The Rivers of Zadaa tpa-6

by D. J. MacHale

  “And if he gets what he wishes, we will have failed,” Loor said. She sat down on a stone cot, looking peeved.

  I was beginning to think I had made a mistake. We were not doing any good in here. We needed to find out what Saint Dane was up to. What was he planning? He wasn’t going to fight a war by himself. As usual, he was playing both sides. He made sure the one person who would have stopped the Batu from attacking was murdered. Then we found him down here being buddies with the Rokador. He wanted a war, all right, but there had to be more than that. There always was. The trick was finding it.

  “Teek,” Loor said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Bokka’s friend Teek,” Loor answered. “You met him on the farm. I have known him as long as Bokka.”

  “Right, the guy who was afraid of bugs,” I said. “What about him?”

  “If he is here, he will help us.”

  I didn’t know Teek from a hole in the wall, but if Loor said he would help, then I wasn’t exactly in a position to argue. It wasn’t like I had any other ideas. I walked to the door and looked at the Tiggen guard outside. He stood staring into space. Nothing was going on, yet he was breathing hard. He was upset about something, that much was pretty clear.

  “Hello,” I said.

  The guy glanced at me, then quickly looked away. Yup, he was scared.

  “You know something is about to happen, don’t you?” I asked calmly. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” The guy wouldn’t look at me.

  I was a Traveler. Uncle Press told me that we had the ability to persuade people. I had no idea why we had this power or where it came from, but I’d seen it work. Gunny was pretty good at it. So was Uncle Press. I never had much luck with it unfortunately. The only time it seemed to work for me was when I tried it on somebody who was under stress. Or upset. If their mind was someplace else, they were open to persuasion. The Tiggen guard outside our cell was definitely upset. If there was ever a chance for me to work the magic, it was on this guy. I did my best to clear my mind, take away any trace of emotion or doubt, and focus on the guard.

  “We have a friend,” I said to him. “He’s a Tiggen. His name is Teek.”

  This got a reaction. He shot me a quick, surprised look. He knew Teek.

  “Teek is a friend,” I said. “He would want to know we’re here. Do you know where he is?”

  The guy fidgeted. I had no idea if I was getting through to him or not.

  “Can you find Teek and tell him we are here?” I asked as sincerely as possible.

  The guy was torn. He glanced at me a few times, as if he wanted to say something. I didn’t push. I felt like I had a fish on the line, and if I pulled too hard, he’d get away.

  “What you are asking,” he finally said, his voice cracking, “could get me executed.”

  “I’m not asking you to do anything but let Teek know we’re here,” I said calmly.

  The guy closed his eyes. He was really torn up. I didn’t know if it was because I was being so persuasive or because he was holding something back. Finally he turned to face me. I saw his anguish. He was nearly in tears.

  “Whatever happens,” he said, “please know that most of us had no say. We are victims. I’m still having trouble believing it.”

  “Believing what?” I asked, letting urgency creep into my voice. “What happened?”

  The guy turned and jogged away. “Wait!” I shouted.

  Too late. My fish was gone. I was afraid I’d pushed too hard. I turned to see that Loor was standing behind me. “What did that mean?” she asked.

  “That guy was scared,” I said. “I don’t think it’s because the Batu are coming, either. He was truly shaken. Something else is going on.”

  “Do you believe he will find Teek?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, but right now he’s our best shot at getting out of here.”

  There was nothing for us to do now. I needed to get my thoughts together, so I sat on one of the cots and took out the paper and pencil I always carry in my leather pouch and began to write this journal. I hoped that by putting it on paper, I might discover something we had missed. As I wrote, I went over ever detail, trying to unravel the mystery of Saint Dane’s plan. What I kept coming back to was Bokka. He knew something was up. He said it was a nightmare. I figured that when he and the other Tiggen guards returned to Kidik, they discovered something so horrible, he had to come and tell us even though it meant putting himself in danger. Whatever it was, it had all the Tiggen guards on edge. What could it be?

  I was writing for about half an hour, and was about to roll up this journal and send it to you guys when I heard a small voice calling from the corridor. “Loor?”

  We both looked up quickly to see the Tiggen named Teek standing beyond the barred door.

  “Teek!” Loor shouted, and ran to him. I was right behind her.

  Teek looked bad, like he hadn’t slept in a week. It was pretty obvious that whatever the big, scary secret was, he knew it. “Bokka?” he asked.

  Loor frowned. “He was killed,” she said. “By the archer with the silver arrows. I am sorry.”

  Teek dropped his head. I saw tears roll down his cheeks. “Bokka was coming to find you,” Teek said, his voice clutching. “To warn you.”

  “About what?” I asked.

  Teek looked between the two of us with red, teary eyes. “Who is Saint Dane?” he asked. “He says he is from a tribe on the far side of the desert. Could he be one of your enemies, Pendragon? The Red Sox?”

  Under other circumstances I Would have thought that was funny.

  “He is not a friend,” I said. “Not of the Batu or the Rokador.”

  Teek nodded. It seemed as if he already knew that, but my words confirmed it.

  “Then why is he here?” he asked.

  “That would take a really long time to explain,” I said.

  “Please believe me,” Teek continued. “We did not know. Most of the Tiggen guards were spread far across the underground. We were lied to. We believed everything the elite told us.”

  “About the Rokador holding back the water?” I asked.

  “That’s only the beginning!” Teek cried. “There is so much more. It is horrible.”

  “Tell us, Teek,” Loor said softly. “Maybe we can help.”

  “No one can help!” Teek cried. “It’s too late.”

  “We can try to stop things from getting worse,” I said.

  Teek rubbed tears from his eyes and took a deep breath. He nodded as if he had made a decision. He unlocked the cell door.

  “You must hear it for yourselves,” he said. “After that, I will take you to see. Until you see, you will not truly understand.”

  “Where are we going?” Loor asked.

  “First to the Rokador elite,” Teek answered. “They are sharing a final meal with the one who calls himself Saint Dane.”

  JOURNAL #22

  (CONTINUED)

  ZADAA

  Whenwe stepped out of the cell, I saw that Teek had brought our weapons. Nice idea, but there wasn’t a whole lot that a couple of sticks could do against an entire tribe of Rokador. Still, it felt good to have them back. I guarantee Loor felt the same way. Teek led us on a quick, twisted journey through the corridors of the stone building. I’m guessing we were in the basement since the hallways looked like the tunnels of the underground. There wasn’t much to see except for stone walls and closed doors. Teek knew exactly where he was going, which was amazing because it all looked like a whole lot of the same to me. We made a few turns, dashed down a few more empty corridors, and stopped at a closed door.

  “You must be quiet,” Teek said softly. “Above us is the private dining quarters of the elite. This door leads to a small tunnel that provides air to the building.”

  “Who are these elite?” I asked.

  “Our leaders,” Teek answered. “They govern the Rokador, pass the laws, and sit in judgment.”

  “That’s a lot of power,” I said. “Are they elec
ted?”

  “They are descendents of the original Rokador-those who first discovered the underground many generations ago.” Teek stopped talking and closed his eyes. It was like he was suddenly overcome with emotion. “Are you ill?” Loor asked.

  “I’m fine,” Teek said after taking a breath. “We can hear what they are saying, but if we are discovered…” He didn’t finish the sentence. I figured that whatever would happen, it wouldn’t be good. Note to self: Don’t get caught.

  He quietly opened the door and entered. Loor and I followed. We found ourselves in a space with a ceiling so low we had to duck down to walk. There looked to be two shafts that disappeared into darkness. Teek had explained that these tunnels provided air. I felt a slight breeze, as if the air were moving. But learning how they ventilated this building wasn’t why we were here. Light shone down from above through several small slits that were about a foot long and an inch wide. Teek approached this light source quietly and pointed for us to look. We quickly saw that these slits were the openings through which the room above was ventilated. More important, we were able to look through them and see into that room. Judging from the angle, I guessed that the slits were at the base of a wall. It was the perfect vantage point to peek into the room and eavesdrop on the proceedings.

  The room itself was like nothing we had seen in the underground. It was big enough to hold a long dining table. There was artwork on the walls and comfortable-looking furniture. Candles burned everywhere. The dining table itself was loaded with an incredible feast. There were silver bowls heaped with all sorts of strange-looking fruit. On one end of the table was a roast something. On the other end was another roast that looked like a turkey. There were tall goblets full of drinks. It was a pretty fancy feast-not exactly something you’d expect to see in a place where people were desperate for food and water.

  Loor and I exchanged looks. I knew she was thinking the same thing I was: Where was the horror Teek was talking about? It sure wasn’t in this room. This place looked pretty sweet. I counted ten Rokador. The ruling elite. I guess I expected to see a bunch of white-hairs who had centuries of experience between them to draw upon as they made the wise choices that helped guide the future of their people.

  Well… no.

  A couple people looked kind of old. One guy was so ancient he didn’t look like he could get out of his chair. I think he was napping…and drooling. I swear, there was a line of drool dropping from his mouth that formed a puddle on his chest. Nice. But overall it was a totally diverse group. There were three people who looked like adults. Two women and a man. There was a guy and a girl who didn’t look any older than I am. And then there were two little kids. I’m serious. Kids. They all had the pasty white skin and green eyes of the Rokador and wore the familiar white robes. This must have been a special occasion, because they all wore the fancy robes with the gold trim like I wore to the Batu Festival of Azhra.

  Everyone was eating quickly, pounding down the food as if it were their last meal. Truth be told, it might have been. They stuffed their mouths with fatty chunks of meat before they had even finished chewing what they already had bitten off. They washed it all down with water from their fancy goblets. I was surprised at first, but that’s before I remembered that in truth, there was no water shortage. At least, not down here.

  Oh yeah. There was one other guest at the table. Saint Dane. He sat on one end, watching the elite stuff themselves.

  He wasn’t eating. Every so often he’d take a sip of water. The whole event seemed to amuse him. He watched them with a slight smile, like a spider who knew he didn’t have to sweat because all the little flies were firmly trapped in his web. After watching this gluttony for a while, I was starting to feel sick to my stomach. I don’t know if it was because I was scared, or disgusted, or just plain hungry. I think it was all the above.

  Finally one of the adult women stood up and addressed the group. “A toast,” she said, holding up her goblet. “To our friend from the far side of the desert. He came to us a stranger, but has grown to be a trusted friend, a wise council, and the angel who will be forever known as the man who resurrected the Rokador. To Saint Dane!”

  “Saint Dane!” everyone echoed. They raised their glasses and cheered.

  Saint Dane smiled and raised his hand modestly, as if to say, “Aw shucks, folks, it was nothing.”

  I wanted to puke. Whatever Saint Dane said to these people, he had them totally convinced he was there to help. It was an eerie feeling. The people in this room loved him. I saw it in their eyes. They offered him a toast, they fed him like a king, they thanked him for all he’d done. They were probably forming plans to build a statue to him. They had no idea that whatever it was he talked them into, it would lead them to ruin. It was chilling. Was this the horrible truth that Bokka tried to tell us about?

  Saint Dane wiped his mouth daintily and stood up. “My friends,” he said. “And I am honored to call you my friends. Today marks a new beginning. The wise decision you have made will allow you to put aside the recent dark past and look to a brighter tomorrow. Now, finally, the Rokador will be able to grow and flourish in ways that just a short time ago seemed impossible. After today nothing will be impossible for you. I applaud your courage, and your vision.”

  He raised his own glass to them as they applauded. It was a total lovefest, until one of the older guys stood up and raised his hand for silence.

  “I share in everyone’s gratitude to Saint Dane for offering us his insight and advice. We are on the brink of a new future. A safe future. But I must admit, I am troubled by the lengths we must go to in achieving it. As we sit here now, enjoying our feast, I think we should ask ourselves one last time if the drastic course we have chosen is the right one.”

  There was general murmuring of concern. Some of the people nodded in agreement with the old guy, others were shaking their heads no. The two little kids kept eating. I don’t think they cared one way or the other. I half expected them to start a food fight.

  Saint Dane stood again and took control. “You are a wise leader,” he said to the old guy. “Your caution is further proof of that. All I can offer you as assurance is my own experience. My tribe was faced with a similarly difficult choice. Once the possibilities were discussed, we came to a conclusion that could not be denied. Details aside, we had two choices. To survive, or to perish. We chose to survive, and I am here today as proof that we chose the right course. You, the ruling elite of the Rokador, are faced with the same choice. The path you are on is not a pleasant one, I will not deny that. But what other choice do you have? I am the last one who needs to remind you how close you have come to the depths of oblivion. The wheels are now in motion. I suggest that if you do not want to be enveloped by the dark shadow of death, that you choose to break free…and live!”

  “To Saint Dane!” shouted the really old guy, who had been asleep and drooling. He jumped out of his chair, holding up his goblet. I couldn’t believe he could move that fast. Or move at all.

  “Saint Dane!” the others cheered, and jumped to their feet. Even the old guy who had just questioned their plan took his glass and raised it with the others. Whatever was about to happen, there was no stopping it now.

  Teek touched me on the shoulder and led us back out of the ventilation room. Once we closed the door, I asked, “What the hell were they talking about? What’s going to happen?”

  “Follow me,” Teek said, and led us farther into the building.

  “That group of bozos was the elite?” I asked. “How did they get to be in charge? Eeenie, meenie, miney, mo?”

  “As I said,” Teek answered, “they are descendants of the original Rokador who discovered the underground.”

  “So, they get to be in charge because of their ancestors, not because they’re any good at it?” I asked.

  “That’s one way of putting it,” Teek said.

  “That’s the only way of putting it,” I shot back. “There were a couple of kids in there! I’ll bet S
aint Dane had a real tough time convincing them to do…whatever.”

  I had to calm down. This was their show. The way the Rokador chose to rule themselves was none of my business-no matter how idiotic it was. I was more concerned about this big decision they had made. No, more like the big decision that Saint Dane maneuvered them into making.

  Teek led us to the end of a long corridor, where a door stood out from all the others because it was made of steel. He stopped and turned to us. “We must be careful. There will be Tiggen guards inside.”

  “What’s in there?” I asked.

  Teek didn’t answer, but he opened the door and entered. I shot Loor a quick, nervous look. Were we about to see the nightmare that Bokka told us of? We followed Teek through the door and found ourselves on a narrow, steel catwalk that looked down onto a cavernous room. It was freaky at first, because I thought we had been running around the basement of this building. The room we had just entered dropped down another bunch of stories. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. Digging holes is what these guys did best. Once I got my wits back, I tried to understand what I was looking at.

  It was some kind of machine room. There were dozens of giant vertical silver cylinders lining the walls of this huge cavern that were connected by massive horizontal pipes. The center of the room was taken up by a single, huge horizontal pipe that ran the length of the room. This pipe had to be twenty feet across, with thick seams that were bolted together by thousands of fat rivets. The bottom half of the pipe was below the floor, so only the top half showed. Built onto the top of this pipe was a long platform. On the platform was the complex instrument panel that controlled the machinery. There were countless flashing lights, along with small dials and gauges. Three Rokador were on the platform, monitoring the gauges and making occasional adjustments to the small silver handles that controlled…whatever. As we watched, two more Rokador climbed the ladders to the platform and manned their own stations. The place had an energy to it. A physical energy. You could feel it. There was a low, steady hum. It felt like…power.