The Rivers of Zadaa

by D. J. MacHale

  During the time I spent in that blast furnace of a training camp, fear was definitely my friend. It’s not that I was afraid of the training, or of getting hurt again, or of anything Loor or Alder would do to me. What I feared was Saint Dane. I knew that if I wasn’t able to defend myself, I could be in for another beating like I had gotten at the Ghee compound. If Pelle a Zinj hadn’t shown up, I would have died. I’m certain of that. The next time, I might not be so lucky. It was the fear of taking another beating that helped me to keep going. And I needed that help, because what Loor put me through was beyond anything I had expected. I wanted her to teach me a couple of moves, show me how to use one of those wooden weapons to ward off an attack and get in a couple of shots of my own.

  What I got instead was a crash course in Warrior Hell, 101.

  Loor, Alder, and I made ourselves at home in one of the sandstone bunkhouses that once had been used for young kids who came to Mooraj to be tested. Once inside the hut, it actually reminded me of my bunkhouse at the camp I went to as a kid. There were beds lined up along the walls to make use of every bit of space. But rather than being made from wood, with musty-smelling mattresses, these bunks were low, stone tables with grass mats. The place looked as if it had been abandoned quickly. There were still cups on tables and pieces of clothing scattered around. It was cooler inside too…by about a degree and a half. Still, it was a relief to get out of the sun.

  We each picked a bed, and I lay down, happy to be horizontal. As I wrote before, I was pretty much healed, but I was totally out of shape from lying around for so long. I was going to have to get my strength back fast to go through Loor’s training, and whatever else lay ahead. We took the time to rest and bring Alder up to speed on all that was happening on Zadaa. The drought, the two tribes, the growing tension between the tribes, and the power struggle within the Ghee to either attack the Rokador or stay loyal to the family of Zinj and negotiate peace. Of course, we also told Alder about how Saint Dane went wild and beat me like a piñata, which was pretty much why we were at the camp to train.

  Alder listened to everything, nodding in understanding, taking it all in. The only time he reacted with emotion was when I told him that Uncle Press was dead. The news made him wince. Uncle Press had played a huge role in saving Denduron.

  “I am sorry” was all he could say.

  I nodded. So was I. “So here we sit,” I finally said. “You and Loor have the impossible job of teaching me how to defend myself. But more important is figuring out what part Saint Dane is playing here on Zadaa.”

  “If he has taken the form of a Ghee warrior,” Alder said, “he must be trying to convince the Batu to attack the Rokador. Starting wars is what he does best.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But there’s got to be more to it than that. There always is.”

  “Besides,” Loor added. “The rebel Ghee are powerful, but I do not believe they are strong enough to convince the people of Xhaxhu to go against the wishes of the royal family. Pelle a Zinj does not want war. The rebel Ghee may complain and threaten, but they will not go against generations of tradition. They know it would tear the Batu apart.”

  Alder and I looked at Loor. She didn’t realize what she had just said.

  “Isn’t that exactly the kind of thing Saint Dane would go for?” I asked. “Tearing a powerful tribe apart?”

  “Yes,” Loor answered coldly. “But our traditions are strong. He may try, but he will fail.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that. Neither was Alder. “Hunger and thirst are powerful weapons,” he said quietly.

  “Exactly,” I agreed. “That’s why I think Saint Dane is playing a bigger part in all this. I mean, what’s causing all the problems in the first place?”

  “The drought?” Loor asked. “Saint Dane has no power over the weather.”

  “No,” I said. “But the bottom line here is lack of water. No drought, no tension, no war.”

  “Saint Dane must have seen the drought coming. That is why he is here,” Loor suggested.

  “Maybe,” I said. “But Saint Dane doesn’t leave things to chance. I think there’s something else going on. I have no idea what it might be, but I’ll bet I know where to find out.”

  “Where is that?” Alder asked.

  “The underground,” I answered. “So far we’ve only seen the Batu side of this mess. We’ve got to find out what’s happening with the Rokador. They control the rivers of Zadaa. My guess is, if we want to find Saint Dane, we’ve got to go below and maybe go to that city where the Rokador leaders are. What’s it called?”

  “Kidik,” Loor answered. “That would be dangerous,” she said.

  “Yup,” I shot back. “That’s why we’re here right now, to make sure we’ve all got a chance of getting in and out alive.”

  Loor nodded, thinking this over. She got up and stood in front of me.

  “Stand up,” she ordered.

  I got to my feet slowly. In the short time since we had been lying down, my muscles had already gone stiff. I think I was getting a taste of what it’s like to be eighty. I stood in front of Loor, looking into her eyes. She was an inch or two taller than me. I resisted the temptation to go up on my toes. She grabbed my arm, feeling my bicep. With a quick, dismissive “humph,” she checked my other arm. She turned me around and felt my lats, then down to my legs, where she clasped my quads, and then my calves. I felt like a horse being examined before being sent to auction. To be honest, I didn’t mind it…until Loor said, “You are weak.”

  “Hey, I’ve been hurt, remember?” I said defensively. “My muscle tone is shot.”

  “That is true,” Loor said dismissively. “But there was not much there to begin with.”

  I bit my lip. She was the expert, but being told that I was a puny, pathetic specimen didn’t do much for my ego. Or confidence.

  “Does that mean it’s hopeless?” I asked.

  “No,” she answered with a sigh. “It means you must learn to be clever, because you will never win a fight with force.”

  Oh.

  Not that I really expected it, but once I made the decision, I have to admit that there were a few times I envisioned myself becoming a warrior who was all cut up and fierce looking. I guess that would be a little much to ask for, seeing as we didn’t have much time and I had been hurt and—Oh, who am I kidding? I had no chance of coming close to the kind of warrior Loor was. Never did. But I needed to know how to defend myself. So I put my ego aside and took the criticism as constructive.

  “What do we do first?” I asked.

  “We rest,” Loor answered. “Saangi will return soon with our provisions. We will eat, then sleep. Tomorrow morning we will begin.”

  So far it sounded pretty cake. Saangi returned to Mooraj a few hours later, bringing with her more food than I could have imagined. She had a sack full of bread and fruit and some kind of nutty-tasting cheese that I couldn’t get enough of. She also brought a large, leather bag filled with water. Precious water. If we were going to be working out, we needed as much as possible. After we had eaten our fill, I said, “Thank you, Saangi. You’re amazing.”

  “It is my job,” she said with a shrug. “I will leave now and bring more.”

  “No,” Loor ordered. “We have plenty for now. I will need you here tomorrow, when the training begins.”

  Saangi’s eyes lit up.

  “I will take part?” she asked hopefully.

  “Of course,” Loor said. “Did I not promise that?”

  Suddenly Saangi wasn’t so sour anymore. She opened up and told us all about how she collected the fruit and smuggled the water into the underground, all under the noses of the Ghee. I liked Saangi…most of the time. Other times she was kind of a loose cannon. As long as things were going her way, she was fine. But if things didn’t go the way she liked, she let you know it. I suppose it’s okay to be moody, as long as you know when to let it go. I guess what I’m saying is that I didn’t entirely trust Saangi. Not that I thought she was again
st me or anything, but I wasn’t convinced that if things got scary, I could count on her.

  To be honest, the thought also crossed my mind that she might have been Saint Dane in disguise. I couldn’t totally dismiss that possibility, but I couldn’t dwell on it. If I started thinking that way, I’d have to look at everybody I met as possibly being Saint Dane, and I’d turn into a paranoid wreck. I had to be trusting, but wary.

  “We must sleep now,” Loor announced. “We begin first thing in the morning.”

  “First thing” felt as if it came about two minutes after I lay down to go to sleep. It was pitch dark. I was having a sweet dream about bouncing along on a skimmer on the beautiful, warm waters of Cloral. I hit some waves and got buffeted, but stayed upright, handling the rough motion. That is, until I realized it wasn’t a dream. Loor was shaking me awake.

  “Get up,” she commanded.

  I struggled to get up on my elbows, only to see…nothing. It was pitch black.

  “Morning,” I said cheerily. “Isn’t it still last night?”

  “We must work now, before the sun comes up,” Loor explained. “Unless you’d prefer to work during the heat of the day.”

  I forced myself awake. “No, no, I’m with you. Cool is cool.”

  “Get dressed,” Loor ordered. “Meet us outside.”

  I heard the sound of Loor walking away. It was time to get my creaky bones up and moving. I figured we’d start out with a little road work like boxers do. Then we’d move on to some tactics and learn about weapons.

  We didn’t.

  I put on my Rokador jacket and sandals, then followed her outside. It was still pitch dark. I couldn’t see two feet in front of me and had to stretch my hands out in front for fear of walking into a wall. I found the doorway and stepped outside to ask, “What do we do—”

  Whack. I got smacked on the side of the head.

  “Hey!” I shouted. “What was that—”

  Smack. A shot came from the other side. It was so dark I had no idea who was hitting me, or from where. It didn’t hurt. Much. It was more about the surprise.

  “A simple game,” Loor said.

  “Game?” I shouted angrily. “I can’t see a thing.”

  Whack. I got hit on the shoulder.

  “Yes, you can,” Loor said calmly.

  Smack. Whap. I got rocked twice; the second time I fell to the ground.

  “No, I can’t! Give me a break, it’s dark!” I complained.

  “Do not get angry,” said Saangi’s voice. “Anger leads to mistakes.”

  I jumped back to my feet. It was two-on-one. A minute before, I was happily dreaming about Cloral. Now my adrenaline was spiked as I vainly tried to defend myself against these aggressive ghosts.

  “How do I win this game?” I asked.

  “The spikes bring reward,” Loor said from nowhere.

  “Spikes? What spikes?”

  Whap. I got hit again. They were using open hands, so I wasn’t getting hurt, but it stung getting slapped around like this. I spun around, hands out, hoping to hit something. Anything. All I got was air.

  “Control, Pendragon,” Alder said calmly…just before he hit me in the gut.

  Great. Three-on-one. The whole gang was there, taking shots. I was breathing hard and sweating—and already tired.

  “Conserve your energy,” Loor said, as if she could read my mind.

  Smack. Smack. Hands came out of nowhere, hitting me quickly and then disappearing. I glanced up to the sky.

  “The sun will not be up for a while,” Saangi said.

  How did she know what I was thinking?

  “You can hear us,” Loor said softly. “You can smell us. You can feel the heat of our bodies.”

  Smack. Whack. Whap. No, I couldn’t. Anger gave way to frustration.

  “This is stupid,” I shouted, and immediately got hit with a barrage of shots that spun me around.

  “Feel us,” Alder said.

  I took a breath. I tried to sense where they might be. I couldn’t. Instead I got hit with so many shots that I was nearly rocked off my feet.

  “Stop!” I shouted. “You want me back in the hospital?”

  There was no answer. No instruction. No comment.

  “Time-out, okay?”

  No answer.

  “C’mon, this is dumb.”

  Nobody responded.

  “Loor? Get serious, all right?”

  Still no answer. I still couldn’t see a thing. I took a few steps and walked into a wall. Ow! I backed off and fell on my butt.

  “This sucks!” I shouted in frustration. I knew they weren’t going to hurt me, at least not seriously, but still. Their smacks stung! And not knowing when or where they would come from made it even worse. I couldn’t defend myself. I couldn’t fight back. I felt totally helpless. And tired. And sore. And angry. I had no idea what this had to do with training as a warrior, but one thing was pretty clear: I was at their mercy, and they weren’t going to stop just because I complained.

  A quick glance at the horizon showed me that the dark sky was growing lighter. I willed the sun to hurry up so I could see what was going on. I figured that once I could see, at least I’d have a chance to defend myself. I didn’t risk standing up again because I was still disoriented. I got on my knees and crawled with my arm out to feel for the wall I had introduced my head to. I felt the rough stone, put my shoulder to it, and cautiously crawled away. I figured if they wanted to smack me around, they were going to have to find me. After crawling a few yards, I came to a doorway. I quickly rolled inside and sat with my back to the wall to catch my breath and wait for light.

  I kept glancing out toward the dark compound. My heart raced because I didn’t know if another attack would come, or from where. It was torture! I had to force myself to control my breathing. And listen. If I couldn’t see them, I thought maybe I could hear them coming. But the only sound I heard was the distant wail of the desert wind. Eventually I started making out shapes in the Mooraj compound. Light was coming, and with it, relief. I no longer cared that daytime would bring burning heat. Heat was fine, so long as I could see.

  A few minutes later it got light enough that I could see something odd in the middle of the compound. A structure had been erected that wasn’t there yesterday. There were three sticks, each about six feet long, forming a tepee. Hanging down in the middle of this frame was a small, black bag that I recognized as a canteen. A canteen! Water! I suddenly realized how thirsty I was. I wanted that water. Loor said the spikes brought reward. Were these the spikes? I didn’t care. I was too thirsty to care. Without thinking another second, I got to my feet and sprinted for the center of the compound. My eyes were locked on the canteen. My only thought was to get a drink. I was nearly there. I could taste the water. I never thought that this could be a trap. I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly. One second I was sprinting for the tepee, the next second I tripped and did a full-on face-plant into the sand. Ouch. I looked back to see that another long stick had been tossed in front of me. That’s why my feet got tangled and I ate sand.

  Looking up, I saw Loor standing over me, holding still another one of those long sticks. “You have not earned that water,” she said coldly.

  “This is stupid!” I shouted angrily. “What are you trying to do, kill me?”

  Loor stood there, staring at me, holding her long stick like a weapon. I realized that these thin sticks were the exact same size as the wooden weapons the Ghee used, but they were thin and hollow, like bamboo. I also saw that strapped to her elbows and her knees were red, wooden sticks. Spikes. They were around an inch thick and stuck out about six inches. I remembered seeing these before. When Spader and I came to Zadaa, we saw the Ghee warriors playing a game that was like capture the flag. All the warriors wore these wooden spikes. Instead of beating each other up, the idea was to knock off their opponents spikes, sort of like in flag football. If you lost all your spikes, you were “dead” and had to leave the game.

  “Oh, I
get it,” I said snottily. “I’m supposed to knock off those spikes to get water? Forget it. I don’t want to play this game. I asked you to train me to be a warrior, not put me through some kind of initiation.”

  I moved to get up, but Loor poked me in the chest, knocking me back down.

  “Stop it!” I shouted. “I’m done, all right!”

  “I cannot give you physical strength, Pendragon,” Loor said coldly. “Nor can I give you the skills to fight in the short time we have. Our only hope is to train you to think as a warrior, and to act without thinking.”

  “What?” I shot back. “That’s nothing!”

  “No,” she said quickly. “It is everything. You have the courage. You have the wisdom. You are agile and quick to react. Those tools are far more useful than physical strength. But they must be developed.”

  “All I wanted was to learn how to use a weapon,” I complained.

  Loor tossed her stick aside and said, “Very well. Take one of my spikes and the water is yours.”

  I slowly got to my feet. Loor was now weaponless, but I wasn’t dumb enough to think she couldn’t still kick my butt. This wasn’t going to be a fight—it was about my grabbing one of those red spikes. How tough could it be? I approached her cautiously. She turned so that she no longer faced me head-on, but was leading with her right shoulder and hip. The wooden spikes now pointed at me, teasingly close. All I had to do was reach out and grab one. I quickly grabbed for her shoulder, but it was a fake and I went for the spike on her knee.

  She didn’t go for the fake and flicked my hand away as easily as if she were batting away a mosquito. I grabbed at her elbow, she shifted slightly and pushed me forward, nearly knocking me off my feet. I got mad. I dove to the ground, rolled and reached for the spike on her knee. She sidestepped. I didn’t come close. I jumped back up and went straight for her, grabbing furiously. She calmly batted me away again and again. And again. It was embarrassing. I felt like a little kid trying to get my hat back from the school bully. Finally, in frustration, I swept the thin bamboo weapon off the ground and swung it at her. I didn’t want to hit her, I just wanted her to knock it away so I could go in and grab one of the spikes. I swung, she stepped aside, grabbed the other end, and yanked it down so hard it pulled me off my feet. I let go, but not before being dragged to my knees, out of breath and exhausted.