“Don’t stop,” Kasha called back.
We were either going to make it, or crash.
JOURNAL #18
(CONTINUED)
EELONG
Theklee sentries scrambled to swing the giant gates closed. I didn’t think we were going to make it. We were too far away. But surprise was on our side. The klee sentries took a look over their shoulders to see us charging right for them, and stopped pushing. I didn’t know if it was because they were surprised to see us galloping pedalto the metal and about to splatagainst the closed gate, or because they were shocked to see that one of the suicidal riders was a gar. Didn’t matter. All that counted was that a few of them were startled enough to stop pushing the gate. Those few seconds were exactly what we needed. By the time they got their wits back and continued pushing, we blasted through the gate at full throttle, barely squeaking out of Leeandra.
Once outside the city, we didn’t slow down. I think Kasha wanted to get as much distance between us and Leeandra as possible in case we were chased. We charged along the wide jungle path as if it were an open field. I had to duck down low like a jockey, for fear of getting lashed by a stray branch. Kasha made a quick turn and galloped onto a connecting trail. It was a good thing I had my eye on her or I would have shot right past the turn. As it was, I barely made it. We galloped on, not slowing down a fraction, flashing past branches that bit at my arms.
Thankfully, we broke out of the trail into a wide, grassy meadow. Going from a closed, dark trail to such a wide-open space took my breath away. The sunbelt was just coming up over the horizon, burning off the morning dew that glistened on miles of dark green grass. Kasha didn’t stop pushing. There was no trail, so we fanned out, galloped up a rise and down the other side. Spread out before us was an immense, green pasture. We didn’t stop to admire the view. Kasha pushed her zenzen even faster. Its hooves dug up the soft grass, sending clumps of dirt and sod into the air that peppered Yorn and me.
Finally Yorn galloped up beside her and yelled, “We’re safe, Kasha! Slow down!”
Kasha looked back, and I immediately realized that her mad gamble wasn’t just about escaping from Leeandra. I saw it in her eyes. Kasha was freaking out. She pulled on her reins and slowed her zenzen. Yorn and I did the same until we came to a stop near the far end of the pasture. Kasha immediately jumped off, dropped to all fours, and paced.
I looked to Yorn for a reaction. He was breathing too hard to speak. This was a lot for such an old guy. It was a lot for a young guy too. I was pretty winded. My heart was thumping like crazy. Even the zenzens were spent. Sweat poured off them as they gasped for air. We needed to take a break. But Kasha wasn’t even close to calming down. She paced for a few seconds, then stood on her hind legs and shouted angrily at me, “Is this what it means to be a Traveler? Is everything going the way it’s supposed to? My father’s dead, I’m a fugitive, and now we’re at the mercy of the tangs.”
Nothing I could have said would make it better. So I chose not to answer.
“Say something, Yorn!” she demanded. “Is this the big battle against evil you’ve been telling me about? Are you happy now?”
Yorn stammered, “Kasha, I–I-“
“Don’t bother,” she snarled. “I don’t want to hear it.” She dropped back down on all fours and continued pacing.
“I’m dead,” she said to the wind. “If I go home, Durgen will have me arrested and executed. Everything I’ve ever known, my whole life, is gone.”
We were at a dangerous crossroads. I didn’t know how to talk her down. Yorn and I kept looking at each other nervously, hoping the other would come up with something to say, but neither of us rose to the occasion. Kasha paced a bit more, then without warning she sprang for her zenzen, landing in the saddle.
“It’s a long way,” she announced, sounding slightly more in control. “We don’t want to lose daylight.”
That was it. The crisis was over, at least for the time being. Kasha coaxed her zenzen into a trot and continued on across the valley.
“I’m too old for this,” Yorn admitted.
“Me too, and I’m still a kid,” I replied.
“Her whole life has just been twisted,” Yorn said. “We can’t blame her for being angry.”
“I don’t,” I said. “But if we fail, her life will get a whole lot more twisted than it is now.”
I kicked my zenzen into a trot. Yorn followed right behind. We traveled that way for most of the day, with Kasha in front, me in the middle, and Yorn picking up the rear. Kasha kept checking the map and often made course corrections. I was on a constant lookout for tangs. I feared that at any moment we could ride into an ambush. A few times I thought I caught a glimpse of a green tail slithering into the bushes, but when I looked, it was gone. Either they saw our weapons and were afraid to attack, or I was loony and hallucinating. Either way was okay with me, so long as nothing came after us.
When I wasn’t totally consumed with scanning for predators, I tried to take in my surroundings. Eelong really was beautiful. We traveled through dense, tropical jungle; crossed lazy streams; climbed steep trails that brought us up and over ridges that gave us incredible views of the jungle below; and even swam across a glassy, warm lake on the backs of our zenzens. Most of the territory seemed to be uninhabited, but every so often we’d pass a village built into the trees, like Leeandra. These small towns were nowhere near as big as Leeandra, though. They were farming villages that existed solely to tend acres of crops that grew beneath their homes. After a few hours of traveling, these villages became fewer and fewer. By the time the sunbelt was directly overhead, all signs of civilization had disappeared. We were headed into scary, desolate territory.
There was wildlife, too. I’m happy to report that we saw many different creatures on Eelong, and for a change, none of them wanted to eat me. There were beautiful, deerlike animals with strong, sharp antlers that must have been used to fend off tangs. I saw more of those funny, green monkeys, along with multicolored birds that chattered in the trees. When we’d pass beneath, the birds would take flight, looking like a chaotic rainbow. There were bugs, too. On the ground, and flying. Some were the size of hummingbirds. A sting from one of those babies would hurt. We passed a large flock of birds pecking at the grass in a meadow. They were hefty things, about the size of turkeys, but with brilliant blue feathers.
“What are those called?” I asked Yorn.
“Rookers” was his answer. “Very tasty.”
I realized they were the same birds that had been roasted on the coals of Kasha’s kitchen.
Kasha seemed to be pretty clear on where the map directed us. Sometimes we’d traverse a large field with no trails and hit the other side right at another trailhead. Once we had to detour around a truly huge lake. Many times we had the choice of several trails, and after a quick glance at the map, Kasha always seemed to know which one to take. I never questioned her.
From the get-go, my body was sore. After trotting along for several hours, I was totally worked. And hungry, too. I needed a break, but I didn’t dare suggest we stop. I was on thin ice with Kasha; it wouldn’t have taken much to crack it. Besides, Yorn wasn’t complaining. My pride alone made me keep quiet. Finally, after my butt had gone beyond sore into full-on numb, Kasha stopped.
“We’ve still got a ways to go,” she said. “We should rest and eat.”
I could have kissed her. If she wasn’t a cat and if she didn’t want to kill me, I might have. We got off our zenzens, and after walking around to get the circulation back into our legs, we sat down at the base of a gnarled old tree to eat. Yorn had packed food that was nothing more than long, brown strips of dried something.
“I don’t care what this is,” I said. “So long as it isn’t gar.”
“It’s not.” Yorn chuckled. “It’s a mixture of fruit and rooker meat.”
“The blue birds?” I asked.
“Exactly. It’s mixed together, dried, seasoned, pounded into strips and then drie
d again. It may not taste like much, but it’s good for you, and it’s light for traveling.”
I bit off a piece and chewed. It was tough, but after a few chews it softened up. It actually tasted pretty good, too. On the other hand, I was so hungry, the rags on my back would have seemed tasty.
“We have something like this on Second Earth,” I said. “We call it jerky. I’m not sure why. Maybe the guy who invented it was a jerk.” I chuckled. Nobody else did. So much for clever conversation.
Kasha didn’t say a word as we ate. She sat with her back to us, staring at a mountain range far in the distance. Yorn and I made small talk about the birds, but my mind was on Kasha, wondering what she was thinking. She was the Traveler from Eelong. We needed her. Eelong needed her. Heck, Halla needed her. I wished I knew how to convince her of that. When she finally did speak, I was surprised at her question.
“How many territories are there?” she asked.
“Ten in all,” I said. “At least that’s what I’ve been told. They’re all part of Halla.”
“Explain to me what Halla is,” she said. It was an order more than a question. I didn’t know why she suddenly had this interest, but if she was willing to listen, I was ready to talk.
“The way it was told to me, Halla is everything. Every time, every place, every person and creature that ever existed. It all still exists.”
“And you understand that?” she asked.
“Well, not entirely,” I answered honestly.
“But you’re willing to risk your life and the lives of those around you to protect Halla from Saint Dane?”
Good question. I’d asked myself the same question more than once.
“I wasn’t at first,” I began. “Far from it. I didn’t want any part of Travelers or flumes and especially of Saint Dane. But since then I’ve been to a bunch of territories and seen the evil he’s capable of.”
Kasha scoffed and said, “Evil? You’re a fool, Pendragon. A tang is evil. What possible evil could a gar cause that’s worse than that?”
“I’ll tell you,” I said. “He’s killed more people than I want to count, all in the name of creating chaos. He fueled a war on Denduron and tried to poison all of Cloral. Then he nearly crushed three territories at once, my home territories of Earth. But each time the Travelers stopped him. Until Veelox. We failed on Veelox. An entire civilization is going to collapse, millions will die, all because we failed. And Saint Dane will be there to pick up the pieces. Or step on them.”
“It’s all mildly interesting,” she said calmly. “But like I said before, it has nothing to do with me. I don’t care.”
That’s when I snapped. Okay, I admit, maybe I should have been cool, but Kasha’s total lack of concern had finally gotten to me. I jumped to my feet and said, “Well you’d better start!”
“It’s all right, Pendragon,” Yorn said calmly. “Relax.”
“Relax?” I shouted, getting more amped up by the second. “Why? So I won’t upset Kasha? Sheshouldbe upset. People have died fighting Saint Dane. People I’ve loved, peopleshe’sloved.” I looked right at Kasha and said, “You don’t care? I’ll tell you what I don’t care about. I don’t care that your life is a mess. Sorry, it’s true. You’ve got way bigger problems coming, kitty cat. You want to pretend like none of this affects you? Fine. You’re wrong. If we fail, Eelong will crumble and everything you care about will crash along with it. And whether you like it or not, you’re a Traveler. So why don’t you just grow up and accept it!”
I glanced at Yorn to see his eyes were wide. He couldn’t believe I had just gone off on Kasha like that. But I couldn’t help myself. The time for pussyfooting around was over, no pun intended. I looked back to Kasha and saw that she was reaching into the pouch around her waist. Uh-oh, she was digging out one of those round, projectile weapons. I froze. She was going to kill me! Yorn saw it too, and lunged for her.
“Kasha, no!” he shouted.
He was too late. Kasha flicked the killer disk. I instinctively threw up my arms to protect my head and closed my eyes, ready to get hit. But the hit never came. Instead I heard a screeching sound of agony come from behind me. I whipped around quickly to see a tang lying on the ground, writhing in its last moments of life. The disk was lodged in its head. Kasha had just saved my life…again. I slowly turned back to see Yorn had his arms wrapped around her. He looked just as stunned as I felt.
“Oh,” was all he said.
“Nice shot,” I croaked.
Yorn dropped his arms and Kasha stood up. “Those mountains,” she said, pointing. “That’s where we’re headed. We need to get there before dark.”
We mounted up and continued the journey as if nothing had happened. Still, there was a strange tension in the air. I was embarrassed that I’d lost control, but since Kasha was still leading us along the map route, I guessed it didn’t matter. The real question was, had anything I said sunk in?
The closer we got to the mountains, the less vegetation there was. The ground went from soft brown earth to rocky scrabble. The trees were no longer lush and leafy, but now scraggly and dry. A few times my ears popped, which meant we were gaining altitude.
Yorn rode up beside me and said, “I don’t know anyone who’s ever come this far. It’s definitely not on any map, other than Seegen’s.”
That made sense; we hadn’t been on a cut trail for hours. Kasha seemed confident in the route, though. She’d check Seegen’s map against the terrain and the sunbelt, making slight adjustments. The steep, gray mountains loomed high before us and stretched out far to either side. If Black Water was on the far side of these huge peaks, it would take days for us to go around. But I didn’t dare say that. I had to trust the map, and Kasha’s ability to read it.
“There!” Kasha finally announced, pointing.
I looked ahead to the steep, craggy rise of the mountains and saw…nothing.
“I see it!” Yorn exclaimed.
I was feeling a little handicapped. I didn’t have sharp cat eyes to see whatever they were pointing to.
“I don’t see anything,” I admitted, more curious than embarrassed.
“A trail,” Yorn answered. “Cut into the mountain.”
Kasha made a slight change in direction and headed for the invisible trail that apparently only cats could see. As far as I was concerned, we were marching straight for a steep, rocky dead end. But as we got closer, I began to make out a thin, zigzag line in the craggy face of the mountain. Sure enough, before I knew it, we were walking on a narrow path. It was the first sign of civilization we had seen in hours. My heart started to race. Could this be the trail to Black Water? The rocky trail took a sharp turn and got very steep. We climbed, single file, in one direction for a while, then hit a switchback that sent us around the other way. The whole time we kept climbing higher and higher, zigzagging our way up.
The scary thing was that the trail was nothing more than a narrow ledge cut into the steep mountainside. In no time we were up so high that my palms started to sweat when I looked down. I found myself leaning into the mountain, just in case the zenzen stumbled.
We reached another switchback, and I expected to make the turn and continue climbing in the opposite direction, but the trail didn’t go that way. Instead it led to a narrow gap that looked like the mountain had been wrenched apart. The opening was so narrow that it blended in with the terrain and couldn’t be seen from below, even by sharp klee eyes. We were about to walkinto the mountain! Kasha didn’t hesitate and walked her zenzen right into the fissure. Yorn and I followed close behind. The gap was barely wide enough for the zenzen. I had to concentrate to keep my animal walking straight because my knees kept scraping against the rock walls to either side. I was glad to be off the ledge, but didn’t especially enjoy having my legs shredded.
A couple of times I heard the sound of falling stones coming from above. I quickly looked up and saw pebbles bouncing down toward me. I ducked, and the pebbles missed, but it gave me a bad feeling. What cause
d them to fall? Was it coincidence? Or did something up there kick them loose? If we were attacked by a pack of tangs, we’d be trapped and slaughtered. I tried not to think about it and went back to concentrating on protecting my poor knees.
Thankfully, it didn’t take long for us to arrive on the far side of this gap. I was actually surprised that it was so quick, because there was no way we could have traveled all the way through to the far side of the mountain range. When I directed my zenzen out into the light, I saw the reason why.
We were still in the mountains. The three of us stood on a wide ledge, looking down into a beautiful, enclosed valley. It was like being on the inside of a volcano. Unlike the gray, rocky terrain we had been traveling through for the past few hours, the inside of this bowl was covered with lush plant life. I counted seven waterfalls that began near the rim of the bowl and cascaded down to a large, mountain lake that took up much of the bottom.
“Is this Black Water?” I asked.
“No,” she answered.
Kasha looked at her map, then looked to the sky. “What are you doing?” Yorn asked.
“According to the map,” she answered, “this is the exact time we need to be here.”
“I don’t understand,” Yorn said.
“The sunbelt needs to be at a certain angle,” Kasha explained.
I looked around. I’m not sure why. I had no idea of what to look for. A few minutes passed. Still nothing. Kasha kept checking the sky. I kept looking around like an idiot. A few more minutes crept by. The sunbelt dropped lower. Soon it would be resting on the rim of this crater, and then it would be dark.
“You’re sure this is the right spot?” I finally asked. Kasha scanned the inside of the bowl, then announced, “There!”
She pointed to the far side of the bowl. I had been staring out there since we had stopped and didn’t expect to see anything different, but I was wrong. Something was different with the waterfalls. They were all about the same height. The water appeared white as it crested the top and fell all the way down to the lake. But now, with the sunbelt at just the right angle, the light must have been blocked by a rock formation or something. For now, the second waterfall from the right no longer appeared white. The water had gone dark. It totally stood out from the other six. There was only one way to describe it.
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