Telleo was a whole different issue. We were together. Though even with all the practical stuff aside, I just didn’t feel “that way” about her. Problem is that I think she felt “that way” about me. The best I could hope for was that it wouldn’t become too tricky. I didn’t want to have to have one of those “we’re just friends” conversations because the truth was that we were more than just friends. We were really close. But in a way different from what I think she wanted.
Another strange thing happened, and I’m not sure what it means. I was alone with Genj one night after a long day of work. I was beat. I mean, really beat. Genj was talking about the fishing fleet and how we should start moving some of the fishermen who had been building homes or dumping dado parts back onto the boats to start fishing again. He was right. It made sense. But I was too tired to care. My eyelids kept drooping. I mention that because I wasn’t thinking and said something I regret. I blame it on the fact that I was too tired to think straight. Or that I’m an idiot.
Remember I told you how I’ve been avoiding any talk about the past, only because I didn’t want to have to talk about mine? Well, Genj was talking about the fishing fleet and about how much his wife, whose name was Sharr by the way, loved a particular kind of fish that was rare because it didn’t run that often. It was the first time I had heard Genj mention his wife. I knew from the other tribunal members that she had died years before. Some sort of illness that I didn’t ask too much about. Telleo cared for her until the end. Moman told me it was Telleo’s experience with her mother that had turned her into a healer. So I knew what happened to Sharr, but I never brought her up with Genj. I figured it was a tough subject, so I didn’t go near it. Until that night. Without thinking, I asked, “How come Telleo didn’t get along with her mother?”
Genj sat up straight. I did too. Suddenly I wasn’t so sleepy anymore. What had I said? I wanted to grab the words out of the air and shove them back into my head. I didn’t say anything. I had to prepare for damage control.
“Telleo and Sharr were as close as any mother and daughter could be,” Genj said with authority. “They were more like sisters. When Sharr passed, Telleo was devastated. I didn’t think she’d come around, but she’s a strong girl. She loved her mother very much. Why would you think they didn’t get along?”
There was no way I was going to tell him that Telleo said she and her mother had problems. It was pretty obvious that there had been more going on between those two than Genj realized. Maybe they kept it from him. Whatever. It wasn’t my business, and I didn’t want to spoil his memories, even if they weren’t entirely accurate.
“I must be wrong,” I said quickly. “Telleo doesn’t like to talk about her mother, and I thought that was because they had problems. I see it’s just because she misses her.”
Genj nodded sadly. He bought my explanation. I wasn’t so sure I bought it though. I was learning more about Genj’s family than I wanted to know, and things didn’t quite add up. I decided that it was best left alone. The subject didn’t come up again.
I haven’t added to my journal in a few weeks, mostly because nothing journal-worthy was happening. Work on Rayne continued. The village was slowly taking shape. All was well. I wish I could find the right words to describe how satisfying it all was, but I think you get it. It all felt so right…
Until something very wrong happened. The irony is, it began with something wonderful. Amazing, in fact. No, impossible. I’m not completely sure what to make of it yet. It was an event that can be best described as “a miracle.” I’m serious. But along with the joy came a dark cloud. As I write this now, I still don’t know how dark it will get. But I will know, and soon.
We had been working really hard. My crew was exhausted. It was hot. Hotter than usual. It was midday and we had put the finishing touches on yet another hut. By that afternoon a family would be moving in. That was always cause for celebration. Since we had been working so hard, and there were only a few hours left in the day, I gave my guys the rest of the afternoon off. I told them to relax. Go for a swim. Take a nap. Anything. They had been doing a great job and deserved it.
There was another reason why I wanted the afternoon off. I wanted to go to the flume site. As I’ve written before, I’d been down there several times just to make sure it was definitely, positively out of reach. Each time, that was confirmed. Then days would pass and I’d begin to wonder again. On that particular afternoon the nagging little feeling started tickling my brain again. It was time to pay another visit to confirm what I already knew. What can I say? I’m obsessive. I’ll probably be checking the flume for the rest of my life.
I walked to the beach alone. The new huts hadn’t gotten close to the shore yet. It would be months before we broke ground on the outermost circle of Rayne. I had the beach to myself. I walked along the shore, feeling anxious. More so than anytime before. I looked up into the sky to see if there were any ravens circling. All I saw were puffy white clouds. I was alone. I got to the rocks that led up to the mound that covered the flume, and climbed. The last time I had done that, Saint Dane was waiting for me on top. I didn’t want a repeat performance. I climbed anxiously and popped my head up over the edge to see…
Nothing. No evil demons in sight. Big relief. I climbed up onto the flat summit and kicked around a few rocks. I didn’t know what I was looking for. A hole that might lead down to the flume? A crack that could be worked on and opened up? A staircase? An elevator? I had no idea, and ended up finding the exact same thing I’d found on every trip-nothing. The flume was sealed tight.
I turned to begin the climb back down and finally did see something that was out of the ordinary. It was floating about a hundred yards offshore. It had already made its way through the two fingers of land that nearly enclosed the Bay of Rayne, and it was headed toward the village. At first I thought it was a small boat that one of the fishermen had taken out, but it was too small for that. The shape was all wrong too. It wasn’t a boat. It took a few seconds for me to realize what I was looking at.
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 dec
ided 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
Loquewas 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 thinkLoquewould 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.
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