Black Water

by D. J. MacHale

  Yorn staggered to a bench and sat down. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was old and weak, or the surprise of seeing me knocked him for a loop.

  “He went to Second Earth, looking for you!” Yorn answered. “He had news of the Traveler you seek. The injured gar.”

  “Gunny?” I shouted.

  “Yes, Gunny.”

  “Where is he? Is he all right?”

  “I don’t know,” Yorn answered. “He and Seegen left on a journey several days ago. They wouldn’t tell me where they went. Then Seegen returned alone. As far as I know, Gunny’s harm does not go beyond the loss of his hand. He was attacked by a tang, you know.”

  I couldn’t believe it! Gunny was okay! Now I knew why he lost his hand—he was attacked by a tang. But he survived. That’s all that mattered.

  “There’s more, Pendragon,” Yorn continued. “Saint Dane is here on Eelong. He’s influencing the Council of Klee to begin a campaign that will wipe out the gars. Seegen went to Second Earth to tell you this and bring you back.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Kasha spat out. “Where is my father?”

  Yorn and I shared a look. Kasha didn’t have a clue. We ignored her.

  “I’ve got to get to the flume,” I said. “If Seegen is on Second Earth, he’s in trouble. A big cat roaming around Stony Brook is going to get—”

  “Kasha!” came a voice in the doorway. I looked to see a group of cats entering, led by the big cat named Durgen. It was the same group that was with Kasha when they were attacked by the tang the day before. I quickly backed away from Yorn and bent over like the animal I was . . . or was supposed to be.

  “What do you want, Durgen?” Kasha asked, annoyed.

  “We’ve got a forage,” Durgen answered.

  “No,” Kasha protested. “We’re off the schedule today.”

  “Not anymore,” the big cat answered.

  “Well I can’t,” she answered. “There may be a problem with my father and Yorn needs my help to—”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing the old klee can’t handle,” Durgen interrupted. “This is a direct order, Kasha.”

  Yorn glanced to me, but said nothing. Kasha made a quick move for the door.

  “Fine,” she said. “Let’s get out and back fast, all right?”

  Durgen asked, “What about the gar? You can’t leave him here.”

  “I’ll tend to him,” Yorn offered.

  “Nonsense,” the big cat replied. He grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me to my feet. I felt as helpless as a kitten, which is a strange way to put it under the circumstances. “After the attack yesterday we’re short a few gars. We can use this one. We’re going to the south country.”

  Yorn sat up straight, as if hearing this surprised him.

  “The south country?” Kasha asked, surprised as well. “There hasn’t been a forage there in months.”

  “Exactly,” Durgen answered. “There are acres of ripening fruit about to go bad.”

  “Yes, but it’s dangerous,” Kasha shot back. “There are huge packs of tangs in the south.”

  “That’s why we need all the gars we can get,” the big cat replied. “We’re probably going to lose a few on this one.” The cat looked Kasha right in the eye and said, “Since when were you afraid of a few extra tangs?”

  Kasha stiffened and said, “Did I say I was afraid? Let’s go.”

  Durgen gave me a shove toward the door. I stumbled but Kasha grabbed me before I could fall. I took a quick glance back at Yorn to see the old klee looking worried. Join the club. I had seen what happens to gars on a forage. Now I was about to experience it for myself.

  JOURNAL #17

  (CONTINUED)

  EELONG

  Up until that moment, my stay on Eelong had been a nightmare. It was about to get worse. Is there a word for something worse than a nightmare? If I could think of one, I’d use it. Saint Dane’s plan was clear. He was going to throw Eelong into chaos by thinning the gar population, which would tip the balance of nature and lead to the destruction of the klees. My plan was clear too. I had to find Seegen, the Traveler from Eelong, and get his help to find Gunny. Together, the three of us would try to stop Saint Dane. But as treacherous as that was going to be, I couldn’t even get started, because I was being shipped off on a suicide mission to run interference for a bunch of cats so they wouldn’t be killed by rampaging tangs while they harvested some fruit. How idiotic was that? The future of their entire world was at stake, and I had to go out and pick fruit in a war zone.

  I was really beginning to hate Eelong.

  It was morning. The sky was growing lighter. In no time I expected to see the sunbelt appear in the sky. The team of foragers led me and a few other gars down to the jungle floor and toward the corral where they kept the zenzen horses. There were five cats, along with three gars . . . and me. They lashed my hands together and tied me up to the other gars so we had to shuffle along like one of those chain gangs you see in prison movies. I’m not really sure why they did this, since the gars didn’t look like they were going anywhere. If there was anybody who wanted to beat feet out of there, it was me. Kasha walked ahead of us with the other klees. A few times she stole a glance back at me. I might be reading too much into this, but I thought I saw a touch of sympathy in her eyes. Maybe even a little worry. She knew I wasn’t ready for this. On the other hand, maybe she was thinking this would be a quick and easy way to get me out of her life, and her father’s life. Either way, I wasn’t real excited about how this day was shaping up.

  As we neared the zenzen corral, I looked ahead to see a big wagon with huge wooden wheels being driven toward us, pulled by two zenzens. Sitting in front with the reins was Boon. Loaded in back were a dozen more gars, all looking about as thrilled to be there as I was. Boon brought the wagon to a stop and shouted a friendly greeting. “Morning, everybody!” He spotted me and the smile fell from his face. “Whoa, not that gar. He’s useless.”

  I tried to look useless.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Durgen asked.

  Kasha answered, “He’s been sick. He’s weak. He won’t be able to harvest his weight.”

  That was good. Kasha was trying to get me out of this too. At least that meant she was on my side. Durgen felt my arms with his paws. I tried to shrink and act all weak, but there was only so much acting I could do. He lifted my chin and looked into my eyes. Finally he grabbed my hands and examined them. “He is soft,” the cat exclaimed. “But he doesn’t seem frail.” He dropped my hands, turned his back to me, and walked away. Suddenly he whipped around and threw his wooden weapon at me. I didn’t have time to think, only react. I caught the weapon before it beaned me. It was the wrong thing to do. I should have taken the hit. I gave a quick glance to Kasha, who looked to the ground in disappointment.

  “His reflexes are fine,” Durgen announced. “Better than most. And he’s the biggest one here. Even if he’s weak, he’ll harvest more than the rest. He comes.”

  Oh well. Nice try. The other three gars and I were shoved into the back of the wagon, where there was barely enough room to sit down. Most of the gars were men, but I saw a few women, too. They were all sitting on the hard, wooden floor. Not exactly a deluxe way to travel. I found a small opening between two gars. My first instinct was to be polite and ask, “Excuse me, can I sit there?” But I realized it would be a waste of breath, so I nudged my way in and sat down between the two without a word.

  “Let’s go!” Durgen shouted.

  Boon cracked the reins and the wagon lumbered forward. The crude wooden wagon bounced across the jungle floor. My aching butt felt every bump and divot. A few minutes later the giant doors swung open and we rolled out of Leeandra, headed for who knows what danger. Kasha and Durgen walked in front of the wagon, with the other three klees walking to the rear. As soon as we left the safety of Leeandra, the cats tensed up and grabbed their weapons. Their eyes darted back and forth, looking for any hint of danger.

  Between the threat of
tangs and the bumpy ride, I knew we were in for a long trip. All I could do was try to get comfortable and stare at the pathetic-looking gars who surrounded me. It was totally creepy. I was jammed in with a bunch of raggy-looking people who kept their eyes down. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised, but it was tough getting my mind around the fact that as much as they looked like humans, they weren’t. Expecting them to be social would be like expecting a bunch of cows to stand up and sing some reggae. And they smelled too. I don’t think any of them had a bath in, well, maybe never.

  As we bumped along the dirt road, one of the cats tossed a bag into the center of the wagon. The gars dove for it, tearing it apart and pulling out what looked to be pieces of fruit. They looked like apples, but they were bright blue. The gars fought over them like it was their last meal. The sick thought occurred to me that for some of them, it probably was. I hoped I wasn’t one of them. I didn’t join the fight. I didn’t have much of an appetite.

  Have I mentioned that I was really beginning to hate Eelong?

  We rode for about an hour. Every so often Boon would glance back from his driver’s seat to see if I was okay. All I could do was offer him a weak smile to assure him that I was fine . . . in spite of my aching butt. Boon would nod in sympathy.

  We finally broke out of the jungle and rolled into a vast clearing. At first I thought this would be the farm where we’d stop and pick the fruit, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. This was a farm, all right. The wagon had stopped on the edge of what looked like a vast cornfield. But rather than green husks shielding yellow ears of corn, these plants grew the same blue apples that were thrown into the wagon earlier.

  And there was something else. Lying amid the rows of plants were dead tangs. Lots of them. It didn’t look like there had been a fight or anything. All these tangs looked as if they just lay down . . . and died. Not that I felt bad for these monsters, but it was totally creepy.

  Durgen took a step away from the wagon and surveyed the carnage. Kasha walked up to him and asked, “What happened here?”

  Durgen looked troubled. “There have been reports of some crops turning foul. These tangs stopped at the wrong farm.”

  “But how could this happen?” Kasha asked. “Did the fruit simply turn rotten from being overripe?”

  “That’s my guess,” Durgen answered. “But whatever the reason, with the food shortage we can’t afford to let this happen again. Which is all the more reason to be out here and harvest what we can. Let’s keep moving.”

  The wagon began rolling again. I saw that every few rows held more dead tangs. As horrible as it was, it gave me a slight bit of hope that maybe enough tangs had been killed off so they wouldn’t bother us. On the other hand, if the fruit out here had become poisonous, I wasn’t too thrilled about having to pick any of it. I was suddenly relieved I hadn’t eaten any of the blue apples that were thrown into the wagon.

  We soon left the farm and followed the path back into the jungle. I was happy to leave the tang graveyard behind.

  “Death place,” whispered a weak voice next to me. I was so shocked, I actually jerked back. I looked to where the voice came from but saw only the gars, staring out at the carnage with wide, scared eyes.

  Then another voice said, “Time soon.”

  I whipped around to see another gar.

  “You can talk?” I whispered, because I didn’t want the klees to hear.

  The gar looked at me. For the first time I saw signs of intelligent life. He let out a small smile and said, “Time soon.”

  I was stunned. The gar could speak! This was incredible. These creatures were being treated like animals, and don’t get me wrong, they acted like animals, but they could speak! They had intelligence! Why didn’t Boon tell me this? Or Kasha? How could the klees treat gars like cattle when they had an intellect?

  I looked at the other gars in the wagon, and froze. They were all looking at me with these strange smiles. I didn’t know how to react. They didn’t look dangerous or anything. Just the opposite. They all looked at me with what I can best describe as . . . love. I’m serious. You know that look. It’s the proud look you get from your parents when you’re playing tuba in some lame-o concert at school, and they’re thinking you’re ready for Carnegie Hall. I had seen that look once before, other than from my parents, that is. It was in the arena on Denduron, when the poor Milago miner was about to be attacked by the quig. Remember that? The old miner saw my face in the crowd, and even though he was about to die, he stood up straight and gave me a smile of strength. It creeped me out then, and it was creeping me out in that wagon on Eelong. What did these people see in me? Did they know I was a Traveler who was trying to save them from Saint Dane? That was impossible . . . wasn’t it?

  I felt a tap on my shoulder and looked back to the gar who first spoke. He held out his hand. In his open palm was something I recognized. It was a small, amber cube like the one I had seen the two gars petting back in Leeandra. A closer look showed me that it was definitely made of some kind of crystal. But one of the sides was black. I looked at the strange object, not sure of what to do. He didn’t want me to take it, it was more like he was showing it off.

  “What is it?” I whispered, not sure if he’d understand.

  The gar cocked his head, as if he were surprised I didn’t know what it was.

  “Black Water,” the gar said.

  I had absolutely no freakin’ idea of what he was talking about. Heck, I was still thrown by the fact that he could talk. That’s when a gar sitting across from me said, “Black Water.”

  He too was holding one of the small cubes. I glanced to the front of the wagon and saw that two more gars had cubes. They each held them up with two hands like they were fragile, precious treasures.

  “Soon,” another gar said, and the others nodded.

  “Soon what?” I asked.

  “Home,” another said.

  Before I could ask them any more, the wagon came to an abrupt stop. The gars quickly hid their cubes, which told me they didn’t want the klees to know about them. Very interesting. Now I was faced with a difficult choice. I felt as if the only way I’d learn about these cubes would be to ask Boon or Kasha. But if the gars didn’t want the klees to know about them, would I be betraying their confidence? Boon and Kasha were on my side. At least Boon was. But they were klees, and klees were about to start hunting the gars, which is exactly what I had to prevent. What was I supposed to do? My head was starting to hurt as much as my butt.

  “Everybody out!” shouted Durgen.

  He threw open the back of the wagon and we all climbed out. One cat untied our restraints while another handed us each a large, empty sack. Once I got the circulation back in my legs, I looked around to see where we were. Since I had been so focused on the gars in the wagon, I hadn’t noticed that we had emerged from the jungle and arrived at another farm. A quick look around showed that there were no tang bodies lying around. Durgen walked up to the first row of plants and plucked off one of the blue apples. He strode back toward the wagon and tossed the fruit to a gar who was standing next to me.

  “Eat,” he ordered.

  The gar looked at the blue apple like it was poison. I didn’t blame him. It might have been.

  “Now!” Durgen yelled.

  The gar closed his eyes and took a bite.

  “More!” Durgen commanded.

  The frightened gar took a few more bites and reluctantly swallowed. We all watched him, expecting . . . I don’t know what. Would he fall down dead like the tangs?

  He didn’t. The gar looked visibly relieved and hungrily gnawed on the rest of the apple. But he didn’t get far because Durgen knocked it out of his hands. I was beginning to have some serious issues with this Durgen character.

  “The fruit is fine here,” he bellowed to everyone. “This is where we harvest.”

  Oh joy.

  Suddenly I was grabbed roughly by the back of my shirt and yanked away from the group. “Don’t try to run awa
y, gar!” a klee hissed at me.

  It was Kasha. She pulled me far enough away from the group so they couldn’t hear what we were saying. She gave me a rough shove that nearly threw me to the ground.

  “Hey, easy!” I complained.

  “We need to talk,” she said.

  “What happened to that farm back there? Why did those tangs die?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” Kasha answered. “But if you want to stay alive, listen to me. Do what you are told. Be sure to stay near the center of the pack. The tangs attack from the outside in.”

  “You didn’t tell me gars could talk,” I said. “They’re intelligent. They aren’t animals.”

  “Pendragon, are you listening to me?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Outside in. How could the klees want to hunt intelligent life?”

  Kasha gave a quick glance behind me. I turned to see Durgen stalking toward us. “Do as I say, Pendragon,” Kasha said quickly. She gave me a kick and I fell at Durgen’s feet. “I was making sure he will carry his weight,” Kasha explained to Durgen.

  Kasha was definitely playing this up for Durgen’s sake, but I think she was enjoying it a little. Durgen lifted me up by my shirt. I was really getting sick of being handled like a doll.

  “Good,” he said. “Then he will lead the pack.” He shoved me in the direction of the other gars. I didn’t know what he meant by leading the pack, but whatever it was, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t like it.

  The klees herded the gars together, shoulder to shoulder. I was in dead center. That was good. Tangs attacked from the outside in. But I was told to walk forward first, into the tall stalks. The others were to follow me, slightly behind and spread out like an arrowhead. That was bad. I was the tip of the arrow. If there was a hungry tang lying in wait inside those plants, I’d be the first one to reach it. I gave a quick glance back to see Boon sitting in the driver’s seat of the wagon, looking helpless. I heard a loud crack and felt a sharp, stinging pain on my back. Yeow! I looked the other way to see Durgen standing there with a long strap he used like a whip.