“Is it possible?” Moman asked. “Is it over?”
I didn’t want to let myself believe it, but the plan had actually worked. The tak had worked. The dados had been turned back. Saint Dane’s army had been stopped in its tracks. I was already thinking ahead to what his next move might be, when Alder grabbed my arm.
“What?” I asked, surprised.
He pointed out to the bay. I looked, and my knees buckled.
“That was only the first wave,” he said soberly.
Another armada of dados on skimmers was passing through the opening, headed for the beach.
“The battle is just beginning,” I said.
JOURNAL #32
IBARA
Genj panicked.
“Get my people out of there!” he screamed. “Pull them back. We’ll throw ourselves on their mercy. They won’t slaughter us! Not if we surrender. I’ll speak to their leader. I’ll reason with him. His terms may be harsh, but we will survive. We must survive. I will contact him and—”
“Genj!” I interrupted. “He wants to destroy Ibara. Nothing you can say will change that.”
“But what choice do we have?” the man said, red faced. “This is suicide!”
He might have been right, but I wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet, anyway. I walked back to the map and stared at it. An idea had been forming for a while. It would be an act of desperation. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but somehow I knew it would. It always did.
“We cannot hold back another attack, Pendragon,” Alder said calmly.
I ran to the window to see the progress of the next wave of dados. They had entered the bay and were moving slowly, cautiously. They had learned from their mistakes. That was okay by me. We needed all the time we could get.
“There’s a chance,” I said quickly. “But we have to commit now or there won’t be enough time.”
“Whatever it is, let’s do it!” Siry announced with confidence. “We’ve been through too much to give up now.”
“What do you suggest, Pendragon,” Alder asked.
“Siry, how many crates of tak are left?”
“Three,” he answered quickly. “They’re at the base of the mountain.”
I faced the group and said, “You’re right, Genj. Leaving the archers out there is suicide. Alder, get everyone back. Take twenty or so archers and set up on the fourth line of defense.” I pointed to the line we had drawn that was halfway between the mountain and the beach. “Get everyone else into the mountain. Everyone. The battle is over for them. Send runners down and evacuate the tunnel.”
“Pendragon,” Alder said worriedly. “We cannot hold back a fresh invasion for long with only twenty archers.”
“You won’t have to. Let the dados land, and come forward. But stop them here.” I stabbed my finger on the map ahead of where the underground tunnel was located. “You don’t have to put on a massive defense. Just keep them from advancing beyond this point. The more dados that join them from the rear, the better.”
Alder stared at the map, trying to understand my thinking. A second later I saw the light go on. He smiled and said, “It might work.”
“What might work?” Siry asked, frustrated. “What am I missing?”
“We’re gonna let ’em come,” I answered. “Pack ‘em in. The more the merrier. The last sound they’ll hear is a very big boom.”
Siry’s eyes went wide when he figured it out. “We’re going to blow up the rest of the tak down in the tunnel,” he gasped.
“Right under their robot butts,” I confirmed.
Genj and the ladies exchanged concerned looks. “It sounds dangerous,” Drea said.
“Sounds dangerous?” I laughed. “It’s insane!” I looked to Siry and Alder. “If you’re with me, say so now, because we don’t have much time.”
Siry quickly shouted, “Are you kidding? Let’s do it.”
“I will find the runners,” Alder said, and started for the door.
I hurried after him and stopped him just as he was about to leave. “You can’t be anywhere near the trap when I spring it, but I have no way of letting you know when it’s going to go.”
“Do not worry, Pendragon. I will make sure we keep our distance. But how will you explode the tak?”
I shrugged, “Haven’t gotten that far yet.”
Alder gave me a quick hug and said, “I know I have said this before, but I am proud that you are the lead Traveler.”
“And I’m glad you talked me into letting you come here. Go!”
Alder took off running. I went back to the tribunal. “You’ll be safe up here. Everyone in the mountain should be safe. If this fails, get out. Take everyone that’s left and get out. Go to the far side of the island. Find the others and leave. Take fishing boats. Take anything that floats, but get away. Whatever happens do not let Saint Dane get to you. You people are now the pilgrims of Rayne.”
Genj nodded. He got it. The poor guy looked pale. Drea and Moman didn’t look so hot either.
“Thank you,” Genj said.
“I’m counting on you to survive,” I told him. “The future of Veelox is yours.”
“And yours,” he added.
I grabbed my black dado rod, put it through the back of my shirt to free my hands, and headed for the door. Siry was right behind me. Timing would be everything. We had to be ready when the dados marched into the trap. We ran down the stone steps to the base of the mountain. The large ground-level cavern was being used as a makeshift battlefield hospital. Bodies of wounded archers were being carried in and placed on the floor. I was actually happy to hear them groaning. It meant they were still alive. Several runners tended to the wounded, bringing them water or bandaging up wounded limbs. One woman was working exceptionally hard.
“Telleo!” I called out. “I thought you were on the far side of the island.”
“I’m more valuable here. This is insane, Pendragon. Is the battle over?”
“It will be soon. We’re going to end it.”
“Will you surrender?”
“Nah. We’re setting up a little welcome gift for our guests. Should be a real blast. That’s a joke.”
She didn’t laugh. Neither did Siry.
“Be careful,” she said, and went back to helping the wounded.
Careful? That was an even better joke. The two of us ran to the far corner of the cavern, where a runner guarded the last three crates of explosives. We each lifted one of the heavy, square crates and lugged it toward the stairs that led to the tunnels below. The word to evacuate had already been given. We had to push our way past the stream of archers that climbed up and out. Their eyes were wide and frightened. They were all too happy to get out of that tunnel. They looked shell shocked. Or tak shocked.
Between lugging the heavy crates and fighting against the stream of retreating archers, it was slow going. A couple of times I got jostled and nearly dropped the crate. That would have been messy. Finally the archers thinned out, and Siry and I had a clear path.
“How will we know when to set off the tak?” he asked as we shuffled along.
“We should hear the battle sounds above us. As soon as that starts, we’ll know the dados have arrived.”
“And how do we set off the explosion?”
I didn’t answer him. I didn’t think he’d want to hear what I had in mind.
“Pendragon?” Siry insisted. He did want to know.
“It’s easy to explode tak,” I answered. “The trick is to be somewhere else when it goes off.”
“So?”
“So I won’t be. Somewhere else, I mean.”
“What!” Siry exclaimed. He stopped short and put his crate down.
I put my own crate down. “There’s no way you’re going to understand this, because I don’t either. Saint Dane told me the Travelers are illusions. The more I see, the more I think he wasn’t lying.”
Siry’s response was to stare at me dumbly. No big surprise.
“I’ve killed Saint Da
ne and he didn’t die,” I said. “He killed Loor and somehow she came back from the dead.”
“But my father is dead. And what about all the others who died?”
“I don’t think they’re gone. At least not entirely.”
“That makes no sense,” Siry cried. “Where are they?”
“I don’t know,” I answered. “There’s so much about Halla we don’t know. Who created the flumes? What power controls them? How can Saint Dane do the things he does? He’s a Traveler. We’re Travelers. We may be more like him than we know. I don’t think Travelers can die, at least not the way we think of it.”
“That’s just crazy,” he shouted.
“I know, but I think it’s true. Uncle Press promised me I’d see him again. I believe him. Maybe that time has come.”
Siry shook his head. He didn’t want to accept what I was saying.
“Trust me, I don’t want to do this,” I added. “But I think it’s the only way to save Ibara. And Veelox. And Halla.”
“Let me do it,” Siry said with conviction. “This is my territory. It’s my fault all this happened anyway.”
“It’s not!” I exclaimed. “If not for you and the Jakills, Ibara never would have had a chance. Once this battle is over, the people are going to need you. You’ve got to help rebuild Ibara and Veelox. Beating Saint Dane and the dados is only the beginning. You and Genj and the others will be the new pilgrims.”
“What will the Travelers do without you?” he cried.
“I don’t think they will be without me. The same way that I’ve felt Uncle Press was with me these past years, I think I’ll still be with them, and with you. Believe me, if there was any other way, I’d—”
“Wait,” Siry said. He was staring at something on the ground. “Maybe there is another way.”
I looked to where he was staring. Lying there was a bow that one of the archers dropped as he fled from the tunnel.
“Maybe you’re right about everything,” he said thoughtfully. “Maybe we’re illusions. Maybe we can’t die. But you don’t know for sure. You can’t know. I say we put off finding out.”
I understood what he meant. There was another way.
“Go back,” I said quickly. “Get the arrows. I’ll place the tak.”
Siry didn’t hesitate. He turned and ran back toward the mountain. That’s when we heard the first explosion from above. The final battle had begun. Siry stopped and looked back at me, saying, “You will wait for me, right?’
“Hurry.”
He was off, sprinting back the way we had come. I meant every word I said to him. I was prepared to find out the truth about the Travelers. Was I totally sure that I would somehow live on? No. But I was ready to take the risk. In some ways that felt like giving up. It was a drastic act of desperation to beat Saint Dane. If there was a way to beat him without going that far, I wanted to take it. Siry might have found that way.
I picked up one of the crates and hurried along the tunnel. I wished I could have taken them both, but it would have been too heavy, and I didn’t want to risk dropping one. It was another fifty yards before I reached the intersection that was under the kill zone. A few more explosions went off above. Sand rained down on me from the concussions. Though the battle had begun, the explosions were few and far between. Alder was being smart. He didn’t want them to know it was a trap. The full assault hadn’t begun. The dados hadn’t arrived in force. We still had time.
I placed the first crate of tak on the ground at the intersection of the tunnel that lead to the mountain and the tunnel that ran parallel to the shore. Before going back for the second, I pulled the dado weapon from the back of my shirt. I wouldn’t need it anymore. I could run faster without it. I dropped it on the ground next to the crate and sprinted back for the next load. More explosions sounded from above. Things were getting hotter. Siry had to hurry. I got to the second crate, picked it up, and hurried back to the intersection. When I arrived, I decided to place the second crate on top of the first. Raising the height would help our plan. It was done. The trap was set. I was about to turn and run back for the bow, when I realized something was wrong.
The dado weapon was gone. I looked around quickly. Was I crazy? I knew I’d put it down right by the crate just a minute before. Did it roll away? I heard a scraping sound come from the tunnel off to my left. I crouched down on full alert and gazed into the darkness. The tunnel was empty except for the ladders that led up to the lookout points.
“Hello?” I called. “Are you all right?” I figured it was one of the archers who was hurt and got left behind. I had to get him out of there fast. Leaving him there would be a death sentence. I heard shuffling footsteps. Somebody was definitely there.
“Hey, you’ve got to get out of here,” I called. “There’s going to be a—”
The words caught in my throat when I saw who it was. Or I should say what it was. Walking stiffly from out of the darkness was a dado. I figured it must have somehow dug its way into the tunnel from above. It was one of the surviving dados from the first wave of the invasion. It moved strangely, as if its circuits were scrambled. It held my dado weapon, leaning on it like a crutch for support. I didn’t know what to do. The machine was acting all wacky, as if it were on its last legs. I relaxed, thinking it would take a couple more steps and then…lights out.
I was wrong. Without warning, the dado attacked. It swung the rod at me. I ducked and felt the sharp breeze as it whistled by, barely missing my head. Its next shot didn’t miss. It whipped the metal rod back and cuffed me across the forehead, sending me reeling. I hit the far wall of the tunnel hard. Before I could get my feet under me, the dado came at me, holding the rod out like a spear. It was going to stab me. I threw myself backward. The tip of the rod dug into the wall where my body had been a second before.
I grabbed the rod with both hands and drove myself backward, bending my legs and digging in my heels. The dado didn’t expect that. It held on to the rod and came with me. The two of us staggered together, until I lost my balance and fell back, pulling the dado along. We both crashed to the ground next to the crates of tak. If we had landed on them, well, the fight would have ended with a bang. The dado and I were jumbled together in a heap, clutching the weapon. Neither had control.
The dado’s movements were jerky and rough. There was definitely something haywire with its system that must have affected its thinking, too, because it made a fatal mistake. It let go of the rod with one hand to punch me in the head. It clocked me pretty good. Man, I saw stars. But I didn’t let go of the rod. I knew it was the one thing that would save me. I somehow kept my wits, and as the dado cocked back to hit me again, I twisted the rod out of its grasp. It swung again. This time I drove my legs and sprang out of the way. The dado hit nothing but air, and I was on my feet. I had the weapon. The dado followed through with the punch and landed on its back. I stood over it with the rod. The fight was over. Grasping the weapon firmly, I drove it into the dado’s chest. Instantly the lights went out. The dado lay lifeless with the weapon pointing straight up. I staggered back, still dizzy from taking so many shots. Still, I wasn’t so dizzy that it kept me from hearing a mechanical, wheezing sound behind me.
I spun quickly to see another dado approach. This one looked even worse than the last. It walked on stiff legs, as if its knee joints were fused, and its head twitched sharply, as if it were trying to focus but couldn’t. One of its arms was blown off. This thing would have been no threat…except that it held a weapon. In its one good hand it grasped one of the golden rifles I figured was Quillan. Slowly, painfully, it lifted the weapon toward me. I was too far away to attack.
I dove for the dead dado, and the rod. I yanked it out of the dead machine, reared back, and heaved it like a spear. The weapon sailed across the tunnel and found its mark. I nailed the second dado right in the stomach. It never got the gun to shooting level. It was dead on its feet, literally. The dado hung there for a moment, then crumpled into a heap. Done.
Several more explosions sounded above. The battle was intensifying. Part of me wanted to end it right there and set off the tak, but it might have been too soon. And Siry might have been on his way back.
And the second dead dado had a gun!
I ran to the machine and pulled the rifle from its dead grasp. It was perfect. I had no doubt that this gun would ignite the tak, and from a decent distance away, too. Without waiting another second I ran back through the tunnel toward the mountain, stopping when I reached the abandoned bow. Looking ahead, there was no sign of Siry. More explosions went off. The time was growing near. Was it too soon? I turned back to face the end of the tunnel, and the tak. I saw the two crates far in the distance. It was incredible to think of the power those two small crates contained. How intense would the explosion be? How much damage would it do? I knew it would obliterate whatever dados were overhead. My fear was what it might do to the good guys. To Alder. To Rayne.
The explosions above grew more furious. Was it time? Should I wait? There was no way I could know for sure, and I was too nervous to wait any longer. It was time for the big boom. I raised the rifle and put the tak crates in my sight. My plan was to fire, drop the gun, and run like hell. If the tak didn’t go off, I’d come back and do it again. And again, until ignition. I’d never fired one of those guns, but I knew how to fire rifles at home. I was good. I could shoot. Confidence was high. I took one last deep breath and lined up the bottom crate. Things were about to change forever.
I pulled the trigger.
Click. Nothing happened. I pulled it again. And again. The weapon was no good. Either it was out of ammunition or it was damaged from the battle.
“Oh…so…close,” came a voice from behind me.
My stomach dropped. I felt dizzy. How could it be?
“Like I’ve always said,” the voice said. “Defeat is the worst when it comes at the very moment you think you’ve won.”
I turned slowly to face him. Saint Dane stood in the center of the tunnel, staring at me with his demon blue eyes.
The Pilgrims of Rayne Page 45