The Pilgrims of Rayne

by D. J. MacHale

  “And you really did think you’d won, didn’t you?” he asked with glee.

  JOURNAL #32

  IBARA

  “This moment is particularly satisfying, Pendragon,” Saint Dane sneered with his superior attitude. “I knew you’d eventually come down from your righteous pedestal and get yourself…how should I say it?…dirty. You’ve finally realized the only way to save Halla is to make it one. It’s what I’ve been saying all along. The true glory of Halla will come with unity. Only then can the ultimate victory be achieved.”

  “Victory?” I asked. “Victory over what? You talk about saving Halla and breaking down walls between territories, but…why? What’s the point?”

  “Surely you must have some idea by now,” the demon asked, amused.

  Explosions rumbled above. This wasn’t the time to be interrogating Saint Dane, but he was saying things I hadn’t heard before.

  “You said you were trying to prove the people of the territories weren’t capable of guiding their own destiny. Who are you trying to prove it to?”

  “You’re getting warmer,” he teased.

  My mind raced. I was closer to the truth than ever before, and it scared the hell out of me. More than the tak arrows exploding above.

  “What happens after the Convergence?” I demanded. “If you have your way and the territories fall under your influence, what then? Is that it? Is that the whole point? You become the king of all territories?”

  He chuckled. “Something like that.”

  “Then who’s the king now?” I asked flat-out.

  Saint Dane took a step closer to me. I could feel the chill coming off him. I didn’t move. “And now you finally see the truth,” he hissed.

  “I don’t see anything. What truth?”

  His eyes were locked on mine. When he spoke, it was with a seething intensity that I had never seen from him. “There is a new order coming, Pendragon. Halla is only the beginning.”

  I nearly fainted. Could that be true? There was something greater than Halla? How could that be? I did all that I could to keep my voice from cracking and said, “I’m going to stop you. Right here, right now.”

  Saint Dane sneered. “There are a few thousand dados above us who might take issue with that.”

  “This isn’t about armies,” I said with total confidence. “Or weapons. It’s about right and wrong. No matter how you twist it, your way is wrong.”

  Explosions pounded above. The tunnel shuddered.

  “No,” Saint Dane said. “It is about armies and weapons. And fear. And strength. Fear is my greatest weapon. Halla will be my strength. That is the way it was meant to be, because it is the way I will make it.”

  There was only one thing to do. I turned and ran. Not away from Saint Dane. I ran toward the tak. I had to detonate it. I didn’t get far. The demon tackled me from behind. After all the battles. All the mysteries and miseries. The territories lost and those that were saved. The deaths and the resurrections. It had come down to this. A fight between Saint Dane and me. I scrambled to get loose, but he held me tightly in his cold hands.

  “Time is not your friend, Pendragon,” he hissed. “They cannot hold the dados back much longer.”

  I drove my elbow into his nose. He screamed in pain. Man, it felt good. I wanted him to hurt. He reeled back. I broke loose. I only got a few steps before he grabbed me again, and threw me against the wall. He was fast. Inhumanly fast. I hit so hard that I broke stones loose from the tunnel. They fell on my head and rolled at my feet.

  The tunnel rumbled under the explosions that were now coming quickly. I had to get to the tak. Alder wouldn’t be able to keep the dados pinned for long. I picked up a stone and faked throwing it at Saint Dane. He threw his hands up in defense, and I attacked. I launched myself at him feetfirst, my body parallel to the ground. Both feet hit him square in the chest, knocking him back into the side of the tunnel. He grunted, but bounced off the wall and came right at me. I didn’t expect that. He was just so fast. He grabbed me in a bear hug and wrestled me to the ground. He was strong, too. I couldn’t break loose. In seconds I was on my back with Saint Dane sitting on my chest. His knees pinned my arms. I tried to kick, but had no leverage. I was trapped.

  The guy’s eyes were on fire. He was out of control. From somewhere he pulled out a three-clawed tang knife. I only glimpsed it for a second before he brought it down and held it to my neck. He stared down at me, breathing hard, a touch of spittle dripping from his mouth. The red scars on his bald head pulsed with blood…or whatever it was that ran through his veins.

  “Are you so misguided that you are ready to die for your beliefs?” he spat.

  I fought to get away, but he pressed harder. The pressure from the knife was choking me.

  “You’ve lost, Pendragon,” he hissed with more than a touch of insanity. “You no longer matter.”

  I was going to die. I wasn’t afraid. I really wasn’t. I believed what I’d told Siry. And I believed what Saint Dane had told me. Travelers were illusions, and in some twisted way, I wanted to know what that meant.

  “Ahhhhh!” came a wild scream.

  Saint Dane was knocked off me as if he’d been hit by a speeding car. He flew over my head and rolled on the ground, along with the driving force that slammed into him….

  Siry.

  “Hurry!” he screamed at me as he wrestled with the demon Traveler.

  Siry had no idea how to fight. It didn’t matter. He was unstoppable. Saint Dane tried to pull away from him, but Siry tied him up long enough for me to stand and see something resting on top of the abandoned bow. Siry had brought back three tak arrows.

  Explosions shook the tunnel. It was time. I ran for the bow. Saint Dane wouldn’t be held back for long. I’d be lucky to get off one shot. It had to count. I grabbed one of the arrows with my right hand and the bow with the other. I hadn’t shot a bow and arrow in a long time, but I didn’t think it would matter. That was the thing about tak, you didn’t have to hit the bull’s-eyes. Close was close enough.

  Moving quickly but carefully, I stood up straight, my left shoulder facing down the tunnel. I nocked the arrow onto the string. I had to stay focused. There would only be one chance. A fumble now would be disastrous.

  Saint Dane finally pulled away from Siry. He twisted toward me, still on his back. I could feel his rage. He would be up and on me in seconds. With my left arm out straight, I lifted the bow and pulled the string back until I felt the feathery tail tickling my cheek.

  Saint Dane struggled to get to his feet.

  “Pendragon!” Siry shouted.

  “Stay down,” I commanded calmly.

  I was ready. In a second Saint Dane would be in the way. I had to let it fly. The instant before I released it, Saint Dane’s head snapped back and he fell forward, hitting the ground face-first. Siry had tackled him from behind.

  “Shoot!” Siry screamed.

  “This is the end,” I said, and let it fly.

  An instant later Saint Dane melted into smoke and blew past me. Siry and I were alone, fifty yards from Armageddon.

  “Run!” I screamed, and did just that.

  I dropped the bow and took off. Siry was right behind me. We sprinted for our lives. The first sound I heard was a short, crisp hiss. I’d heard that sound before. The tak was igniting. A second later…

  The world erupted behind us. The tunnel lit up with the fire from the explosion. I felt the heat and then heard the blast. It was unbearable. A quick glance back showed a fireball coming up the tunnel behind us. The floor shook, making it hard to run. I thought we’d be cooked, but we hit one of the smaller cross-tunnels and dove out of the way as the force of the blast shot past us. The monstrous wave of fire blew by, its heat scorching my face. I thought my clothes would ignite. We had dodged the fire, but the force of the explosion was tearing the tunnel apart. Rocks and sand fell around us. It was like being underground in the middle of an earthquake. The main tunnel was an inferno. We had to run deeper into
the cross-tunnel.

  “There’s gotta be another way out,” I said, pushing Siry forward.

  The ground shook, throwing us off balance. The ancient tunnel couldn’t handle it. Rocks pummeled us. We held our arms over our heads as we ran. Behind us the tunnel collapsed. If there wasn’t another way out ahead of us, we would be buried.

  We were buried.

  The tunnel ahead of us collapsed too.

  “Under there!” I yelled, and pushed Siry beneath a section of fallen roof. Or floor. Or something. It was a long, thick piece of rock that had fallen leaving a small opening beneath. It looked strong enough to protect us from anything falling from above, so long as the rock itself didn’t give way and crush us. Siry and I squeezed into the space under the collapsed section and huddled together, waiting for the end. A world of rock and sand rained down on us. I could barely breathe. My lungs felt like they were filling with dust. Siry and I held each other close. We would either survive, or be crushed. Together.

  Thirty seconds. That’s my guess as to how long the entire event took from the time the tak ignited, to the moment when the rumble died down. It was a thirty-second lifetime. But we were both still breathing. Barely. There wasn’t much air. Neither of us moved for the longest time, for fear of bumping something that might trigger a collapse.

  “Is it over?” Siry asked meekly.

  I peered out between my two crossed arms. There was a whole lot of nothing to see. Slowly, cautiously, I poked my head out from beneath the rock slab. The air was filled with dust and dirt, making it impossible to see anything…except dust and dirt. I lifted my shirt and held it over my mouth to try and keep some of the debris from going into my lungs. Slowly, painfully, the air began to clear. After a few agonizing minutes I got my first look at what we had to deal with.

  I laughed.

  “What?” Siry asked.

  The tunnel had collapsed on either side of us. It turned out to be a good thing. I saw a faint shaft of sunlight peeking through the carnage. As the dust settled completely, I saw a sliver of blue sky.

  “We can climb out!” I cried.

  I reached back, took Siry’s outstretched hand, and pulled him from our temporary shelter. We scrambled up a steep pitch of rocks that soon gave way to sand. In no time we were on the surface, staring at Tribunal Mountain. Intact.

  “Look!” Siry said, pointing above us.

  On the rocky ledges of the mountain were people. The people of Rayne. They were alive. They had survived the blast. They crowded together, silently looking out over their village…and their future.

  JOURNAL #32

  IBARA

  Siry and I climbed out of the ruins of the tunnel and made our way back toward Tribunal Mountain. A cloud of smoke and sand hung over the village behind us, making it impossible to see what damage the tak bomb had done. One thing I saw right away was that the ground wasn’t the same. The force of the explosion really did act like an earthquake. The shock waves were probably carried along by the tunnel. Whatever. The result was that we couldn’t find the path back to the mountain, because there was no path. At least, it didn’t look much like a path anymore.

  “Pendragon!” came a welcome shout.

  It was Alder. Alive. He ran to us from out of the swirling dust. It was the most beautiful sight I could have asked for. His big smile beamed through the smoke. When he got to us, we all hugged.

  The brave knight from Denduron pulled back and asked, “Hey, did you hear that?”

  Siry and I stared at him blankly.

  “It was a joke,” Alder said quickly. “You are not the only one with a sense of humor, Pendragon.”

  Alder had made a joke. A dumb joke, but a joke.

  “Wow,” I laughed. “I guess it’s official. Halla is never going to be the same.”

  He gave me a friendly cuff on the shoulder.

  “What about the dados?” Siry asked.

  “It was difficult holding them back,” Alder answered, his joking finished. “There were more of them in the second wave. Many more. We couldn’t have kept them back much longer.”

  “I want to see,” I said.

  Alder led us over chunks of debris that had been pushed up from underground. It seemed most of the rocky tunnel was now on the surface. Still, there was so much dust and debris in the air, I couldn’t see more than a few feet ahead of us.

  “The archers were heroic,” Alder said as we picked our way through. “I have fought beside warriors who had more skill, but none as brave. Even as the number of dados grew, they did not flinch. I ran between positions, showing them where to direct their arrows to best keep the dados off balance. I could not be everywhere. They quickly learned on their own.”

  “So what happened when the tak exploded?” Siry asked.

  “I told them that when they felt the ground rumble, that was the sign. When it came, they did not hesitate. They dropped their weapons and ran back. The ground felt as if it were growing under our feet. It threw us forward like a wave, but I do not believe there were any serious injuries. We were lucky.”

  “And the dados?” I asked.

  He led us to a huge mound of sand and rock that hadn’t been there earlier. The three of us climbed to the top to get a better view of the battlefield. Or what was left of it.

  The smoke hung like a spooky haze over all we could see. When the tropical breeze thinned it enough to make out detail, my mind wouldn’t accept what I was seeing. I thought there must be some mistake.

  “It’s gone,” Siry gasped in awe.

  The village of Rayne no longer existed. In its place was a mess of destroyed huts and fallen trees. Directly in front of us was a huge blast crater.

  “They were directly over the tak,” Alder said. “Thousands of them. Many more pushed up from the rear. I believe they no longer exist. I do not know the word for it.”

  “Vaporized,” I said.

  “Yes,” Alder agreed. “Those who were not vaporized were blown into small bits. Perhaps some escaped back to the sea, but there could not have been many.”

  Siry looked at me, and spoke as if in a daze. “Is it possible? Did we destroy an entire army?”

  “That is exactly what we did,” Alder declared. “Ibara is safe.”

  I stepped away from them and looked over the remains of the village. Yes, we had won. Against incredible odds. I should have felt like celebrating. I didn’t. I was relieved, sure, but I wasn’t in the mood for throwing any high fives. The battle was over. Saint Dane was defeated. But at what cost? Rayne was destroyed. It would take generations to bring it back. Just as important, the second turning point of Veelox had gone the wrong way. As dramatic as the dado battle was, it was not the turning point. The turning point had been when the Flighters destroyed the pilgrim ships. The rest of Veelox could not be rebuilt for a good long time. To me it felt like a case of winning the battle, but losing the war.

  Most troubling of all was knowing what I had to do to win this battle. I had lowered myself to Saint Dane’s level by using technology and elements from other territories. Was it all worth it? Was Ibara a win or a loss? As I stood there looking at the destruction, I wasn’t so sure.

  I heard the sound of a sharp caw! overhead. Looking up, I saw a large black bird sailing over the village, as if inspecting the damage. I knew who it was. He had lost his army, but he would fight again. What would his next evil plan be? And the next? And the one after that? Was this war going to continue until he finally found the way to bring about the Convergence that would put Halla under his control? And after that, what? What did he mean by Halla being “the beginning”? What else was out there? It all felt so incredibly hopeless.

  As I stood on that mound, surveying the results of a questionable victory, I realized that the battle wasn’t over. There was more to do on Ibara.

  “We’ve got to get back to the mountain now,” I said to Alder and Siry.

  “Why?” Siry asked. “It’s over!”

  “No, it isn’t.”

>   “What are you saying, Pendragon?” Alder asked.

  I looked my friend dead in the eye and said, “We’re going after Saint Dane.”

  The three of us ran as quickly as possible through the rubble of Rayne, headed for Tribunal Mountain. We worked our way through the scores of wounded archers to find the last remaining crate of tak. While Alder carried it outside, I instructed Siry to get the remaining dado weapons. Finally, I took a bow from one of the wounded archers, along with two of his arrows.

  “What is your plan, Pendragon?” Alder asked me.

  “First we get to the flume.”

  When Siry returned with the weapons, we set out for the beach. Moving through the remains of the village was depressing. So many years of work had been destroyed in seconds. By me. I wasn’t proud of myself. We took turns carrying the crate of tak, because it was awkward and heavy. When we got to the beach I was surprised to see that the rocky cliffs that contained the flume were still intact. The power of the explosion hadn’t touched them. The dygo was parked at the mouth of the newly drilled tunnel, right where we’d left it.

  I took a moment to look out onto the ocean. The blue-green waters were as calm as ever. It was hard to imagine that not long ago an armada of dados had come across it. It actually gave me hope that at some point, Ibara could be returned to its original beauty. Hopefully the same could be said for the rest of Veelox. It was that hope that convinced me I was about to do the right thing.

  “First we’re going to return these things to their own territories,” I said. “Siry, can you drive the dygo?”

  “Absolutely!”

  “Bring it back to Zadaa. Alder, you bring these weapons back to Quillan. Leave them at the gate. Same thing with the dygo. Leave it at the gate and get out.”

  “Does the tak stay?” Siry asked. “Is that how we’re going to get Saint Dane?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “The tak stays.”

  “Why is this so important, Pendragon?” Alder asked.

  “It was bad enough that we brought this here in the first place,” I answered. “I want it gone now. All of it.”