“Pendragon?” Kasha whispered.
Her eyes were open and barely focused.
“Don’t talk,” I said. “I’m going to find somebody to help you.”
“No,” she said. “I don’t want to be alone.”
“But if I don’t get help-“
Kasha cut me off by squeezing my arm. One look into her eyes and my heart sank. Her once-sharp eyes were becoming glassy. Blood flowed from her wound. The grim truth was that Kasha didn’t need help. She needed comfort. I sat down next to her, lifted her head and put my hand under it, to act as a cushion against the hard, dirt floor.
“Tell me again,” Kasha whispered.
“About what?”
“Tell me what your uncle Press said,” she answered weakly. “I need to hear it.”
It took every bit of courage I had to keep it together, and answer. “Uncle Press was a lot like your father,” I said, my voice cracking. “People loved to be around him because he was the kind of guy who never had problems, only challenges.
He never gave reasons, or excuses why things couldn’t be done. He just went out and did them.”
“Just like Seegen,” Kasha whispered.
“And Uncle Press was a Traveler. He taught me a lot about what being a Traveler meant, but he didn’t even scratch the surface. He knew a lot more, but never got the chance to tell me. The last thing he said, as he was dying, was not to be sad because one day I’d see him again. He promised. He never broke a promise to me and I don’t believe he’s going to now.”
“I wish I knew him,” she said.
“I wish you did too.”
Kasha swallowed and said, “Am I going to see my father now?”
I almost lost it. “Yeah,” I said. “You are.”
“I’m proud to have known you, Bobby Pendragon. And to have been a Traveler.”
“You’ll always be a Traveler,” I said.
Kasha smiled, closed her eyes, and died. I felt the life go out of her as her head slumped into my hand. I kept staring at her, refusing to believe it, hoping that her eyes would open. But they didn’t. The harsh reality landed like a heavy weight on my shoulders. Another Traveler was gone. I knew of others who died before her: Osa, Seegen, Spader’s father, and of course, Uncle Press. But this was different. Kasha was the first Traveler from my generation who died. The last generation.
Saint Dane’s true purpose on Eelong was suddenly coming into focus.
“Hello, Pendragon,” came a voice from deeper in the cavern. I knew who it was without looking. “Hello, Loor,” I said.
The tall, dark-skinned warrior girl stepped out of the shadows and stood over Kasha and me. “I knew you would be coming,” she said softly. “But I did not expect this.”
“Nothing is the same, Loor,” I said, trying not to let my emotions take over. “We saved Eelong. The territory is safe. But I don’t think Saint Dane cares one way or the other.”
“Then what was the point?” Loor asked.
“He wants to change the way things were meant to be,” I answered. “Saint Dane is doing all that he can to tear Halla apart. On Eelong, we helped him.”
“Please explain,” Loor said.
I gently laid Kasha’s head down, stood up, and walked to the mouth of the flume. I took a step inside and called out, “Eelong!”
Nothing happened.
Loor stepped in and tried herself. “Eelong!”
The flume remained quiet.
“The gate on Eelong is destroyed,” I concluded.
“How did Saint Dane do that?” Loor asked.
“He didn’t. We did. Uncle Press always said that mixing the territories was wrong. What happened on Eelong is proof. Saint Dane may have lost a territory, but we lost three Travelers.”
I saw the surprised look on Loor’s face. She was too stunned to ask what I meant by that. I walked back to Kasha’s body and knelt down. Gently I took the Traveler ring from around her neck. “Kasha was the Traveler from Eelong,” I said. “Since we’re the last generation, Eelong no longer has one.” I put the cord that held Kasha’s ring around my neck and stood to face Loor. “And since the gate on Eelong is destroyed, Spader and Gunny are trapped.”
For the first time ever, I saw surprise in Loor’s eyes. “But they are safe?” she asked.
“I think so. But they aren’t going anywhere. Saint Dane said the rules have changed, but they haven’t. He’s just decided not to follow them.”
Loor and I brought Kasha’s body out of the cavern and smuggled it through the twisting caves and tunnels beneath the city of Xhaxhu. I had been here twice before and remembered the route. But there was one very big difference. Xhaxhu was an oasis city surrounded by a vast desert. Its water supply came from a complex series of underground rivers. These rivers were the lifeblood of Xhaxhu. Without this water, the city would dry up and blow away. We had to pass one of these rivers on our way out of the tunnels, but when we came to it, I was stunned to see that the river was absolutely, totally dry. Instead of the fast-flowing waterway that I remembered, I saw a deep, empty trough with a few inches of dry dirt in the bottom. I rested Kasha’s body down and stood on the edge of what had once been a deep canal. I was speechless.
“This is why I knew you were coming,” Loor said. “But now is not the time. We must complete our task.”
I shook off the image of the dry riverbed. We picked Kasha up to continue our journey. When we climbed up into the city, I saw that it was the dead of night. The streets were empty. That was good. It would have been tough to explain what we were doing. We brought Kasha to the ceremonial center where the fallen warriors of Zadaa were cremated. Since the klee tradition was to cremate their dead, I thought it was the right thing to do. We wrapped Kasha’s body in a white cloth and gently placed her inside the stone structure where the fire would be set. Loor took on the tough task and lit the ceremonial fires. I had to step outside until it was done. I didn’t have the strength to gut this one out. It didn’t take long. Soon after, Loor came out of the crematorium carrying a silver urn that held Kasha’s ashes. I took it, felt its weight, and made a promise to Kasha thatIwould do all I could to one day scatter her ashes from Seegen’s perch, high above Leeandra.
“You must grieve for your friend,” Loor said. “I will grieve as well, for we have lost a Traveler. But we must quickly put it behind us, for there is much to do.”
“Saint Dane is coming here,” I said.
“Tell me something I do not already know,” Loor answered. “The war that I have feared for so long has begun. You saw the dry river below. The Rokador and Batu tribes have already spilled blood to control the rivers of Zadaa.”
There would be no time to rest. No time to grieve. No time to think back on the meaning of all that had happened and recharge our batteries for the next encounter with Saint Dane. I wasn’t surprised.
“And so we go,” I said softly.
“So we go,” Loor agreed.
This is where I’m going to end my journal, guys. I’m writing it in Loor’s small home in the warrior complex of Xhaxhu. Mark, Courtney, there are three things I want you to take away from this journal, and from what happened on Eelong.
The first, and maybe the most important, is that what happened was not your fault. Saint Dane gave us no choice but to do what we did. I believe he poisoned Seegen as the klee was leaving for Second Earth, so that you would discover the Cloral poison. You did exactly what you needed to do. If you hadn’t gone to Cloral to get the antidote, Eelong would have been doomed. Beyond that, Gunny and Kasha and I would probably have died too. Either way, we would have lost three Travelers.
Saint Dane manipulated us all. He told me his plans to wipe out the gars so that once we discovered the Cloral poison, we’d do all we could to stop him. Allowing an entire race to be killed is something he knew we’d never let happen. But this brings me to the second thing you must know.
I believe there is a balance to Halla, and to the territories. That’s why I’m now
convinced that what Uncle Press told me so long ago is still the truth. Mingling the territories is wrong. Saint Dane did it because he’s trying to create chaos. But we can’t follow. He lured you guys into using the flumes, which was wrong. Each time you used a flume, it grew weaker. When you left Eelong, it was the last straw. That’s why the gate collapsed. Whatever force holds Halla in balance was disrupted. I believe this was Saint Dane’s plan all along. It’s why he met you on Second Earth and gave you Gunny’s hand. He tempted you into using the flumes, then gave you a reason to do it.
Saint Dane’s goal wasn’t to destroy Eelong, it was about forcing us to change the way things were meant to be. He wants to disrupt all of Halla. So I will repeat what I’ve said before. Do not use the flumes. I’m saying this now with more certainty than ever. If you do, what happened to the flume on Eelong might happen on Second Earth.
The final thing I want you guys to know, is that I am incredibly proud of you. I mean it when I say this wasn’t your fault. You two were brave and resourceful. Words can’t begin to describe it. I know you did this to help me, and for that I will always love you both. But I also know that you understand how important it is to stop Saint Dane. To risk your lives the way you did, man, I am in awe of you two. If there was one thing I wish, it would be that you were both Travelers. I’d give anything to have you here with me. But you can’t. I can only hope that you will continue to be my acolytes and protect my journals.
As I’m writing this, I have to admit that I’m really disturbed about the future. Our adventure on Eelong kicked this war with Saint Dane into another gear. Telling right from wrong, good from bad, isn’t so easy anymore. We broke the rules on Eelong. But we did it because we thought it was for a greater good. And it was. But we paid a steep price for it. My problem is, I’m afraid I won’t know what I should do when faced with this kind of decision again. Do I allow an entire race to be wiped out in order to play by the rules? Worse, do we let Saint Dane destroy a territory to save all of Halla? I still have nightmares about theHindenburg. We’re the good guys, but how moral is it to allow people to die, no matter what the reason? When I think like this, I wonder if I’m truly the right person to be the lead Traveler. I’ve done my best, I can say that for sure. But when the next difficult decision has to be made, will my best be good enough? I guess we’re all going to find out.
Be well, my friends. Try to go back to living your normal lives, though I’m not sure what normal is anymore. After what you went through on Eelong, I’m sure you’re going to have the same problem. For that, I’m sorry. When I write next time, I’ll bring you up to speed on the nightmare that I have found here on Zadaa.
Because it is a nightmare.
And so we go. Again.
END OF JOURNAL #19
FB2 document info
Document ID: fbd-b849f9-d8ed-b74a-ab80-2f50-026e-e13c12
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 04.04.2012
Created using: Fiction Book Designer, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6 software
Document authors :
About
This file was generated by Lord KiRon's FB2EPUB converter version 1.1.5.0.
(This book might contain copyrighted material, author of the converter bears no responsibility for it's usage)
Этот файл создан при помощи конвертера FB2EPUB версии 1.1.5.0 написанного Lord KiRon.
(Эта книга может содержать материал который защищен авторским правом, автор конвертера не несет ответственности за его использование)
http://www.fb2epub.net
https://code.google.com/p/fb2epub/
Black Water tpa-5 Page 37
