Raven Rise tpa-9

by D. J. MacHale

  “Happy” was her answer. “I think he’s finally seeing past the loss of the pilgrims. He thinks you’re wonderful, by the way.”

  That made me feel pretty good. “He’s working kind of hard.”

  “He wouldn’t have it any other way,” she replied confidently. “Do you think that’s wrong?”

  “No,” I said quickly. “I just thought that since he’s kind of older, he should take it easy.”

  Telleo gave it some thought, then nodded. “I’ll visit him in the morning. If I think he’s too stressed, I’ll tell him to lighten his load.”

  “Will he?”

  Telleo smiled slyly. “He can’t say no to me. I’m his only daughter.”

  I chuckled. “Right. Hey, you haven’t told me anything about your mom.”

  As soon as I said the words, I realized it was a mistake. Telleo’s bright eyes turned dark. It was weird. She suddenly got all vacant. Up until that moment neither of us had talked about anything personal. I mean, about our backgrounds. It was a subject I wanted to dodge at all costs for obvious reasons. The few times I thought about asking Telleo about her family, I stopped myself because I didn’t want the same questions coming back at me. That night I asked without thinking. It just came out. I realized my mistake too late and shut the heck up. Telleo was silent for a long time. It was pretty clear that her thoughts had gone to a troubling place. I didn’t know whether she was going to ignore the question or was working to find the right words to answer me. When she finally spoke, it was as though the words were coming from’ a different person. A darker person. Someone with secrets.

  “I don’t talk about her,” she said, so softly I could barely hear. The words “Why not?” almost flew out of my mouth, but I swallowed them.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, softening. “It’s just…difficult. My mother and I had problems. I want to let it go at that, okay?”

  “Yeah, sure, sorry,” I said, trying to do damage control. “Don’t be sorry. Just don’t mention that woman anymore. To anyone.”

  That woman. Yikes. Whatever had gone down between Telleo and her mother, it wasn’t good. My curiosity was running wild, but I had to respect her wishes and made a pact with myself to forget all about Telleo’s mother. It was a smart thing to do for lots of reasons.

  As time passed and Rayne healed, my thoughts returned to the bigger picture. I guess that was inevitable. My main goal in destroying the gate was to trap Saint Dane here on Ibara. I could only hope that it had worked; I had no proof. Since the battle, not a single Flighter had been seen on Ibara. Sentries were positioned all over the island. That was one of the big changes that was made after the dado attack. There were no reports of Flighters trying to land. In some ways that worried me. Since Saint Dane was stuck here, you would think he’d try to rally them for another shot at Ibara. Why not? There was nothing else for him to spend his time on. What was he doing? Hanging out in Rubic City watching the buildings crumble? In some weird way the fact that there were no Flighters hanging around made me nervous.

  A few times I went down to the rocky rubble on the beach to see if there was any way to get to the flume. There wasn’t. I suppose a dygo could dig down to it, but there was nothing on Ibara that could tunnel that deep through so much rock. I tried myself once, for about a minute. I threw a couple of boulders aside and quickly realized it was a waste. The flume was buried. Still, I didn’t have proof that Saint Dane was trapped.

  That is, until one afternoon that I don’t think I’ll ever forget.

  I was working with Twig and Krayven, carrying what felt like the one-millionth dado part down to the junk pile on the beach. No sooner had I lobbed the foot (yes, foot) onto the pile, when I heard something overhead. Nobody else would have given it a second thought. In fact, Twig and

  Krayven didn’t. But I did. The sound was the single, loud caw! of a crow. A big crow. A raven. I looked up to see the huge bird circling the pile. I froze. Could it be? “Big bird,” Twig commented.

  That made me think of the big goofy yellow dude from Sesame Street. I should have laughed at that. I didn’t. The black bird circled once more, then flew off along the beach… in the direction of the buried gate. It didn’t seem like a random move. It felt more like it was waiting for me to see it before shooting off.

  I wanted to puke.

  “I’ll meet you back at the village,” I told the others. “I want to check something out.”

  “What?” Krayven asked. “I’ll help.”

  “No!” I snapped, a little too quickly. They both jumped in surprise. “I mean, it’s not important. I’ll be right back.”

  I didn’t stick around to debate and walked quickly along the beach. My heart raced. What did this mean? Was it a random bird that I was following? Was my paranoia meter set a little too low? Or was something else going on? I knew where I’d find that answer.

  It was the fifth time I had gone to the tomb of the gate. Each time I came away with the same conclusion. The flume was buried. It was inaccessible. No problem. Then time would go by; I’d get itchy and go down to make sure. Again. What can I say? I’m paranoid. This time was different. My paranoia was justified. I followed the shore until I reached the huge mound of volcanic rock, turned inland and began to climb. Normally when I’d reach the pinnacle, which was around three hundred feet high, I’d look to see if there was any possible way to get to the flume. This trip would be different.

  As I climbed the mound of rocks, I didn’t know what I hoped to find. I didn’t want to face Saint Dane. I really didn’t. Who would? I’d just as soon never lay eyes on the demon again. But seeing him there might have confirmed that my plan had worked. I wanted to know for sure that I wasn’t the only one trapped on Ibara. His presence would confirm that. When I reached the top, I threw my leg over, hoisted myself up, got to my feet, and had my answer.

  “Good morning, Pendragon,” Saint Dane said with a casual smile. “Lovely day to enjoy the beach, don’t you think?”

  JOURNAL#33

  (CONTINUED)

  IBARA

  Hesat on a flat boulder, looking all sorts of casual, with his feet propped up on a smaller rock. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he looked like some guy who was just hanging out, catching some sun. I knew better.

  He was in his normal form, wearing the dark suit that buttoned up to his chin. His bald head was so white in the gleaming daylight it made the jagged red scars seem like streaks of blood. The word “vampire” came to mind. Actually, a lot of words came to mind. None of them were good. I stood staring at him. This was his show. He’d lured me there. I wanted him to speak first. He didn’t. He stared at me with those creepy blue-white eyes. What was going through that twisted brain? I knew this couldn’t be a social call. Saint Dane always had an agenda.

  I finally couldn’t take it anymore and said, “I hope you used sunblock on that skeleton head of yours. You’re gonna fry.”

  He chuckled and asked, “Do you really care?”

  “Nope.”

  Saint Dane stood up to his full height, which was several inches taller than mine. I thought back to a time when he towered over me like some ominous giant. I’d grown up since then. Now he was just an ominous regular-height guy. He strolled around the peak, kicking at random stones.

  “Quite the dramatic choice you made here,” he began. “I have to admit, I was surprised. Not that you used tak from Denduron, mind you. I predicted that. But I didn’t think you would do something so drastic as sealing the flume. Bravo. It was a selfless act. Desperate, but selfless.”

  “Desperate?” I said, scoffing. “I kicked your ass.”

  “It was quite the battle, wasn’t it?” he said with glee, as if enjoying the memory. “The dados didn’t know what hit them. Literally. Then again, they didn’t think about anything at all. They were mindless automatons.”

  “Now they’re trash.”

  “Don’t gloat, Pendragon. It’s unbecoming.”

  “Hey, I earned it,” I shot back. �
�I didn’t start this. But I finished it. And I finished you.”

  Saint Dane threw me a look with those cold eyes. “What do you want?” I snarled.

  “I want to congratulate you,” he announced jovially. “I must say, events did not play out exactly as I expected. You have proven to be a formidable adversary. I thought this conflict would have ended long ago, and that is to your credit.” He bowed deeply and added, “For that, I commend you.”

  “That’s it? That’s why you came here? You got so bored hanging out in the rubble of Rubic City that you flew all the way over here just to tell me what a great job I did? Talk about desperate.”

  “There’s more,” he said flatly.

  Oh. There always was. The guy sat down again. He looked out over the ocean, then back to the island, as if soaking up the beauty of the tropical territory. He seemed almost human. Almost.

  He continued, “We’ve come a long way, you and I. I’d like to think we’ve both learned from each other. I now understand the resilience and fortitude the people of the territories possess. They are a passionate people, and for that, I’ve developed a certain…respect for them.”

  “But not enough respect to leave us alone,” I added.

  “Ah!” he exclaimed. “That is exactly my point. You see, my friend, we are-“

  “I’m not your friend.”

  “Yes, of course. I hope that by now you understand exactly where our differences lie.”

  “I do. I’m trying to protect the territories, and you’re trying to kill everyone. I’ve had that one down for a while now.”

  He smiled and shook his head, as if I were an annoying child who didn’t understand his obvious lesson. It made me want to hit him.

  “You speak of methods,” he said patiently. “I speak of philosophy.”

  “Methods!” I shouted. “You use genocide like some kind of…of…garden tool, and I’m supposed to ignore that?”

  “Are you any different? Didn’t you condone the destruction of the dirigible Hindenburgl People died, Pendragon, but since it was for the greater good, you accepted it. Why are your tools any better or more righteous than mine?”

  I wanted to argue, but I realized there was more going on here than debating about the past.

  “Please,” he continued calmly. “For once in your futile existence, open your narrow mind to the larger issues.”

  I turned around to look out on the ocean and take a deep breath. I had to calm down. Saint Dane may not have been human, but he had human emotions. I’d gotten to him more than once. I definitely had learned a few things over the past several years, and one of them was that I was better off letting Saint Dane spew than baiting him into an argument. It didn’t help if I got all emotional, either. I forced myself to relax.

  “I’m listening,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “Thank you. I was speaking about our differences. If I may be so bold as to speak for you, I would say that you hold the opinion that free will is the right of every being in Halla. It is up to the individual to choose his or her own path, good or bad, wherever it may lead. That’s putting it simply, but am I correct?”

  I turned back to him. “And it’s your opinion that the people of Halla can’t be trusted with their own destiny and need a guiding hand to help them live the kind of life you think is correct.”

  Saint Dane’s eyebrow went up. It actually went up. “Indeed,” he declared with a touch of surprise. “Again, an oversimplification, but in essence, correct. Perhaps you have been paying attention.”

  “It wasn’t hard,” I snarled.

  “You see, Pendragon,” Saint Dane continued, “that difference in philosophy has been the very core of our dispute. The people of the territories are egocentric, shortsighted children. You say they should control their own destiny, but time and again they have proven themselves incapable. You accuse me of practicing genocide. Believe me, the strife I have caused is but a mere drop of blood against the turmoil that the people of the territories have created for themselves. In spite of what you might think, I am not responsible for every war that has ever been fought. I cannot be blamed for hatred, bigotry, crime, religious conflicts, turf wars-the list goes on to infinity. You know enough of the history of your own world to know I’m right. It’s no different with the other worlds. Veelox, Cloral, Quillan-it’s all the same. History is written in the blood of its people. I want to put an end to that.”

  I took a few seconds to let his words sink in. I didn’t want to speak out of emotion. “Put it that way and it sounds great,” I said, measuring my words. “You’re like some concerned parent who wants his children to stop fighting. I like that. The end of all human conflict. Sounds pretty good. There’s only one problem.”

  “Please. Enlighten me.”

  “You think you should be the sole voice of reason. Judge, jury, executioner. You are the only one who knows what’s best for everyone. If what you’ve told me in the past is still true, your plan is to pit the people of the territories against one another until all of Halla falls into turmoil. Then when all seems lost, you’ll come riding in like some kind of savior to put everybody straight. Is that how it’s supposed to work?”

  Saint Dane chuckled. I hate chuckling. I’ve mentioned that, right?

  “Something like that,” he answered.

  “Who’s to say you have all the answers? Who’s to say any one person has all the answers?”

  “Leaders are chosen all the time-“

  “Exactly! That’s my point! Leaders are chosen. Chosen. It’s about free will. People can choose who to put their trust in, whether it’s the Council of Faar or the viceroy of Leeandra. It’s up to the people. And if that leader fails, they won’t be leading for long. History has proven that. Nobody can have ultimate power because nobody is infallible, especially not a leader who rises to power by manipulating the very people he claims to care so much about. Dictators don’t stay in power long, and you want to be the dictator of all there ever was or will be. You expect me to think that’s a good thing? Give me a break! You don’t care about the people of Halla. That’s just an excuse. You only care about the power.”

  “I can guide Halla to heights you can’t even imagine,” he said, his temper flaring.

  “How? By playing on people’s worst instincts? That’s what you’re obsessed with-the worst side of people. Your power comes from bringing that out. What kind of leader is that? Halla isn’t perfect and never will be. But it’s right. That’s the way it was meant to be. People have the right to choose their own destiny, right or wrong.”

  “And that is where we disagree.”

  “Who are you?” I screamed.

  Yes, I was losing it. Wasn’t it about time?

  “Where did you come from? How can you do what you do? Why is this all happening? How is any of this possible? You told me the Travelers were illusions. What the hell does that mean? You keep saying the battle is between us, but I’m at a total disadvantage. You know it all and I know nothing. Who are you? Who…am… I!”

  Saint Dane stepped back from me. It was strange. It was as if he had deflated. His energy was gone.

  “That is the one thing I cannot tell you, Pendragon,” he said. “If I did, this would all have been for nothing.”

  “What?” I screamed in total frustration. “What does that mean?”

  “You’ll understand soon enough, when this is over.”

  “It’s over now!”

  “Soon enough, Pendragon,” he repeated. “You won’t have to wait much longer for your answers. I am sorry that you didn’t allow yourself to open your mind to see things from my perspective. This was your last chance.”

  “I did open my mind,” I snarled at the demon. “Forgive me if I’m not buying it. I don’t care how you spin it, Saint Dane, you are evil. Everything you’ve done is evil. You can’t make me believe for a second that anything you’ve done is justified because it will create some greater good.”

  “Yet you’ve made choices you
knew were wrong,” he argued.

  “Not like you,” I countered. “Not even close.”

  “Keep telling yourself that,” he said calmly. “Your self-righteousness is all you have left.”

  He took one step backward and jumped off the cliff. It didn’t even surprise me. I didn’t budge, because I knew what I’d see next. A moment later the jet-black raven flew up and sped off across the ocean, headed toward Rubic City. I screamed at it in anger and frustration. I couldn’t help myself. What was he trying to tell me? Why didn’t he just come out and say it? How could this guy possibly believe that all the misery and destruction he caused were justified? And why was he keeping the ultimate truth a secret? It was like we were playing some cosmic game of chess, and if I knew all the rules, it wouldn’t count. I’d been on this quest going on four years now, and I knew barely more about what it all meant than I did when I first left home with Uncle Press.

  I screamed again. That’s how frustrated I was. This wasn’t how things were supposed to play out. I had made my choice. I ended the battle. I wasn’t a Traveler anymore. I’d stopped Saint Dane. Why was he messing with my head? Was he just trying to torture me because I’d stopped him cold? Was he as frustrated as I was? Maybe he was just better at hiding it. I had a brief thought that the two of us would be locked in this mind game for the rest of my life, here on this island. I wasn’t sure which was worse: battling Saint Dane across Halla or being trapped with him in the cage of Ibara.

  I had to force myself to let it go. The war was over. I had won. Or at least I had forced a draw. We were stuck here. Both of us. That’s the best thing that came out of my encounter with the demon. It was official. He was just as trapped as I was. That was good. I was going to have to take comfort in that and not let him get to me. I promised myself that the next time I saw him, I’d be ready. In fact, I’d welcome it. The debate between free will and forced destiny would continue.

  I sat down on that mound of rock and laughed. I had this vision of the two of us having a philosophical debate that raged for decades. Like two old war veterans who fought on opposite sides of a long-ago battle, we’d argue our sides. That would be okay. Nobody ever died over a debate. Or over a game of checkers. At least, not yet.