Uncle Press and Alder didn’t move. They knew it was futile to seek shelter, so they stood together and waited for the end. They weren’t going to have to wait long.
The rumbling grew louder. It began to sound more like deep, booming explosions. As I pushed the cart with every bit of energy I had, I began to feel heat at my back. The tak mine was probably a blast furnace by now. I’m sure the shark was already roasted. It wouldn’t be long before the whole mine blew.
Up ahead the tunnel was growing brighter. We were reaching the end, but I had no idea what that meant because I was crouched down behind the ore car pushing for all I was worth. Still, whatever was up there meant we had a shot at getting out, so I dug down even deeper and pumped my legs even harder. The faster we moved, the brighter the tunnel became. We were definitely nearing the end. Now the tunnel was shaking so violently that I was afraid it would throw the ore car off the track. If we didn’t get to the end soon, it would definitely be the end for us.
I don’t know why I realized what was about to happen when I did, but I did. It hit me about three seconds before-hand. Maybe it was some kind of survival instinct, but whatever it was, those few seconds prepared me. As we were hurtling down that tunnel with the force of the exploding tak at my back, I remembered about the layout of the mines. We were flying along a track that ran parallel to the tunnel under the Bedoowan palace. I knew where that tunnel ended, and that meant this tunnel would end the same way. This was a ventilation tunnel that led to the ocean bluffs. We were about to be launched out of the end where there was nothing waiting for us but a long drop to the sea.
And that’s exactly what happened. Without breaking stride I pushed the ore cart off the end. One second I was running, the next second we were falling. I tumbled out of control, not knowing which way was up. I was desperate to see the water and get my body in a position to take the impact. If I hit head first, I’d break my neck. So I corkscrewed into a position to avoid that. Splashdown was a second away. Believe it or not, the last thought I had before hitting the water was, “Loor can’t swim!”
There’s only one word I can use to describe the feeling of hitting the water at that speed. Rude. It was just plain rude. I was able to twist myself around so I hit on my side rather than my head, but the impact still knocked the breath out of me. What a jolt! It was worse than when I beefed it off the sled into the snow after the crazy sleigh ride down the mountain. But I didn’t lose consciousness this time. Good thing. I didn’t want to drown. After all we’d been through, that wouldn’t be fair. I came to the surface and looked back up at the opening to the mine. The fall was a big one, maybe thirty feet. But that’s not what concerned me at the moment because I also saw that the entire wall of bluffs was shaking. Remember, these were cliffs. It was like looking up at a wall of skyscrapers. If this thing came down, we’d be buried.
I looked around quickly and was relieved to see that Loor was floating near me. She must’ve fallen out on the way down. I swam to her and listened to her breathing. She was alive, but I didn’t know how badly she was hurt. All I wanted to do was swim as far away from the bluffs as possible. I also found the wooden ore car that had been our transportation out of there. It was floating right next to us. Luckily it hadn’t hit either of us when we fell. So I got Loor on her back, brought her over to the floating ore car and grabbed on. We had a better chance of surviving with this lifeboat than by my swimming skills alone. I wasn’t sure what direction to go in, but I soon realized I didn’t have a choice. There was a swift current running parallel to the shore that swept us along. We weren’t moving farther out into the ocean, but we were moving steadily away from the mines. It was a good thing too because that’s when it happened.
Ignition.
The whole world exploded. The sound was like a deep, powerful growl from a giant demon trapped below ground and struggling to force its way to the surface. A second later, the ventilation shafts along the bluffs blew out, spewing huge blasts of flame that shot over our heads like rocket engines on full power. There must have been twenty openings, all breathing fire that streamed a hundred yards out over the ocean. The water began to churn and roil. It took everything I had to keep Loor and myself afloat. The bluffs themselves seemed to be out of focus. But that was because they were shuddering from an immense force that was tearing them apart from within. My thoughts went to Uncle Press and to Alder. They were up there somewhere. If the top blew off like a monster volcano, they’d be done.
Mark, Courtney, what I saw then will haunt me until the day I die. The eruption had begun a good thirty seconds before, but the powerful flames continued to jet from the holes in the bluff with incredible intensity. I allowed myself one small bit of hope that most of the force from the exploding tak would be funneled out through these openings. Maybe these man-made openings would act like release valves to get rid of the force of the explosion before it destroyed the land above, and every living thing on it.
That’s when I heard the sound.
It was different than the rumble from the explosions. It sounded more like something was cracking. If you’ve ever heard the sound that a big tree makes in its last moments as it falls to a lumberjack’s ax, that was what it sounded like. It’s a horrible, screeching sound as the tree tries to hold on to the last sinews of its trunk. That high-pitched tearing sound was what I now heard, only multiplied by about a million.
I looked up to my left to see where the sound was coming from. Imagine a huge, five-story castle carved into the bluffs. That was the Bedoowan palace, and it was about to fall down. The horrible creaking sounds were the palace’s last desperate gasp at trying to hang on to its perch. But it was no use. The force of the exploding tak was tearing it apart. Cracks appeared like spiderwebs all over the stone castle. For a moment I thought it would dissolve into a billion pieces. But with one last groan the giant palace pulled free of the bluff and slowly began to lean over. In a final thunderous crack, the palace let go and toppled into the sea with a monstrous splash.
If the swift current had been running the other way, Loor and I would have been right under it. And though we were clear of the tumbling palace, we weren’t safe yet. When the huge building hit, it created a monster surge of water that was headed right for us. If we didn’t ride this thing, we’d drown for sure. So I faced the oncoming rush, prepared to ride it like a wave. We both rose with the huge swell and came down on the other side safely. Unlike regular wave sets, there was no second wave to worry about. This was a one-time phenomenon, and we had survived it.
Once the immediate danger had past, I looked at the castle. Or should I say, at what was left of it. The giant structure had hit the water and rolled over. One whole side was above water. I looked up to the bluffs to see a gaping scar that used to be the palace. The only thing left was the heavy columns it had been built upon.
I then realized that the flames had stopped shooting out of the mine airshafts. The rumbling had stopped too. The explosion was over—and we were still alive! Now all we had to do was get to shore. I tried to push the ore car along, but that was more trouble than it was worth. So I kicked the car away, but not without a nod of gratitude, for it had saved our lives.
It didn’t take long for me to get Loor to shore. When I got us close enough for my feet to touch sand, I stood up and put her on my back with a fireman’s carry again. It wasn’t easy. My adrenaline surge was gone, and along with it, most of my strength. So after a difficult struggle I fell to my knees and slid Loor off of me onto the sand.
Then I collapsed. I figured that as soon as I got my breath and Loor woke up, we’d make our way up the bluffs to find Uncle Press and Alder. I feared for what we would find up there, but didn’t have the energy left to worry. I wanted to enjoy being alive for a few moments, so I laid down on the sand, closed my eyes and crashed.
I think I had earned it.
Journal #4
(continued)
Denduron
Iprobably would have slept on that beac
h for weeks if I hadn’t been gently nudged awake by something tapping at my foot. As I slowly pulled out of slumberland, I remembered that giant freakin’ shark in the flume. I felt the tapping on my foot again and somehow made the connection between that feeling and the shark. Suddenly I was convinced that the shark had survived and was getting ready to bite off my feet. So I yelped and jumped up while pulling my legs closer for protection.
Of course it wasn’t the shark. It was Loor. She was awake and trying to rouse me. She hadn’t expected my dramatic reaction though, and when I jumped, she did too.
“I am sorry, Pendragon,” she said sheepishly. “I did not know you were ticklish.”
Ticklish? I was too embarrassed to tell her why I really jumped. “No problem,” I said. “How do you feel?”
She rubbed the nasty black and blue mark on her forehead and grimaced.
“My head does not hurt as much as my pride,” she said.
“What do you remember?” I asked.
“There was something coming at us from the flume, but what I remember does not make sense.”
“Yeah, it does,” I said. “It was a shark. Saint Dane didn’t want us to follow him.”
Loor thought about this for a moment. I think she was hoping that her memory was a bad dream. “After that I do not remember much,” she continued. “But I do have memories of you carrying me. Was that a dream?”
“No, it wasn’t,” I said.
Loor frowned. At some point I would give her all the gory details of our escape, but now wasn’t the time. Loor was a proud warrior. It hurt her ego that it took a weakling like me to save her. I didn’t need to rub salt in the wound. Not yet anyway. Believe me, at some point I was going to get mileage out of this, but not now.
“You continue to surprise me, Pendragon,” she said. “You have proven yourself to be brave and clever, and now it seems you react as a warrior would after all.” She paused, and then said, “Thank you.”
She had just given me the highest praise she was capable of. In her mind I was worthy of being elevated to the lofty status of warrior. I wasn’t sure I agreed with her though. I was no warrior. Everything I did was out of total panic. I never felt as if I had a choice. In fact, I’d just as soon she didn’t consider me a warrior because I didn’t want her to expect any more heroics. As far as I was concerned, my Indiana Jones days were over. But I couldn’t say that so I gave her the simplest, best response possible.
“You’re welcome.”
I wondered if she had also forgiven me for the death of her mother, but I wasn’t about to go there. Loor looked out toward the water. The Bedoowan palace was a giant wreck that barely poked above the surface. Small waves lapped over it and a few seagulls explored its walls. In time the sea would eat away the stone and this mighty symbol of Bedoowan power would turn to sand. But right now it served as a reminder of the fall of the mighty Bedoowan. It was a perfect monument to their destruction.
“Do you think many Bedoowan died?” asked Loor.
“I don’t know,” was my answer. “I think most of them left to watch the battle. They’re going to get a big surprise when they go back home though.”
“It is sad,” Loor said.
She was right. The Bedoowan were a pretty advanced culture for this place. They could have used their knowledge to improve all of Denduron, but instead they chose to use their power and knowledge to enslave others. The truth was, none of this would have happened if the Bedoowan hadn’t abused the Milago. Saint Dane may have pushed it along, but the Bedoowan were already on the path. They had brought this on themselves.
“What of the tak mine?” Loor asked.
“It was a hell of a show,” I said. “I’ll bet that every ounce of tak was blown away. I don’t think we have to worry about the Milago using it anymore.”
Loor then turned and looked me right in the eye. “If the explosion did this to the palace,” she said soberly, “then what of the Milago village?”
That was a good question. My thoughts went immediately to Uncle Press and to Alder. Had they survived? I looked up toward the towering bluffs.
“We’ve got to climb up,” I said, not really wanting to.
We walked to the bluffs and searched for the best way up. This was going to be tough. It was steep and treacherous.
“I can climb rock,” suggested Loor. “I will braid a rope with vines and we will tie ourselves together for safety. It will be dangerous, but we can make it.”
“That sounds good,” I said while slowly scanning the bluffs. “Or we could take that path over there.”
Loor looked to the path I was pointing to. It was narrow and there were dozens of switchbacks because it was so steep, but it was definitely a path.
“Oh,” said Loor. “That could work too.”
“C’mon,” I said with a smile, and started for the path. Loor followed silently.
The hike up wasn’t horrible. The switchbacks kept the path from getting too steep, but made the trek very long. We didn’t talk much as we climbed. I can’t speak for Loor, but the closer we got to the top, the more I dreaded what we might find. The last we saw of the Bedoowan and the Milago they were headed for battle. Was the fight over? Did one tribe win? Or would we arrive at the summit to find the tak explosion had created a burned out hole that looked like the bottom of a volcano? I tried to put the worst of those thoughts out of my mind. We would learn the truth soon enough.
When we were nearly on the top, I stopped and looked at Loor. I felt that she was just as worried about what we would find as I was. Neither of us said it, but we both wanted to wait one more second before having to deal with whatever horror was waiting there. After a few moments Loor took a deep breath and nodded. I nodded in agreement and the two of us climbed the last few yards to the summit of the bluffs.
What we saw on top was nothing like I had imagined. First off, it looked as if the surface had remained relatively intact after the tak explosion. There was no gaping volcano-like hole. That was good. Maybe the mine vents channeled away most of the power of the tak explosion after all.
But still, things had changed. It looked as if all the violent action from the explosion took place underground, and the result on the surface was like a huge earthquake had hit. What had once been relatively flat land now looked like a roller coaster of mounds and depressions. The large, flat battlefield of sea grass where the Milago and the Bedoowan fought had been torn apart. Huge boulders had forced their way up from underground and gaping holes had opened up elsewhere. The tak explosion had dramatically torn the terrain apart, changing it forever.
“We should get to the Milago village,” I said.
The two of us walked cautiously back the way we knew would bring us to the village as quickly as possible. Though the terrain had become a tumultuous mess, there was something else that stood out even more dramatically. It was the people. There were hundreds of people wandering around in a daze. As we walked toward the village we saw Bedoowans and Novans and knights and miners. They all seemed to drift about in the same stunned haze. No one cared that they were among the enemy, either. Knights and miners passed each other without so much as a second glance. No one spoke, no one fought, no one was afraid. Everyone was just…stunned.
There were bodies, too. I didn’t know if they were the victims of the tak explosion or the battle. They were being carried off the battlefield and laid next to each other. It didn’t matter if they were Bedoowan or Milago, they were laid side by side. As horrible as this was, I had feared there would be way more bodies than this. Between the battle and the tak explosion, I expected everyone to be wiped out. But it now seemed as though most everyone survived. Only a few unlucky victims lay next to each other beside the battlefield.
Loor and I watched this strange scene silently as we made our way toward the village. We looked for the path that would lead us through the woods, but the path was gone. Most of the woods were gone too. Hundreds of trees had fallen and were piled up like pickup sticks. Fi
nding our way through this maze of trees was tricky.
Then I saw something that made me stop and stare. An injured miner was sitting near the stump of a fallen tree. His head was bleeding and he had to lean against the stump for support. A woman knelt beside him, tending to his wounds. She had a bucket of water and some rags. She dipped the cloth into the water and gently dabbed at the miner’s wound to clean it. She wasn’t rough, she wasn’t in a hurry. Her actions looked like a mother taking care of her child. Given all that had happened you wouldn’t think this scene was out of the ordinary, but it was. That’s because the woman taking care of the Milago miner was a Bedoowan.
“I do not understand,” said Loor. “They are enemies.”
“Maybe they found a common enemy,” was my reply.
We picked our way through the toppled forest and found the Milago village. The place was a mess. Many huts were still standing, but most of them were badly damaged. Some were nothing more than a pile of rubble. The path that led through the village was now a mass of ruts, rocks, and rubble. I looked to the center of the village and to the platform where the Transfer ceremonies took place. It was destroyed. The large stone foundation was still there, but it was now scorched black. The platform was gone. I was about to suggest we look for Alder and Uncle Press when we heard a familiar voice.
The Merchant of Death Page 34
