“It was destroyed?” asked Loor.
“It sank, I didn’t say it was destroyed,” Spader said.
“Why didn’t you tell us this when you saw the symbol on Magorran?” I asked.
“Because it’s a fable. It was a bedtime story my father used to tell me. I thought he was giving me the symbol so I’d remember our time together. I didn’t think it meant anything more than that! I still don’t!”
“But, what if your father was trying to tell you something?” I said, attempting to keep my mouth from running ahead of my brain. “What if this is more than a children’s story? What if your father discovered that Faar really exists?”
“That’s impossible!” scoffed Spader.
“But if it isn’t,” I continued while holding up the half page. “This could be a map. Or half a map. Your father might have discovered Faar.”
“But Faar isn’t real!” he shouted back at me.
“But if it is,” added Loor, “it would be just the kind of thing Saint Dane would want to destroy especially if it is important to the people of Cloral.”
“Saint Dane!” shouted Spader. He was really worked up now. All the input over the last few days had finally gotten to him. “I don’t know about territories or Travelers or Halla or flumes or any of that scutty-do magic, but there’s one thing you’ve said that makes sense. If this Saint Dane is responsible for poisoning the people of Magorran, then I don’t care why he did it. He killed my father and I’m going to pay for that. Pendragon, take me back to Cloral, now!”
This was going badly. After all we told Spader about being a Traveler and the mission we were on, there was only one thing he took away from it. He wanted revenge on Saint Dane.
I jumped up and said, “You don’t get it. Saint Dane isn’t just some guy you get even with. The dude is like . . . evil. And he has powers—more than you can imagine. He’d kill you before you even know you’re in trouble.”
“He couldn’t be tougher than Loor!” countered Spader. “She’s a warrior. She could come with us and use some of those natty weapons on him.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” I said, trying not to get too frustrated. “You can’t bring things from one territory to the next. We learned that the hard way.”
“Fine!” he shouted. “There are plenty of weapons on Cloral. Let’s just go after him!”
“You can’t go after him!” I shouted back. “One on one, you’ll be dead meat!”
“Then I’ll be dead meat,” said Spader with finality. “But I can’t let my father’s death go unavenged—no matter how big and bad this guy is. Take me back now!”
I had to think fast. Spader was out of control. I had to diffuse this situation, fast, before he did something dumb.
“No,” I said with as much force as I could generate. “I’m tired and I’ll never find the gate in the dark. If you want to go back on your own, knock yourself out. I’m not going back until tomorrow.”
I sat down, picked up my coconut drink, and tried to act casual. It was a major-league bluff and I could only hope that Spader wouldn’t go looking for the gate by himself. I didn’t think he could find it, but you never knew. He stood with his feet firmly planted and his fists balled, weighing his options. Finally he said, “All right. We go back tomorrow. But then I’m going after Saint Dane whether you’re with me or not.”
With that he stormed out. I started to go after him but Loor put a hand on my shoulder.
“Let him walk alone,” she said. “He needs to calm down.”
I sat back down and dropped my coconut drink. I hated coconut.
“Well, that couldn’t have gone any worse,” I said with a false laugh.
“He has spirit,” said Loor.
“Yeah, tell me about it. But if he goes after Saint Dane—”
“You must control him, Pendragon. You know as well as I that Saint Dane will kill him. I do not mean to sound uncaring, but he is no help to us dead.”
“I get it. Between the two of us we can—”
“No,” she said firmly. “I cannot go to Cloral with you.”
That was not what I wanted to hear.
“What do you mean?” I asked incredulously. “We’re Travelers. We help each other. You know ‘the way it was meant to be,’ and all that stuff. Don’t bail on me now!”
“I have not yet found the turning point on Zadaa. But there is growing tension between the Batu and the Rokador. I want to try and stop the trouble before it grows worse. If I am successful then it will be one less battle we have to worry about in the future.”
“Yeah, but what about the battle I’m fighting right now?”
“Your mission now is to control a passionate new Traveler and to solve the mystery of Faar. Think, Pendragon. You are better suited to that task than I. I would simply batter Spader senseless until he was unable to chase Saint Dane.”
Good point. Diplomacy wasn’t high on Loor’s skill list.
“When you need a warrior,” she added, “I will be there. You know that.”
Of course she was right. Loor was always ready to fight, even if fighting wasn’t the smartest way to go. I didn’t need the responsibility of controlling two hotheads. Putting it another way, if she was the brawn of this team, then I was the brains. It was time to start using them.
“Is it possible?” I asked. “Could Spader’s father have found a lost city?”
“After what we have been through,” said Loor, “do you still think anything is impossible?”
The two of us looked to each other and shared a moment of unspoken understanding. We had been through a lot together and we knew there was much more to come. No, nothing was impossible in this new life of ours. The easiest thing to do was accept it.
Loor slept in her bedroom that night and I stretched out on the floor of the main room. She gave me a rough blanket and left an extra in case Spader came back. I’m happy to write that a few hours later, he did. He entered the apartment and lay down in front of the fire. I didn’t say anything because I had no idea what kind of mood he was in. The last thing I wanted was to set him off again.
“Pendragon, you awake?” Spader whispered.
“Yeah.”
“You’re right, mate. I don’t know all the rules of this game yet. Hobey, I don’t even know what the game is. I’m willing to listen to what you think is best.”
Whew, that was a relief. Now I could sleep.
“But you have to know something,” he added. “I will learn from you. I will try and understand what it means to be a Traveler. But if I have a chance to hurt Saint Dane, I’m going to take it.”
“That’s the whole point, Spader,” I said. “We all want to put Saint Dane out of business. But we’ve got to be smart about it. This might sound cold, but there is more at stake here than getting revenge for your father.”
“But he was my father, Pendragon!” he said with emotion. “How can I look past that?”
I didn’t sit up. I didn’t raise my voice. I answered Spader as calmly as possible.
“You’re not the only one who’s been hurt here. Both my parents and my sister are gone. Loor’s mother was killed. We both watched as Saint Dane’s men shot her full of arrows. It hadn’t been easy but we’ve been able to look past it. You’d better have the guts to do it too.”
Spader didn’t respond. I think I nailed him right between the eyes. Yes, we had all lost loved ones. Spader didn’t have a monopoly on that particular horror. I could only hope that he now understood that the only hope we had of defeating Saint Dane was by fighting the larger battle, together.
I was too exhausted to think anymore. It had been an incredibly long day. I needed to sleep, so that’s what I did.
We all got up before the sun. Loor started a fire and cooked us more of that incredible bread, along with a half dozen eggs. At least I thought they were eggs. They were green and looked more like something you would see in a Dr. Seuss book than on a menu at Denny’s. Still, they were good and I was st
arving. We needed to eat every chance we had because we couldn’t be sure where our next meal would come from.
It was now time to get going. Spader stood before Loor and said, “Thank you for helping me understand, and for holding my father’s note. I guess we’ll see each other again.”
“We will,” she said. Then added, “Trust Pendragon. He is the light we all need to follow.”
That caught me by surprise. What did she mean by that? It sounded like a compliment, but it also sounded like she was expecting way too much from me. Spader looked to me and I’ll bet he was wondering the same thing. He then nodded and left us alone.
“What was that about the light and the following?” I asked her.
She scoffed, saying, “I wanted to make sure Spader listened to you. That is all.”
Oh. Okay. That was cool. I guess.
“When you need me,” she added, “I will be there.”
“Thanks for helping with Spader,” I said. “I was lost there for a while.”
“Your instincts are good, Pendragon,” she said. “Someday you will realize that.”
I nodded and backed out of the room. This was the second time I had to say good-bye to Loor, and it wasn’t any easier. Still, I knew where to find her if need be.
Spader and I walked back toward the gate without saying much. I had to concentrate in order to retrace our steps through the city. It helped that my ring was doing a hot-cold thing to help guide us. With only a few wrong turns, we finally found the building with the ramp that led down to the underground river.
I really wanted to avoid running into that guy who worked the knob-and-lever gizmo. I didn’t want to have to answer any more questions. But as luck would have it, the guy was there again, still checking his plans, still spinning his controls. What a boring job. We tried to sneak by without being noticed but—
“Are you lost again?” he said without looking at us.
“No,” I said with authority. “Just passing through.”
“Do you believe me now?” he asked.
“Uh . . . about what?”
“About the Batu. They are liars and barbarians. I hope you found that so-called friend of yours and told them I said so.”
Loor was right. There was definitely bad blood between the Rokador and the Batu. I hoped she had luck in diffusing it.
“Yeah,” I lied. “Thanks for the advice.”
The man didn’t say another word. I motioned to Spader and we continued on through the tunnel that led to the waterfall. Once we had gotten away from the roar of the water, Spader said, “I understood.”
“What do you mean?”
“The guy back there. When he first started talking it sounded like: ‘Shshaa shashaaa shashaaa’ or something. But then all of a sudden he started making sense. I understood what he said about the Rokador and the Batu. What happened?”
I had to smile. “What happened is that you’re becoming a Traveler.”
Next stop, Cloral.
SECOND EARTH
The telephone rang, making both Mark and Courtney jump. When they were reading Bobby’s journals they both became so immersed in the adventure that there own world seemed to slip away. But a jangling telephone is a surefire way to bring anyone back to the here and now.
Unfortunately for Courtney, they were reading the journal in Mark’s bedroom. Though Mark did his best to excavate all of his crusty sweat socks and half-eaten cheddar cheese (extra sharp) sandwiches, the room was still in need of professional fumigation. The good news was that Courtney’s gag reflex stopped when she got used to the putrid smell. The bad news was that she was afraid there were noxious gases eating away at her brain. Her goal was to read quick and get out fast.
They had been displaced from Courtney’s basement because Courtney’s father was actually going to attempt to make something in his workshop. That was always cause for worry in the Chetwynde house. Nothing good ever happened when Mr. Chetwynde decided to swing a hammer. Things usually got broken. When the telephone rang, Courtney’s first thought was: “Dad hurt himself! He’s headed for the emergency room.” She had absolutely no faith in her father’s handyman abilities.
Mark had to answer the phone because nobody else was home.
“Hello?”
“What’s the deal, Dimond?” snarled a familiar voice.
The call wasn’t about Courtney’s father, it was Andy Mitchell. He was actually calling Mark’s house. Mark wondered how Mitchell got his telephone number. Not that it was tough to get, but he couldn’t picture Mitchell figuring out how to do something as complex as using a telephone book.
“Hey!” answered Mark with false friendliness. “How’s it going?”
Mark was trapped. He didn’t want to say anything that would make Courtney suspicious about what was going on with Mitchell. He knew she wouldn’t continue reading the journal without Mark, so she had nothing to do but listen to his conversation. Mark fought his rising panic and pressed the phone closer to his ear so Courtney couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation.
“You tell me,” answered Mitchell. Mark could hear him snort and spit. “We have a deal, remember?”
“Uhhh, of course I do,” answered Mark, trying to sound all innocent.
“So what’s the problem?” asked Mitchell.
“No problem, everything’s cool.” He looked to Courtney and held up a finger as if to say: “I’ll be off in a second.”
Courtney shrugged. No biggie.
“So when am I gonna see the other journals?”
“Uhhh, let’s see. How about . . . tomorrow?”
“How about in an hour?”
Mark’s stomach twisted. “Okay, that’s good too. Tell you what, I’m kinda doing my homework now. But I should be done in an hour. Why don’t you call me back then?”
Mitchell hung up abruptly. Mark didn’t know what to do. If he just put the phone down, Courtney would wonder what happened. So he pretended to still be on the call.
“Uh-huh. Yeah. Sounds good. Okay, talk to you later. Bye.”
Mark hung up the phone and hoped that Courtney only cared about getting back to reading the journal.
She didn’t.
“Who was that?” she asked. Of course she did.
Mark hated lying. He wasn’t good at it. He now had to get very good, very fast.
“Friend of mine,” he answered, trying to sound casual. “He needs some help with homework. A-Algebra.”
The instant Mark said that, he wished he hadn’t. Up to that point he’d been cool, but when he made the full-on lie, when he said “algebra,” he stuttered. Courtney caught it, too. He saw it in her eyes. Was she going to bust him on it? Courtney stared at him for a moment, then shrugged.
“Whatever,” she said. “Can we get back to the journal?”
“Sure, yeah, of course.”
Mark sat back down on the bed. He felt horrible. He hated lying to her, but was too embarrassed to tell her the truth. He was being blackmailed and had no idea how he was going to get out of it. If Courtney found out now, he was certain she’d lose all faith in him. It was a horrible position to be in. But for now at least, he could forget his own problem and lose himself in Bobby’s problems.
“What do you think of this Faar place?” Courtney asked.
“If it’s real, then destroying it would be the perfect, evil thing for Saint Dane to do. From what Spader said it’s a legend that everybody on Cloral knows. It’s part of their culture. If Saint Dane finds it and destroys it, it would be like pulling the rug out from under an entire territory. If the place is already a mess because of the food shortage, then the whole territory could crumble.”
“Which is what Saint Dane wants,” added Courtney.
“Exactly.”
“Let’s read,” said Mark.
“Yeah, you’ve got an algebra lesson to get to.”
This stung Mark, but he couldn’t let it show. It was time to focus on Bobby.
JOURNAL #7
(CONTINUED)
CLORAL
We found the gate easily enough by following the signals sent from my ring. I opened the trapdoor and let Spader go down first into the crevice that led to the flume, then followed right behind.
When I was halfway down, I heard something off to my right. Remember, we were climbing down using footholds that were dug into the rock walls. It was like descending through a black cave. The crevice was only wide enough for one person, but it stretched off to either side for I don’t know how far. It was too dark to tell. So when I heard something move off to my right, I froze. It wasn’t a loud sound, it was more like a small pebble had been knocked into the crevice. Though it was a small sound, something had caused it. Something was out there in the darkness.
I cautiously looked to where I’d heard the sound, and was faced with two yellow eyes staring right back at me. Yikes! They were small, but that didn’t matter. We were near a flume and that could mean only one thing: quigs. I had no idea what kind of beastie was behind those nasty eyes, but it wasn’t going to be some harmless teddy bear.
My fear was that the slightest movement would push it into attack mode. My brain locked. I didn’t know what to do.
Luckily Spader did. I felt him shoot up from below and reach out toward the yellow eyes. Before I could warn him, the yellow eyes were gone! I heard a loud crack, and that was it.
“W-What just happened?” I asked shakily.
“I got it, mate,” answered Spader.
We both hurried down the rest of the way until we reached the cavern. There, lying at the foot of the rock wall, was the quig. It was the nastiest looking snake I had ever seen. It was about four feet long with a hooded head. All along its back were smaller versions of the sharp spines that the bear quigs had on Denduron. But most important, it was dead. Spader had snapped it like a whip.
The Lost City of Faar Page 17