Raven Rise tpa-9

by D. J. MacHale

  “I do not believe I have a choice.”

  “We need him closer.”

  “Any closer and I will feel its breath.”

  The horse bucked, hit my shoulder, and knocked me back. I stumbled, but didn’t fall. There was no time for that. I quickly leaped back at the horse, grabbing for the leather bag that was attached to the saddle. The bag with the tak brick. The horse was between me and the advancing quig.

  “I’m only going to get one shot, maybe two,” I said. “When I say so, rear up.”

  “If I can.”

  “You have to,” I said firmly.

  I pulled out the small brick of tak and tore it in two. Putting one half under my arm, I formed the other half like a snowball. I quickly shifted hands and formed the other tak ball.

  The quig roared and stood up on its hind legs. It was getting ready for the kill.

  “Pendragon?” Alder called again nervously. “Not yet,” I cautioned.

  The quig’s eyes flashed yellow. Hunger was all that mattered to him. As soon as its front paws landed back on the snow, it charged. It had decided that we posed no threat. He was wrong.

  “Now!” I shouted.

  Alder pulled back on the reins with a grunt. The horse whinnied and reared up, lifting its front hooves into the sky, giving me a clear shot. The quig was maybe fifteen yards away and closing fast. I heaved the tak ball sidearm, for fear I might hit the horse. The ball flew square at the quig’s head…and exploded on contact.

  I was blown off my feet. It was like being hit with a wall of hot bricks. I landed hard on the snow. The horse landed right next to me. The only thought I had was to protect the second tak ball. If that was slammed too hard, there would be a second explosion. Closer than the first. Too close. I cradled it next to my stomach as if it were a precious egg. Or a high explosive. I didn’t know where Alder was. I couldn’t hear anything except the ringing in my ears from the explosion. It started to rain, only the rain was traveling sideways. And it was too cold to rain. I soon realized the truth. I was being pelted by wet bits of quig. Chunks of flesh and fur and blood flew everywhere. A hunk of bone flew past. A tooth skidded across the snow. If I hadn’t been so dazed, I probably would have retched. Through the smoke and snow and flying gore, I saw Alder lying a few yards from me. I scrambled over quickly and rolled him onto his back.

  His eyes were open, but unfocused.

  “Hey!” I shouted, shaking his head.

  Alder blinked, coughed, and met my gaze.

  “I believe the correct word is…’wow,’” he said with wide eyes.

  I had to laugh. Nothing bothered this guy.

  We weren’t out of danger. There were other quigs lurking around. I looked back to where I had hit the lead quig and saw exactly what I’d hoped to see. There was nothing left of the quig but a huge chunk of blood and bone. I made out a couple of furry masses that were probably paws. The rest was scattered across the snow. The red snow. More important, the other quigs took the bait. Or the lunch. They didn’t care about us anymore. There were good eats to be had. They climbed over one another to get a piece of their exploded pal. One would grab on to a piece of flesh and pull away, only to have another quig bite the same piece and wrestle for the prize. Yeah, disgusting. I hate quigs.

  The horse was long gone. The trail of hoof prints in the snow showed that he had decided not to make the rest of the trip with us and had run for home. Iguess he’d had his fill of being a Traveler.

  “We have to go the rest of the way on foot,” I said. “Can you walk?”

  Alder’s answer was to stagger to his feet. The guy stood up tall over me. He had to be at least six-four. He was a heck of a sight, standing there in his blood-spattered leathers.

  “I am looking forward to being somewhere else.”

  The two of us staggered away from the carnage, headed for the top of the mountain and the flume. It took another half hour of trudging through the snow until we saw the rocky cave. I’m happy to say that there were no quig spines poking out from the snow. They were off having a bite to eat. We were nearly at the cave when Alder put his hand out to stop me.

  “Look,” he said.

  Bright light flared from inside the cave. We both knew that meant only one thing. We sprinted the last few yards and ran inside in time to see the light disappearing into the depths of the flume, along with the musical notes. Between us and the tunnel was the white skeleton of a quig. Two of the dado weapons I had used to kill it were still jutting out from the bones, right where I’d left them. The quig looked as if he had been picked clean by his pals. Gross. But the quig skeleton isn’t what held our attention. Alder and I stood staring at something beyond. Something in the flume.

  On the rocky bottom, just inside the mouth, was a body. We stood stock still, waiting for the guy to move. He didn’t.

  “He may be dead,” Alder said.

  The body groaned. He wasn’t dead. But he looked hurt. We ran for him. I got there first and rolled the guy over.

  “Patrick!” I shouted.

  “Who?”

  “The Traveler from Third Earth.”

  My hand was under his back. I felt something I didn’t like and quickly pulled my hand back to see it was covered with blood. Fresh blood. Patrick’s blood. Alder and I exchanged looks. We knew what to do. We both put our hands on the Traveler. I slid my bloody hand under his back, to where I thought the wound was, and held my other hand over his heart. Alder rested both his hands on Patrick’s chest. I didn’t know the exact procedure, other than to concentrate on willing Patrick to heal. Alder’s eyes were closed. I closed mine as well. I thought of Patrick the way he was on Third Earth. Smart, quick, and maybe a little neurotic. I pictured his face and the way he moved. I tried to imagine his voice.

  My hands felt warm. Both of them. It wasn’t painful or anything. It was a strange feeling, but also kind of comforting. We were Travelers. All three of us. We were brothers. We were part of something bigger that we had yet to uncover. Of all the things that were still unknown, still a mystery, still maddeningly elusive, there was one thing that I had total confidence in.

  We could save one another.

  The warm feeling became a tingle that spread up my arms and through my body. I opened my eyes and stole a look at Alder to see a small smile on his face. He was feeling the same thing. The event lasted only a few seconds. I looked down at our Traveler friend.

  “Patrick?” I said softly. “You there?”

  Patrick’s eyelids fluttered. He gasped, as if refilling his lungs with air. Slowly his eyes opened. He glanced around in confusion until he focused on me.

  “Pendragon?” he croaked.

  “Do you know where you are?” I asked.

  “Denduron?”

  I nodded. “Why did you come here, Patrick? What happened?”

  “I… I was shot,” he gasped. He hadn’t fully focused. He was still trying to get his bearings.

  “By who? Who shot you?”

  “People who worked for the Traveler,” was his strange answer.

  I looked to Alder. Alder scowled.

  “What Traveler?” I asked quickly.

  Patrick grasped my hand and whispered, “The new Traveler from Second Earth.”

  I was rocked back on my heels. Nothing could have prepared me for that. In three seconds my mind raced to a million possibilities and a million dead ends.

  “Pendragon?” Alder said calmly.

  I looked to him, hoping he had an answer. He did. He may not have known what was happening, or what the news from Patrick meant, but he knew exactly what had to be done.

  “I believe we are no longer going to Third Earth,” he declared.

  “No, we’re not,” I said, getting my wits back. “I’m going home.”

  END OF JOURNAL#35

  SECOND EARTH

  Mark and Courtney sat stone-faced inthe back of the same limousine that originally took them into New York City. They didn’t bother to try and get out. It was parked an
d surrounded by Naymeer’s red-shirt guards. Not that it mattered. The events of the past few minutes had shocked them into submission.

  There was a flurry of activity outside the car. One of the guards opened the door next to Mark. Mark didn’t react. It was like he didn’t care anymore. They were soon joined by another passenger. The door was slammed shut, and an instant later they were rolling.

  Sitting across from them was Alexander Naymeer. He looked every bit as calm and together as Mark and Courtney looked worn. Not a single one of his silver-gray hairs was out of place. In spite of all that had just happened, he was as relaxed as if going on a drive through the park.

  “Finally,” he said with his arms spread out in a warm welcome. “We meet.”

  Mark and Courtney stared at him blankly.

  “Mark Dimond and Courtney Chetwynde,” Naymeer continued.

  “I’ve heard so much about you, I feel as if I know you. Would you like something to drink?”

  He reached for an expensive-looking crystal decanter full of water. Mark and Courtney didn’t respond. Naymeer replaced it and chuckled like an amused grandparent.

  “If we don’t converse, this will be a very long ride,” he said playfully.

  “You killed him,” Courtney said flatly. “Patrick is dead.”

  Naymeer frowned. “A horrible mistake. It should never have happened. Heat of the moment and all. My guardians used poor judgment. I am absolutely sick over it.”

  Mark added, “You destroyed my house. Was that in the heat of the moment too?”

  Naymeer raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Please, don’t judge too quickly. There are larger issues involved.”

  “Larger than murder?” Courtney snapped.

  Naymeer cocked an eyebrow and answered, “Yes, actually.”

  Courtney sat forward in the seat. “Who the hell are you!” she shouted.

  Mark put out a hand to stop her from moving any closer to Naymeer.

  “You already know that answer,” Naymeer said without flinching. “I am the Traveler from Second Earth.”

  If Mark hadn’t held Courtney tighter, she would have leaped at Naymeer’s throat.

  “Bobby Pendragon is the Traveler from Second Earth,” she hissed.

  “He was,” Naymeer said with sympathy. “But he has abdicated the position, so the honor is now mine.”

  “How can you say that?” Mark asked, trying to control his emotions. “Who told you?”

  Naymeer looked between the two and shook his head. “After all that has happened, you truly do not understand, do you?”

  “A-Are you Saint Dane?” Mark asked tentatively.

  Naymeer laughed. “Hardly. I am but a mere Traveler. Though I am at his disposal.”

  Mark and Courtney sat stunned. Naymeer was slick. His British accent made him seem all the more superior. He was worshipped by millions. He consulted with world leaders. He was a force to be reckoned with.

  All Mark and Courtney saw was a murderer who had aligned himself with Saint Dane.

  “How do you know so much about Halla?” Courtney asked. “I’ve never heard of you, and I know all about the Travelers.”

  “You may know of the Travelers, but I’m beginning to realize you don’t know much about Halla. You are aware of Ravinia, aren’t you?”

  “It’s your creepy cult,” Courtney said. “So what?”

  Naymeer held up his hand and looked at his ring, admiring it. “What do you know of this?” he asked.

  “I know it’s mine,” Mark grumbled.

  Naymeer ignored the comment and continued. “Do you question how it works? How the flume performs as it does? What powers it all?”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Courtney said sarcastically. “Try, like, every minute of every day.”

  Naymeer removed the ring and held it up to the light coming in through the car’s window. “It’s not a very attractive stone. Until it comes to life, that is. Of course you understand that the stone in this ring is the same material that makes up the flume.”

  Courtney and Mark exchanged looks. They didn’t.

  “Scientists have debated its existence for some time now. It’s quite extraordinary actually. From this simple material, a universe was born.”

  Mark’s eyes widened. “No way,” he gasped.

  “No way what?” Courtney asked, shooting a surprised look to Mark. “You know what this guy’s talking about?”

  D. J. MacHale

  Raven Rise

  Mark stared right at Naymeer and asked, “You’re saying the rings and the flume are made up of the dark matter?”

  “The who?” Courtney asked, totally confused.

  “It’s been called many things,” Naymeer explained. “But you are correct. It is most commonly referred to as dark matter. Whatever the name, its nature is undeniable. This amazing material provided the foundation of Halla. Planets, stars, moons, civilizations, cultures, everything we know of grew from this most basic substance. It is the oldest material in existence. It is also the most powerful.”

  “How do you know that?” Mark asked. “No one’s proved its existence.”

  “No one on Second Earth,” he answered slyly. “Surely you realize there is more to existence than this one territory.”

  Mark and Courtney didn’t reply. They knew about the other territories. The other worlds. They knew there had to be greater powers at work on their lives. The flumes were proof of that. Now, for the first time, it seemed they were with someone who had the answers.

  “So, who told you about it?” Courtney muttered.

  Naymeer smiled. “A raven.”

  Mark and Courtney stared at him blankly.

  Naymeer returned the ring to his finger. “Many years ago I was given a gift. This ring. It was brought to me by a raven.”

  “I know how you got it,” Mark spat. “From me. I was blackmailed into giving it up.”

  “Were you?” Naymeer responded. “If it was in your possession, why did you not explore its wonders?”

  Mark didn’t have an answer.

  “Perhaps it was in the wrong hands,” Naymeer concluded.

  “What kind of wonders?” Courtney asked.

  Naymeer closed his eyes, as if remembering a time long past. “I quickly realized that the gift was more than a simple trinket. The power contained in this stone saved my life and opened the door to Halla. Whenever I held the ring, I saw visions of the fantastic. The impossible. I saw other worlds full of unique animals and alien civilizations. There were ancient tribes and modern spectacles. Initially I was frightened, but I soon learned they weren’t fantasies, or spirits sent to haunt me. I was getting a glimpse into the vast reality of Halla.”

  “You traveled to other territories?” Mark asked.

  “No!” was the quick answer. “I have never left Second Earth. There is no need. The ring provided me with all the answers. I grew up alone, you know. In a foundling hospital. The ring and its truths became my whole life.”

  “I don’t buy this,” Courtney said. “No way a kid could figure all this out on his own.”

  “You are correct. I was adopted by a young woman, who raised me. Together we explored the wonders of Halla. She showed me all that was good, and so much that was wrong. Together we formed the plan to ensure that the good would triumph.”

  “Nevva Winter,” Mark gasped.

  “Yes, sweet Nevva. I cannot say she became a mother to me. She was more of a mentor. But she is as much responsible for all that has happened as I.”

  “So what happened?” Courtney asked impatiently. “What is the point of Ravinia? What are you promising these people?”

  Naymeer leaned forward. His eyes sparkled with an intensity that made Mark and Courtney press back into their seats.

  “I’m giving them hope for the future,” he answered. “I started slowly, appealing to children and their parents. The war drove them to me. London was in turmoil for many years. People knew there had to be a better way. They needed to k
now there was something bigger, something more important, in order to make sense of their misery. To organize the chaos. I showed it to them. With this ring I treated them to glimpses of other worlds. Other civilizations. I introduced grand possibilities that reached past their limited lives. I convinced them to look beyond their borders and strive to become citizens, not of their towns or their countries, but of Halla!”

  “That’s it?” Courtney scoffed. “You showed them some floating pictures and they lined up to follow you? You can get that in the movies.”

  “Except motion pictures aren’t real,” Naymeer countered. Courtney backed down.

  Naymeer continued, “I showed them how their lives would have no limits, no restrictions, as long as they believed in me and my vision of a greater future. Not everyone has the prescience. I had to appeal to the proper type of person.”

  Mark said, “The elite. The strong. The enlightened.”

  Naymeer’s eyes widened with pride. “I’m flattered. You listened to my speech.”

  “We didn’t have a choice,” Courtney growled.

  “I had a difficult upbringing,” Naymeer continued. “It became clear early on, that the only way to survive was to excel. To be better. To rise above the rabble. Every world of Halla is faced with the same challenge: From individuals to cities, tribes to armies, governments to families-societies throughout time have crumbled due to their tolerance for weakness. Instead of encouraging the strong, they waste resources on those who don’t contribute. Halla can be so much better than that. Imagine if our prime goal were to transcend mediocrity? Think of the possibilities! Instead of being held back by the weight of failure, we should reward those who strive for excellence. The doctors. The scientists. Teachers. Generals. Mathematicians. Athletes. Those who excel in finance.

  The visionaries. The leaders. Excellence will be rewarded. Failure and apathy will not be tolerated. Once that philosophy is universally accepted, Halla will soar to greater heights than could ever be imagined. Let me quote one of your most popular presidents: ‘Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country’ That is the philosophy of Ravinia. That is what we will achieve throughout Halla.”