“Mark?” she called. “You in there?”
No answer. She pulled open the creaky wooden door and stepped into the dank earthen cellar.
Mark wasn’t there. The large, rocky tunnel that was the flume was quiet and dark. Courtney’s eyes took a second to adjust. She stood at the mouth of the flume, looking into the depths of infinity.
“What did you do, Mark?” she said aloud.
Her biggest fear was that Mark had jumped into the flume, headed for another territory. But only Travelers could use the flumes. They learned that lesson the hard way. It collapsed on Eelong for one reason and one reason only: because Mark and Courtney had traveled. She had trouble believing that Mark would use the flume again knowing how dangerous and wrong it was. But Mark might not have been thinking clearly. She couldn’t imagine getting the news that her parents had both been killed. For all she knew, Mark might have lost it. There was no way that anybody could think straight after hearing something like that. The question was, how “off” did his thinking get? Was he so messed up that he didn’t worry about the dangers and jumped in? If that happened, where would he go? To find Bobby? But why?
As well as she knew Mark, she couldn’t get inside his head to figure out why he would have come here, or asked her to come. She had done what he asked. But coming here didn’t answer any questions. It only raised more. With a shrug, she turned to leave.
That’s when she saw it. She hadn’t noticed at first, because her eyes were still adjusting to the dark. Now she saw something on top of an overturned wooden box a few feet back from the mouth of the flume. It was a manila envelope. A regular old Second Earth envelope. Written in large black letters was a single
Word: COURTNEY.
Courtney dove at knew it had to be from Mark. That’s why she was there, to get this. Without wasting another second, she tore it open, being careful not to damage anything that might be inside. Peering in, she saw a slip of paper, and two smaller envelopes. She pulled the paper out first to see it was a note.
It read: This is the hardest thing i’ve ever had to do. Please forgive me. Mark.
Courtney couldn’t catch her breath. What had he done? She was beginning to think he might have jumped into the flume after all. She dropped the note back in the large envelope and pulled out one of the two smaller envelopes. It had weight. Something solid was inside. Written on the outside of the envelope was a series of numbers: #15-224. Courtney knew exactly what it was, an assigned account code. Seeing this, Courtney also knew what she would find inside the small envelope. She tore it open and dumped the contents into her hand. It was a small brass key. Courtney held the account number and the key to the safe-deposit box where Mark stored Bobby’s journals at the National Bank of Stony Brook. Bobby had opened the account on First Earth, 1937, and asked them to keep his journals safe there. Mark had dutifully stored every bit of correspondence from Bobby in that bank. Courtney nervously bit her already hurting lip to stop herself from crying. Mark had handed over the responsibility of Bobby’s journals to her. But why?
There was one more small envelope in the bigger envelope. Courtney pulled it out to discover this one had some weight as well. She tore it open, looked inside, and this time she couldn’t stop herself. She cried. Courtney wasn’t somebody who cried much. She barely shed a tear throughout her whole painful ordeal after the accident. But at that moment, tears filled her eyes and she flat out sobbed. She hadn’t expected this. It hit her like a speeding truck. The emotion poured out; she couldn’t help it. Inside this envelope was something that couldn’t be, yet was. It was Mark’s Traveler ring. It was the ring that was given to him so long ago by Loor’s mother, Osa, before they even knew that Bobby was missing. Before they heard of things called flumes and territories and Travelers. Before they heard of Saint Dane. This ring had never left Mark from the moment Osa gave it to him, until now. When she saw it, Courtney knew. There was no doubt in her mind. Mark had jumped into the flume and wherever he’d gone, he wasn’t coming back.
“Mark, what were you thinking?” she sobbed.
Courtney sat down on the wooden box and let her emotions pour out. There was nothing she could do. Mark left no other clue as to what had happened. Courtney knew that had to be intentional. If Mark had wanted Courtney to know more, he would have told her. Seeing the items he left, it was pretty clear what Mark had in mind for her. He wanted her to receive Bobby’s journals and keep them safe. Alone. She would do it, no question. She was prepared. But she wasn’t prepared to be without Mark.
She didn’t want to be at the flume anymore. It felt like the walls of the basement were closing in on her. She wanted to be outside, in the light, where she could breathe and think. The open mouth of the flume gave her the shivers, as if it were taunting her. There were answers in there, through the tunnel, but they were beyond her reach.
She quickly put the safe-deposit key in her jacket pocket, along with the envelope that had the account number. She folded up Mark’s note to her and slipped it inside the same pocket. She was left with the heavy silver ring with the gray stone that was surrounded by carved symbols-one for each territory. She was about to drop it into her pocket, when she stopped. No, she thought, that was wrong. This ring wasn’t a “thing” to be carried around. It was a living symbol of Halla. Of Bobby and the Travelers. Of Mark. There was only one way to respectfully possess a Traveler ring. Courtney held the heavy ring in the palm of her left hand. She had held this ring before, many times, but never with such a feeling of importance. Of destiny. Though she and Mark were both acolytes, it was Mark’s ring. Osa had given it to him. Whenever she touched it, she always felt a little bit uncomfortable, as if she weren’t worthy. But now Mark had given it to her. It was her ring. She was now the sole acolyte from Second Earth. There was only one thing to do. Courtney held the ring up and looked at it with reverence. She wiped away her last tears and said, “Mark, wherever you are, I hope you know what you’re doing, you dork.” She slipped the silver circle onto the ring finger of her right hand. It fit perfectly
Instantly, as if in response, Courtney heard a crackling, groaning sound. She froze. She knew what that meant. She’d heard it before. She spun around and saw it.
The flume was coming to life.
(CONTINUED)
Courtney jumped back, away from the flume, hitting her back against the stone wall opposite the mouth. She stared in wonder as the tiny light appeared far in the distance, growing larger. Someone was coming in. Courtney had seen this phenomenon before. She had flown through the flume herself, but never had she experienced any of it alone. She found herself holding her hand out to her side, as if to reach for Mark, but Mark wasn’t there.
The light grew brighter. She could hear the faint sweet musical notes that always accompanied the Travelers on their journeys through the flumes. The tunnel itself seemed to twist, ever so subtly, as if stretching out and preparing itself to welcome the visitor-whoever it might be.
“Please be Mark,” Courtney said to nobody. “Or Bobby.”
She didn’t have to say who she didn’t want it to be.
As the light grew brighter, the gray stone walls of the tunnel melted into crystal. Courtney knew it wouldn’t be long now. Whoever was coming was almost there. Brilliant light blasted out of the tunnel and threw dancing, sparkling beams all around the root cellar. Courtney squinted and shielded her eyes, but wanted to see it all. Moments later she saw the shadow of a Traveler landing in the mouth of the tunnel.
“Mark?” she shouted over the now-loud music. “Bobby?”
The light didn’t disappear after the Traveler arrived. It continued to shine brightly. That was unusual. Courtney had only seen that happen once before. It wasn’t a happy memory. If Courtney could have backed herself through the stone wall, she would have.
“Hi, Courtney,” came a friendly guy’s voice. “Long time no see!”
Courtney nearly fainted. She knew that voice. In her mind she was suddenly transported back to a lonel
y road in the Berkshire mountains. She was lying in a heap, bruised and broken. The headlights of the car that hit her cut through the darkness. The driver of the car stepped in front of the headlights so she could see him. It was the guy who nearly killed her. The guy who tried to kill her. The guy she was riding to meet because she had such a mad crush on him. Courtney’s head was spinning. This wasn’t making sense. That was a memory. A horrible, life-changing memory. Why was she seeing it happen again?
The Traveler stepped out of the flume. He was a cute guy of around seventeen with curly blond hair and a devilish smile. He wore sweats that said: stansfield academy, and carried a soccer ball. It was a nightmare. It was Whitney Wilcox.
It was Saint Dane.
“Miss me?” he asked brightly as he kneed the soccer ball into the air and caught it. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. For a while there I didn’t think you’d make it.”
Courtney could barely breathe. She stared in wide-eyed shock.
“I–I don’t understand,” she stammered.
Whitney laughed heartily. “Now there’s an understatement! What’s even funnier is you don’t understand how much you don’t understand.”
Courtney shook her head. It was all she could do.
‘I’m sure you and Mark have been fretting over what I’ve planned for Second Earth. Haven’t you?”
Courtney didn’t answer. She couldn’t.
“I’ll bet you were wondering if Pendragon’s success on First Earth spared your territory. Be honest, that’s what you were hoping for, right?”
Whitney kicked the soccer ball expertly from foot to knee and back to foot, then caught it.
Courtney stood frozen.
“Well, I’m sorry to say you’d be wrong. I’ve been having fun here on your self-absorbed little territory for quite some time now‹Want to see what I’ve been up to?”
She didn’t, but she had to.
Whitney threw the soccer ball into the air, turned, and kicked it back into the light that blasted from the flume. When he turned back to Courtney, he had transformed. He wasn’t Whitney Wilcox anymore. He was…
“Mitchell!” Courtney screamed.
Standing in the mouth of the flume was Andy Mitchell. He snorted, pushed his greasy hair back, and said cockily, “Yo, Chetwynde, how they hangin’?”
“No…” Courtney said, stunned. “No!”
“Oh yeah,” Mitchell said. “Right from the start. We grew up together, Chetwynde!”
He spit out a lougie and laughed. He may have been Saint Dane, but he had all the mannerisms of Andy Mitchell that Courtney knew so well-because he was Andy Mitchell!
“My favorite part was when I stole Pendragon’s journals,” he cackled. “Man, I had you guys squirming. Pretty good how you got out of that one, I’ll give you that.”
It was too much for Courtney to comprehend. Her whole sense of reality had been turned inside out. “So…there never was an Andy Mitchell?” she asked numbly.
“Of course there was,” the kid answered. “You’re looking at him. Except he wasn’t exactly what you thought he was.” Mitchell cackled out another laugh and brushed his hair back. “Surprise!”
“Where’s Mark?” Courtney asked with a touch of desperation.
“Oh, no,” Mitchell said, wagging his finger. “That would be telling. Let’s just say our friendship has entered a whole new phase.”
As the truth sank in, Courtney was hit with a realization that was so stunning, it rocked her back into complete focus. She was no longer frightened. She was mad.
“You killed the Dimonds, didn’t you?” she seethed. “That plane disappeared because of you, Saint Dane.”
Andy Mitchell took a deep bow and said, “Just another piece in a very complicated puzzle.”
Courtney snapped to attention. That was the single most horrifying thing she had ever heard. Everything that had ever happened with Andy Mitchell, from the moment they met him in kindergarten until the death of Mark’s parents, was all a plot. Saint Dane had been working his way into their lives long before they knew about Travelers and flumes and Halla. Whatever his plan for Second Earth was, it had been in the works for years.
“Enjoy your life, Chetwynde,” Mitchell said as he turned back toward the flume. “What is it that your Traveler friend says? Oh yeah. Hobey-ho. Let’s go!”
He leaped into the flume.
“No!” Courtney shouted.
Courtney didn’t think, she acted. She ran at Mitchell, ready to tackle him and keep him from leaving. It was an insane move, but Courtney wasn’t in her right mind. She jumped into the flume, but it was too late. Mitchell was gone. Courtney hit the crystal floor, empty handed.
“Saint Dane!” she screamed at nobody. He was gone.
Courtney was on her hands and knees, still bathed in the light of the flume. That’s when she felt it. The slight tug. Courtney snapped a look deeper into the tunnel. She saw that the light wasn’t disappearing. What was going on? The tug became stronger. Courtney realized with horror that she was being pulled farther in! She got her wits together and crawled backward. At least, she tried to crawl. It was like pulling against a tornado. She spun around, sat on her bottom, and dug her heels into the crystal floor. It didn’t help. She was being pulled, inch by agonizing inch, deep into the flume. The harder she fought, the more difficult it became. She made one last-ditch attempt to stop herself by flipping over and trying to grab the edge of the tunnel with her fingers. It was too late. Her hands scraped across the coarse crystal, and she was yanked into infinity.
When Courtney spun back to look past her toes, she saw that she was on her way. She was traveling. But to where? She had been through a flume before, so she wasn’t terrified. At least she wasn’t terrified of the experience. The fact that she was there at all was a different concern. She forced herself to take a few deep breaths and calm down. She had to be prepared for whatever she would find on the far side.
There was one small consolation. Unlike every other time she’d traveled through the flume, the rocky tunnel hadn’t cracked. That was what ultimately destroyed the flume on Eelong. Every time she and Mark had traveled, the flume physically cracked a little bit more, until that last fateful trip when it collapsed and Kasha was killed. But when she was sucked into the flume this time, there was no damage. She couldn’t begin to guess why, but she was grateful.
As she sped through the crystal tunnel, she gazed out onto the starfield beyond. As Bobby had described, she saw many of the ghostly images from the territories, as if they were being projected in space. She recognized some galloping zenzens from Eelong, along with the miniature helicopter that Bobby and Kasha flew to Black Water. She saw what looked like a vast tribe of primitive people, chanting and singing. She also saw something that she recognized from history books as the LZ-129- the airship Hindenburg from First Earth. All the images jumbled into one another, making Courtney feel as if she were traveling through an ocean of time and space, where all the territories existed together.
She had no idea how long she had been flying through the flume. It was long enough that she had calmed down and prepared to face whatever she would find on the far side. At least, she hoped she was ready. She hadn’t said the name of a territory when she left. Then again, neither had Saint Dane. There was no way to know where she might end up. Above all else, she hoped she would find Mark or Bobby.
The musical notes grew more frantic, which meant she was about to arrive at her destination. Courtney tensed up. Just before she landed, the last thought she had was that she wished Mark was with her. A moment later her feet touched solid ground. She stood up, having been gently deposited at the end of the line. Brilliant light swirled everywhere, making it impossible to see where she was. It took a few seconds for the light and music to recede back into the flume, and allow her the first look at her new surroundings. She took a quick look around to see… she was back in the root cellar under the Sherwood house. She was still on Second Earth!
Cour
tney had no idea what to make of that. It was the absolute last place she expected to be. On the other hand, it was the best place she could be. She was safe at home, though she knew “safe” was a relative word. She was relieved, but frustrated. There was nobody she could go to and ask what had happened. She didn’t have Mark to help figure it out. She was about as alone as she had ever been in her life.
She said to herself, Get used to it, Chetwynde.
She felt an odd sensation. Her first thought was that she was being pulled back into the flume, so she jumped forward like she was stepping on hot coals. A quick look back showed her that the flume wasn’t activating. So what was she feeling?
The answer came a second later. Light sparkled from the ring on her finger. The Traveler ring. Mark’s ring. No, her ring. She quickly took it off and put it on the ground in front of the flume. The ring grew and light flashed from the opening. Courtney closed her eyes. She needed a second to catch her breath. She didn’t know when she’d get another chance. The musical notes grew louder, and ended just as quickly. When Courtney opened her eyes, the ring was back to normal. On the ground next to it was another envelope just like the last one that had come through. It was Bobby’s next journal from Quillan.
The first journal she was solely responsible for.
She said out loud, “And so we go.”
QUILLAN
This is the beginning of the end. Or the end of the beginning. I’m not sure which. After you finish reading this journal, guys, you can tell me. In fact, you can tell me in person because I’m coming home. It’s time. Ever since Saint Dane made that comment on Zadaa about knowing what’s happening with Courtney, I’ve been worried about what might be going on back there. Maybe I should have already come home, but I made the choice to go to Quillan. I hope that wasn’t a mistake.
The Quillan Games tpa-7 Page 26