Raven Rise

by D. J. MacHale

  It was a skimmer. The same kind of skimmer that Saint Dane had brought from Cloral by the thousands to transport the dados from Rubic City to attack Rayne. I stood staring at the craft, trying to understand why it was there. It wasn’t under power, that much was clear. It was drifting in the current, moving closer to shore. I thought that it might have been one of the skimmers that we had scuttled out at sea when we dumped all the wreckage from the beach. Maybe it had somehow floated to the surface and was now a piece of loose debris that we would need to haul back out.

  I was wrong. As the craft got closer, I saw that someone was on board. At least I thought it was someone. It was hard to tell. Skimmer pilots controlled the craft while standing up. Whoever was on that skimmer was definitely not standing. In fact, they looked as if they were lying out flat on the deck. Whoever or whatever it was, it wasn’t controlling the skimmer.

  I quickly scrambled down the rocks. The whole way down I feared what I might find. Was it another dado that had somehow gotten lost and was only now showing up for the battle? Was it a Flighter who was making an attempt to land on Ibara? Was this something we should be afraid of, or just another piece of carnage left over from the battle? I had to force myself to stop worrying and concentrate on climbing down the steep rocks. Falling would have been dumb. And painful.

  I hit the sand and ran the rest of the way to the water. The craft was about fifty yards offshore. I could now see that there was a body on board, facedown. It didn’t look like a dado. The hair was too long. Dados didn’t have long hair. Robot hair didn’t grow. I figured it must have been a Flighter. Whoever it was, the guy was in bad shape. Or dead. I was torn. Should I go out and drag the thing to shore? I didn’t want to be helping anyone who might cause trouble. But there was only one person aboard. Flighters traveled in packs, like wolves. It might not have been a Flighter, but somebody from Rayne who somehow got cast adrift. One thing was sure: If the person was alive, they needed help. I decided to risk it. I ran into the water and did the crawl out to the craft, always keeping my head above water and my eyes on the skimmer. Junior Lifeguard training never leaves you.

  The closer I got, the more detail I could make out, but I still couldn’t tell if it was a guy or a girl. Whoever it was had long blond hair. Their clothes were in shreds. There was a definite Flighter vibe going on. I suddenly felt vulnerable. If this was a trick, the Flighter could easily jump up, gun the engine, and run me over. I stopped about five yards away and treaded water.

  “Hello?” I called. “You okay?”

  The body stirred.

  “Can you talk?” I called.

  The victim lifted his chin. The blond hair fell in front of his face. He twisted his head, as if trying to understand where my voice was coming from.

  “Who are you?” I called.

  The person on the skimmer yelled out a word that I can only describe as somewhere between a hoarse croak and a cry of agony.

  “Help,” he called.

  I didn’t hesitate a second more and swam for the craft. It may have been a trap, but so what? I grabbed on to the side rails and looked up at the horrible, sunburned face.

  “Who are you?” I called.

  The guy could barely move. He reached up a hand and pushed the blond hair away from one eye. A lifeless eye. He was blind. His face was blistered. It was a hideous sight. I had no idea who the poor guy was.

  “Did I make it?” he asked hoarsely.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Where are you trying to go?”

  The guy smiled. I think I had answered his question.

  “Pendragon,” he gasped with obvious relief.

  I froze. He had recognized my voice. He knew me.

  “Where else would I want to go but home to Ibara?” he croaked.

  It was when he said the word “home” that the truth hit me. It was impossible. It couldn’t be. But it was.

  “Loque?” I asked in dismay.

  The guy nodded. I couldn’t move. Loque was dead. I saw him die in a crushing avalanche of shattered glass. Yet he was there, lying on the skimmer. Back home.

  Alive.

  I looked into his dead eye. He nodded. My heart hurt. It actually hurt. There were so many emotions going on. I had to fight off both laughing and crying. He pulled himself over to the edge of the craft until his lips were right next to my ear and whispered the few words that I really didn’t want to hear.

  “They’re coming.”

  It took every last bit of gas in his tank to say those words. Once the message was delivered, he passed out.

  JOURNAL #34

  (CONTINUED)

  IBARA

  Loque was alive. Barely. I wasn’t sure if I should be happy or terrified. The idea of the Jakill making it all the way back to Ibara only to die within sight of shore was unthinkable. And what did he mean by “They’re coming”? Who was coming? When? Why? It didn’t sound like a good thing. I didn’t think Loque would fight to stay alive just to deliver a casual message that some friendly folks were going to drop in for a visit.

  “Loque!” I cried, shaking him. “Who’s coming?”

  He didn’t budge. He was gone. With one hand I grabbed the edge of the skimmer. With the other I paddled furiously toward shore. Within minutes I hit the beach and dragged the craft onto the sand. A quick check for a pulse told me he was still with me. But for how long?

  “Help!” I screamed, hoping somebody was within earshot. “Somebody!”

  I was lucky. Or rather Loque was lucky. A young kid was wandering toward the beach to fish. I waved him over. When he got close enough to hear me, I yelled, “We need a doctor.”

  The kid stood staring at me, his eyes wide.

  “Now!” I shouted, shocking him into action. He sprinted back toward the village.

  I waited for help to come, not sure of what to do. His heart was beating, so he didn’t need CPR. All I could do was make him comfortable. I thought back to what had happened with Loor in the caves below Zadaa. She was dead. A sword had been driven through her heart. But I held her in my arms and willed her to stay alive. It was a ridiculously desperate thing to do, except for the fact that it worked. Loor somehow survived with no injuries. To this day I don’t know how that happened. Could I do it again? I put my hand over Loque’s heart, but had no idea how to go about healing somebody. I closed my eyes and repeated to myself, “Don’t die, don’t die, don’t die.”

  The good news is that he didn’t die on that beach, but I don’t think it had anything to do with me. There was no miraculous recovery. No instant healing. If anything, his heartbeat grew fainter. That meant that whatever happened with Loor, it wasn’t because I had magical healing power. The mystery of why she came back to life would continue.

  It wasn’t long before several men and women came running toward us from the village. I recognized one as a doctor that Telleo worked with. Man, what a relief. Loque had a chance. An hour later he was lying in a cavern medical room in the base of Tribunal Mountain. I waited outside to get a report on how he was doing. Between the doctors and Telleo, I knew he was in good hands. If he had any chance of surviving, these were the guys who would pull him through. It was torture sitting alone, waiting for news. All the memories of that nightmare in Rubic City came back to me.

  Loque was Siry’s best friend. I guess you could call him the second-in-command of the Jakills. Siry was the leader of the young rebels and didn’t want anything to do with me, or with being a Traveler. It was Loque who calmed Siry down. He was the strong voice of reason to the tightly wound, angry Siry. If not for Loque, Siry might never have accepted his role as a Traveler, which led to the saving of Ibara. Loque was a hero, which made the memories of that horrible day all the more painful. Twig had been captured by the Flighters. Siry, Loque, and I were on the run. We hid in the ruins of a massive cathedral-like structure with Flighters swarming all around us. When we thought they were gone, it was Loque who took it upon himself to scout around, to see if it was safe for us to come out of
hiding. I’ll never forget seeing him standing in front of that massive wall of stained-glass and noticing the ominous shadow outside. The cannon. We realized what was happening, but too late. The Flighters shot the glass wall, shattering it into a billion pieces that rained down on Loque.

  How could he have survived that? The only one who could answer that question was Loque, and he was barely clinging to life. The guy deserved to live. His sacrifice and vision helped save Ibara. He was a brave and loyal friend. For me, I wanted there to be one less victim of Saint Dane’s vicious crusade.

  I had been waiting around for a few hours, writing my journal, when Telleo finally came to talk to me.

  “It doesn’t look good,” she said sadly. “He was in surgery for a long time. He’s lost a lot of blood. Being exposed to the elements out on the water didn’t help. He’s totally burned.”

  “His eyes?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” Telleo said somberly. “Losing his vision may be the least of his troubles.”

  “When will we know?” I asked.

  “Every moment he stays alive, his chances for survival increase” was Telleo’s professional answer. “We’ll see if he makes it through the night, and then reevaluate in the morning.”

  She sat down and put her arm around me. I didn’t fight her. She clicked out of professional mode and into friend mode. “This is hard, especially with Siry gone,” she said with compassion. “I know how much Loque meant to him.”

  “Loque helped save Ibara,” I said.

  “We’ll do all we can to save him,” Telleo assured me.

  She held me tighter. I think she wanted me to hug her back, so I gave her a quick hug, but then pulled away and stood up. Telleo seemed a little surprised but didn’t say anything.

  “Can I see him?” I asked.

  “He’s sleeping. Better not disturb him.”

  I nodded. “Okay. I’ll be back in the morning. I’m glad you’re here for him, Telleo. Siry would be happy about that.”

  Telleo smiled. “I did all I could for the Jakills. You know that.”

  I nodded, and left Tribunal Mountain to find a quiet spot near the beach to lie down and sleep. There was nothing I could do to help Loque. Knowing that he was in good hands, my mind went to the two words he’d said to me.

  “They’re coming.”

  Two simple words. What did they mean? Should I be worried? Or should I dismiss them as the fevered ramblings of a very sick guy? It was yet another reason why I didn’t want Loque to die. I had to know what he meant. I don’t know how long I lay there under the stars, rolling the possibilities around in my head. At some point I know I fell asleep, but that’s only because in the middle of the night I was suddenly shaken awake.

  “Pendragon!” a frantic voice called. “Wake up! It’s Loque!”

  I forced myself back to reality and looked up into the wild eyes of Twig.

  “What?” I mumbled. “Is he awake?”

  “He’s dying!” she shouted, and ran back toward Tribunal Mountain.

  I was running before I was awake. I passed Twig and sprinted up the sand path toward the mountain. The village was asleep. Good thing. If anybody got in my way, I would have knocked ’em down. I ran into the cave at the base of the mountain and sprinted through the tunnels, directly to the medical area. People were hurrying in and out of the cavern room where Loque was staying. Something was happening. I didn’t wait to get permission. I barged right in. Twig followed close behind.

  Loque was surrounded by several medical people, including Telleo. He was leaning over the bed, being held up by two of the stronger-looking guys. I don’t know how else to say this so I’ll just say it straight out: He was puking. I mean seriously puking. Telleo had a hand on his forehead as his entire body shuddered with each heave.

  “It’s okay,” Telleo said to him soothingly. “Let it go. You’ll feel better.”

  Another doctor walked in. I grabbed him and said, “What happened?”

  “Overdose” was the answer. “It’s a good thing one of the nurses checked on him. He was convulsing. We’ve induced the vomiting to clear out what we can. This is the last thing he needed.”

  Overdose. How could that have happened? The poor guy was clinging to life. He relied on these doctors. To die because of getting too much medication was just…wrong.

  After a few minutes Loque’s puking turned into the dry heaves. His stomach was empty, but his mind didn’t know it.

  “Let’s lay him down,” Telleo instructed the others.

  The medical personnel got him back onto the pillow. He lay on his back, breathing hard. Telleo looked across the room. We made eye contact. She shook her head gravely.

  “Stay with him,” she ordered another one of the nurses, and went for the door.

  “You too,” I said to Twig.

  I followed Telleo and caught her outside.

  “What happened?” I demanded.

  Telleo looked as shaken as I felt. “I don’t know,” she said nervously. “Wrong dosage. Wrong medicine. It could have been anything.”

  “That’s not good enough, Telleo!” I bellowed. “He deserves better than that.”

  “I know!” Telleo shouted in tears. “I’m going to stay with him. Nobody will touch him but me. I’ll double-check everything the doctors do from now on.”

  “Will there be a ‘from now on’?” I asked.

  “We may have purged him in time. I can’t say for sure.”

  This time I didn’t leave the mountain. I sat outside of Loque’s door and slept right there. If something was going to happen to him, I wanted to be close. I sent Twig home. There was no sense in both of us sleeping on rock. I was angry. Loque had been through hell. Mistakes can happen, but it didn’t seem fair that after all that, he should die because somebody made a dumb mistake. I wished there was somebody I could yell at, but nobody knew who was responsible. They said that it could have been anybody, or a combination of people. Or or or—it didn’t matter. Between Telleo and me, we were going to make sure that Loque was taken care of properly. Everything would be double-checked and second-guessed. How could they say no to me? I was on the tribunal!

  I spent the rest of the night dozing in front of Loque’s doorway. The floor was hard rock. The wall was hard rock. There was nothing comfortable about it, but I wasn’t going to move. Whenever somebody tried to go into the room, I immediately woke up and asked what they were going to do. Some gave him medicine. Others were just checking to make sure he was okay. When morning came, I didn’t know it. I was out cold. Literally. The rock floor was freezing. It didn’t matter. I probably would have slept for a few more hours if one of the nurses hadn’t gently shaken me awake.

  “Huh?” I gurgled.

  “He wants to talk to you,” she said softly.

  “What? Who?”

  “Who do you think?” she said with a smile.

  The smile gave it away. I took a deep breath, rubbed my face, and jumped up to go inside. Loque was lying flat on his back. He didn’t look any more awake than he had on the beach. Had I just dreamed that the nurse asked me to come in?

  “Pendragon?” came a hoarse whisper.

  I ran to the side of the bed, my heart racing. “Don’t talk,” I said.

  “I’m tired of not talking,” Loque said. “Can you give me a drink of water?”

  I looked to the nurse who stood at the foot of the bed. She nodded. I thought she was going to cry. I wasn’t sure if they were tears of joy, or grief that the guy was on his way out. I grabbed a small cup from the side of the bed and held it to his lips. Loque took a few small sips, coughed, but got most of it down.

  “Thanks.” The little bit of water helped to clear his voice.

  Loque had bandages over his eyes. His skin looked just as nasty and red as I’d remembered. The blisters from the sunburn were gruesome and painful looking. But he was alive. For how long I didn’t know. I struggled for words to say to him. There was so much I needed to know. All I got out was o
ne simple question: “How?”

  “You mean how come I’m not dead?”

  I nodded, then realized he couldn’t see me. Idiot. “Yes,” I answered.

  “Luck.”

  I glanced back to the nurse. She didn’t need to hear any of this. “Can I talk to him alone?” I asked. The nurse hesitated, but she wasn’t about to say no to a member of the tribunal. It’s good to be a boss. She nodded and left.

  I turned back to Loque. “The Flighters shot a cannon into the stained-glass wall,” I said, bringing us both back to the moment of truth.

  “I figured it was something like that,” Loque whispered. “All I knew was that the whole world exploded. I looked up to see colors raining down on me. I wish I hadn’t.”

  He slowly lifted his hand and touched one of his bandaged eyes. I winced. I couldn’t even imagine what that must have felt like.

  “Good morning!” came Telleo’s bright greeting as she stepped into the room. “Glad to see you back with us.” She joined me by the bedside and did a quick check of Loque’s vital signs. “How do you feel?”

  Loque growled, “Like I’ve been trampled by a herd of animals and left out in the sun for a week.”

  “That good?” I asked.

  Telleo gave me a look that said I shouldn’t be making jokes. “Let’s not stress him,” she said to me.

  “We need to talk,” I protested.

  “We really need to talk,” Loque echoed.

  “There’s plenty of time for that,” Telleo scolded. “It looks like you’re going to be with us for a while.”

  She took my arm and led me out of the room.

  “But—”