The Merchant of Death

by D. J. MacHale

  She had multiple drapes of silver necklaces, bracelets that traveled halfway up her arms, and rings on every finger. She also had a tiara perched on top of her head that looked kind of stupid because it was too small. On any normal head it would look fine, but her big, old, round, greasy-haired dome made it look like a doll crown on a giant. Of course, all of the silver jewelry was adorned with glaze. The precious blue stones were cut in every shape and size imaginable. It must have taken the Milago miners a week to dig up this much glaze. Her throne was decorated with glaze as well. There were baseball-sized stones mounted all over the golden chair.

  As I took all of this in, I kept thinking about the Transfer ceremony where that miner died because they hadn’t brought up enough glaze. I can honestly say that I have never hated anyone in my life. But this lady was in line to be the first.

  “Show me the toy,” she commanded. Her voice was high and squeaky, like fingernails on a blackboard.

  The knight who was holding Alder grabbed his walkie-talkie and handed it to Kagan with a subservient bow. She took it and inspected it from all angles.

  “What sort of magic is this?” she asked.

  I couldn’t resist. I took my walkie, hit the send button and said, “Put it down!”

  Bad move. Kagan let out a yelp and dropped the walkie like it was alive. It hit the floor with a clatter and a knight immediately crushed it with his boot like an annoying bug. I stood there holding the second walkie (which was now totally useless) wishing I hadn’t pulled that stunt. Kagan hoisted herself up out of her throne and waddled toward me, her jewelry jangling as she walked. She stared down at me with those big, round black eyes, raised a meaty hand, then hauled off and slapped me across the face.

  Yeow. That stung. But I wouldn’t give her the benefit of letting her know how much, so I clenched my teeth and forced back my tears. I looked to Kagan and oddly enough, it seemed as if she were holding back tears too. She looked at her hand, then looked at me with genuine surprise and exclaimed, “You hurt my hand!”

  Say what? Whose fault was that? I guess it was mine, because instantly two knights ran up to me and jammed the points of their spears in my neck.

  “Whoa, whoa!” I yelled. “Sorry. It won’t happen again!” What I wanted to say was: “Gee, sorry I hit your hand with my face, chubby.” But I figured it wouldn’t be a good idea to be a wise ass. Especially when I had two spears at my throat.

  “Let him go,” commanded Mallos/Saint Dane.

  The knights pulled their spears away, but stayed on either side of me. Kagan fell back into her throne, sobbing like a pouting baby. Mallos comforted her by saying, “Shall I call the surgeon, Your Majesty?”

  Surgeon? You gotta be kidding me.

  “No,” sniffled Kagan. “I will be brave.”

  Give me a break. This lady was a piece of work all right.

  “He will be punished.” Mallos added, “Along with his uncle.”

  This was bad. We came to rescue Uncle Press, and now it looked as if I was going to join him in whatever horrible fate they had planned. Some rescue, huh? Mallos then left Kagan and walked to me.

  “Press will be so happy to see you,” he said to me with an oily smile.

  “Where is he?” I asked, trying to sound like I wasn’t totally petrified.

  Mallos answered me with a laugh. He turned to Kagan saying, “This boy is a spy like his uncle, like this girl”—he walked to Alder and stared him square in the eye—“and like this traitor Bedoowan.” Mallos leaned close to Alder until their noses nearly touched. Alder was scared, but tried not to flinch. Mallos said, “I always knew you were a traitor, but I needed you to deliver Pendragon.”

  Alder dropped his head in shame and embarrassment.

  Loor struggled in anger to pull away from the two knights who were holding her, but as strong as she was, these huge knights held her tight. To stop her from struggling, one of the knights gave a quick jab with the knife he was holding to her throat. My stomach turned when I saw a trickle of blood flowing down her neck. But Loor wouldn’t flinch. She wouldn’t let the guy know he had hurt her. I wasn’t surprised.

  Mallos then walked to the throne saying, “They are all conspiring to incite the Milago into a revolt against us, your majesty. And for that they should be put to death.”

  Things were falling apart, fast. “What do you mean ‘us’?” I shouted at Mallos. Then to Kagan I said, “He’s not a Bedoowan! Ask him where he comes from!”

  Kagan looked at Mallos. Was there a hint of doubt in her mind? If I could expose Mallos as being a Traveler from a different territory, maybe Kagan wouldn’t buy everything he had to say. It was a long shot, but the only thing I could think of.

  “It’s true and I can prove it. Who thought of the trick to get me here? It must have been Mallos. Nobody else knows how those walkie-talkies work, right? A Bedoowan wouldn’t know how to use that magic.”

  Kagan looked at the crushed walkie on the floor, then to Mallos. I was getting through to her.

  “Mallos isn’t a Bedoowan,” I said with authority. “You can’t trust him!”

  She sniffed back her tears, looked at Mallos, smiled, and said, “Of course, Mallos is not a Bedoowan. He came to us many years ago from the far side of the ocean and has been my most trusted advisor ever since. Why do you tell me things I already know?”

  Oh well, so much for my brilliant plan. She already knew. Kagan reached to the table next to her throne and grabbed a piece of purple fruit. It must have been past her feeding time, which was probably every five minutes. She took a big sloppy bite and a river of purple juice ran down her chin and landed on her ample chest. I wanted to puke. When she spoke, it was with a mouth full of fruit goo. Did I mention I wanted to puke?

  “Why are you trying to get the Milago to make war with us?” she asked in her squeaky, annoying voice. It was weird; she sounded all innocent, like a three-year-old asking why the sky is blue. Was it possible that she didn’t know how bad the Milago had it? Was Mallos really the guy who was calling the shots and using this creepy, child-woman like a puppet? I figured I’d better answer carefully.

  “Because they have horrible lives,” I said. “They live in dirty, mud huts and they don’t have enough food. If they don’t mine enough glaze, they are murdered. But the worst thing is, they’re dying. The air in the mines is poisoning them. They want to fight because they are desperate for better lives.”

  That about summed it up. I didn’t want to accuse the Bedoowan of taking advantage of them, that might get her mad. But I wanted to paint a picture of how bad the Milago had it. If Her Royal Chubness didn’t know these things before, maybe now she would think twice about what her people were doing and have a little sympathy.

  She took another juicy bite from her purple fruit and stared at me. What was she thinking? Alder and Loor watched her, waiting for her reaction. Mallos looked bored. Kagan then tossed the juicy wet fruit pit on the floor. Instantly a Novan servant appeared from behind the throne, cleaned up the pit, then disappeared again. No wonder this woman was so fat. She didn’t have to lift a finger to do anything.

  Kagan then said innocently, “That is how it always has been. The Milago dig for glaze so that the Bedoowan can trade it for lovely things. It has been this way forever.”

  Wow. Could she really be so clueless? She didn’t think there was anything wrong with the Milago suffering and dying for them. I glanced to Loor and she had the same look of dumbfounded surprise on her face that I’m sure I had. Alder just kept looking down at the floor. I think he already knew where Kagan’s head was. I wasn’t sure of what to do next, but I had to say something.

  “And what do the Bedoowan do for the Milago in return for their hard work?” I asked.

  Kagan cocked her head in surprise, as if I were asking something she had never thought of before. It reminded me of the way Marley turns her head and her ears go up when she hears a strange sound. Before answering, Kagan reached for another piece of purple fruit and starte
d gnawing on it. She made these little grunting, slurping sounds that turned my stomach. What a pig. The whole while she gazed off into the distance, as if she were giving some serious thought to the question I had asked. I couldn’t wait to hear the answer because from what I saw, the Bedoowan do nothing for the Milago except abuse them. Alder and Loor waited for the answer as well. Even Mallos looked at the queen in anticipation.

  Kagan took another messy bite of her fruit, swallowed, then looked right at me and said, “Your questions make my head hurt.” She then looked at Mallos and said, “Kill them.”

  Whoa, bad response. Instantly the knights grabbed me and started dragging me and Loor and Alder toward the door.

  Loor put up the best fight. She screamed back at Kagan, “It does not matter what happens to us! The Milago will not be slaves forever!”

  That was very bold and all, but I was kind of thinking itdid matter what happened to us. The knights dragged us out into the corridor and toward the stairs when I heard Mallos calling from behind.

  “Wait,” he shouted. “I wish to speak with that one!”

  That meant me. The knights stopped dragging me along and Mallos approached us. He looked at me for a long while, as if sizing me up.

  “Remember what happens here today, Pendragon,” he said seriously. “This is how it will be. There is no hope for you. Halla will fall, and you will fall with it.”

  He then looked at the knights and ordered, “Take them to the box.” As the knights dragged me away, Mallos called, “Remember, Pendragon!”

  What was he talking about? I expected him to say something like: “The Milago are doomed!” or “You will all die a horrible death!” or some other nastiness. But instead, what he said made no sense. What is Halla? Osa had said something about Halla before she died, but I had no idea what she was talking about. More important, if I was about to die, then why did he tell me to remember what was going to happen? The way things were going, I wasn’t going to live long enough to have time to forget. Believe it or not, as scared as I was, Mallos’s words gave me hope. They reminded me that this was actually a larger battle than it seemed. It wasn’t just about the Milago and the Bedoowan. It was about the future of the whole territory of Denduron. If Mallos threatened that he would always defeat me, then he must expect there to be more battles. And maybe that meant he wasn’t planning to kill us after all. At least that’s what I hoped.

  The knights dragged the three of us to the circular stairway. I expected them to bring us down to the prison area, but instead we went up. We climbed one more flight of stairs and were then hurried down a wide corridor to a wooden door with a heavy lock. One of the knights pulled out a big old key, opened the door and shoved us inside. Behind us, the door slammed with a booming crash and we found ourselves in the dark. I think we were all too stunned and scared to look around. Not that there was anything to see.

  “Is this it?” asked Loor, sounding bold as ever. “Is this where we will die?”

  “No,” said Alder. “This is not where we will die.” Alder seemed pretty calm about the whole thing. It was strange. Alder was a pretty nervous guy in general, but now he acted all casual in the face of certain death. I guess of the three of us, I was the only one who was actually scared. No fair.

  “How come you’re so calm?” I asked.

  I didn’t like his answer. He said, “Because this is the holding area. Nothing will happen to us here. When they are ready, they will bring us to the horror.”

  I guess that meant Alder wasn’t being casual, he was in a state of shock. He knew this was the calm before the storm. Something was coming and the thought of it was so horrible that it frightened him far beyond the point of showing nervousness.

  “What will they do to us?” asked Loor.

  She didn’t have to wait for an answer. A door creaked open on the far side of the room and bathed the place in bright sunshine. Once the sun came in I saw this was a cell, with shackles on the walls and leg irons on the floor. Two knights in full battle gear stood at the open door. One of them motioned for us to come outside. We knew we had no choice, so we walked toward the sunlight. Loor took the lead, but before she went she turned to us and said, “I will not die without taking some of those Bedoowan animals with me.” She then turned and left, with Alder and I close behind.

  When we stepped into the sunshine, I was blinded and had to shade my eyes. Before they adjusted, I got a strange feeling. I think maybe it was the sound, but I had the feeling we weren’t alone. Once my eyes adjusted I realized that not only weren’t we alone, we were standing in a huge stadium along with thousands of other people. This was the Bedoowan version of a sports arena. It was open air. Above our heads was blue sky—we were on the top level of the Bedoowan palace. Two days before when I had looked across the inlet to the bluff above the palace, I thought it was just barren land. But now I realized that from where I was I couldn’t look down into this arena that was dug below the surface.

  The stadium was square. It reminded me of one of those arenas where they play tennis matches. My guess was that the place could seat a few thousand people. And it was packed. Each side of the arena held a different tribe. One side was all Bedoowan. They sat on cushioned seats with pillows for their backs. The next section was taken up by the Novan servants who sat on long bleachers. It was odd seeing so many of these pure white doll people in their white uniforms. The next section was full of Milago. It was obvious they were Milago because of their filthy leather clothes and the fact that they weren’t even allowed to sit. They had to stand on stone tiers. My guess was they entered the arena from above, since they weren’t allowed to walk through the palace. The fourth side was nearly empty. Halfway up the stands there was a box with a throne. Obviously this was where Kagan sat.

  There were high walls with spikes built between the sections so there was no way the tribes could mingle. But even if the Milago wanted to get a little rowdy, they couldn’t because there were armed knights ringing the top of the stadium. They stood as sentries, lining the entire top tier with their spears at the ready.

  We stood in a section right next to the playing field below Kagan’s box. There were no seats here, only a low barrier between us and the field. At least, I thought it was a playing field, but I wasn’t exactly sure what game they played here. The flat area was about the size of a baseball diamond. The surface was grass, but there weren’t any lines or markings that would show the boundaries for a game. It was just a plain, grass field.

  I looked up at the various tribes in the stands and saw that each group acted very differently. The Bedoowan were chatting and seemed relaxed. Some smiled, others laughed. There were kids, too. It had the feel of a baseball stadium before a game. The Novans sat quietly looking down at the field. Most had their hands crossed in their laps politely and didn’t move a muscle. Their faces were blank. I couldn’t tell if they were happy to be here or not. The Milago were much easier to read. They were restless. They kept glancing up at the guards that surrounded the stadium. It was obvious that they weren’t here by choice, and it wasn’t for entertainment.

  Unfortunately I was afraid that Loor and Alder and I were the main attraction. I leaned over to Alder and asked, “What kind of game do they play here?”

  Alder’s eyes were riveted on the playing field. “This is no game, Pendragon,” he said softly.

  Before I could ask any more, I heard chimes. They were three simple notes that sounded like they came from a loud, but pleasant xylophone. All eyes turned to the empty viewing box above the playing field. I looked up too and saw two knights walk out into the box, followed by Mallos, who was followed by Kagan. She didn’t wave to the crowd or anything the way you would expect a queen to acknowledge her subjects. She just lumbered to her throne and plopped herself down like a bored, spoiled little kid. She was eating again too. Big surprise. It looked like she was gnawing on a turkey leg. The entire stadium was now quiet except for the slurping and grunting sounds as Kagan finished off her latest
snack. I really would have been grossed out, except for the fact that I knew whatever was going to happen, was going to happen soon. My heart started racing. I’m not sure what would have been worse—knowing our fate or not. The fear of the unknown was terrifying. Either way though, the show was about to begin.

  Kagan looked up to Mallos and said impatiently, “Well?”

  Mallos took a few steps forward and motioned down to the playing field. Instantly I saw a small door open on the opposite side of the field. A few seconds later somebody was pushed out from inside and tumbled down onto the grass. Obviously this guy didn’t want to be here. In a few seconds I realized who it was—the scrawny Milago prisoner who was in Uncle Press’s cell. I guess he didn’t get away when he had the chance. The poor guy looked scared. He pulled himself to his feet and looked around the stadium while shielding his eyes from the suns.

  As if on cue, the Bedoowan spectators let out a loud, football-like cheer. This startled the guy and he stumbled away from them to the center of the field. At the same time, the Novans applauded politely. There was no yelling or whistling from them, just polite applause that ended as quickly as it began. The Milago didn’t do anything but watch in silence. The guy backed to the center of the field because it was the one place where he could be the farthest away from everybody. He stood in the center, alone, his eyes darting around the stands with confusion and fear. He seemed to be looking for help. Then, his eyes finally fell on me. That’s where he stopped. It was creepy. I didn’t know what to do. Was I the only familiar face in the crowd? Did he want me to wave or something? I looked back at him, feeling helpless.