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Authors: D.J. MacHale

BOOK: The Pilgrims of Rayne
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Loque was halfway along the base of this massive wall. My confidence grew with each step he took. The Flighters were gone. They were looking for us elsewhere. Or maybe they'd lost interest and sank back into whatever rat hole they came from. I didn't care. All that mattered was that we had dodged a pretty huge bullet. But we weren't safe. We still had to find our way back to the ship and decide what to do from there.

Loque stood about eighty yards away from us. He looked so tiny beneath that gigantic wall. He stood up, took one more look around, then waved to us. All was clear. He wanted us to follow. I looked to Siry. He was already getting to his feet. I stood to follow…and saw something that made me freeze.

“Wait,” I whispered harshly.

Siry stopped. I stood and looked at the giant mosaic. It
may have been a wall, but it was still made of glass. I could see through it. Something was moving outside the building. Something big. It was impossible to tell exactly what it was, because the colored pieces of glass camouflaged things pretty well. It moved slowly from left to right. Whatever it was, it was solid. I didn't see any natural movements. I pointed to it, trying to get Loque to take a look, but he wasn't watching me. I didn't want to chance screaming at him. It might have been nothing, and I didn't want to risk giving ourselves away.

The sun grew brighter. The detail of the strange shadow became clear. The object was taller than Loque. I made out a slender, horizontal streak that seemed to float in the air. It was a silver streak that might have been mounted on something vertical. The horizontal line pivoted, making the sun reflect off its surface. That's all I needed to see. In one horrifying instant, I knew what it was.

“Get away!” I shouted to Loque, running to the center of the cathedral. I no longer cared about getting caught. “Get away from the window!” I waved my arms frantically, trying to get Loque out of there.

Loque motioned with both palms down, as if to say, “Calm down. Be quiet.” He even made a “shush” gesture with a finger to his lips.

There was no way I'd calm down or be quiet. Siry ran up beside me and tried to grab my arm to stop me.

“Stop!” he whispered urgently.

I didn't listen. “Run this way! Now!” I screamed at Loque.

Loque glanced around in confusion. He had no idea why I was going off like that. He slowly started walking toward me. Too slowly.

“What's the matter?” he called. “They're gone.”

“No, they're not!” I yelled. “They're outside and they've got a—”

Boom!
A shot was fired. I'd heard the sound before. It was one of the cannons from the military boat, like the one that fired on our ship. The Flighters weren't gone. They knew we were in that cathedral.

They wanted to make it our tomb.

A split second after the gun fired, the giant stained-glass window exploded into a million brilliant flashes of light. It would have been a spectacular sight, if it hadn't been so horrifying. It was like standing inside an exploding firework skyrocket. Tiny bits of glass whizzed past us. But we weren't the ones in danger. Tons of sharp glass shards rained straight down, directly on Loque.

“No!” shouted Siry. As if that would do any good.

I had the presence of mind to stop running, grab Siry, and pull him back. We weren't totally safe from flying glass. Siry was too stunned to resist. I pulled him away as quickly as I could and shoved him back into the small room where we had been hiding. Once inside, we both turned to look back.

It was a wondrous, magical, horrifying sight. At the sound of the explosion, Loque had stopped in surprise. Or maybe curiosity. It was the worst thing he could have done. He looked back as the glass wall exploded over him. He didn't run. He didn't cower. I think the reality of what was happening didn't hit him, and that was a good thing. Siry and I watched as Loque gazed up in wonder at the spectacular, colorful waterfall of glass…that was falling right for him. Seconds later tons of sharp glass hit the blond thief. Siry's best friend. I couldn't watch. I had to bury my eyes in my arm. The sound was enough. It was deafening, like a million shrieking birds. I heard the weight of the fall. It was like
thunder, followed by the constant, sharp sounds of tons of glass shattering on the floor. I felt the sting of a thousand tiny shards that dug into my arm as the storm of glass hit us. I should have ducked behind the wall for protection, but I was too stunned to move. I let it hit me. I wanted to feel the burn.

The sound of crashing glass continued for several seconds before settling down. When I felt safe enough to peek up, the first thing I thought was that somebody had turned on a ton of floodlights in the cathedral. They hadn't. With the stained-glass wall gone, the sunlight wasn't filtered anymore. What once had been an immense wall of color, was now a jagged hole of bright white light. At its base was a pile of broken glass that had to be fifteen feet high. I stared at the sparkling mound. I wanted to see Loque walk away from it. I wanted to see him pull himself out of the mess and jog back toward us. He didn't.

Siry ran out of the room, headed for the pile of glass.

“Loque!” he screamed, anguished.

“No, wait!” I shouted.

Siry would not be denied. All I could do was run after him. He sprinted to the pile, desperately scanning for any sign of his friend.

“We can't stay here,” I pleaded with him. “Look!”

Through the hole, we now saw the gun clearly. It looked exactly like the cannon that was mounted on the bow of the Flighters' gunboat. Surrounding the gun were Flighters. They knew exactly what they were doing. They couldn't find us, so they decided to bury us. The only one they got was Loque.

Siry gasped. He was looking at something on the floor. My gaze followed his, and I saw something that made my knees get weak. It was a sandal. Loque's sandal. Siry went for the pile of glass, as if ready to dig with his bare hands. I had to stop him
or he would have shredded himself.

“We have to go,” I yelled. “Now!”

The Flighters were already gingerly poking around the damage. They were headed our way, probably to find proof that we were finished.

Siry was nearly in tears. He had lost two of his trusted Jakills. Loque was his friend. Probably his best friend. The chances of rescuing Twig were remote, but at least it was a possibility. Not so with Loque. I didn't want to think of what shape he was in under that massive, crushing load of glass. I realized that the sandal might be the only recognizable thing left of the blond thief. I had to shake that image, fast.

“Now, Siry.” I said softly, but with force.

Siry took a shaky breath, looked up at the oncoming Flighters, then turned and ran back the way we had first entered the cathedral. I was right behind him. I had to force the horrifying memories of the past few minutes out of my head. I'll never forget the images of Twig being dragged away and Loque dying under the waterfall of glass. They'll be with me forever. We couldn't let those memories crush us. We could mourn later. We could try and rescue Twig later. But not if the Flighters got to us first. It was about our survival. I hoped Siry was thinking the same way.

I didn't know which was more important: speed or secrecy. The longer we were in that city, the better the chances the Flighters would find us. Getting back to the ship was crucial, but if we weren't careful, we could easily run right into another bunch of those rats. There was no telling where they were. The city suddenly felt like an old house that was infested with termites. You couldn't see them, but you knew they were there. By the thousands. They could have been watching our every move. Siry and I left the cathedral, running back along
the route we had first come through. I hoped the Flighters wouldn't expect that. After dodging through the labyrinth of rooms, I stopped at the doorway out to the street, on the far side of the building. I didn't want to jump right back into another ambush. We crouched down to rest and make a plan.

“I hope they think we're dead,” I said, gulping air. “It might give us enough time to get back to the ship and shove off.”

Siry's eyes were glassy and vacant, as if he were in shock. “They killed him. They killed my best friend. Why did they have to kill him?”

“I don't know. I don't know anything about them.”

“Was it revenge?” Siry continued as if I hadn't said anything. “All we ever did was protect our home from them. They're the ones who attacked. Not us.”

I grabbed Siry and gave him a rough shake. He focused on me, surprised.

“Stop!” I seethed. “Keep it together. If we stay here, we're dead too.”

“I'm starting not to care,” he said quietly.

“What about the other Jakills?” I snapped. “Do you care about them? They'll come looking for us, you know. Unless we get back to warn them, they'll walk right into the same trap we did.”

My words hit home. Siry focused, fast.

“We should keep close to the buildings,” he said, back in charge. “Less chance of them seeing us.”

“No,” I said quickly. “These buildings are full of Flighters. If we stay close, they'd be on us before we had a chance to react.”

“So what do we do?”

“Run. Fast as we can, right down the middle of the street, as far away from the buildings as possible. That way we can
see them coming.”

“And what if they see
us
coming?”

“They will. But if we're in the middle of the street, we'll have a few seconds to react.”

I could sense the wheels in his head turning, calculating the possibilities. Slowly his head bobbed in agreement, and continued to bob as he got himself psyched up. “One…two…three…GO!” He jumped up and blasted out the doorway.

I was right behind him. Together we sprinted away from the derelict skyscraper, toward the center of the wide street. From there we turned left and kept on running. The large buildings loomed over us as we tore down the center of the street, headed for the ocean. We kept scanning ahead, looking for signs of movement that would say the Flighters had seen us. Every time we passed another pile of rubble, I mentally braced myself for a group of Flighters to leap out and attack.

We were almost to the end of the final block before hitting the wide expanse between the buildings and the pier. My legs burned. I had a stitch in my side. I had trouble getting enough air, but we kept going. Only two days before I had been lying in bed, recovering from a massive bee attack. Now I was sprinting for my life. The run didn't seem to test Siry at all. He didn't even breathe hard. We ran past the final buildings and into the hot sunshine. It was so bright I was nearly blinded. It didn't stop us from running. We were away from the buildings and the dangers they held. My confidence rose. We were going to make it. I was so confident that my thoughts shot ahead to our next move. Getting the ship away from the pier was the most important. Once out to sea, we had to decide on what to do about Twig. I knew that Siry would be all about that, and the other Jakills would surely agree. I wanted to find Twig as
well, but there was more in it for me. I needed to learn about Rubic City, and what had happened to Veelox. I'd yet to find Saint Dane. I felt his presence in everything around me. One way or another, I knew I'd be back in Rubic City.

There were several large mounds of debris between us and the pier. They were so high that they blocked our view of the ship. But we were almost there, so I thought it was okay to ease up. We'd been sprinting for a mile in tropical heat. Once the adrenaline wore off, the fatigue set in.

“Let's slow down,” I gasped.

Siry didn't argue. He was finally tired out. The two of us slowed to a jog and then a quick walk. We didn't say anything. We were too busy gulping air. All I could think about was getting onto that ship and getting away before anything else happened.

Siry was the first to see the smoke.

“Look!” he gasped, pointing.

Over the top of the large mound in front of us, in roughly the direction of the pier, was a billowing cloud of black smoke. We stopped to stare for a quick moment, then looked at each other. Rest time was over. We broke into a dead-on sprint. Suddenly we didn't feel so tired. Siry and I dashed toward the last large mound and skirted around it to see the pier…and the horror.

Our yellow ship was in flames. Floating offshore were two gunboats with Flighters aboard. We watched in stunned silence as both boats fired their cannons at our doomed ship, point-blank, blasting away at the already burning hull. Another shot was fired that hit the forward mast at its base. I heard a sick, wrenching sound as the mast toppled forward, crashing onto the deck, sending up a shower of sparks. The boat listed to its side. It would only be a matter of minutes
before it was on the bottom with all the other wrecks.

“Where are they?” Siry croaked, barely able to get the words out.

I didn't have that answer. The Jakills were nowhere in sight. Had they gotten off before the attack? Or were they consumed by the flames? All I could do was stare at the doomed ship.

“Why would the Flighters do this?” Siry asked. “They're…animals.”

I had a theory. Or at least an idea. Everything about these Flighters made me believe that somehow, someway, they were being influenced by Saint Dane. I still didn't know why. I didn't know who they were or what they thought they were going to get by targeting the people of Rayne. But I would find out. I had to. It was my job.

“We're trapped,” Siry said. “My friends are gone and we're trapped.” He looked at me and added, “What are we going to do?”

“We're going to stay safe,” I said. “And get answers.”

“How?” Siry asked.

“We're going to be Travelers. It's time you accepted that. It's the only hope you have.”

JOURNAL #30

IBARA

O
ur number-one priority was to get to someplace safe. There weren't a lot of choices. Running back into Rubic City was like running into a nest of spiders. Still, we had to chance it. Neither of us was quick to move. That changed when another cannon was fired from one of the gunboats and the ground exploded a few yards from us. Yes, someone had spotted us. It was time to be somewhere else. Without a word Siry and I dodged the mounds of debris and headed back toward the buildings of Rubic City.

Boom!
Another pile of dirt blew up to my right, sending a shower of dust and cement bits down on us. I was blinded for a second, but didn't stop running. We were too close to those guns. I kept going while rubbing my eyes and
boom!
The ground erupted behind us. Siry went flying forward and fell on his knees. I scooped him up as I ran. We finally got back to the first block of buildings, just as a cannon shell blew out a wall right next to us. I felt the sharp sting of cement shrapnel on my back, but I was okay. We had made it to safety. Safety? Did I actually write that? We may have been beyond the range
of the gunboats, but we were back in the land of Flighters. Frying pan? Fire? You tell me.

“They saw where we entered the city,” I said, breathless. “We've got to get as far away from here as possible.”

When we reached the first intersection, we turned right and moved away from the line we had been traveling. I had no idea if this would throw anybody off the scent or not, but it seemed like the right thing to do. I wanted to find a place where we could rest and collect our thoughts. We had been doing nothing but react. We had to come up with some kind of a plan. We traveled quickly down a side street, looking for a likely hiding place.

“There!” Siry shouted, pointing.

The door was below ground level. I figured it led into a basement shop. It looked like as good a place to hide as any. I nodded and we ran for it. When we opened the door, we were met by an eerie sound. There was an old-fashioned bell hanging over the door that jingled when the door brushed it. It was supposed to be a pleasant signal to a shop owner that a customer had arrived. Under the circumstances there was nothing pleasant about it.

The store had long counters and display cases, all empty of course. It looked like it might have been a small grocery store. I say that because there were several yellowed signs hanging around that advertised various kinds of gloid. Yeah, gloid. I thought I'd never hear about that stuff again. That was the Jell-O-like food gunk that supposedly had all sorts of nutrition. It was the main food eaten by the people of Veelox. Veelox. My mind was having trouble getting around the concept. Small clues like gloid kept telling me to get over it. I was on Veelox. The big question was, why was Saint Dane here?

We moved through the store into a small back room. There was a door on the far side that opened onto a courtyard. It seemed about as safe a place as we could hope for. If Flighters came in the front way, we could jam out the back. If they came through the back, we could run out the front. If they surrounded us, well, there was no sense in worrying about things we couldn't control. I wanted to catch my breath and my thoughts. I sat on the ground, looking up at the tall buildings that surrounded us. Were Flighters behind any of those windows, watching us? Siry sat in the doorway, his head down. Gone was the cocky, charismatic rebel who wouldn't accept a life of lies. The guy sitting there looked beaten.

“They're gone,” he said flatly. “Every one of my friends is dead.”

I wasn't so sure he was wrong, but I didn't want to make him feel any worse. “We don't know that,” I said, trying to be positive. “The others may have escaped. And Twig may be a prisoner.”

“It was a death ship,” Siry said. He was sounding more numb than upset. “I asked them to make sure nobody would board. I know that's what they did. Until the end.”

“The Jakills are loyal, not dumb. Once the attack started, I'm sure they abandoned ship. Some of them must have.”

“It's my fault,” he whimpered. “They're dead because of me. And for what?”

“They chose to be here,” I insisted. “Don't beat yourself up.”

“Why not?”

“Because I need you.”

“It's over, Pendragon,” he said, defeated.

We were at a crossroads. I was losing Siry. The guilt over
the loss of his friends looked like it might crush him.

“I know you don't buy into the fight against Saint Dane,” I said. “I don't blame you. It took me a long time too. But there's something I believe, and I want you to believe it too. No, I
need
you to believe it. I don't know how many of the Jakills died today. Maybe all of them, maybe not. Their deaths were not wasted.”

“How can you say that?” he snapped.

“Because you went looking for the truth and found it. Siry, the quest you all began may have saved Veelox from disaster.”

Siry didn't know how to react.

“You were right,” I continued. “There is more going on here than you were told by the tribunal. I know that for sure now. I know what they've been keeping from you. At least some of it.”

He looked at me with total confusion.

“I've been to Veelox before, Siry. I think it was a long time ago. Maybe generations.”

“What? Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because I didn't know myself. Some territories are on the same world, but at different times. There are three territories where I come from. What makes a territory a territory isn't just a location. It's about turning points. Saint Dane found ten turning points of Halla. He found moments in history where an event will happen that will determine a territory's future. If events play out the way they should, the territory will continue in peace, the way it was meant to be. Saint Dane has been trying to influence these turning points to go the wrong way and plunge each world into chaos. That's what he wants, Siry. He wants the territories of Halla to crumble, so he can remold them his own way. We've fought over seven territories and lost
two. One is Quillan, where your father died. The other is Veelox.”

Siry scowled and shook his head. “You were here before, in the past, fought Saint Dane, and lost?”

“Exactly.”

“Then if Veelox crumbled, why are we still around?”

“I don't know. The island of Ibara looks like it escaped whatever fate Saint Dane's victory brought to Veelox. Look at this city. The destruction. I think this is what most of Veelox has become. This is the truth that was kept from the people of Ibara.”

Siry walked to one of the walls and put his hand against it. The plaster material crumbled. The symbolism wasn't lost on either of us. Veelox had crumbled.

“Let's pretend I believe you,” Siry said cautiously. “That means Ibara will fall too. They can't keep the Flighters away forever. If Veelox is truly lost, what's the point?”

“The point is this is a territory,” I said. “Remudi was the Traveler. Now you are the Traveler.”

He scoffed. I didn't react.

“Each territory has a turning point,” I continued. “If I was sent here, that means there is a turning point. Here. It means we might have another chance to save Veelox. You think the Jakills died for nothing? I say they gave us another chance to save this world. If we don't try, if
you
don't try, their lives were truly wasted.”

Siry wanted to believe. I saw it in his eyes. But it was a little too much for him to swallow. Okay, maybe a lot too much. I had to convince him. It seemed impossible…until I remembered something we had seen earlier.

“I can show you proof that what I'm saying is true. That's what you wanted from the start, right? The truth? If you want
to learn the
whole
truth about Veelox, you've got to come with me.”

“Where?”

“Have you ever seen a pyramid?” I asked.

Minutes later we were carefully making our way deeper into the city. I knew exactly where to go. When I'd seen it earlier, it hadn't registered. Now I knew. It was the black wall. It had given me an uneasy feeling and now I knew why. Siry and I jogged quickly toward it. We reached the end of one block and stopped, ready to turn the corner.

“If we're going to guide the future of Veelox,” I said, “we first have to unravel its past.”

We turned the corner. Siry gasped. I would have too, except I knew what to expect. It still gave me a shiver. It was a giant black pyramid. It stood out in its surroundings not only because of its size, but because it didn't look anything like the architecture of the rest of the city. Not even close. I knew there were many more like it all over the territory. These dark monoliths were the cause of the Travelers' loss on Veelox. The incredible technology they contained sent the territory on a path of ruin. No, that's not right. It wasn't the fault of the technology. It was the fault of the people who became slaves to it.

Lifelight.

“What is it?” was all Siry could say.

How was I going to explain this incredible virtual-reality generator to a guy who grew up in a grass hut?

“You should see inside first.” I figured it would be easier to explain if he saw it for himself.

The pyramid was so huge that Siry and I had to jog several more blocks before we got to it. I remembered the pyramids having shiny black skins. But that was long ago. Time had done a job on them. The black surface was peeled back now in
many places, revealing the framework. The shine was long gone, probably from being exposed to the elements. But for how long? When had I been there before? Decades ago? Centuries? Back then, Rubic City had already begun to decay. The city had been technically still alive, with running water and electricity, but the people had already turned their backs on their homes by leaving reality and entering the fantasy world of Lifelight.

This was the very same Lifelight pyramid I had entered on my first trip to Rubic City. By my own clock that had been only a few years earlier. My memory was still pretty fresh. The base of the pyramid was trashed with the fallen remains of civilization. Mounds of debris were piled several feet up the sides of the structure. Luckily, the revolving-door entrance was clear. It was one of the few bits of good luck we had that day. It was a regular-size revolving door, but it looked like a speck at the base of this massive structure. I gave the door a shove. It didn't budge. Siry joined me, and we both put our shoulders to the door while pushing with our legs. Slowly, painfully, the door let out a screech as the metal gave way. It didn't swing smoothly, but we were able to move it far enough to squeeze ourselves inside.

We were faced with a long corridor. It was the sterilization corridor where long purple lights had killed any microbes that might have hitchhiked their way in on people. The purple lights were now dark, which meant the corridor was too. I couldn't see more than a few feet into the pyramid before daylight gave way to a big, black nothing.

“What do we do?” Siry asked.

“There's another room on the far end of the corridor. Hopefully, there's light in there.”

I took his hand. The corridor was narrow enough that,
while holding hands, we could reach the side wall with our free hand. We each kept one hand on the wall while moving slowly forward, shuffling our feet in case something was blocking our way. The corridor was dead black. Something could have been two inches from my nose, and I wouldn't have known it until I walked into it. We had gone only about ten yards when I kicked something. It felt kind of like a pile of hard sticks.

“Kick them aside,” I instructed.

Whatever they were, the sticks swept away easily, and we continued on. As we got closer to the end of the corridor, I could make out the doorway on the far end. Light was coming in from somewhere. We were able to move a little quicker and made it into the large ready room of Lifelight. Daylight was seeping in through holes that had been eaten out of the pyramid wall. It wasn't bright, but we could maneuver. The room was as I remembered it. This is where Lifelight jumpers checked in for their jumps. Behind the reception counter I saw something that made me smile. It was a faded oil portrait of a sixteen-year-old guy.

“Who's that?” Siry asked.

“Dr. Zetlin,” I answered. “The guy who invented all this.”

“What exactly
is
this?”

“I'll show you some things first. It'll be easier to explain then.”

Beyond the reception area was a door that I knew would lead to the core—the central control area of the pyramid. The door was halfway open. It was easy to push it the rest of the way. I saw the familiar long corridor with glass walls. Most of the glass was still intact, though several large sections were shattered. Or missing. On either side of the corridor, behind the glass, were the control stations where the phaders worked
to monitor the Lifelight jumps. The sight brought back a lot of memories. Not all of them were good.

There was barely enough light to see. We passed a few of the stations and the hundreds of screens that the phaders used to watch the various Lifelight jumps. The screens were dark of course. I wondered how long it had been since the last person had jumped. Siry stared at the technology in wide-eyed wonder. We took a few more steps, then something caught my eye. Ahead of us in one of the control stations, the quality of light was different. Up until then we had been relying on whatever sunlight leaked through the damaged pyramid. The light up ahead seemed warmer. We entered the control station. It looked exactly like the others. Dark, dead, dusty. Except for one thing.

“What is that?” Siry asked.

The control chair was empty. As I remembered, the control panel for each workstation was in the arms of the chair. There was nothing unusual about this one, except that a light was glowing. One single light. It was a small, orange circle that surrounded a silver button. It didn't give off all that much light, but it was enough to create the warm glow that had gotten our attention.

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