“Ow!” I shouted. “What was that for?”
“My reflexes are far better than his,” Saangi said to Loor. “He can learn from me.”
I rubbed the back of my stinging legs, then quickly yanked the weapon out of her hands before she could react.
“Gimme that,” I scolded. “Sheesh.”
Loor gently took the weapon from me. I could see she was smiling slightly.
“You think this is funny?” I asked. “This is tough enough without getting smacked by the good guys. That hurt!”
Loor said, “If you do not wish to be hit, you do not wish to train. Do you wish to train?”
Ouch. Loaded question. To be honest, the idea of getting battered around while training didn’t appeal to me. I had finally recovered from most of my injuries. My strength was still low and I was stiff, but most of the injury pain was gone.
The idea of voluntarily getting physically punished didn’t exactly appeal to me. I had gotten a lifetime worth of pain from Saint Dane. But you didn’t play football without getting knocked around in practice, or box without sparring and taking some punches. If I wanted to learn how to fight, part of that was getting used to being hit. I stopped rubbing my leg.
“I can handle it,” I said to Loor defiantly. I looked to Saangi. She had a smug look on her face.
“You will play a part in this, Saangi,” Loor said to her squire while giving her back the weapon. “Please be patient.”
Saangi took the stave and jammed it into its harness. She stood there with her arms folded, looking all sorts of pouty. Note to self: Watch out for the brat.
That’s when the flume came to life.
I heard it before seeing anything. The rock walls shifted every so slightly, groaning like an old man’s joints as he worked out stiff kinks. Kind of like how I felt lately. I looked into the tunnel to see a pinpoint of light far in the distance. Someone was headed toward us. The light quickly grew larger as it came closer. I heard the faint jumble of sweet musical notes that always announced a voyage through the flume. A moment later the rocky walls of the round tunnel melted into crystal. Before the incoming light grew so bright that I had to shield my eyes, I could see the star field beyond the clear walls. Though traveling through the flumes had become a common thing, I still had no clue as to how they worked, or who created them. I trusted that one day I would find out, but I usually tried not to think about it too much. There was usually too much going on to stress over the grand cosmic issues I had no control over.
Loor, Saangi, and I stood together, shielding our eyes from the brilliant light show. The music grew loud. The passenger had arrived. A second later the light disappeared, the crystal walls returned to solid rock, and the flume was once again quiet.
Standing before us was a tall, dangerous-looking guy with a sword on his hip. He was wearing heavy leather armor that was much beefier than Loor’s. No skin showed on this guy because the territory he had come from wasn’t burning hot like Zadaa. I knew, because I had been there, For him to have gotten to the gate, he had to climb a craggy mountain and traverse a vast snowfield to find the hidden cave that held the flume. He was around my age, but much taller than me. He looked every bit like the professional knight that he was.
He also happened to be the Traveler from Denduron.
“Hello, Alder,” I said. “Welcome to Zadaa.”
“The flume was not at all what I expected,” Alder said, sounding a bit shaken. He took a step forward, tripped, and stumbled. Luckily we caught him before he fell at our feet.
“Sorry,” Alder said, embarrassed. “I am still shaky from the journey.”
“This is the fierce knight you want to help train Pendragon?” Saangi asked with dismay. “He is an oaf.”
“He is a Traveler,” Loor said sharply. “And you will treat him with respect.”
“She is correct, I am an oaf,” Alder said sheepishly. “But I am an oaf who can fight.” He looked at me and broke out in a warm grin. “Hello, Pendragon. You have changed.”
We hugged. It was like getting a bear hug from a, well, from a bear. He was a strong guy. His hair was longish and brown. He wasn’t a handsome guy, his features were too…big. Big nose, big mouth. Wide-spaced eyes. No, he wasn’t a looker. What you saw when you looked into Alder’s eyes was sincerity. And honesty. There wasn’t a devious bone in his body. What he said, he meant. He was actually more like a big kid than a trained Bedoowan knight. I would trust this guy with my life. Come to think of it, Ihadtrusted this guy with my life. I was about to do it again.
“We’ve both grown up a little,” I said.
Alder let go of me and held his arms out for Loor, ready to give her a hug. “Hello, Loor!”
Loor stood stock-still with her arms at her sides. She wasn’t the huggy type.
“I am happy to see you, Alder,” she said with no emotion.
Alder stood there with his arms out, hugless, looking dumb. “Ummm, right,” he said, dropping his arms. “And who is this?” he asked, looking at Saangi.
“My name is Saangi. I am Loor’s acolyte. I wrote the note to your acolyte to request that you come here.”
“Who is your acolyte?” I asked Alder.
“A Milago,” Alder answered. “Her husband was killed by Saint Dane during a Transfer ceremony.”
I knew exactly who Alder was talking about. On Denduron the Milago farmers were forced to slave in the mines, digging up a precious, blue mineral called glaze for the ruling class. The Bedoowan. When Saint Dane went to Denduron, he started a brutal practice of choosing a Milago and forcing the miners to dig up his weight in glaze. The Transfer ceremony was where they weighed the poor miner against that day’s haul. If they didn’t dig up enough, the miner would be killed. I saw a Transfer ceremony where they didn’t make quota. The miner was killed. His wife had to watch. I am happy to say that Loor and Alder and I put the mines out of business. We had beaten Saint Dane on Denduron. We were now together again, ready to stop him on Zadaa.
“I hear you have been busy, Pendragon,” Alder said. “It seems as if our adventure on Denduron was only the beginning.”
“Pretty much,” I answered. “I want to hear about what’s happening on your territory. I could use some good news.”
“You will be pleased,” Alder assured me. “The Bedoowan are working with the Milago to rebuild their village that was destroyed when the tak mine exploded.”
“Where do the Bedoowan live now that their castle is destroyed?” Loor asked.
Alder laughed and said, “They live in the Milago village! You would not recognize the place, it has grown so!”
“So it’s all one big happy family?” I asked.
“It is not perfect,” Alder answered. “But it is peaceful. And the Milago are no longer in the mines. The future is bright.”
Hearing all this couldn’t have made me happier. Denduron had reached its turning point, and we pushed it the right way. But it also made me a little sad, because it reminded me of Uncle Press. I can still picture him standing up on the back of that crude, medieval sled, flying over the snow, heaving spears at the charging quig-bears.
I said, “I want to hear about Rellin, and Queen Kagan and-“
Alder suddenly took a step backward and reached for his leg. With one quick move he grabbed a vicious-looking knife that was strapped to his calf and threw it between Loor and me. We both ducked out of the way in surprise. I spun around to see what he was throwing at and saw something that made my legs go weak.
As I’ve described before, the huge underground cavern that held the flume was dug from the same light brown sandstone that all of the buildings of Xhaxhu were made from. The way in and out was by climbing up using small holes that were dug into one craggy wall. These handholds led up through a dark cleft in the rock that was barely wide enough for one person to squeeze through. It was a treacherous climb that ended at a trapdoor leading to a storage room used by the Rokador. Alder had thrown his knife toward the wall with the handholds.
His throw was dead solid perfect. Now skewered into the soft sandstone was a snake. A big snake. It must have dropped down, head first, from the cleft in the rock that led to the trapdoor. Alder’s knife had drilled through its head. I turned in time to see the rest of its body falling down from above. Dead. It must have been six feet long. Its head stayed in place, pegged to the soft sandstone by Alder’s knife.
“Wha-?” Saangi said in stunned awe. She looked to Alder with new respect. “I apologize for doubting you, sir.”
Alder shrugged modestly. “I may be a clumsy oaf, but I am also a knight.”
I don’t like snakes. There’s nothing good about snakes. They’re quiet, they’re sneaky, and they can kill you. Not a whole lot to like there. But this snake was especially nasty. I had run into one on a previous visit to Zadaa.
“Quigs,” I said.
“Quigs?” Alder echoed.
“That’s what they are on Zadaa,” I answered. “On Denduron they’re bears. Second Earth, dogs. On Cloral they’re sharks. Here they’re snakes. Big, nasty snakes.”
“Why would they appear now?” Saangi asked, stunned. Gone was the cocky young warrior. She suddenly seemed like a nervous little girl.
“Quigs only show up when Saint Dane doesn’t want us using the flumes,” I said. “You know what that tells me?”
“What?” Alder asked.
“It means we’re doing the right thing,” I answered. “Saint Dane is beginning to feel the heat. It’s time to get started.”
JOURNAL #21
(CONTINUED)
ZADAA
We didn’t run into any more quig-snakes on the way up and out of the flume cavern, I’m happy to report. Alder led the way, but without his sword or knife. He had to abandon his Denduron armor and weapons at the flume. Mixing items between territories wasn’t allowed. But I guess I don’t have to point that out anymore. Saangi fixed him up with a white Rokador tunic since he looked a heck of a lot more like a Rokador than a dark-skinned Batu. She also gave him a silver-rod weapon like the Tiggen guards had carried at the farm above. It was about three feet long with a leather handle on one end that had a loop to go around your wrist.
“What do I do with this?” Alder asked. “It has no blade.”
“It is an effective weapon,” Loor assured him. “You will see.”
We climbed up the footholds, through the trapdoor and stood together in the rock-walled room that the Rokador used to store machine parts. Loor slammed the trapdoor shut that bore the star symbol marking it as a gate to the flume. She covered it with sand, hiding it completely.
“Where to now?” I asked Loor.
“To a place where we will not be disturbed by Batu or Rokador,” she answered.
We left the room, following Loor through the twisting tunnel that I had walked through several times before on visits to Zadaa. Shortly we left the smaller tunnel to enter the huge cavern that once held an underground river. When Spader and I were first here, there was a four-story waterfall on one side of the immense cavern that fed a deep, raging river. Now there was only a dribble of water that fell from a rocky mouth into a pathetic trickle of a stream at the bottom of the mostly dry riverbed.
“What happened here?” Alder asked.
“There is a lot to tell,” Loor answered. “Later.”
Alder accepted that. He was an easy guy.
Loor led us to the opening that was once hidden behind the waterfall, but was now in plain sight. We climbed a few stone stairs, stepped through the portal, and entered a room that held the water-control device I have described to you before. To remind you guys, this thing looked like one of those giant pipe-organs that you see in church. But these pipes ran horizontally, disappearing into the rock wall on either side of the room. There was a platform in front of it that held an amazing array of switches and valves. When I first came here, there was a Rokador engineer on that platform, feverishly working the controls like an expert. I had no idea what the device did, other than knowing it had something to do with controlling the flow of water from the rivers. The guy had maps and diagrams that he referred to while he quickly made adjustments and toggled switches.
Now the platform was empty. A thin layer of sand and dust covered the control board.
“This is one of the many switching stations that the Rokador engineers use to control the rivers of Zadaa,” Loor explained.
“I guess there isn’t much to do here anymore,” I said sadly.
I heard a booming voice behind me say: “At least for now.”
We all turned quickly to see Bokka, the Tiggen guard striding toward us. He was followed by Teek and the other two goons from the farm. At least I assumed they were the same two guys. They didn’t drop their hoods last time so I suppose they could be different characters. But it was definitely Bokka. Handsome, confidant Bokka. He didn’t wear his goggles down here, so this time I got to see his eyes. They were a unique shade of light green. I had never seen eyes like his before. A quick glance at Teek and the other Tiggen guards revealed that they all had light green eyes. I figured it had something to do with living underground.
Bokka scanned us all in a way that told me he was sizing us up in case there was trouble. His eyes fell on Alder. “And who is this new guest who dresses like a Rokador and carries our weapon?” Bokka asked.
Loor took the lead, saying: “He is from Pendragon’s tribe. He, too, has come to help.”
“The Yankees tribe?” Bokka asked.
At first I didn’t know what the heck he was talking about. I guarantee Alder didn’t have a clue either. But he knew enough not to say anything.
“Right,” I said, suddenly remembering. “The Yankees tribe. Scourge of the American League.”
Nobody had any idea what I was talking about, which was kind of fun.
“Welcome, Alder,” Bokka said warmly. “We’re honored to have you.”
Bokka’s friends didn’t look all too pleased. They stood there, staring at us like we were the enemy. What a bunch of clones.
“What’s with your buddies?” I asked. “Don’t they trust us?”
Bokka glanced back to his pals. “Forgive them,” he said. “They are Tiggen guards. It is their job to be suspicious of outsiders.”
“Then why aren’tyoususpicious of us?” I asked.
“Because Loor tells me I shouldn’t be,” Bokka said. He looked at Loor and smiled. Loor smiled back and looked down like some freakin’ girly-girl. This guy was a little bit too charming for me.
“I understand you had an accident,” Teek said to me.
Accident? I could use a lot of words to describe what had happened to me. “Accident” wasn’t one of them.
“Yes,” I said. “I ran into the club of a Ghee warrior a couple hundred times. But you know, accidents happen.”
“I’m sorry to hear you went through so much pain, Pendragon,” Bokka said. “But I’m happy to see you’ve recovered.” He sounded like he meant it too. I wanted to not like this guy, but couldn’t come up with a good enough reason, other than the fact he had a longtime relationship with Loor and she acted like a girl with a crush whenever she was around him. But that wasn’t enough reason not to like him. At least that’s what my brain told me. My heart was pushing me the other way.
“This switching station has been closed for quite some time,” Loor said.
“Without water it will not reopen,” Bokka said somberly. “But I have more disturbing news.”
“It gets worse?” I asked.
“There has been a general retreat,” Bokka explained. “The Tiggen guards have been ordered back from outlying regions of the underground.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“It means we are preparing for war,” Teek said.
Bokka added, “The fear is that if we are scattered when the Batu attack, we will be slaughtered. Right now all Rokador are gathering in the city of Kidik in anticipation of an attack. We are the last of the Tiggen guard who are sprea
ding the word and rounding up stragglers. The future looks grim.”
Nobody said anything for a while. The idea of being on the verge of a war tends to stop conversation.
I finally said, “So what you’re saying is that unless there’s a huge rainstorm that fills the rivers, it’s war.”
“The answer to that lies with the Batu,” Bokka answered. “The Rokador are simply preparing to defend themselves. We are victims of the drought as well. We have little water and the Batu no longer bring us crops. I understand they barely have enough to feed themselves.”
“It is true,” Loor said.
“Then the future does indeed look grim,” Bokka said.
“What do your leaders say?” I asked. “Can’t they bring water from someplace else? I mean, all of Zadaa can’t be dry.”
“We ask the same thing,” Bokka answered. “The elite tell us they have done everything they can. They can’t reach out to all of Zadaa. We are at the mercy of the weather, just as the Batu are…only we are being blamed for the problem.”
He looked at me and asked, “I know you are here to help, Pendragon. I’m not sure how you can do that, unless you have a way to make it rain. Do you?”
The guy wasn’t being sarcastic. He really hoped I could doit.
“Afraid not,” I said. “The Yankees are good, but notthatgood.”
Bokka nodded in acceptance.
“Can you bring us now?” Loor asked. “Yes, come,” Bokka said.
Bokka turned on his heel and walked off quickly, followed by Teek and the other two goons. Loor followed them, and the rest of us went with her.
“Where are we going?” I asked Loor.
“To a safe place away from prying eyes,” she answered.
Bokka and his buddies led us through a series of tunnels, each of which looked exactly like the last. They were passageways that were dug right out of the sandstone. Some were barely wide enough for Alder’s shoulders; others were as wide as a school corridor with various pieces of equipment and pipes running through them. We passed several wooden doors, all closed. It was amazing to think that these people had created an entire world underground. It wasn’t like the fabulous underground of Third Earth. No way. This was all very crude. But there was light. Every few yards I saw small domes imbedded in the wall that gave off a soft, yellow glow. I didn’t think they had electricity, so I figured it had to be some kind of phosphorous. The result wasn’t exactly bright, but I had no trouble seeing where I was going.
The Rivers of Zadaa tpa-6 Page 9
