The Merchant of Death tpa-1

by D. J. MacHale

  I looked up to my left to see where the sound was coming from. Imagine a huge, five-story castle carved into the bluffs. That was the Bedoowan palace, and it was about to fall down. The horrible creaking sounds were the palace’s last desperate gasp at trying to hang on to its perch. But it was no use. The force of the exploding tak was tearing it apart. Cracks appeared like spiderwebs all over the stone castle. For a moment I thought it would dissolve into a billion pieces. But with one last groan the giant palace pulled free of the bluff and slowly began to lean over. In a final thunderous crack, the palace let go and toppled into the sea with a monstrous splash.

  If the swift current had been running the other way, Loor and I would have been right under it. And though we were clear of the tumbling palace, we weren’t safe yet. When the huge building hit, it created a monster surge of water that was headed right for us. If we didn’t ride this thing, we’d drown for sure. So I faced the oncoming rush, prepared to ride it like a wave. We both rose with the huge swell and came down on the other side safely. Unlike regular wave sets, there was no second wave to worry about. This was a one-time phenomenon, and we had survived it.

  Once the immediate danger had past, I looked at the castle. Or should I say, at what was left of it. The giant structure had hit the water and rolled over. One whole side was above water. I looked up to the bluffs to see a gaping scar that used to be the palace. The only thing left was the heavy columns it had been built upon.

  I then realized that the flames had stopped shooting out of the mine airshafts. The rumbling had stopped too. The explosion was over-and we were still alive! Now all we had to do was get to shore. I tried to push the ore car along, but that was more trouble than it was worth. So I kicked the car away, but not without a nod of gratitude, for it had saved our lives.

  It didn’t take long for me to get Loor to shore. When I got us close enough for my feet to touch sand, I stood up and put her on my back with a fireman’s carry again. It wasn’t easy. My adrenaline surge was gone, and along with it, most of my strength. So after a difficult struggle I fell to my knees and slid Loor off of me onto the sand.

  Then I collapsed. I figured that as soon as I got my breath and Loor woke up, we’d make our way up the bluffs to find Uncle Press and Alder. I feared for what we would find up there, but didn’t have the energy left to worry. I wanted to enjoy being alive for a few moments, so I laid down on the sand, closed my eyes and crashed.

  I think I had earned it.

  Journal #4 (continued)

  Denduron

  Iprobably would have slept on that beach for weeks if I hadn’t been gently nudged awake by something tapping at my foot. As I slowly pulled out of slumberland, I remembered that giant freakin’ shark in the flume. I felt the tapping on my foot again and somehow made the connection between that feeling and the shark. Suddenly I was convinced that the shark had survived and was getting ready to bite off my feet. So I yelped and jumped up while pulling my legs closer for protection.

  Of course it wasn’t the shark. It was Loor. She was awake and trying to rouse me. She hadn’t expected my dramatic reaction though, and when I jumped, she did too.

  “I am sorry, Pendragon,” she said sheepishly. “I did not know you were ticklish.”

  Ticklish? I was too embarrassed to tell her why I really jumped. “No problem,” I said. “How do you feel?”

  She rubbed the nasty black and blue mark on her forehead and grimaced.

  “My head does not hurt as much as my pride,” she said.

  “What do you remember?” I asked.

  “There was something coming at us from the flume, but what I remember does not make sense.”

  “Yeah, it does,” I said. “It was a shark. Saint Dane didn’t want us to follow him.”

  Loor thought about this for a moment. I think she was hoping that her memory was a bad dream. “After that I do not remember much,” she continued. “But I do have memories of you carrying me. Was that a dream?”

  “No, it wasn’t,” I said.

  Loor frowned. At some point I would give her all the gory details of our escape, but now wasn’t the time. Loor was a proud warrior. It hurt her ego that it took a weakling like me to save her. I didn’t need to rub salt in the wound. Not yet anyway. Believe me, at some point I was going to get mileage out of this, but not now.

  “You continue to surprise me, Pendragon,” she said. “You have proven yourself to be brave and clever, and now it seems you react as a warrior would after all.” She paused, and then said, “Thank you.”

  She had just given me the highest praise she was capable of. In her mind I was worthy of being elevated to the lofty status of warrior. I wasn’t sure I agreed with her though. I was no warrior. Everything I did was out of total panic. I never felt as if I had a choice. In fact, I’d just as soon she didn’t consider me a warrior because I didn’t want her to expect any more heroics. As far as I was concerned, my Indiana Jones days were over. But I couldn’t say that so I gave her the simplest, best response possible.

  “You’re welcome.”

  I wondered if she had also forgiven me for the death of her mother, but I wasn’t about to go there. Loor looked out toward the water. The Bedoowan palace was a giant wreck that barely poked above the surface. Small waves lapped over it and a few seagulls explored its walls. In time the sea would eat away the stone and this mighty symbol of Bedoowan power would turn to sand. But right now it served as a reminder of the fall of the mighty Bedoowan. It was a perfect monument to their destruction.

  “Do you think many Bedoowan died?” asked Loor.

  “I don’t know,” was my answer. “I think most of them left to watch the battle. They’re going to get a big surprise when they go back home though.”

  “It is sad,” Loor said.

  She was right. The Bedoowan were a pretty advanced culture for this place. They could have used their knowledge to improve all of Denduron, but instead they chose to use their power and knowledge to enslave others. The truth was, none of this would have happened if the Bedoowan hadn’t abused the Milago. Saint Dane may have pushed it along, but the Bedoowan were already on the path. They had brought this on themselves.

  “What of the tak mine?” Loor asked.

  “It was a hell of a show,” I said. “I’ll bet that every ounce of tak was blown away. I don’t think we have to worry about the Milago using it anymore.”

  Loor then turned and looked me right in the eye. “If the explosion did this to the palace,” she said soberly, “then what of the Milago village?”

  That was a good question. My thoughts went immediately to Uncle Press and to Alder. Had they survived? I looked up toward the towering bluffs.

  “We’ve got to climb up,” I said, not really wanting to.

  We walked to the bluffs and searched for the best way up. This was going to be tough. It was steep and treacherous.

  “I can climb rock,” suggested Loor. “I will braid a rope with vines and we will tie ourselves together for safety. It will be dangerous, but we can make it.”

  “That sounds good,” I said while slowly scanning the bluffs. “Or we could take that path over there.”

  Loor looked to the path I was pointing to. It was narrow and there were dozens of switchbacks because it was so steep, but it was definitely a path.

  “Oh,” said Loor. “That could work too.”

  “C’mon,” I said with a smile, and started for the path. Loor followed silently.

  The hike up wasn’t horrible. The switchbacks kept the path from getting too steep, but made the trek very long. We didn’t talk much as we climbed. I can’t speak for Loor, but the closer we got to the top, the more I dreaded what we might find. The last we saw of the Bedoowan and the Milago they were headed for battle. Was the fight over? Did one tribe win? Or would we arrive at the summit to find the tak explosion had created a burned out hole that looked like the bottom of a volcano? I tried to put the worst of those thoughts out of my mind. We would learn the
truth soon enough.

  When we were nearly on the top, I stopped and looked at Loor. I felt that she was just as worried about what we would find as I was. Neither of us said it, but we both wanted to wait one more second before having to deal with whatever horror was waiting there. After a few moments Loor took a deep breath and nodded. I nodded in agreement and the two of us climbed the last few yards to the summit of the bluffs.

  What we saw on top was nothing like I had imagined. First off, it looked as if the surface had remained relatively intact after the tak explosion. There was no gaping volcano-like hole. That was good. Maybe the mine vents channeled away most of the power of the tak explosion after all.

  But still, things had changed. It looked as if all the violent action from the explosion took place underground, and the result on the surface was like a huge earthquake had hit. What had once been relatively flat land now looked like a roller coaster of mounds and depressions. The large, flat battlefield of sea grass where the Milago and the Bedoowan fought had been torn apart. Huge boulders had forced their way up from underground and gaping holes had opened up elsewhere. The tak explosion had dramatically torn the terrain apart, changing it forever.

  “We should get to the Milago village,” I said.

  The two of us walked cautiously back the way we knew would bring us to the village as quickly as possible. Though the terrain had become a tumultuous mess, there was something else that stood out even more dramatically. It was the people. There were hundreds of people wandering around in a daze. As we walked toward the village we saw Bedoowans and Novans and knights and miners. They all seemed to drift about in the same stunned haze. No one cared that they were among the enemy, either. Knights and miners passed each other without so much as a second glance. No one spoke, no one fought, no one was afraid. Everyone was just…stunned.

  There were bodies, too. I didn’t know if they were the victims of the tak explosion or the battle. They were being carried off the battlefield and laid next to each other. It didn’t matter if they were Bedoowan or Milago, they were laid side by side. As horrible as this was, I had feared there would be way more bodies than this. Between the battle and the tak explosion, I expected everyone to be wiped out. But it now seemed as though most everyone survived. Only a few unlucky victims lay next to each other beside the battlefield.

  Loor and I watched this strange scene silently as we made our way toward the village. We looked for the path that would lead us through the woods, but the path was gone. Most of the woods were gone too. Hundreds of trees had fallen and were piled up like pickup sticks. Finding our way through this maze of trees was tricky.

  Then I saw something that made me stop and stare. An injured miner was sitting near the stump of a fallen tree. His head was bleeding and he had to lean against the stump for support. A woman knelt beside him, tending to his wounds. She had a bucket of water and some rags. She dipped the cloth into the water and gently dabbed at the miner’s wound to clean it. She wasn’t rough, she wasn’t in a hurry. Her actions looked like a mother taking care of her child. Given all that had happened you wouldn’t think this scene was out of the ordinary, but it was. That’s because the woman taking care of the Milago miner was a Bedoowan.

  “I do not understand,” said Loor. “They are enemies.”

  “Maybe they found a common enemy,” was my reply.

  We picked our way through the toppled forest and found the Milago village. The place was a mess. Many huts were still standing, but most of them were badly damaged. Some were nothing more than a pile of rubble. The path that led through the village was now a mass of ruts, rocks, and rubble. I looked to the center of the village and to the platform where the Transfer ceremonies took place. It was destroyed. The large stone foundation was still there, but it was now scorched black. The platform was gone. I was about to suggest we look for Alder and Uncle Press when we heard a familiar voice.

  “Loor! Pendragon!”

  It was Alder. He was alive! The big bumbling knight came bounding toward us like a happy puppy. In his excitement he tripped over a rock and stumbled, and we caught him before he did a complete face plant. The catch turned into a hug for all of us.

  “I feared you were dead!” he exclaimed. “How did you escape from the palace?”

  “Long story,” I answered. “What happened up here?”

  “It was unbelievable!” he shouted. The guy was totally charged. “There was a battle. The Milago tried to defeat the Bedoowan with tak, but the tak ran out so the Milago charged and the two sides clashed and…and…that’s when it happened!”

  “What?” asked Loor, though she had a good idea what the answer was.

  “The ground came to life!” he shouted. “The earth began to move like the sea! The Milago and the Bedoowan stopped fighting and turned to run, but there was nowhere to go! Trees began to topple and huts fell and the sound…the sound was like thunder under the ground. And then came the fire-”

  He pointed at the charred remains of the platform in the center of the village. “Giant pillars of fire shot from the openings to the mines! The flames were like water geysers that shot high into the sky. And then…it was over.”

  Alder fell silent, letting us get our heads around all that he had said. After a moment he asked, “And where were you when this all happened?”

  I looked to Loor and she gave me a shrug. That meant she wanted me to answer.

  “Well,” I said. “We blew up the tak mine. I think that might have had a little something to do with all the excitement.”

  Alder stared at us with his mouth open in disbelief. He was having trouble processing the information.

  “Close your mouth,” I said. “Where’s Uncle Press?”

  “Uhhh, Press,” he said, snapping back to reality. “Right. Follow me.”

  Alder stumbled off and led us through the remains of the Milago village. As we approached a hut that was still fairly intact, Alder gave us the “shh” signal. Whatever we were going to see, he didn’t want us to be disruptive. He stayed close to the wall and peered around the corner. Loor and I joined him and looked around the corner as well.

  Several yards ahead was the hut that had once been Rellin’s. I remembered it because I had been there when he asked me to go back home and get more batteries. But the walls of the hut were gone. It was bizarre. There were people inside who acted as if they were in the hut, but they were really outside and…well, you get the picture. There were three people who looked to be having a heart-to-heart meeting. I’m thrilled to say that one of them was Uncle Press. He was alive and looking fine. I wanted to shout to him, but I realized he was in the middle of something heavy, so I bit my tongue.

  The second person I saw was Rellin. He looked like he had been through a war, which, in fact, he had. His leather clothes were in shreds and his bandaged arm was caked with dried blood, but he was alive. It was the third person in the hut that was the shocker.

  It was Queen Kagan. The woman sat on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, crying. I swear, she was crying like a two-year-old. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it looked as if Rellin was speaking to her softly, like a father might speak to a sad child. Uncle Press wasn’t saying anything. My guess was that he was there to act as a neutral peacemaker.

  It was then that Uncle Press saw us and broke out in a big grin. He excused himself and ran to us. He threw his arms around me like a big old bear and laughed like it was Christmas. I think he was even crying a little. To be honest, it made me laugh and cry a little bit too. How’s that for a couple of tough-ass Travelers to behave? He pulled us back around to the other side of the hut so we wouldn’t disturb Rellin and Queen Kagan, then threw his arm around Loor as well. I hadn’t seen Uncle Press act like that in forever. For the first time since this adventure began, he was my old Uncle Press again. It was good to have him back. He then pulled away and gave us both a good hard look.

  “What?” I finally said.

  “Was it you?” he asked
. “I mean, all this?” He motioned around to the destruction of the Milago village and I knew exactly what he meant. I looked to Loor. She shrugged, which was becoming our signal that she wanted me to do the talking.

  “Well,” I said. “Yeah.”

  Uncle Press burst out laughing. “I told you to get rid of the bomb, not set it off underground!”

  “We didn’t,” I said, and gave him a quick rundown as to what happened from the time he left us in the Bedoowan stadium. Though everything I told him was the absolute truth, I have to admit that it sounded pretty fantastic. I think the most amazing fact of all was that all of this destruction started when I threw down a pea-sized marble of tak. Talk about knocking over the first domino. Wow.

  Uncle Press listened closely. So did Alder. I didn’t think it was possible, but I believe that the story of our adventure in the tak mine shocked my uncle. I knew it stunned Alder; he still couldn’t close his mouth.

  “What about Saint Dane?” Uncle Press asked.

  “Gone,” I answered. “He jumped into the flume. We would have followed him except he sent back this giant monster shark to stop us. It worked.”

  “Monster shark? That means he’s on Cloral,” said Uncle Press thoughtfully.

  “Exactly!” I exclaimed. “How did you know?”

  “Because the quigs on Cloral are giant monster sharks,” was his simple answer.

  Of course! I should have known! Quigs on Second Earth are monster dogs, quigs on Denduron are monster bears, and quigs on Cloral are monster sharks. It was so simple. Everybody knew that. Mental note to self: Stay away from Cloral.

  “What’s going on over there?” I asked, referring to the meeting with Queen Kagan and Rellin. I was tired of thinking about quigs, no matter what form they took.