The Soldiers of Halla (26 page)

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Authors: D.J. MacHale

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“Which one?” I asked.

Saint Dane didn't know what I meant at first. He then smiled and wagged his finger at me. “Very good. I'm going to miss you, Pendragon.”

He strode for the door, then stopped and turned to Nevva. “Come,” he commanded, as if speaking to a dog.

Nevva straightened. The hard look was back. There was no hint of sympathy. Whatever second thoughts we had given her were gone. Nevva Winter was back to her old, cold self.

“I regret this,” she said. “But I will not allow my personal feelings to prevent the creation of a new Halla. It is for the greater good. You of all people must understand that concept, Pendragon. Sacrifices must always be made.”

“I do understand,” I replied. “I just don't believe that Saint Dane's Halla will be good for anybody but himself.”

“So you've told me,” Nevva replied, sounding tired. She looked to Elli and offered her a quick, curt, “Good-bye, Mother.”

She didn't wait for a response and strode for the door where Saint Dane waited.

“I love you, Nevva,” Elli called after her.

Nevva hesitated for the shortest of moments, but didn't stop or turn back. She strode past Saint Dane and out the door.

Saint Dane snickered and gestured to the remaining dados. The two guards let go of me and followed Saint Dane out. The door was slammed behind them. I heard the sound of the lock being thrown. The two of us stood there, dazed. I
put my arm around Elli. She buried her face in my shoulder and cried.

“I'm sorry I brought you back,” I said, trying to console her. “It was a mistake.”

“What are we going to do?” she asked.

“Exactly what Saint Dane expects us to do. We're going to save Mark.”

JOURNAL #37
24

S
aint Dane knew what he was doing. As usual.

He knew I wouldn't leave if Mark was in trouble. In spite of what Nevva had asked for, I was sure he would play out this execution for as long as possible in order to keep us there. That was pretty clear. What wasn't clear was when he planned on launching his dado attack on the exiles. Or where. I figured the exiles had to be on Third Earth, because the flumes were destroyed and Saint Dane had no way of sending his army to any other territory. So then, where were they? Somewhere in the destroyed New York City?

The logistics made sense, but I tried to make sense of the exchange that Saint Dane and Nevva had about her “little experiment” and her wanting to leave the territory where the exiles landed “unspoiled.” Third Earth had definitely been touched and wasn't even close to unspoiled. Did that mean the exiles were somewhere else? And what was Nevva's experiment? Even if we knew the answers to those questions, I had no idea how we could stop an army of dados. We could always go back to Solara and rally the rest
of the Travelers, but even with the warriors among us, there was no way we could stop an army.

On top of everything else, my plan to have Elli try and get Nevva to see reason had backfired. All it did was upset Elli and put Mark in danger. I guess it's an understatement to say that things were looking bleak.

“I'm sorry,” I said to Elli. “I've messed this up pretty badly.”

Elli gently touched my cheek. “Your only fault is that you put too much faith in the power of someone's better nature to triumph. That is who you are, and it is exactly what you should have done. Unfortunately, Nevva's better nature is not what we hoped it would be. For that, I am the one who should be sorry.”

“We all make our choices,” I said quickly. “Nevva made hers.”

Elli nodded, but I didn't think she bought it. “What has happened to Nevva is a reflection of what Saint Dane did to all of Halla. He took something good, and twisted it into something evil by appealing to a darker nature.”

“And we couldn't untwist her,” I added. “Which makes me question if Halla is too far gone to save.”

“Don't think that way,” Elli said quickly. “We may be near the end, but there is still hope. There is always hope.”

“Is there?” I shot back. “Even if we figured out a way to destroy every last one of those dados, what would stop Saint Dane from building more? And more after that? It's not looking good.”

Elli deflated. “Then what should we do? Give up?” she asked softly.

I laughed. “Give up?” I exclaimed, overly enthusiastic.
“Who said anything about giving up? This is just starting to get interesting!”

She knew I was making light of a very dark situation, but she appreciated it just the same and gave me a hug.

“I hope you know that you have done everything possible to put an end to this madness. I am so very proud of you.”

I wished I could have taken more comfort from that, but as nice as it was to hear, truth was that I had failed horribly. Many times over. You don't get points for effort. But in spite of my gloomy assessment, Elli was right. As long as the Travelers were around, there was hope. The trick was to figure out what to do next. I gave her a squeeze of thanks, then pulled away and scanned the room. We had to find a way out.

“Saint Dane took Mark because he wants us to stay here,” I said, thinking out loud. “That's good. It means he still thinks we can do some damage.”

I strolled around the large, empty room. The windows were up near the ceiling. No way to climb up there. The only way in or out of that room was the door—the solid wooden door with the heavy handle. I grabbed the handle and pressed the lever. It was locked. I looked to Elli and shrugged. “What the heck, it was worth a try.”

I stepped back from the door, debating about how hard it would be to knock down. I wasn't sure if that was a good idea or not, seeing as there were probably dados outside guarding us.

“It may be time,” Elli offered.

“Time for what?”

“To use the power of Solara.”

I hadn't even thought about that. I'd put that option out
of my mind because every time the Travelers used the spirit, we were pushing Solara closer to extinction. How much more power was left? Was there a way to measure it? Was Uncle Press looking nervously at some big cartoonlike gas gauge that was creeping toward “empty”? Each time we traveled, I cringed, expecting something horrible to happen. So far we were okay, but how much longer would that last? How much traveling were the other Travelers doing? It wasn't just me and Elli, after all. There were eight other Travelers flying around, searching for the exiles.

“It's supposed to be a last resort,” I said.

“I know,” Elli said with finality. “I believe we're there.”

Glancing around that room, that prison cell, I knew she was right. We could choose to sit there and do nothing while Mark was executed and the dados marched. Or we could do something. But what?

“I guess I could go back to Solara,” I said. “Then come back here and hope that the spirit sends me somewhere else. Like the other side of the door. But that seems a little like overkill to move three feet.”

“Why don't you just go under the door?” she asked, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

“Go under the—” I looked at the floor. It was an old door. Really old. It wasn't airtight by any means. I thought back to when Saint Dane and I were fighting. He swung his electric wand at me, and I willed myself to become smoke. I don't know exactly what happened, but his weapon passed through me with no effect. I had definitely changed my physical self. Was it possible to transform myself so completely that I could just float under the door?

“Yeah,” I said thoughtfully. “Under the door. Sure. Why not?”

I took a step back and stared at the wooden door.

Nothing happened.

I looked harder.

Didn't help.

“Feeling silly,” I announced.

“Don't. It would be silly not to try.”

I shrugged and looked at the door again. How did this work? It was easy enough to move between territories. All I did was think about where I wanted to go and there I was. Compared to that, going under a door should be like, nothing. Right? I closed my eyes and visualized what I wanted to do. I wanted to float. I imagined what it would be like to move with the air. I pictured myself descending to the ground.

I didn't feel any different. Disappointed and feeling like an idiot, I opened my eyes to discover…I was different.

It was like my eyes had become a moving camera. I didn't feel like I had changed, but I had. I traveled down, toward the floor, in complete control. Looking around, I didn't see myself. Had I become invisible? My eyes reached floor level, and I looked ahead to see the crack beneath the door. Was I small now? Could I sail right under? I imagined moving forward, and I did. I floated across the surface of the stone floor until I reached the bottom of the door.

I held my breath. At least, I think I did. Did I have breath to hold? I moved forward and passed underneath, seeing the width of the door passing over my head as if I were traveling under a bridge. I have to say, it was the coolest experience ever. If the whole thing wasn't so alien, I probably would have enjoyed it. As it was, I was more worried about how to get back to normal than in taking
the time to appreciate the fact that I had turned myself into some other kind of matter.

When I came out from under the door, I imagined myself returning to normal. I floated up. My eyes (or whatever it was I was seeing through) were on the door. I followed the lines of the deep, brown grain of the wood as I moved higher. The ascent took only a few seconds. I stopped. Was it over? Was I back to normal? I was still staring at the door when I sensed movement. I turned quickly to see a Ravinian dado coming for me, his silver wand high, ready to strike.

I was back to normal.

I dove to the ground to avoid the attack. If it hit me, I would be smoke again, and not the good kind. I side-kicked the knee of the dado. It was off balance from its attack and crumpled quickly. But it wasn't in pain. Dados didn't feel pain. As it fell, it was already swinging the weapon back at me. I thrust my hands out and grabbed its wrist. The thing was strong, but I had adrenaline on my side. There was no way I wanted that wand to hit me. I'd already wasted enough power to get out of that room. The other advantage I had was leverage. The dado was off balance, so it couldn't use its legs. After I kicked out its knee, I was already getting my feet under me. It was using its arms to push the wand at me. I was using my arms…and my legs.

I won. I twisted the hands of the dado around, breaking its grip. The wand clattered to the floor. I swept it up instantly and hit the dado square in the chest as it was turning to reach around. I felt a sharp jolt through my hands as the power of the weapon unloaded. Instantly the dado went stiff. It was creepy. Like switching off a light. Its eyes went blank. Its body went rigid. With a quick little shove I knocked it backward, and it fell to the floor. Dead. Fried. Whatever.

It had been an interesting thirty seconds.

“Pendragon?” came Elli's voice from the other side of the door.

“I'm okay,” I said, breathless. “There was a dado. Now there isn't.”

“You turned to smoke,” she said, her voice sounding a little shaky.

Oh. Right. That.

“Really?”

“Yes. It was like you melted and floated under the door. Are you all right?”

“I guess” was all I could say. I was too numb for anything more insightful than that.

“Can you open the door?” she asked.

I went for the door, but there was no way to unlock it. I quickly checked the dado to find out he didn't have keys.

“No,” I announced.

Elli asked, “Should I try to get out the way you did?”

I had to think about that for a second. Finding Mark was going to be tough enough. Having Elli with me would have made it that much harder.

“No,” I replied. “I'm sorry, Elli. Stay here for now. I'll be able to get around faster on my own.”

She didn't respond. I'm sure she wasn't thrilled.

“Elli? You all right?”

She answered with conviction. She was trying to be strong. “Yes. I understand.”

“If I'm not back in a few hours, go back to Solara. Tell Uncle Press what we've seen.”

“And what will you do?”

“I'm going to find Mark.”

“And then what?”

I laughed. “Then I'll figure something else out.”

“I know you will.”

“I'm sorry, Elli, but I think it's better that I do this on my own.”

“I do too.”

It was an awkward moment, especially because we couldn't see each other.

“Bobby?” she said. “If you get the chance, tell Nevva that I hope we can speak again someday. I want her to understand why I did the things I did.”

“I will,” I assured her. “Good-bye, Elli.”

I had to pull myself away from the door. It killed me to leave her behind, even though I knew she'd be okay. She could always return to Solara. My heart ached for her. I put her through torture by bringing her to see Nevva. All it did was cause her pain. There are a lot of things I would have done differently if I'd had another chance. Add that one to the list.

But I couldn't look back. Not just then, anyway. By using the spirit of Solara to get out of that cell, I'd given myself the chance to do something positive. I didn't want to waste it. It was time to get moving. It was time to find Mark. I started to run and nearly tripped over the dead dado. Seeing the inanimate thing gave me an idea. I dragged the broken device down the corridor until I found another empty room that was much like the one where Elli and I had been kept prisoner. I pulled the dado inside, and took off its clothes.

I was going to become a dado. Or at least try to look like one. Since I had no idea where I would have to go to find Mark, I figured that blending in would be a good thing. I had been wearing my Second Earth clothes for a while now.
Not only were they pretty gamey, I was afraid that I looked more like one of the roughed-up rebels who lived outside the conclave than a clean and tidy Ravinian. Hopefully, I thought, by wearing the red uniform of a Ravinian guard, I might not draw curious looks. It was risky, but I hoped it might give me a slight advantage.

The dado was more or less my size, though a little smaller around the chest and shoulders, which made his uniform fit pretty snug. I felt like I could easily bust out of it, Incredible Hulk–style. I'd have to be careful. I kept my own boxers on. Socks too. The one's I'd been wearing belonged to Courtney's dad. There were some things I wasn't willing to part with. Best of all, the boots fit almost perfectly. From the neck down I figured I looked the part. The problem was from the neck up. My hair was well over my ears and my beard stubble was dark—definitely un-dadolike. All I could do was push my hair behind my ears and pull the red Ravinian guard cap down low. It would have to do. I didn't bother putting my own clothes on the dead dado. It wasn't like he was going to get a chill. I pulled the machine behind the open door and tossed my clothes on top of it. If anybody glanced in from the corridor, they wouldn't see it. If they stepped inside, well, alarms would go off. Nothing I could do about that. The last thing I did was pick up the long silver weapon.

I was ready. I stepped out into the corridor, not knowing which way to go. It stretched out to both sides, with many doors along the way. If I'd had a coin, I'd have tossed it. I chose to go right and jogged down the long, tile-covered hallway. I had absolutely no plan. How could I? I didn't know where I was or where they might have taken Mark. The best I could do was walk around, pretending to be on guard patrol. Or whatever it was the dados did. I decided that the best place
to begin my search would be the Taj Mahal. That's where Saint Dane and Nevva hung out. Chances were good that was where they would take Mark.

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