The Rivers of Zadaa

by D. J. MacHale

  “We’ve got to keep going,” I said.

  We started down. The stairs were steep and long. Looking to either side, I saw that every thirty feet or so a flat ramp was carved into the stairs that was about ten feet wide. I figured this is where the dygos went up and down so they wouldn’t chew up the stairs.

  “What is that sound?” I asked. “It’s making me crazy.”

  Loor shrugged. She didn’t have any more of a clue than I did. As we descended the steps it got cooler. Soon we were hit with a stiff breeze. Whatever was making this breeze had to be causing the howl, too. But what was it?

  Loor saw it first. She was several steps farther down than I was, nearing the bottom of the stairs. The ceiling of the tunnel was dropping down on the same angle as the stairs, preventing us from seeing directly ahead until we were almost at the bottom. When Loor dropped below the ceiling, she was able to see what lay ahead. It was a large, empty cavern with a stone floor. Nothing all that out of the ordinary, at least for the underground world of the Rokador, anyway. She stepped down onto the stone floor, and looked to her right. What happened then was something that I never thought possible. On an adventure full of surprises, this one ranked right up there near the top.

  Loor froze…and dropped her stave.

  Uh-oh. Whatever she was looking at had shocked her so badly that she dropped her weapon. Let me write that again. Loor was so shocked, she dropped her weapon. Loor. I don’t have to tell you how wrong that was. I hesitated a second. If something out there was so incredible that it could make Loor drop her weapon in shock, I wasn’t so sure I wanted to see it. Of course, I had to. I grasped my stave tighter, in case I had the same reaction. Slowly I continued down. To be honest, I kind of squinted. I could still see, but somehow squinting made it easier to take, like I was in control. I used to do that in horror movies. I wouldn’t fully close my eyes, I’d just squint. That way, if something icky jumped out, I could close them quick.

  But no amount of squinting helped prepare me for what I saw when I hit the bottom of the stairs and turned to my right. I discovered what was making the moaning sound. It was wind. The mystery was solved, though a much bigger mystery had taken its place. What we saw was impossible, yet real—as real as the desert sand on the surface, miles above. Stretched out before us, as far as could be seen, was an ocean. An honest-to-god, underground ocean. The moaning wind slashed across the surface, kicking up whitecaps. I could feel moist air hitting me in the face. The sight was so impossible and so wrong, I’m surprised I didn’t drop my weapon too.

  I walked to Loor, and without taking my eyes off the water, I said, “Now there’s something you don’t see every day.”

  Loor couldn’t speak. It was like her brain wouldn’t accept it. But it was no illusion. A forty-yard-span of stone floor stretched between us and the water. I left the cavern at the base of the stairs, passed under an archway, and walked across the deck to the edge of the water. There was something I had to know. I got down on my belly, and scooped up a handful of water. Touching it to my lips, I instantly realized that somebody somewhere had some serious questions to answer. This was freshwater. It was drinkable. I had no idea how deep it was, but the surface was vast. I had no doubt that there was enough water here to feed the rivers of Zadaa and end the drought.

  Loor walked up behind me. “Someone will pay for this,” she said while staring out over the water. “My people are starving and there is enough water here to…” She didn’t finish the sentence, that’s how ticked she was. She gazed from right to left and said, “There.” She was pointing to the right of us, where I saw that tied to the stone deck, bobbing in the water, was a small boat.

  “Bokka said a vehicle was waiting to take us to the center,” I said. “Do you think—”

  Loor’s answer was to walk quickly toward the boat. I followed. Without another word we boarded. It was about the size of a rowboat and made out of the same silver steel as the dygo. There was nothing sleek or modern about it, though. It looked to have been hammered out of sheet metal into a shape that was kind of like a Boston whaler with two bows. One end had a tiller, which made it the stern. Loor went right to work. There was a small control panel in the stern that reminded me of the instrument panel in the dygo. Loor toggled a switch, and I heard an engine start up with a low growl.

  “Can you handle this thing?” I asked.

  With one quick move she tossed the line back on the deck and gunned the engine. That meant yes. I sat down in the bow quickly, and not a second too soon. If I had been standing, I would have toppled. Loor kicked the throttle open and in no time we were bouncing across the waves. This wasn’t a pleasant skimmer ride, like on Cloral. This was more like being in a small boat on the choppy Long Island Sound at home. It was dark, too. Once we got away from Kidik, there were no lights to guide our way. Of course, there was no moon or stars above either. Only the rock ceiling. I glanced back to Kidik and saw a giant wall of stone. At the base was the opening that led to the cavern at the bottom of the stairs we had just come through. The platform and cavern were lit up, but this light wasn’t anywhere near powerful enough to help us see farther out over the dark ocean. I tried to memorize where this opening was, since we would have to come back this way. At least I hoped we’d be coming back.

  Loor was focused. Her jaw set. She had been hit with a lot over the past few hours. I had no idea how close to the edge she was. I figured the best thing to do was try and diffuse her anger.

  “Yeah, it sucks,” I said. “Bokka is dead, and it looks like the Rokador have been hoarding water from the Batu. But we gotta stay focused. There’s more to come, I guarantee it. I need to know you’re with me.”

  That was pretty harsh. Basically I’d just told Loor I was worried that she’d let her emotions take over to the point where she’d do something dumb. Spader had done that, more than once, and it cost us. I couldn’t allow Loor to do the same thing.

  “This has become personal, Pendragon,” Loor said. “My best friend is dead, and my people are starving. If this is the work of Saint Dane, he will suffer for it.”

  I felt the anger in her voice. We had reached a crossroads. I couldn’t blow this. It was my job.

  “You’re not the only one who’s lost friends and family,” I said just as firmly. “Yours isn’t the only territory in trouble. We’ve come too far to let Saint Dane goad us into doing something stupid. We’ve all made mistakes. Big ones, and we’ve paid for them. I will not let you do it too. Not here. Take a breath and get your head back in the game!”

  My eyes stayed locked on hers. I wasn’t about to blink. Loor was supremely confident in everything she did. That was her. But she wasn’t stupid. She gave me a slight nod. My words had struck home. I could feel the tension melt. “Do not worry, Pendragon. I have not lost sight.” Her voice was softer. I still felt the intensity, but she was now in control. She was with me.

  “Good,” I said. “Now, where the heck are we going?”

  Loor pointed ahead. I turned around and saw a single light glowing in the distance.

  “That’s as good a choice as any,” I said.

  Loor kept us headed for the light. I’d say we traveled for about half an hour. That’s how big this underwater ocean was. As we got closer, we could see that it wasn’t a single light at all—it was several. They were torches. Six of them. The flickering light illuminated enough of the surroundings that I could see we were approaching a shore. As we drew even closer, I saw that one torch wasn’t lit.

  “Six flaming torches surrounding one dark torch,” I said. “I wonder if that’s some kind of symbol?”

  “The dark one is not a torch,” Loor observed.

  I squinted to try and see better, and sure enough, standing at the center of the ring of torches was a person. It was kind of creepy. The guy stood there, alone, stock-still, with the torches burning around him. Was it some kind of Rokador ceremony? He didn’t seem to be dressed in the classic white robes of a Rokador. He was wearing all bla
ck.

  “Should I land the boat near him?” Loor asked.

  “I guess,” I said. “I don’t think it would be a trap because nobody knows we’re—uh-oh.”

  My mouth went dry.

  “What?” Loor asked.

  I wanted to be sure I was right, so I didn’t answer right away. As we drew closer and I saw the truth, I still couldn’t answer because my brain wouldn’t kick my tongue into gear.

  “Pendragon?” Loor asked. “Could it be?”

  I didn’t have to answer. Loor knew. Standing in the sand, surrounded by torches, was a tall man wearing a dark suit. He was completely bald. We were still too far away to see the angry red veins that slashed across his head from front to back, like bloody lightning bolts. But even from this distance, I could see his eyes. His blue-white eyes. They caught the light from the flames, dancing like he was possessed by some evil, inner glow. Because he was. As we drew closer to shore, he actually smiled and lifted his hand to give us a slight wave.

  We were being welcomed…by Saint Dane.

  JOURNAL #22

  (CONTINUED)

  ZADAA

  Loor had one hand on the tiller. With the other hand she went for her weapon.

  “Don’t,” I warned.

  “I can end this here, Pendragon,” Loor said through clenched teeth.

  “No, you can’t,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. It wasn’t easy since my adrenaline had just spiked too. “We gotta know what’s going on.”

  Loor’s eyes were laser-locked on to Saint Dane. This was the guy who was responsible for killing her mother, and possibly her best friend, not to mention all the other mayhem he caused on his mad quest to control Halla. Loor wasn’t the type to negotiate with her enemies. She was more inclined to whack first, then not bother asking questions later.

  “If he’s showing himself like this, he wants to talk,” I said. “We’ve got to listen. It’s the only way we can find out what’s been happening.”

  I knew we had to play this Saint Dane’s way. There were bigger issues involved, not the least of which was the future of Halla. Picking a fight with Saint Dane wasn’t going to help. Imagine that? Me trying to protect Saint Dane from Loor.

  Loor tore her eyes from Saint Dane and looked at me. “I will listen to him, Pendragon,” she said, but it sounded like it physically hurt her to say it. I hoped she meant it. She guided the boat onto the sandy shore. I jumped out and pulled it up and out of the water. Saint Dane didn’t lend a hand, in case you were wondering. He stood in the center of the circle of torches, watching. Not moving. He wasn’t going to come to us. We had to go to him. Fine. Whatever.

  “Be cool,” I whispered to Loor.

  The two of us walked up the beach and stood on the outside of the circle of torches, only a few yards away from the demon Traveler. Nobody said anything for the longest time. Maybe it was because nobody wanted to make the first move. I’ve been told that’s not a good idea.

  “I’m happy to see you are feeling better, Pendragon,” Saint Dane finally said.

  “Really?” I asked, heaping as much sarcasm into that one word as I could. “Then why did you beat me up in the first place?”

  Saint Dane chuckled. I amused him. Swell.

  “And now you’re masquerading as a Ghee warrior,” he said with a smirk. “What is it you say on your territory? Trick or treat? I’m afraid I have no candy for you, little boy.”

  He was trying to rile me. I didn’t take the bait.

  “Speaking of masquerades, you surprised me,” I said. “Bokka knew your name. Your real name. That’s not like you. Usually you’re such a coward you have to hide behind other identities.”

  Saint Dane flashed his fiery white eyes at me and smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile. The game was on.

  “Ahh, yes. Bokka. The brave Tiggen guard,” Saint Dane said. “I believe he was a friend of yours, Loor? Such a shame he turned out to be a traitor to his people. I do hope his death was painful.”

  Loor moved before I could react. She leaped at Saint Dane while pulling her weapon from its harness. Saint Dane didn’t budge. He didn’t have to. The instant Loor entered the ring of light, three Tiggen guards leaped from the shadows and tackled her. Two more Tiggen guards jumped me, holding my arms. Another stepped into the ring holding his crossbow full of steel arrows, ready to shoot. I recognized him. It was Bokka’s killer.

  Saint Dane said, “My friend here is such a fine marksman. I believe it only took one arrow to serve justice to Bokka. Though he fired several more, just to be sure.”

  Loor squirmed in anger, trying to get up, but the guards held her facedown in the sand. Saint Dane strolled over and leaned down to her.

  “You want to kill me, don’t you? “ he said calmly. “And here I thought you and your friends were so righteous. You are just as capable of evil as anyone. Perhaps more so. Yet you believe your brand of evil is justified, so long as it serves your own misguided purposes.”

  Loor struggled to pull free. “Why did he have to die?” she growled through clenched teeth. “He is not part of this.”

  “That’s not true, my dear,” Saint Dane said. “Bokka made himself a very big part of this. Once the Tiggen guards discovered he was going to present a Ghee with a map that showed the route to Kidik, his fate was sealed.” He walked to the Tiggen assassin with the crossbow and put a hand on his shoulder. “I can’t say I was surprised, though. I knew Bokka would run to you. That’s why I gave him the map.”

  Loor screamed and struggled, but the guards held her firm. I moved to go to her, but the Tiggen guards held me tight as well. I shot one guard a look straight in the eye and said firmly, “Let…me…go.” The guard stared back, and a strange thing happened. He let go. I looked to the other guard, and yanked my arm away from him. The two guards stood there, looking at me like dummies.

  “Nicely done, Pendragon!” Saint Dane said. “You are learning!”

  I knelt down next to Loor and touched her back gently to try and calm her. I put my face down in the sand right next to hers and whispered, “Please do this my way.”

  Loor’s eyes burned with anger and hatred. We locked gazes. Slowly I saw her regain control. She gave me a slight nod. I touched her hair, then stood up and looked at Saint Dane. “Let her go,” I demanded calmly.

  “Is your guard dog under control?” he asked.

  “Let her go,” I said again, just as calmly.

  The Tiggen guards looked at Saint Dane. He gave them a nod, and they quickly backed away from Loor as if they were releasing a wild animal. They were ready to pounce back on her at the slightest sign of trouble. The assassin with the crossbow kept his weapon aimed at her. Loor didn’t jump up right away. I think she was still trying to get her wits back. I leaned over and helped her to her feet. When we were face-to-face, I gave her a reassuring smile and a wink. She nodded. She was back with me.

  I turned to Saint Dane and said, “Okay, so you gave Bokka the map to lure us to…wherever the heck this is. Nice job. Real clever. Why?”

  Saint Dane chuckled and said, “To save your lives, of course.”

  I hadn’t expected that. I didn’t know what to say. Saint Dane reached into his pocket and pulled out a soft, black cap with no brim. He put it on his bald head to hide the angry red scars and said, “My time with the Rokador has been so refreshing. There has been no pretense, no trickery. I’ve presented myself to them as I am, and helped them forge their own future. It’s been such a perfect demonstration.”

  “Demonstration of what?” I asked.

  “Of my ability to control Halla, of course,” he said as if I were an idiot for not knowing that.

  “What’s going to happen, Saint Dane?” I asked, trying not to sound as desperate as I felt.

  “Pendragon, my boy,” Saint Dane said. “Once the excitement starts, those fortunate enough to be on this underground island will be the only survivors. I’ve spared you because I wouldn’t want you to miss seeing Zadaa’s future. And why not? You
helped create it.” He turned to the Tiggen guards and said, “Please escort our guests to chambers.” With that he smiled at me, turned, and walked away.

  “What’s going to happen?” I yelled at his back.

  “Patience,” he called. “Your answer will come soon enough.” He stopped and turned back to say, “Oh yes, I nearly forgot. If you feel any guilt about spending so much time with Loor, don’t. The lovely Courtney Chetwynde has found a new beau.”

  He gave a smug little smile and continued walking. His comment came from so far out of left field, I didn’t know how to react. He had just jerked my head away from Zadaa, and thrown me back to Second Earth.

  “How do you know that?” I shouted at him.

  “Why, Pendragon!” Saint Dane teased. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

  “Leave Courtney alone!” I screamed. I took a step to follow him, but Loor put her hand on my shoulder, stopping me. It was her turn to be the calm one.

  Saint Dane motioned to the assassin with the crossbow and walked toward a group of huge boulders that lined the beach. The Tiggen killer followed. Saint Dane didn’t turn into an animal or a bird or anything else. He simply walked away like a regular person. This may be weird to say, but it creeped me out. Seeing Saint Dane acting human was unsettling. I think maybe it was because it was easier to think of him as some impossible, supernatural being. It was harder to accept that someone who was capable of such evil, could be a normal person. It made me shudder.

  “Be calm, Pendragon,” Loor said softly.

  “He’s been to Second Earth,” I said, my panic rising.

  “Maybe,” Loor said. “Or maybe he is trying to upset you.”

  “He’s doing a good job,” I shot back.

  Before we could make another move, the Tiggen guards grabbed us, took our weapons, and pulled us along the beach in the direction that Saint Dane had gone. Loor gave me a look as if to say, “Should we take these guys out?” She wanted to start kicking some Tiggen butt in the worst way. I was beginning to think the same way. It took all I had to keep my emotions checked. Saint Dane was trying to get us to lose control. We couldn’t let him.