Raven Rise (31 page)

“Can you ride?” Alder asked.

“Can you keep up with me?” I answered.

I grabbed what looked like a leather saddlebag. I still had the rest of the tak brick I'd used to blast open Alder's cell. No way I could hold it while I rode, but I didn't want to give it up. It was the only weapon we had. I quickly but gingerly slipped the chunk of explosive into the bag and tied it to the saddle of a deep brown horse. Alder was already up on his own horse, ready to go.

“Hurry, Pendragon,” he said calmly. Alder didn't know how to panic.

“Right behind you.”

Alder kicked his ride. The animal responded and bolted for the door. I did the same, clutching my legs so hard I was sure I'd crack ribs. Alder blasted out the door just as the Bedoowan knights arrived. I don't think they were expecting to face two charging horses, because they scattered in surprise, jumping out of the way to avoid being trampled. I didn't know where to go. Alder did. I stayed focused on the butt of his horse, urging my own to stay close. Clods of dirt and gravel were kicked up by Alder's animal. I didn't care. I didn't care if my horse cared. We weren't about to stop. I cringed, expecting to get hit with an arrow from behind. Alder smartly rounded a hut to put a barrier between us and the knights, then galloped on a course directly away from them.

Turned out it wasn't the knights from the stable that we had to worry about.

Alder's horse was faster than mine. Or maybe it was because Alder was a better rider than I was. As we broke into the open, he quickly pulled way ahead. In no time there was a gap of about twenty yards between us. Another patrol of knights appeared far off to our left. They were too far away to do anything but shoot arrows, but that was enough. A wave of missiles flew in front of me like the swarm of quig-bees from Ibara. Most missed. One didn't. Alder's horse took an arrow square in its left flank. The animal whinnied and reared up. Alder wasn't ready for that. He rolled backward, falling off the horse and landing square on his back. Alder's horse wasn't hurt badly, because it continued to run. The animal would be fine. I wasn't so sure about Alder.

I shot a look to see the group of knights about fifty yards away and closing. They weren't moving all that fast—they were busy fumbling to reload their bows. It wouldn't be long before another round of arrows would be incoming. I hadn't slowed down. In seconds I would be next to Alder. What would I do? I was an okay rider, but I wasn't a circus guy. It wasn't like I could lean down and swoop him up off the ground at a full gallop. I only had a few seconds to make a decision. I had no idea what to do.

Alder solved the problem. When he hit the ground he never stopped moving. He did a complete backward somersault and landed on his feet. It wasn't like he jumped up with a “Ta da!” or anything. He was shaken and looked pretty wobbly. His balance was obviously off as he struggled to stand straight. But he was aware of everything that was swirling around him. I knew it the instant he glanced over his shoulder, looking for me. He knew where he was. He knew where I was. He needed a ride.

I slowed my horse, not sure how to get Alder on board. Again Alder took care of it. He was a knight. A soldier. He knew horses. He grabbed the back of my saddle and vaulted onto the rear of my horse.

“Go” was all he said.

I kicked my horse and launched back into a gallop…as another wave of arrows arrived. The knights' timing was off. They were aiming at where we were, not thinking we'd be moving so fast, so quickly. The missiles flew behind us. None came close. We were gone.

“Head for those trees,” Alder said, pointing to a stand of pine trees far ahead. We weren't moving as fast as before. Two riders on one horse tends to slow things down. Didn't matter. We weren't being chased. I maneuvered the strong horse into the trees, but kept moving forward, trying to get as much distance between us and the Milago village as possible.

“You okay?” I asked Alder.

“I have been thrown worse than that” was his understated answer.

The guy was amazing. Nothing got to him. He could be hit by a bus and he'd shrug it off as if it were a tricycle. That is, if there were buses on Denduron. Or tricycles. Whatever. I was glad we were together. I knew that no matter how the final moves of the battle with Saint Dane would play out, Alder would be by my side. And why not? He didn't need to be on Denduron anymore.

Neither did I. Denduron was lost. A victory had turned into defeat. What we needed to know was, what other territories were in danger of turning. Zadaa? Eelong? Everything we had done was thrown into doubt because of Saint Dane's Convergence.

As we climbed the mountain together on the back of that horse, I realized there was yet another concern. I don't know why it took me so long to get it.

“There are ten territories,” I said to Alder. “Until today we stopped Saint Dane on six of them. Veelox was a loss, but by winning Ibara, I thought it had become a victory. The only solid loss was Quillan…until now.”

“Now they are all in danger of turning,” Alder replied with no emotion.

“That's not all. There are still two territories that haven't been targeted. Second and Third Earth. If territories are defined by their turning point, what's the deal with those two? If Saint Dane's big plan was to create a convergence of territories, why did he skip those two?”

“Perhaps he did not need them,” Alder offered.

“Or maybe he's been waiting until now.”

The thought made my stomach twist. That always seemed to happen when reality paid a visit. Especially if it was bad, which was often. All I knew about events on Second Earth had to do with the change in technology that happened because of Forge. Same with Third Earth. As far as I knew, neither had reached a definite turning point. As we spoke, the truth became obvious. Unfortunately.

“It's about Earth,” I announced soberly. “It's always been about Earth.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because everything leads there,” I answered, my mind racing. “Second Earth is where Saint Dane got Mark to invent Forge. First Earth is where the evolution of the dados began. The dados attacked Ibara. We took tak from Denduron to battle the dados, which is why things have gone sour here. Dados are everywhere on Quillan, and they were trying to get to First Earth. They're already on Third Earth, and they're headed back to Ibara. I'm the lead Traveler. I'm from Second Earth. It's like Earth is the hub of a wheel. Everything spreads out from there. All the events that have led to the Convergence began on Earth.”

Alder let that sink in, then asked, “What do you believe that means?”

“I think the turning point of either Second or Third Earth might be the turning point for Halla.”

Alder shook his head. “I do not know, Pendragon. For all that I have seen, the concepts of which you speak are still beyond my grasp.”

“Yeah, I'm not far ahead. I'm reaching here, but I think I know what we should do. We'd be wasting our time by going to any other territories. We've got to go to the source. We've got to see what Saint Dane is doing on Earth.”

“So do we go to Second Earth?”

“No, Third Earth. From there we can use the computers to look back on everything that has happened on Earth. That's where we'll find answers.”

Alder didn't say anything. I wasn't surprised. He was a simple guy from a primitive society. The ideas I was throwing out were completely alien to him. They weren't exactly comfortable to me either, but I had been through a lot more than he had. I hoped he would continue to trust me.

We climbed silently for several minutes. The horse was strong. Once we entered the snowfield, the animal barely slowed as it trudged across the icy expanse. Finally, after rolling our dilemma over in his head for the better part of our trek, Alder spoke.

“I do not know if your theory is correct, Pendragon, but I do agree with one thing.”

“What's that?”

“We should not look back. The Convergence has begun. I fear that if we revisit any of the other territories, we may not have the power to change events. Even if we did, what would prevent Saint Dane from manipulating events yet again to create other turning points?”

He was exactly right. It was the reality that had been eating at my stomach since I discovered that Ibara was the future of Veelox. Saint Dane was in control. More than I had ever imagined. He seemed to have the ability to travel between times at will. We only had the power to chase after him and trust that the flumes would put us in the right time. I didn't know why that was. I didn't know who made up the rules, but it was the truth. We could be chasing Saint Dane between territories from now until forever, and he would always have the ability to change the rules.

“If we are to stop him,” Alder continued, “we have to understand exactly what his goals are. It is the very essence of warfare. The only way to defeat an enemy is to understand what he wants. Until we do that, we have no hope of victory. We need to learn why we have been fighting this battle.”

Alder may have been a simple guy. He may have not understood modern concepts or technology, but with those few words he had defined our mission perfectly. We had to stop thinking small. This wasn't about a single territory, or even about ten individual territories. This was about Halla. This was about flumes. About Travelers. About Saint Dane's ability to change shape. It was about the Travelers being able to heal one another. It was about our being illusions. About traveling through time. It was about Saint Dane saying that he wanted to prove his superiority. We needed to know who he was proving it to. We had to learn it all.

“You're right,” I declared. “I think we have the best chance of doing that on Third Earth.”

“Then Third Earth is where we will go.”

We heard a distant rumble. The horse stopped, spooked.

“Thunder?” I asked.

More rumbles followed. I looked back at Alder. His eyes were sharp. His hearing focused.

“No,” he answered somberly. “The battle has begun. The Bedoowan have used tak against their brothers. Denduron is lost.”

What we were listening to was the sounds of war. There was no way we could change things for the better on Denduron. Those distant explosions proved it.

“Are we that close to the Lowsee village?” I asked.

“No. It is well beyond the far side of this mountain. That will tell you how devastating the tak is. Right now, people are dying.”

“So is Denduron.”

We listened to the explosions. The power was incredible. The snow beneath us shook. More explosions echoed over the mountains. The snow shook again. And again. Something was wrong. The sound of the explosions and the shaking beneath us weren't coinciding. There was something else happening.

“Earthquake?” I asked, jittery.

Alder didn't know. We heard more explosions.

We weren't the only ones who heard them.

The snow continued to rumble and shift. I realized the real reason for all the shaking a split second before it all came apart. Thirty yards in front of us, the snow started to boil. I saw the surface crack and crumble. A few yards beyond that, more snow shifted. Another area began to roil. It wasn't the whole surface of the snowfield; it was only in specific areas. Areas where things were buried. Things that were awakened by the sound of exploding tak. An area of snow erupted like an ice-filled volcano, sending sparkling shards into the air. Through the cloud of snow that blew into the sky, I saw the cause.

The quigs were awake.

(CONTINUED)

A
ll around us the vicious bears that had been hibernating under the snow were coming to life. We were nowhere near the gate to the flume. There was nothing around us for protection. We were in the middle of a pack of quigs, who weren't happy about having been rudely awakened from their slumber.

As the first quig rose up out of the snow, our horse panicked and reared.

“Whoa, whoa!” I shouted, as if that would do any good. The poor horse was terrified. I didn't blame him. All around us, quigs erupted from below. It was all I could do to stay on the horse and control it. Control? Not exactly. It was more like desperately holding on to the reins to keep from falling off. Alder had nothing to hold on to but me. The horse brought its front legs back down and turned to run, only to be faced by another quig that had appeared behind us. I pulled with every bit of strength I had, just to keep the horse from bolting.

“Take the reins!” I shouted to Alder.

He reached around me and grabbed on to the leather straps.

“I have it,” he shouted.

I ducked under Alder's outstretched arms and dove off the animal.

“Pendragon?” Alder yelled with surprise.

“Keep it still,” I ordered.

I knew we had only one chance. If the horse took off, we'd have no chance. Alder wrestled with the animal, who was spinning and bucking like a wild mustang. Its eyes flared. It must have seen what I saw: The closest quig had zeroed in on us. If it's possible for an animal to look angry, this beastie was there.

“Get up here!” Alder commanded.

I ignored him. There was no way we could outrun a charging quig on that horse. We had to make a stand.

“Keep it still!” I shouted again.

Alder struggled to keep the horse in place. The horse was winning. That didn't stop Alder from trying. He tugged on the reins, forcing the horse's head down. He would only be able to keep it still for a little while longer. I hoped it would be enough.

The quig huffed and stalked toward us. Stalking was good. Better than charging. If the quig ran to attack, we'd have been done, because I wasn't ready yet. The other quigs circled behind it. I guess there's some kind of honor among quigs. Closest to the prize gets the first nibble. Unlike the quig I had fought in the flume cave, this guy was big. Bigger than any quig I'd ever seen. It was like the T. rex of quigs. Maybe that was why the others let it have first dibs on the prey.

“Pendragon?” Alder called again, his voice cracking, which for him was the same as a totally panicked breakdown.

“It's okay. Let him come,” I said.

“I do not believe I have a choice.”

“We need him closer.”

“Any closer and I will feel its breath.”

The horse bucked, hit my shoulder, and knocked me back. I stumbled, but didn't fall. There was no time for that. I quickly leaped back at the horse, grabbing for the leather bag that was attached to the saddle. The bag with the tak brick. The horse was between me and the advancing quig.

“I'm only going to get one shot, maybe two,” I said. “When I say so, rear up.”

“If I can.”

“You have to,” I said firmly.

I pulled out the small brick of tak and tore it in two. Putting one half under my arm, I formed the other half like a snowball. I quickly shifted hands and formed the other tak ball.

The quig roared and stood up on its hind legs. It was getting ready for the kill.

“Pendragon?” Alder called again nervously.

“Not yet,” I cautioned.

The quig's eyes flashed yellow. Hunger was all that mattered to him. As soon as its front paws landed back on the snow, it charged. It had decided that we posed no threat. He was wrong.

“Now!” I shouted.

Alder pulled back on the reins with a grunt. The horse whinnied and reared up, lifting its front hooves into the sky, giving me a clear shot. The quig was maybe fifteen yards away and closing fast. I heaved the tak ball sidearm, for fear I might hit the horse. The ball flew square at the quig's head…and exploded on contact.

I was blown off my feet. It was like being hit with a wall of hot bricks. I landed hard on the snow. The horse landed right next to me. The only thought I had was to protect the second tak ball. If that was slammed too hard, there would be a second explosion. Closer than the first. Too close. I cradled it next to my stomach as if it were a precious egg. Or a high explosive. I didn't know where Alder was. I couldn't hear anything except the ringing in my ears from the explosion. It started to rain, only the rain was traveling sideways. And it was too cold to rain. I soon realized the truth. I was being pelted by wet bits of quig. Chunks of flesh and fur and blood flew everywhere. A hunk of bone flew past. A tooth skidded across the snow. If I hadn't been so dazed, I probably would have retched. Through the smoke and snow and flying gore, I saw Alder lying a few yards from me. I scrambled over quickly and rolled him onto his back.

His eyes were open, but unfocused.

“Hey!” I shouted, shaking his head.

Alder blinked, coughed, and met my gaze.

“I believe the correct word is…‘wow,'” he said with wide eyes.

I had to laugh. Nothing bothered this guy.

We weren't out of danger. There were other quigs lurking around. I looked back to where I had hit the lead quig and saw exactly what I'd hoped to see. There was nothing left of the quig but a huge chunk of blood and bone. I made out a couple of furry masses that were probably paws. The rest was scattered across the snow. The red snow. More important, the other quigs took the bait. Or the lunch. They didn't care about us anymore. There were good eats to be had. They climbed over one another to get a piece of their exploded pal. One would grab on to a piece of flesh and pull away, only to have another quig bite the same piece and wrestle for the prize. Yeah, disgusting.

I hate quigs.

The horse was long gone. The trail of hoof prints in the snow showed that he had decided not to make the rest of the trip with us and had run for home. I guess he'd had his fill of being a Traveler.

“We have to go the rest of the way on foot,” I said. “Can you walk?”

Alder's answer was to stagger to his feet. The guy stood up tall over me. He had to be at least six-four. He was a heck of a sight, standing there in his blood-spattered leathers.

“I am looking forward to being somewhere else.”

The two of us staggered away from the carnage, headed for the top of the mountain and the flume. It took another half hour of trudging through the snow until we saw the rocky cave. I'm happy to say that there were no quig spines poking out from the snow. They were off having a bite to eat. We were nearly at the cave when Alder put his hand out to stop me.

“Look,” he said.

Bright light flared from inside the cave. We both knew that meant only one thing. We sprinted the last few yards and ran inside in time to see the light disappearing into the depths of the flume, along with the musical notes. Between us and the tunnel was the white skeleton of a quig. Two of the dado weapons I had used to kill it were still jutting out from the bones, right where I'd left them. The quig looked as if he had been picked clean by his pals. Gross. But the quig skeleton isn't what held our attention. Alder and I stood staring at something beyond. Something in the flume. On the rocky bottom, just inside the mouth, was a body. We stood stock still, waiting for the guy to move. He didn't.

“He may be dead,” Alder said.

The body groaned. He wasn't dead. But he looked hurt. We ran for him. I got there first and rolled the guy over.

“Patrick!” I shouted.

“Who?”

“The Traveler from Third Earth.”

My hand was under his back. I felt something I didn't like and quickly pulled my hand back to see it was covered with blood. Fresh blood. Patrick's blood. Alder and I exchanged looks. We knew what to do. We both put our hands on the Traveler. I slid my bloody hand under his back, to where I thought the wound was, and held my other hand over his heart. Alder rested both his hands on Patrick's chest. I didn't know the exact procedure, other than to concentrate on willing Patrick to heal. Alder's eyes were closed. I closed mine as well. I thought of Patrick the way he was on Third Earth. Smart, quick, and maybe a little neurotic. I pictured his face and the way he moved. I tried to imagine his voice.

My hands felt warm. Both of them. It wasn't painful or anything. It was a strange feeling, but also kind of comforting. We were Travelers. All three of us. We were brothers. We were part of something bigger that we had yet to uncover. Of all the things that were still unknown, still a mystery, still maddeningly elusive, there was one thing that I had total confidence in.

We could save one another.

The warm feeling became a tingle that spread up my arms and through my body. I opened my eyes and stole a look at Alder to see a small smile on his face. He was feeling the same thing. The event lasted only a few seconds. I looked down at our Traveler friend.

“Patrick?” I said softly. “You there?”

Patrick's eyelids fluttered. He gasped, as if refilling his lungs with air. Slowly his eyes opened. He glanced around in confusion until he focused on me.

“Pendragon?” he croaked.

“Do you know where you are?” I asked.

“Denduron?”

I nodded. “Why did you come here, Patrick? What happened?”

“I…I was shot,” he gasped. He hadn't fully focused. He was still trying to get his bearings.

“By who? Who shot you?”

“People who worked for the Traveler,” was his strange answer.

I looked to Alder. Alder scowled.

“What Traveler?” I asked quickly.

Patrick grasped my hand and whispered, “The new Traveler from Second Earth.”

I was rocked back on my heels. Nothing could have prepared me for that. In three seconds my mind raced to a million possibilities and a million dead ends.

“Pendragon?” Alder said calmly.

I looked to him, hoping he had an answer. He did. He may not have known what was happening, or what the news from Patrick meant, but he knew exactly what had to be done.

“I believe we are no longer going to Third Earth,” he declared.

“No, we're not,” I said, getting my wits back. “I'm going home.”

END OF JOURNAL
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