The Merchant of Death

by D. J. MacHale

  “Loor! Pendragon!”

  It was Alder. He was alive! The big bumbling knight came bounding toward us like a happy puppy. In his excitement he tripped over a rock and stumbled, and we caught him before he did a complete face plant. The catch turned into a hug for all of us.

  “I feared you were dead!” he exclaimed. “How did you escape from the palace?”

  “Long story,” I answered. “What happened up here?”

  “It was unbelievable!” he shouted. The guy was totally charged. “There was a battle. The Milago tried to defeat the Bedoowan with tak, but the tak ran out so the Milago charged and the two sides clashed and…and…that’s when it happened!”

  “What?” asked Loor, though she had a good idea what the answer was.

  “The ground came to life!” he shouted. “The earth began to move like the sea! The Milago and the Bedoowan stopped fighting and turned to run, but there was nowhere to go! Trees began to topple and huts fell and the sound…the sound was like thunder under the ground. And then came the fire—”

  He pointed at the charred remains of the platform in the center of the village. “Giant pillars of fire shot from the openings to the mines! The flames were like water geysers that shot high into the sky. And then…it was over.”

  Alder fell silent, letting us get our heads around all that he had said. After a moment he asked, “And where were you when this all happened?”

  I looked to Loor and she gave me a shrug. That meant she wanted me to answer.

  “Well,” I said. “We blew up the tak mine. I think that might have had a little something to do with all the excitement.”

  Alder stared at us with his mouth open in disbelief. He was having trouble processing the information.

  “Close your mouth,” I said. “Where’s Uncle Press?”

  “Uhhh, Press,” he said, snapping back to reality. “Right. Follow me.”

  Alder stumbled off and led us through the remains of the Milago village. As we approached a hut that was still fairly intact, Alder gave us the “shh” signal. Whatever we were going to see, he didn’t want us to be disruptive. He stayed close to the wall and peered around the corner. Loor and I joined him and looked around the corner as well.

  Several yards ahead was the hut that had once been Rellin’s. I remembered it because I had been there when he asked me to go back home and get more batteries. But the walls of the hut were gone. It was bizarre. There were people inside who acted as if they were in the hut, but they were really outside and…well, you get the picture. There were three people who looked to be having a heart-to-heart meeting. I’m thrilled to say that one of them was Uncle Press. He was alive and looking fine. I wanted to shout to him, but I realized he was in the middle of something heavy, so I bit my tongue.

  The second person I saw was Rellin. He looked like he had been through a war, which, in fact, he had. His leather clothes were in shreds and his bandaged arm was caked with dried blood, but he was alive. It was the third person in the hut that was the shocker.

  It was Queen Kagan. The woman sat on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, crying. I swear, she was crying like a two-year-old. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it looked as if Rellin was speaking to her softly, like a father might speak to a sad child. Uncle Press wasn’t saying anything. My guess was that he was there to act as a neutral peacemaker.

  It was then that Uncle Press saw us and broke out in a big grin. He excused himself and ran to us. He threw his arms around me like a big old bear and laughed like it was Christmas. I think he was even crying a little. To be honest, it made me laugh and cry a little bit too. How’s that for a couple of tough-ass Travelers to behave? He pulled us back around to the other side of the hut so we wouldn’t disturb Rellin and Queen Kagan, then threw his arm around Loor as well. I hadn’t seen Uncle Press act like that in forever. For the first time since this adventure began, he was my old Uncle Press again. It was good to have him back. He then pulled away and gave us both a good hard look.

  “What?” I finally said.

  “Was it you?” he asked. “I mean, all this?” He motioned around to the destruction of the Milago village and I knew exactly what he meant. I looked to Loor. She shrugged, which was becoming our signal that she wanted me to do the talking.

  “Well,” I said. “Yeah.”

  Uncle Press burst out laughing. “I told you to get rid of the bomb, not set it off underground!”

  “We didn’t,” I said, and gave him a quick rundown as to what happened from the time he left us in the Bedoowan stadium. Though everything I told him was the absolute truth, I have to admit that it sounded pretty fantastic. I think the most amazing fact of all was that all of this destruction started when I threw down a pea-sized marble of tak. Talk about knocking over the first domino. Wow.

  Uncle Press listened closely. So did Alder. I didn’t think it was possible, but I believe that the story of our adventure in the tak mine shocked my uncle. I knew it stunned Alder; he still couldn’t close his mouth.

  “What about Saint Dane?” Uncle Press asked.

  “Gone,” I answered. “He jumped into the flume. We would have followed him except he sent back this giant monster shark to stop us. It worked.”

  “Monster shark? That means he’s on Cloral,” said Uncle Press thoughtfully.

  “Exactly!” I exclaimed. “How did you know?”

  “Because the quigs on Cloral are giant monster sharks,” was his simple answer.

  Of course! I should have known! Quigs on Second Earth are monster dogs, quigs on Denduron are monster bears, and quigs on Cloral are monster sharks. It was so simple. Everybody knew that. Mental note to self: Stay away from Cloral.

  “What’s going on over there?” I asked, referring to the meeting with Queen Kagan and Rellin. I was tired of thinking about quigs, no matter what form they took.

  We all looked back around the corner to see the two leaders were still in deep conversation.

  “You’re looking at two people who are very frightened,” Uncle Press said. “They both got a glimpse of the apocalypse. Rellin came close to losing every last one of the Milago and Queen Kagan saw her palace fall into the sea. There’s nothing left of their worlds, except for their people.”

  “What are they talking about?” asked Loor.

  “A lot of things,” answered Uncle Press. “But the bottom line is, they’re talking about how to survive, together.”

  A few hours ago the idea of the Milago and the Bedoowan living together in cooperation was a joke. They had centuries of baggage to deal with. That kind of thing doesn’t go away in an afternoon. But then I thought back to the Milago miner who was being cared for by the Bedoowan woman. They were still people, after all. And since the palace had been destroyed, they were pretty much in the same dire situation. Their best chance of survival was to help each other. It seemed like a lot to ask of mortal enemies, but I guess a cataclysmic event that nearly destroys every living thing in sight will make you rethink your priorities.

  “They have a lot to offer each other,” added Uncle Press. “The Bedoowan have an advanced knowledge of engineering and chemistry that can help bring the Milago out of the stone age. The Milago are farmers and builders. Now they can finally get something back for their hard work.”

  “What about the mines?” asked Alder.

  “The mines are gone,” answered Uncle Press. “When the tak blew, the mines collapsed. It would take decades to get back to where they were. It’s not worth it. The Milago are out of the mining business…for good.”

  “That means no more glaze,” I added.

  “Yeah, no more glaze,” said Uncle Press. “The Bedoowan used glaze to trade with other tribes. Now they’ll have to be more self-sufficient.”

  “How do the Novans fit into all this?” I asked.

  “They can go back to their own tribe,” said Uncle Press. “Or they can stay and help rebuild. It’s their choice, but I think they’ll stay.”

  “
What if the Milago try to use tak again?” asked Alder. “That is what Saint Dane wanted, is it not?”

  “Thereis no more tak,” I said with authority. “Rellin couldn’t get his hands on any even if he wanted to.”

  “Rellin is a good man,” Uncle Press said sharply. “But he was blinded by his concern for his people. Now he can channel that energy into something more constructive. He’s going to be a great leader. But he’s going to have his hands full with Queen Kagan. She’s a piece of work.”

  As if he knew we were talking about him, Rellin looked up to us. We made eye contact and Rellin smiled. That one little smile spoke volumes. He had been humbled, and though he looked tired, he also seemed to be at peace. There was a huge task in front of him, but he was the right man for the job.

  “There are no guarantees,” said Uncle Press. “These people have to work through centuries of hatred and mistrust. But at least now they’ve got a shot at building a society that can benefit everyone. It’s not often that you get a second chance.”

  As I looked around the ruined Milago village it was hard to comprehend that the best thing that could have happened to these people was the near-destruction of their world. But maybe Uncle Press was right. Maybe the only way they could change was to clean the slate and start over. They were certainly going to get that chance. I truly hoped that they’d make the most of it.

  “I’m hungry!” announced Uncle Press. “Loor, could you and Alder head over to the hospital hut? They’ve set up an emergency supply station there.”

  Alder and Loor quickly left us to search for some food. But I don’t think Uncle Press was really interested in eating. I think he wanted to talk to me alone.

  “Let’s walk,” he said. The two of us left Queen Kagan and Rellin to their discussion and walked through the Milago village.

  “How do you feel, Bobby?” he asked me.

  Now there was a simple question that didn’t have a simple answer. How did I feel? I felt a million different ways. I felt tired. I felt sore from my escape with Loor and our plummet into the sea. I felt proud of myself for having kept my head on straight when things were crashing down around me.

  I felt as if I learned a few things. I learned that it’s sometimes okay to think like a weenie, so long as you don’tact like one—at least not all the time. I learned that it’s okay to be wrong, as long as you can admit it and are willing to listen to those who may know better.

  I also felt sad. Sad for Osa, Loor’s wonderful mother. She was someone I wish I had gotten to know better. And I felt sad for Loor, who lost her. I also felt sad for the others who lost their lives here as well. There was so much I had seen over these few days and not all of it was good. I saw the horrible way that people could treat each other. That may be the saddest thing of all. I saw greed and anger and murder and a total lack of concern for human life. It was the wicked side of the human soul that I saw here on Denduron and it saddened me to know that such a dark place existed.

  How did I feel? I was frightened of Saint Dane. Not because I thought he would come after me or anything, but scared of what one man was capable of. He used his evil influence to manipulate people into doing horrible deeds. His power nearly brought about the destruction of an entire world. I feared that he might try again elsewhere and hoped that by stopping him here, his plan would go no further. But what I was mostly scared of, was being a Traveler. I didn’t want the responsibility. I mean, I’m just a kid. If there is something that truly scares me, it’s my own future.

  How did I feel? I also felt a little glad. I was glad that the people of Denduron were going to get a second chance. I was proud of Uncle Press. I wasn’t entirely sure of what his deal was, but he cared enough to help bring about the resurrection of a society headed for ruin. I was also glad that I met the people I did. Alder had a good heart and I’ll always remember him as a friend. Rellin may have been misguided, but what he did he did for the good of his people and I respected that. Now he has the chance to help them in a more positive way. I’m glad that I met Osa. I don’t think I will ever forget her calm wisdom and I hope that some of it rubbed off on me. I was glad that I had good friends like you two, Mark and Courtney. You helped me when I needed it most and I will forever be in your debt.

  But I think I was mostly glad that I met Loor. She was fiercely loyal and willing to put her life on the line for what she believed. She was brave and caring and smart and beautiful as all hell. But beyond that, there was something about Loor for which I couldn’t even begin to thank her. When this adventure fades in my memory, and it will, I will still be grateful to her for having pushed me to think outside of my own little world, and recognize my own strength.

  So how did I feel? It was a complex question, but I had a simple answer.

  “Uncle Press,” I said, “I feel like I want to go home.”

  He was about to argue with me, but I cut him off.

  “No,” I said. “When you asked me to come with you, you said there were people who needed our help. I did everything you asked me to do. Now I want to go home.”

  He didn’t even try to argue. How could he? “Okay, Bobby,” he said warmly. “You’re right. I am more proud of you than I can begin to say. Tomorrow, I’ll take you home.”

  Now,that’s what I wanted to hear! And that’s what brought me to the place where I am right now, writing my final journal. We’re spending the night in the hospital hut. Tomorrow we’re going to make the long trek back up the mountain to the flume. Unfortunately the gate that was in the mines is now buried under a million tons of rock. Uncle Press assures me that the climb won’t be hard. We will borrow some horses from the Bedoowan and take along a few whistles in case we run into any rogue quigs.

  Alder and Loor are with me and they, too, are writing their journals. Alder filled me in on all that had happened during the battle, so that is how I know. I’m not going to send this journal to you through the ring. My plan is to hand it to you guys myself. I’m looking forward to seeing the expressions on your faces when I show up.

  I’m also looking forward to seeing my family again. I’m not sure what to tell them, but I’ll figure something out. I wonder if Marley misses me as much as I miss her?

  Well guys, this is the last time I’m going to be writing to you. Thank you for reading. Thank you for being my friends. Tomorrow I’m going to leave Denduron for the final time. I can’t wait to get home.

  END OF JOURNAL #4.

  Second Earth

  Mark finished reading the pages before Courtney did,but didn’t move until she looked up. They both looked at Bobby, who was lying on Mark’s bed. They wanted to talk to him, but they wouldn’t dare wake him up because he needed the rest. It was a strange feeling. This was their friend. They had known each other since they were little. Things were different now. Yes, this was still Bobby, but he wasn’t the same Bobby who had kissed Courtney only a few days before. Could things go back to the way they were?

  “I’m awake,” Bobby said softly.

  Mark and Courtney jumped up and went to him. Courtney sat on the edge of the bed. Mark paced.

  “So I guess you got back to the flume on the mountain okay,” said Courtney.

  Bobby sat up, but it was a struggle. Obviously he was sore. Not hurt, just sore.

  “Yeah, we got some Bedoowan horses and they took us most of the way.”

  “What about the quigs?” asked Mark.

  “They didn’t show, but I think that was because of the nasty ice storm.” He pointed to the small cuts on his face. “The wind was blowing hard. It was like being cut by flying needles. Basically, it sucked. Sorry if I messed up your pillows.”

  “It’s cool,” said Mark. He meant it too.

  “Who came back with you?” asked Courtney. “Uncle Press?”

  “Yeah,” answered Bobby. “But you know something weird? When we got to that subway station, his motorcycle was waiting for us right where he left it. The helmets, too. How strange is that?”

  It was
strange indeed, because when Mark and Courtney went to that station the motorcycle wasn’t there. Someone must have been keeping it, waiting for Press’s return.

  Mark said, “Yeah, that’s strange.” He held up Bobby’s last journal and added, “But you want to talk about strange?”

  They all stared at the parchment pages, then burst out laughing. Mark was right. Compared to what Bobby had done on Denduron, a motorcycle mysteriously disappearing and reappearing was pretty low on the “strange” scale.

  It felt good for Bobby to laugh and to be with his friends, yet he had the same awkward feeling that bothered both Courtney and Mark. A lot had happened. He was a different guy. Could he go back and pick up his life where he left off?