was like he didn’t care about me anymore. I’ve always felt as if he needed to defeat me in order to conquer Halla. His new attitude made me feel as if that didn’t matter anymore. Or worse. It felt as if I had already been defeated. I needed to claw myself back into the game.

  “You’re kidding, right?” I said, scoffing. “This is the future of Halla? You really think this grunge can conquer anything? Sure, they can beat up on a bunch of kids, but you don’t seriously think they’re going to threaten Ibara? And then what do you plan to do? Take these smelly creeps and march on Second Earth? On Third Earth? Is that your big Convergence?” I laughed. “Go for it! But do me a favor. Make sure I’m around to watch the fun.”

  Saint Dane continued to smile. I tried to hold mine. It wasn’t easy. I knew there had to be more.

  “To be sure,” he said with a sinister smile. “I most definitely want you there to watch the fun.”

  The pyramid was suddenly filled with sound. I couldn’t tell what it was at first, but it sounded like high-pitched squeaking. It came from everywhere, reverberating off the pyramid walls and bouncing around the cavernous space.

  “What is that?” Siry whispered nervously.

  My eye caught movement up above. All around us, on every level, the doors leading to the jump tubes opened up. Every last one of them. I had the fleeting thought that the ghosts of the dead were rising up from their graves. That wasn’t the case, unfortunately. I would have liked that a lot better than the truth. People were slowly stepping out of the jump rooms. If every jump room held only one person, there could easily be ten thousand people about to make an appearance.

  “Flighters,” Siry gasped.

  I watched as the people walked slowly and stiffly out the doors, toward the balcony railing that looked down over the center of the pyramid.

  Siry was near panic. “We can never fight off that many,” he said.

  I stared up at the thousands of faces as they walked to the railing and looked down on us. My throat clutched. I knew what I was seeing, but my brain didn’t want to accept it. In that one instant Saint Dane’s plan became horrifyingly clear. I had underestimated him, again. From what I was seeing, he was absolutely capable of overrunning Ibara. No, worse. I understood why he considered Ibara a training exercise. The tiny island wouldn’t stand a chance against this army. My mind was reeling. The possibilities were too horrible to comprehend. This might only be the beginning.

  Saint Dane chuckled. “Still want to be around to watch, Pendragon?”

  His plan for Ibara was becoming clear. His plan for Veelox was becoming clear. His plan to make Veelox his stepping-off point for the destruction of Halla was becoming clear. The truth was all around us, staring down from above.

  “Pendragon,” Siry said, his voice cracking. “Those aren’t Flighters.”

  They wore the same rotten rags as Flighters, but that’s where the similarity ended. They were much bigger than the Flighters. I could say they looked well fed, but I knew the real reason. I knew these guys. I had fought these guys. On First Earth. At the gate. I had grabbed a handf
ul of clothing and it had disintegrated. Now I realized why. It was all coming together in one, terrifying bundle. On First Earth there were only a few. Here, there were thousands, with no way to know how many more might be right behind.

  “They aren’t Flighters,” I said to Siry. “They’re called dados, and Ibara doesn’t stand a chance.”

  JOURNAL #30

  IBARA

  The ring of Flighters slowly grew tighter around us, while thousands of dados watched from above. As the reality of what we now faced became clear, I was hit with a wave of emotion I’m not sure how to describe, other than to say I felt beaten. Not just on Veelox. Everywhere.

  “You’re right about the Flighters, Pendragon,” Saint Dane said. “They aren’t capable of mounting anywhere near the kind of force I need. Though they have been quite helpful. We’ve been testing the defenses of Ibara for a while now. Their hard work will insure the minimum amount of loss when the fun begins.”

  Fun. He was about to overrun Halla with a mechanized army. Talk about mixing the territories! Everything else had been prelude. With an army like this, he could wreak havoc on Ibara. And Second Earth. And Third Earth. And every other territory that wouldn’t know how to deal with such an invincible foe.

  “As I said, it’s too late, Pendragon,” he chuckled.

  “For what?” I asked, not really caring to know.

  “For you to join me,” he said with mock sympathy. “It wouldn’t be the same, now that you know you’ve been beaten. I wanted you when you thought you still had a chance. Now, well, it would be embarrassing for you to beg. So don’t. Unless you feel the need.”

  “What do we do?” Siry whispered.

  “Nothing. It’s over.”

  “It’s not,” he hissed in anger.

  All I wanted was to crawl into one of the Lifelight tubes and make it my home for eternity. Siry grabbed me roughly by the arm.

  “Ahhh!” Saint Dane exclaimed with a laugh. “This delusional young Traveler has some fight left. Perhaps you should explain to him how completely hopeless your situation is.”