The Merchant of Death

Journal #2 (continued)

Denduron

Ihad reached a new low. The more I learned about this world the less I understood. Worse, when I finally tried to take action, I screwed up. Loor and I nearly died on that river and it was my fault. I wanted to go home. I wanted to be in my bed. I wanted to feel Marley’s nose nudging me and smell her fishy dog breath. Instead I was lying cold and bruised on the bank of a river on the other side of the universe.

“Loor! Are you all right?” I heard the voice first, then saw the guy crashing through the woods. It was the knight who scared me into our whitewater adventure. As he appeared from out of the brush I could see that he wasn’t much older than me. He was tall, and the leather armor made him look even bigger. He wasn’t very agile though. The other knights I saw were trained, dangerous dudes, kind of like ancient marines. This guy had the gear and the look, but he acted more like a big puppy who was all floppy arms and legs. He wasn’t exactly the fighting machine one would expect. He stumbled out of the woods, tripped over a root, nearly did a face plant in the dirt, then looked at us with wide, frightened eyes.

“We are fine,” assured Loor.

“This was my fault,” whined the knight. “I am so sorry.”

Loor felt herself for broken bones. “Pendragon,” she said, “this is Alder.”

“Alder what?” I asked, though I think I already knew the answer.

“Just Alder,” answered the knight.

Yup, another one-name guy. When does a society progress far enough to start using two names? Whatever.

“I cannot tell you how happy we are that you have arrived, Pendragon,” said Alder enthusiastically. “Now we can begin.”

Uh-oh. What did he mean by “begin”? I was getting sick of being one step behind everybody else.

“Begin what?” I asked.

Alder looked at Loor like he was surprised I didn’t know what he was talking about. He should get used to it. I looked at Loor too. Obviously they hadn’t told me everything. Loor gazed across the river. I could tell she was debating whether or not to answer. Her jaw was clenching. She looked back to me, stared me down for a second, and then let it out.

“You have seen how the Bedoowan tribe treats the Milago,” she began. “There is more you have not seen. There is torture and starvation and disease. The Bedoowan treat the Milago worse than dogs. They do not have enough food or medicine. Half of the babies born do not live past the first few months. The glaze mines claim lives every day. If this horrible treatment is not stopped, the Milago will die out. The time has come to stop it.”

I didn’t like where this was going. Sure, these people had it pretty rough, and things needed to change. But what I didn’t get was what my part was supposed to be in all this. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to know, either.

Alder said, “The Milago are a gentle people. They are not warriors. It has taken years of hardship to convince them to take action. If it were not for Press, they may never have been ready.”

“What’s Uncle Press got to do with it?” I asked.

“Press has been their inspiration,” said Alder with reverence. “He has given the Milago the strength to fight back.”

Things were happening fast. This was the first time I heard the word “fight,” and I didn’t like it. “What about you?” I asked Alder. “You’re not a Milago. You’re a Bedoowan. How come you’re so concerned about them?”

Loor stared me right in the eye. “He is a Traveler, Pendragon,” she said forcefully. “Just like I am, and Press, and my mother. That is what Travelers do. They provide help where it is needed. Are you ready for that responsibility?”

“Well…no,” I said honestly.

“I did not think so,” spat Loor with disgust.

Alder gazed at me with a look of confusion, and maybe a little desperation. “But Press has spoken of you for some time now,” he insisted. “He told us that if anything happened to him, you would take his place.”

“Whoa, whoa!” I said, backing away from him. “Uncle Press didn’t fill me in on any of this! All he said was that there were some people in trouble who needed our help. I figured all we had to do was give somebody a ride someplace, or maybe help move some furniture. I didn’t know he was talking about leading some freakin’ revolution!”

Loor spun to me with fire in her eyes. “That is the word exactly,” she said with passion. “Revolution. The Milago have been preparing to revolt against the Bedoowan. Press has made them believe they can succeed. Without him, they will not have the strength to fight and they will all die. I do not know why, but he has made the Milago believe that you are able to lead them as he would. That is why you are here, Pendragon. That is what you must do.”

I felt like I was in the river again, being swept along with no control. My heart was beating about as fast as it had in the river too. I’m not a revolutionary, Mark. The closest I ever came to being in a fight was the time you and I wrestled over who was gonna bat first in Wiffle ball. That doesn’t exactly qualify me to lead a revolution.

“Look,” I said, trying hard not to let my voice crack. “I feel bad for these people and all, but I’m not up to this. You say I’m a Traveler? Fine, whatever. But up until two days ago I had no idea any of this even existed! How can I suddenly lead a revolution?”

“But you must,” said Alder seriously. “The Milago believe that you will take over for Press.”

“Then go get Uncle Press!” I shouted. Alder then looked down at the ground. Obviously something was wrong.

“Where is Press now?” she demanded.

Alder kept his eyes on the ground and said, “He is being held in the Bedoowan fortress. Kagan has sentenced him to death. He will be executed tomorrow at the equinox.”

Oh, man! Uncle Press was going to die! Could things get any worse? Loor spun away from Alder and picked up a rock. With a roar of anger, she reached back and threw it across the river. It was like she was channeling her anger and frustration into this one, mighty throw. She stormed toward me like an enraged bull. I took a few steps back, expecting her to take a swing at me. But she didn’t. Instead she stuck her nose in my face and seethed. “I do not understand why Press believes in you. You are a coward, you are weak, and you do not care for anyone but yourself. But you are a Traveler, and you will begin to act like one. It is time you saw the truth,” and with that she gave me a shove backward. I had to pinwheel my arms to keep from falling over.

Alder said meekly, “You know I cannot go with you.”

“I know,” answered Loor. “Meet us after dark.”

She gave me another shove and walked off. I didn’t know what else to do, so I followed her. We didn’t say much on our walk back to the Milago village and it gave me a chance to digest all that I had just learned. I guess that Travelers are some kind of cosmic do-gooders. That’s very noble and all, but I didn’t volunteer for this particular honor. Just the opposite. I didn’t want any part of it. Everyone kept telling me that I was a Traveler and that I had a responsibility, but who the heck made me a Traveler? I don’t remember signing up. Maybe it’s like the army where you get drafted. But if I were the guy in charge of drafting Travelers, I sure as heck wouldn’t pick somebody like me! They should have picked a Navy SEAL or a SWAT guy or better still, one of those WWF muscle heads. They shouldn’t have picked a fourteen-year-old gym rat. Even if I wanted to help the Milago, the second I opened my mouth they’d know I was a fraud. No, the best thing I could do was stick to Plan A, and that was to get to the flume and get out of here, ASAP.

There was one thing that bothered me though. Uncle Press was in trouble. No, worse. He was going to die the next day. But what could I do? If I went after him, Kagan’s knights would cut me to ribbons and we’d both be dead. I was in a horrible situation.

When Loor and I got back to the village we were greeted by Osa, who looked at us with concern. My guess is she could tell that things were going badly. Before Osa could ask what had happened, Loor said, “He must see the mines.”

Osa didn’t ask why, she just looked at her daughter and gave a weary sigh.

“Come with me, Pendragon,” said Osa and started to walk off.

“What if I don’t want to see the mines?” I asked, because I didn’t.

Osa looked at me with these intense, piercing eyes. She wasn’t scolding me. She wasn’t trying to intimidate me either. This is hard to describe, but the look she gave me was one of absolute certainty. The look said: “You will come and see the mines because that is what you must do.” Maybe it was a kind of hypnotism, but the instant she looked at me, I knew I had no choice. So I followed her. Weird, huh?

Loor didn’t come with us and Osa didn’t invite her. It was just the two of us and that was fine by me. As we walked through the Milago village, I started to notice something I hadn’t seen before. Whenever we passed one of the Milago, they would give me a quick glance. We’d make eye contact and then they’d quickly look to the ground and continue on their way. It was weird. It was like they were watching me, but afraid to acknowledge that I was there. Up until now, I thought they didn’t even know I existed. Nobody talked to anyone else and they certainly didn’t talk to me. That is, of course, except for Figgis. He was the only Milago who spoke to me. Everybody else kept to themselves. Yet here they were, checking me out. I was betting these villagers were looking at me and thinking: “How can this be the guy who’s going to lead our revolution? He’s a wussy kid!” And they were right.

I followed Osa back to the path that led to the ocean. We walked a few yards into the woods and I saw that there was another, smaller path that led off to the right. This is the path we took and it led us to a clearing where there was a large foundation made of stone. It looked much like the stage in the center of the village where the Transfer ceremony took place, but there was no wooden platform covering it. There was a huge wooden frame built over the foundation with a large pulley attached. A thick rope looped over the pulley and dropped down into the hole. Two burly men were hauling on the rope, bringing up something from below. The setup kind of reminded me of one of those old-fashioned wishing wells where the bucket would be dropped down on a rope and then hoisted out with water. But in this case, they weren’t hoisting up water, they were hoisting up glaze. The two men brought the large basket to the surface, grabbed it, and emptied it onto the ground. A few craggy glaze stones tumbled out. The two looked at each other and sighed. Apparently this wasn’t a very good haul. I remembered that they had to bring out enough glaze to balance with the wife of the man who was killed the day before. They added the new stones to a larger pile next to the foundation. There wasn’t much there. If they didn’t bring up more glaze, the poor woman would join her husband at the bottom of the pit. A cold chill went up my spine.

Osa walked to the foundation, sat down, and swung her legs over the side. “Be careful,” she commanded. And with that, she lowered herself over the side. Where was she going? Did she jump? I walked up to the edge, looked down, and saw that there was a ladder attached to the side. Osa was climbing down into what looked like a bottomless pit. In no time she disappeared into the gloom. I looked over at the two miners. Sure enough, they were looking at me. But the second we made eye contact, they looked away and went back to work. I’m not sure what was creepier: Knowing that everyone was checking me out, or climbing down a rickety ladder into the dark unknown.

“Now, Pendragon!” echoed Osa’s voice from below.

I reached over the side and tugged on the ladder to make sure it was sturdy. I swung my legs over, grabbed the ladder and started down. It was a good thing the pit was dark, because if I could have seen all the way to the bottom, I’m not sure I would have had the guts to climb down. The ladder itself was crudely made from saplings lashed together, but it was strong. After climbing down several feet, I found that the foot of the ladder rested on a stone ledge. But this wasn’t the bottom. The top of another ladder was leaning on the ledge next to this one and since Osa wasn’t there, I figured I had to climb down it as well. In all, there were fifteen ladders. Unbelievable. This pit was deep. Every third ledge had a tunnel that led horizontally away from the pit. I figured that these were abandoned sections of the mine. Probably when the glaze ran out on each level, they would tunnel deeper and deeper and deeper.

Finally I reached the bottom, where Osa stood waiting for me. There was light down here too. Small candles were everywhere. It wasn’t exactly bright, but once my eyes adjusted, I could see just fine. There was one tunnel leading away from the pit, and that’s where Osa went. I followed her obediently. The tunnel was carved out of the rock; I could stand up straight, but Osa had to crouch down a bit. It was a good thing I wasn’t claustrophobic.

“The main shaft was built generations ago,” she explained. “But when they discovered a rich vein of glaze at this level, the miners decided to do things differently.”

“What did they do?” I asked.

Osa didn’t have to answer. After a few more yards the tunnel emptied out into a humongous cavern. The ceiling must have been thirty feet high. It was spectacular. Leading off from the cavern were many other tunnels. It was like we were at the center of a wagon wheel and the tunnels, like spokes, led out from the center in all directions. Down each tunnel was a set of miniature tracks. I had seen pictures of gold mines before and I figured these tracks were for the ore cars.

“Once it was discovered that this was the level to find glaze, the tunneling started to spread out in all directions,” she explained. “There are miles and miles of tunnels. It is so complex that miners have lost their way and wandered for days.”

I had to admit it was pretty impressive, especially because these guys did all of the work by hand. We stood to the side of the cavern and watched the activity. There were no powerful mining machines here, just the strong backs of Milago miners. Some were pushing carts full of dirt, others emptied the carts in the center of the cavern and sifted it for bits of glaze. I also heard the distant sound of pickaxes ringing against stone as the miners labored to stretch the tunnels in their search for more glaze.

“The miners work day and night,” Osa explained. “It is the only way they can possibly meet Kagan’s unreasonable demands.”

She reached down and picked up one of the miners’ tools. It was a metal pickax with a wooden handle. “These tools are forbidden on the surface because they are made of metal,” she told me. “The penalty for using a metal tool on the surface is death.”

Now that she mentioned it, I didn’t remember seeing anything made of metal on the surface. All the tools that were used above were made from wood or from stone. It was like the Bedoowan were trying to keep the Milago back in the stone age, except for when it came to getting their precious glaze, of course.

I began to notice that there was an odd smell to the mine. It wasn’t a horrible smell, in fact it was kind of sweet. “What is that smell?” I asked.

Osa didn’t answer, but motioned for me to follow her. We walked across the large cavern, stepping across the railroad tracks. As we approached the far side I began to make out something that made me shudder. I hadn’t seen it before because the light was so dim, but now that we were here I could see things plainly. To be honest, I wished I still couldn’t see, but I did. Lying on the floor of the cavern were dozens of miners. They looked horrible. Some moaned in pain, others just sat there with blank looks.

“They look sick,” I said.

“They are,” came the sad reply. “The smell is a gas that is released when the glaze is separated from the rock. It is a poison that slowly destroys your ability to breathe.”

“We’re breathing toxic fumes?” I asked, ready to bolt back to the ladders.

“Do not worry,” she said calmly. “You must breathe it for years for it to be of concern.”

I looked at the sick miners and said, “These guys have been breathing it for years?”

Osa nodded sadly. “It is a painful death.”

“Why don’t they go up into the fresh air?” I asked with horror.

“They have no strength left,” was the grim answer. “These poor souls are in the final stages of the disease. They will die here.”

I took a few steps back from the sick miners. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I was afraid I might catch this nasty disease from them. Suddenly the huge cavern didn’t seem so huge anymore. The walls felt like they were closing in and I wanted out of there in a bad way. Maybe I had a touch of claustrophobia after all.

“Why did you have to show me this?” I demanded to know.

“Because it is very important that you understand how desperate the situation is for the Milago,” Osa said.

I wanted to scream. Osa was setting me up. She was showing me how bad these guys had it so I’d feel sorry for them and agree to lead their revolution. But why? Osa didn’t seem like a fool. She could see that I wasn’t the kind of guy who could lead a revolution. Her daughter figured it out pretty quick. Why wasn’t Osa with the program? I didn’t want to argue here in front of these poor miners, so I headed for the tunnel that led to the ladders.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Home!” was my simple reply. I hurried across the cavern, hopping over the railroad tracks and dodging the ore cars. Then just as I was about to enter the tunnel that led to the ladders, somebody ran in front of me. It was Figgis. But this time he didn’t stop to try and sell me something. He was in a hurry and I’m not even sure he knew it was me who he cut off. I watched the little guy run down the tunnel toward the ladders and was about to follow him when I felt the ground start to shudder. Uh-oh, was this an earthquake? Or a cave-in? A second later there was a huge explosion! I spun to look where the sound came from and saw black smoke billowing out from one of the tunnels. Many of the miners were looking at the smoking tunnel with confusion.

Now, I’m no expert, but these guys have been doing this mining thing for a long time. Surely they had been through an explosion like this before. You’d think that they would have instantly kicked into emergency gear and either evacuated the mine or started damage control. There could be miners trapped in there who needed to be rescued. But that’s not what happened. The miners just looked to each other with a mixture of fear and confusion. It was like they didn’t know what to do.

Finally Osa called out, “Are there men in there?”

One of the miners shouted out, “Rellin!” This seemed to wake the others up. They quickly came to their senses and headed for the smoking tunnel to rescue their leader. One of the miners tied a rope around his waist, boldly fought the smoke and entered the tunnel. Another few miners held the other end of the rope. I guess the idea was that if he passed out, they could drag him back to safety. Brave guy.

The ground didn’t shake again. Whatever damage the explosion caused was only in that one tunnel. I didn’t feel I was in any danger and I wanted to stay and see if Rellin was okay.

“How often do they have explosions like that?” I asked. Osa kept staring at the smoking tunnel and then said something I never expected to hear.

“What is an explosion?” she asked.

Huh? How could she not know what an explosion was? This woman knew everything there was to know. It couldn’t have been a language thing because Travelers understood all languages.

“You know,” I continued. “Explosion. That big bang. From dynamite or something.”

Osa looked at me with confusion and said, “I have never seen anything like that happen here, nor in my home territory. You are saying that loud noise caused the damage? Like lightning?”

This was deeply weird. Though maybe it explained why the miners reacted the way they did. They probably had no idea what happened either. But then what had caused the explosion? Maybe they tapped into some underground gas pocket.

Before we could talk more about it, the miners holding the rope began to frantically pull on their end. Other miners gathered to watch with concern. They stared into the smoky tunnel, waiting to see what came out. After a few seconds, the miner on the other end emerged from the smoke and in his arms…was Rellin. The chief miner was full of black soot and there were traces of blood around his forehead, but he was okay. Dazed, but okay. He was helped to sit down and brought a leather skin full of water to drink. Rellin took a long drink, swished it in his mouth, and spit.

Then an odd thing happened. Rellin looked up at the other miners, gazing at each one in turn, and began to laugh. The other miners didn’t know what to make of this. Maybe the total relief from his brush with death came out in nervous laughter. Or maybe he was crazy. I sure didn’t know and from the confused looks of the miners, they didn’t know either. I have to admit, it was kind of creepy. I think Osa felt the same way because she put a hand on my shoulder and said, “We should go to the surface.”

She didn’t have to tell me twice. I was down that tunnel and up those ladders in an instant. As I climbed, I looked up at the circle of blue sky that grew larger and larger the higher I got. It was the light at the end of a long, dark tunnel and I couldn’t get to it fast enough. When I poked my head out into the fresh air, I took a deep breath and promised myself that I would never go down in that hell hole again. One of the miners who hoisted up the basket of glaze was leaning against the wooden frame of the pulley system, watching me. The other miner was gone.

Then I sensed something strange. For some reason the miner didn’t turn away after we made eye contact. He kept on staring at me.

Osa poked up out of the hole, jumped onto the ground, and said, “Tell me more about this thing you call…explosion.”

Before I could answer, Osa’s attention was caught by something behind me. I turned to look and saw the miner who had been staring at me. Osa walked past me with her eyes fixed on the man. He just stood there, still looking at me with a dumb expression on his face. Osa walked right up to him, stared at him for a moment more, then quickly spun back toward me and shouted, “Pendragon, run!”

“Huh?”

Before Osa could say another word, the miner toppled over and fell at her feet. My eyes fixed on the wooden arrow that was sticking out of his back. Yeah, the guy was dead. That wasn’t a dumb look on his face, it was a dead look. I had never seen a dead man before. I couldn’t move. Osa ran to me, grabbed my hand, and started to drag me toward the forest. We had only gone a few steps when four of Kagan’s knights leaped out in front of us. Now I knew what had happened to the miner.

“We’ve come for the boy,” they announced. There was no mistaking it this time. Unlike the knight named Alder who I mistook for an enemy back by the river, these guys were not on our side. They carried clublike weapons and, judging from the poor dead miner with the arrow sticking out of his back, they wouldn’t hesitate to use them for whatever mayhem they thought fit.

Osa didn’t move, but I could feel her tense up. She let go of my hand and slowly turned sideways. I knew what this meant. It was exactly what we were taught to do in karate class. Turning sideways made you a smaller target. Yeah, there was going to be a fight and I was in the middle of it. Osa wasn’t about to make the first move. She was too smart for that. If something was going to happen, it would be the knights who would start it.

One raised his club and took a step toward us. I froze. Osa bent her knees, ready to defend herself. The knight let out a bellow, began to charge and…whack! He suddenly went down in a heap as if he had been shot. The other knights were just as surprised as I was, but I saw the reason for it before they did.

Standing behind them was Loor, holding her wooden stave. Nice shot. She had another weapon and quickly tossed it to her mother. Osa caught it and crouched into attack mode. Now they were both armed and the odds became a little better. But still, these knights were professional fighters. I wasn’t so sure how these warrior women would do against them.

Things happened fast. Before the knights could recover from the surprise of seeing their buddy do a face plant, Loor grabbed the club from the hand of the knight she had just whacked and in one quick movement she threw it to me. I caught it just as Loor took up position next to her mother. It was now three-on-three. Well, two-and-a-half-on-three because the chances of me using that club to attack one of those hairy knights were about the same as me sprouting wings and flying out of there.

“Fight, Pendragon,” commanded Loor.

At that instant the three knights charged. Osa and Loor ran to meet them. I stood frozen. My prediction about Osa and Loor being warriors turned out to be a hundred percent correct. These two were awesome. They swung their long wooden weapons like martial arts experts. If I weren’t so terrified, I probably would have enjoyed the show. They spun and twirled the long staves so quickly they were nothing more than blurs. The knights, on the other hand, fought awkwardly. They would swing their clubs, but the women would either bat the attack away with a deft flip of their stave, or dodge out of the way and answer the attack with a ringing smack to the body. If this were a toe-to-toe slugfest, I would have bet on the knights. But Osa and Loor never stood still long enough for the knights to get a solid shot at them. It was like watching lumbering bears being attacked by vicious bees. And the bees were winning.

The only problem was that the knights were armored. It was going to take more than a few defensive blows to stop these guys. But I was certain that Osa and Loor were going to take care of them, so I began to relax.

Bad move. That’s when one of the knights charged me. He had his club held high and screamed like he was getting up the energy to take my head off. I didn’t know what to do. I should have held out the club to protect myself. I should have ducked and then attacked. I should have thrown the club at him to slow him up. But I didn’t do any of those things. All I did was take a few steps back in fear, trip, and fall down on my butt. I was dead meat. The knight was almost on me. I could see the rage in his eyes. This was going to hurt. A few more steps and he would be within swinging range.

But then, Osa threw her wooden stave at the guy like a javelin and it hit him right in the knees. His legs buckled and he fell to the ground, hard. Loor was on him instantly. She gave him a ringing whack with her stave, and the knight crumpled unconscious. Two down.

Loor looked at me and I could see the fire of battle in her eyes. “Fight, you coward!” she commanded.

Osa ran up and shouted, “No! Take him. Hide him!”

Loor wanted to stay and fight beside her mother, but Osa was in charge.

“He must not be taken. Go!” commanded Osa.

There wasn’t time for argument because the other two knights were back on the attack. Reluctantly Loor grabbed me by the arm and yanked me to my feet. I have to tell you, Mark, I never felt so helpless and embarrassed in my life. I was a complete wuss. You always wonder how you might react in times of danger. You always have these visions that you’ll rise to the occasion and be the hero and save the day. Well, let me tell you, that fantasy couldn’t be any further from the truth than what was happening to me. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I was like a frightened baby.

As Loor pulled me away toward the forest, I glanced back to see what was happening with Osa. What I saw was incredible. She was even better on her own. This amazing warrior woman fought both knights at the same time. She spun, thrust, parried, and rarely missed the mark. It seemed almost easy.

Loor and I dove out of the clearing into the woods, then turned back and hid to watch the end game. I knew that Loor wanted to be in there fighting beside her mother. It was killing her to be here, baby-sitting me.

“Your mother is amazing,” I whispered to Loor.

Loor didn’t comment, but I knew she felt the same way. A few moments later, it was all over. The knights had been losing steam and after a few more ringing blows, they both collapsed to the ground either unconscious, or too exhausted to move. Osa remained in a crouch and swept the air with a quick 360 to be sure the fight was over. She then straightened up, spun her wooden stave like a ninja master and slipped it into its leather strap that ran across her back. The battle had been won.

“You don’t deserve this, Pendragon,” Loor spat at me.

She was right. I didn’t. These two women had risked their lives for me, and there was no way I was capable of living up to what they expected of me in return. But as bad as I felt, the real horror of the situation hadn’t yet hit. Loor and I stood up and started back into the clearing. Osa saw us. She took a few steps toward us, then suddenly stopped. Loor saw this and quickly put her hand out to stop me as well. Something was wrong. Were the knights waking up? I looked at Osa, who slowly returned to her fighting stance. She was back on full alert and started to reach for her wooden stave. I looked around the clearing, but there was no movement at all. The knights lay unconscious where they had fallen. Why was everyone so tense?

A second later I had my answer-a moment that will forever haunt me. I first heard a rustling and thought someone was coming through the bushes. I soon learned it wasn’t in the bushes. It was coming from above. It was in the trees. I looked up and saw to my horror that perched up in the trees were four more knights. These knights weren’t armed with clubs. They had bows and arrows. I had forgotten that the miner was killed with an arrow. These knights had been there the whole time, watching the spectacle. And now they were about to make their move.

Osa stood in the middle of the clearing, unprotected. Loor was about to run to her, but Osa yelled out, “Hide him!”

This made Loor stop. It must have taken every bit of will-power to go against her instincts and obey her mother, but that’s what she did. She backed off, grabbed my hand, and that’s when it started.

The knights let loose with their arrows, all aimed at Osa. The brave woman wore no armor. There was nothing to protect her from this deadly rain. All four arrows hit their mark, and Osa crumpled to her knees. Loor let out a pained little sound and started to run for her, but I grabbed her. By now the knights had already reloaded, and if Loor had run to her mother, she would have met the same deadly fate. We stood there for a second, looking into the doomed woman’s kind eyes. Maybe I was imagining things, but as I write this now I could swear that she gave us a little smile.

The knights unleashed another volley of arrows. But these weren’t meant for Osa. These were aimed at us. Luckily we were protected by trees and they all ended up missing us or slamming into branches. But it was enough to throw Loor back into action. She grabbed my hand and off we ran into the forest, leaving behind her mortally wounded mother.

Loor knew the forest well. Keeping up with her was like running with a deer. She leaped over fallen trees, skirted boulders, and blasted through a thicket. We weren’t going in a straight line either, and I realized that this journey was all about shaking the knights who might be trailing us. I was getting tired and had a nasty stitch in my side, but there was no way I would complain. Not after what these women had done for me.

We eventually made our way around to the far side of the village, where Loor brought me to a stone hut. I wasn’t exactly thrilled with her choice of hiding places. All it would take for a knight to find us was a quick search of the village. But I soon found out that Loor had other things in mind. She quickly dove on the pile of animal skins that was lying along one wall and pulled them aside. Beneath was the same hard-packed earth that all the hut floors were made of. Loor took her wooden stave and started to scratch at the dirt. With a couple of quick digs, she unearthed a wooden ring. She threw her stave down, grabbed the ring and pulled. It was a trapdoor!

“This leads to the mines,” she said in explanation.

Oh, great. I had promised myself never to return to those mines. It was a promise that lasted a good twenty minutes.

“The Bedoowan are afraid of the gas,” she said. “They never go into the mines.” She threw open the trapdoor to reveal another crude ladder leading down. Here we go again. She motioned for me to go first. Loor followed quickly and closed the door behind her. We climbed down only one ladder. It led to a small tunnel that we had to crouch down in to walk along. I could tell that it was angled downward.

“There are many of these small tunnels,” she said. “They bring air to the miners.”

So basically we were walking along a ventilation shaft. Made sense. But since this was only for ventilation, there were no candles to show us the way. It was like walking through ink. I kept one hand out in front of me in case a wall decided to jump out. But I wasn’t going fast enough for Loor. She barged ahead and took the lead. She moved much faster and it was easier to follow her than it was to follow nothing. I just hoped she knew where she was going.

This ventilation tunnel led to a much wider tunnel with some ore car tracks. I figured this must have been one of the early mining tunnels that was dug before the Milago built the big cavern. We followed this tunnel for several minutes until it emptied out into a familiar space. It was the mine shaft where Osa and I first climbed down. When was that? It felt like a century ago, but it was more like an hour. We came out on one of the rock ledges and I saw that we were only three levels down from the surface. The familiar circle of blue light beckoned from above.

Loor stood out on the ledge and looked up. She was obviously debating with herself about something and it didn’t take long for me to find out what it was.

“Go to the bottom,” she commanded. “I will meet you there. Go!” She stared at me until I started to climb down the ladder. As soon as I started down, she began to climb up. Just as I figured. She wanted to go to her mother. I hung on the ladder and watched her climb to the surface. I know I should have kept going down as I was told, but I couldn’t. Osa had put her life on the line for me, and I had to find out how she was. So after wrestling with the decision for a few seconds, I started to climb up.

When I reached the last ladder before the surface, I heard something coming from outside. I didn’t know what it was at first, and when I finally recognized it, it made my heart sink. It was Loor. She was humming the same sweet song that I’d heard her humming by the river. I pulled myself up out of the mine shaft and what I saw then, broke my heart.

Loor was sitting on the ground next to the stone foundation. She cradled Osa’s head in her lap and stroked her hair while slowly rocking back and forth as if lulling a baby to sleep. I didn’t know if Osa was dead or alive. Lying next to her were the four arrows that had hit her. Loor had pulled them out. I stayed where I was because I didn’t want to intrude. Loor was a proud girl and I was sure she wouldn’t want me to see her cry.

I glanced around the clearing and saw that the knights were gone. The archers in the trees probably dragged off their unconscious buddies. The body of the Milago miner was still there though. He lay on his back, staring up sightlessly into the sky.

That’s when I saw Osa’s hand move. She reached out weakly and took her daughter’s hand. She was alive! I quickly ran over to see if I could be of any help. Loor didn’t acknowledge that I was there, except that she stopped humming her song. But Osa knew I was there, and she looked up at me with tired eyes.

“Do not be sad,” she said with a weak voice. “Either of you. This is the way it was meant to be.”

I had trouble holding back my tears. Osa wasn’t going to make it.

“I…I’m sorry, Osa,” was all I could get out.

Osa then took her hand away from Loor and reached for the leather pouch around her neck. It was the pouch where she had put the silver ring.

“Take this, Pendragon,” she said. “Use it as you see fit.”

I took the pouch and pulled out the ring. Osa nodded encouragement, so I put it on the ring finger of my right hand. Oddly enough, it fit perfectly.

“You are both at the beginning of a long journey,” said Osa as she grew weaker. “Pendragon, I know you do not feel you are up to the challenge. You are wrong.”

I nodded, but I didn’t believe her.

Osa continued, “Halla is in your hands. Remember that. Let it be your guide. Together you two will-” Osa caught her breath, gave a little shudder and closed her eyes. They would never open again.

This was a painful moment. Of course, I felt sympathy for Loor. The girl had just lost her mother. But I, too, felt loss. In the short time I had known Osa, I had developed an affection for her. She was the one voice of reason in the storm of confusion that I had been swept into. I trusted her. I felt safe with her. And my trust had proven to be well placed, for she had sacrificed her own life to save mine. That’s a debt that can never be repaid.

I wanted to comfort Loor but I didn’t know how. I struggled to find the right words, but Loor spoke first. “Go down into the mine, Pendragon,” she said. “I will meet you there.”

I wasn’t about to argue. I just nodded and stepped away. Before I climbed down onto the ladder I said, “I’m sorry, Loor.”

Loor didn’t acknowledge me. She just sat there, still cradling her mother. As I climbed down the ladder, I could hear that she was once again humming the tune from the river. I had to fight back my tears.

I climbed all the way down to the bottom of the mine and found my way into the giant cavern. Once there I saw that it was business as usual. There was no day here and no night. All signs of the excitement from the explosion were gone. I didn’t know what to do, so I found a quiet corner and sat down to try and think. To say that my mind was a jumble of conflicting thoughts was an understatement. I spun the silver ring on my finger. This strange piece of jewelry might actually be my ticket home. But as much as I wanted to use it, the idea of bolting out of here made me feel incredibly guilty. For some reason that I still didn’t understand, everyone was expecting me to help these poor people fight for their freedom. Stranger still, an amazing person had just given her life so that I could live to carry out that mission.

I wished I knew what to do. If there was something these people needed that I could deliver on, I’d gladly do it. But lead a revolution? That’s insane! I sat there for a while and even got a little bit of sleep. Finally Loor arrived carrying a basket.

“Come with me,” she ordered. So I got up and followed her. She led me down one of the mine tunnels that didn’t look as if it were active. A few feet along we came to an opening to a small room that had been cut from the rock. It was set up like one of the huts with animal fur bedding, a table, and candles for light.

“This is where we come when Kagan is looking for us,” she explained. “You will be safe here.” She then handed me the basket and I saw that it was full of bread and fruit. I needed to eat, but I didn’t have much of an appetite.

I took a chance and asked, “Where’s Osa?”

“She was taken to the village,” said Loor with no emotion.

“Tomorrow I will take her to Zadaa.”

Zadaa. That was the territory where Loor and Osa came from. So that meant Loor knew how to use the flumes to get around. And if she was going to bring her mother’s body back home, I couldn’t imagine she planned to climb back to the top of that mountain to get there. There must have been another way to use the flumes.

There was some serious tension in this little stone room just then. Loor was angry, but I wasn’t sure how much of that anger was aimed at me. I was upset and sad and to be honest, a little scared of her. She had a nasty temper and if she decided to take it out on me, there’d be nothing left of poor Bobby Pendragon except a stain on the wall. I decided not to push Loor by talking. So I sat down on the animal fur and tried to act invisible.

Loor was like a caged cat, pacing back and forth. What I feared was that her anger would build to a point where she’d explode and take me apart. In a strange way, that was exactly what happened. But it happened in a way that I never expected. She didn’t hit me. She didn’t insult me. She didn’t even scream at me. All of those things would have been understandable. But what she did hurt much more.

“I am taking you home tomorrow,” she said flatly. “You do not belong here.”

Whoa. That was thelast thing I expected to hear.

“But…what about the revolution?” I asked lamely.

“You think you cannot help these people because you are not a warrior,” she said. “But the Milago do not need a warrior. They need someone they can trust. You are not that person.”

This took me by surprise. Obviously I was not a fighter like Loor, and I was not exactly the brave, hero type. But trustworthy? Come on! I could be trusted. I was a good guy. Where did she get off calling me untrustworthy?

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

She looked me right in the eye and said, “How can someone be trusted who only thinks of himself? From the moment you arrived, you have plotted to get away. It did not matter how much the Milago need help. It was always about getting home.”

I was feeling a little defensive at this point. I thought she was being unfair and said, “Okay, maybe you’re right. But I was kind of thrown into this mess without a whole bunch of warning. It’s a lot to ask someone to turn their life upside down in a day!”

“I know, Pendragon,” she said. “The same thing happened to me. But there is a difference between you and me and it has nothing to do with fighting.”

“And what’s that?”

That’s when she let me have it.

“You saw how my mother died,” she said, trying to hold back emotion. “I would have done anything to save her. But you…I do not understand how you can only think of yourself when your uncle is about to die.”

Those words hit me hard. She was right. Uncle Press was in trouble. I knew it ever since that sled had landed us in the snow bank. Yet I was planning on leaving without even trying to help him. I had been so worried about saving myself that I didn’t think for a second that Uncle Press needed me. Loor was right and I was ashamed.

“That is why you are of no use here, Pendragon,” she said with finality. “The Milago need someone to have faith in. You are not that person.” She turned and headed for the door, but just before she left she said, “After you get some sleep, I will bring you home. You can go back to the life you miss so dearly and forget that any of this ever happened. I suppose in time you will also forget about Press.” And she left.

I had just learned something about myself and I didn’t like it. Could I really be that selfish? Everything Loor said was dead on. Sure I cared about Uncle Press, but I convinced myself that there was nothing I could do to help him. But was that true? Or was it just an easy way to get out of trying? Did I even let my mind think of the possibility of trying to rescue him? I spent the next few hours questioning myself. Memories of the past few days played over and over in my head. I was haunted by the vision of the guy who was coldly thrown to his death because the Milago hadn’t mined enough glaze. I continued to see the horror of Osa fighting for her life and ultimately losing to a shower of arrows. I remembered the look on Loor’s face when she wanted to help her mother, but chose instead to protect me.

But most of all, I remembered Uncle Press. I thought back to my first memories of him. He was always there for me. It was sad testament that my last memory of him was going to be the sight of him dragged off by Kagan’s knights. That wasn’t right. That was not the way it should end. And that’s why I need your help, Mark.

After I finish writing this journal, I’m going to put down some instructions on a separate piece of parchment. That way you can keep it with you. I think you should keep my journal separate and in a safe place. Osa was right. It’s important that I write down everything that’s going on. If I never get back, these words are the only record of what happened to me. Treat them like gold, buddy.

I don’t know if it’s fair of me to ask you to do this. I’m beginning to think that I don’t deserve it. If you can’t help, I’ll understand. No harm, no foul. I’m still going to do what I have to do anyway. I’m not even sure if the help I’m asking for will do any good. I’m winging it here. The real wild card is Loor. She may not give me a chance, and without her help the odds are going to be really against me. But you know, it doesn’t matter. One way or another, with or without her, I’ve made up my mind.

Tomorrow I’m going after Uncle Press.

END OF JOURNAL #2.

Second Earth

Courtney finished Bobby’s second amazing journaland placed it down on the table. Mark had finished a few minutes earlier and was already looking over the additional piece of parchment paper that Bobby had included with his latest missive. It took a while for her to say anything. The story contained on the pages from Bobby was getting more fantastic with each new paragraph, and she had to let it sink in. Finally she looked at Mark and asked, “What does he want you to do?”

Mark stood up and paced Courtney’s dad’s workshop as his mind tried to work its way around the task at hand. On the additional piece of parchment, Bobby had outlined a job for Mark to do that was fairly simple, yet still dangerous.

“It’s a list,” explained Mark. “He wants me to put together a bunch of stuff and get it to him.”

Courtney grabbed the paper and looked over the list. “Get it to him?” she exclaimed. “How?”

Mark grabbed the list back and shook it at her. “Th-That’s the hard part,” he declared nervously. “He wrote out instructions. First I’m supposed to try and use the ring the way Osa did. But if that doesn’t work, which it shouldn’t because I’m not a Traveler, then he wants me to find the gate to the flume in the subway station.”

“You mean the abandoned subway in the Bronx with the killer dogs?” asked Courtney in disbelief. “That’s like…suicide.”

“Y-Yeah, tell me about it,” Mark exclaimed.

Courtney and Mark fell silent. It was a dangerous favor that Bobby was asking.

Finally Courtney asked, “But you’re gonna do it, right?”

“Of course!” Mark answered quickly, as if he were insulted that she even had to ask. “You think I’d blow off my best friend? Gimme a break.”

“Then I’m going with you,” said Courtney without a hint of doubt.

“N-No way,” said Mark quickly.

“Yeah way!” Courtney shot back. “You need somebody to cover your butt.”

“Who’ll coveryour butt?”

“I can cover my own butt,” said Courtney with her usual cockiness.

It was hard to argue with that. Courtneycould cover her own butt. But Mark doubted that she ever had to do it in a place like the badlands of the South Bronx against a pack of vicious quig-dogs and a demon killer by the name of Saint Dane. No, he was pretty sure Courtney hadn’t encountered that particular challenge before. But then again, he didn’t want to do this alone. The idea terrified him. He thought over the dilemma for a good five seconds and then asked, “You sure you want to help?”

“Absolutely,” she said as she grabbed Bobby’s list back. She looked it over and then announced. “I get why he wants some of this stuff…a flashlight, a watch…but what’s he gonna do with a CD player?”

“You’re asking me like I should know?” Mark said sarcastically. “None of this makes any sense to me.”

Courtney scanned the list again and then said, “Uh-oh, he wants some stuff from his house.”

“Yeah, I saw that,” said Mark. “But I can substitute other things.”

This raised another tough issue. Courtney threw a sober stare at Mark and said, “If we can get things to Bobby, that means we can tell him his family disappeared.”

Mark had to think about this. Courtney’s instincts were right. Bobby had to know what was going on, even though they didn’t really know themselves. The only thing they knew for certain was that the Pendragons had vanished.

“Bobby should know,” said Mark cautiously while still working out his thoughts. “But not yet. There’s nothing he can do about it now.”

“But it’s his family,” countered Courtney.

“I know,” said Mark. “But so is Uncle Press. I don’t know what Bobby’s got planned, but he has a shot at saving his uncle. I’m not sure there’s anything he could do here to help find his family.”

Courtney realized that Mark was right. Bobby needed to do what he had to do on Denduron. There would be plenty of time after that to find his family. Besides, the police were already working on the case. What more could Bobby do?

“We’ll tell him after he’s back for good,” said Mark with finality.

“And what if he doesn’t come back for good?” asked Courtney. “Mark, I think we should tell our parents what’s going on.”

“N-No! We can’t!” shouted Mark.

“Why? Maybe they can help!” said Courtney hopefully. “It would be much safer if weall went to the subway with the stuff! Right?”

Mark really wanted to agree. He wanted to dump this all on an adult who had more authority than he had. But he felt certain he knew what would happen if they did. He chose his words carefully and said, “Courtney, I’d love to tell our parents and get their help and go to this subway station with Captain Hirsch and armed cops from the Stony Brook Police. But you know what would happen if we told them? They’d stop us. They’d probably lock us up. Then they’d all sit around and try to logically figure out what’s going on and by the time they came to any decisions it could be too late for Bobby…and for Press.”

Courtney let Mark’s words sink in. The guy was kind of a dweeb, but he was a smart dweeb. If they told their parents it would be all over. They had to do this on their own. Mark quickly gathered up the parchment papers and started rolling them up.

“We can get this stuff together in a couple hours,” he said. “The trick will be to sneak out without our parents knowing-”

“Whoa, whoa,” interrupted Courtney. “You’re not thinking of doing this tonight, are you?”

“Well, why not?” said Mark innocently.

Courtney spoke to Mark slowly and deliberately, as if he were a child. She wanted him to understand exactly what she was saying. “This is important,” she said. “But by the time we get this stuff together it’ll be dark and something tells me that going where we have to go isn’t too safe after dark.”

This made Mark think. They were headed into a rough part of town and rough parts of town got rougher after dark. They definitely had a better chance of pulling this off in the daylight. It was more important to get it done than to get it done fast.

“You’re right,” said Mark. “I’m not thinking straight.”

“Yeah, you are,” said Courtney. “You’re just excited. Let’s split the list, get the stuff, and then meet back here tomorrow morning.”

That made sense. Tomorrow would be the day. Courtney searched for a piece of paper and a pen so she could write them each their own list. She picked up the piece of parchment paper with Bobby’s instructions and looked at the yellowed paper with the blotchy writing for a long time. Mark could see that something else was on her mind. He waited for her to pull her thoughts together. Finally Courtney turned to Mark and asked, “What was she like?”

“What was who like?” asked Mark.

“Osa. She gave you the ring, right? What was she like?”

It was true. Mark had almost forgotten. He had actually met one of the characters from Bobby’s adventure. She was in his bedroom. Mark put the rolled parchment pages down and allowed his thoughts to drift back to the night before.

“She was like a dream,” he said softly. “But the thing I remember most is that when she looked at me, I felt…safe.” Mark looked down to the ring on his finger and continued, “And now she’s dead. I guess she wasn’t able to make things safe after all.”

The two took a moment to grieve silently for a woman they only knew through the pages of Bobby’s journal. Then Courtney picked up her pen and began to write. There was work to be done. They went over Bobby’s list and picked the items they felt they could each find most easily. Courtney made out the two lists, then with the plan of meeting back at her house at sevenA.M. the next day, they split up and went to work.

Mark went home and brought Bobby’s parchment papers with him. Bobby had asked him to treat them like gold and that’s what he planned to do. Mark had a hiding place that no one in his family knew about. His attic was full of old furniture. Tucked way in the back was an ancient rolltop desk that hadn’t been moved since before Mark was born. The drawers of the desk were locked and his parents never tried to open them because they didn’t have the key. But Mark did. He had found it hidden on a lip under the desk when he was eight years old. He never told his parents because they didn’t really care, but for him it was the perfect place to hide his most treasured possessions. His special stash included mint conditionMad magazines; baseball cards for rookie Yankees Derek Jeter, Bernie Williams, and Mariano Rivera; some Star Wars action figures that were still in their original packaging; a report card from the seventh grade that had two Ds…just to remind him how easy it is to screw up; and an assortment of other small items that had special value to him alone.

Every so often Mark would go up in the attic to look over these treasures. It always made him feel good, like visiting old friends. He especially liked to check out the toys. He was too old to be playing with them, but they always brought him back to a fun time in his life, if only for a moment. It was a pleasure that no one had to know about.

When he opened the drawer this time, he wasn’t hit with the familiar warm wave of nostalgia. As he looked down at all his good junk, he had the strange feeling that it belonged to someone else. And in a way, it did. It belonged to the old Mark, the innocent Mark of yesterday, whose biggest concerns were about finishing homework on time and battling the acne that was running wild on his nose. But that was yesterday. Today he had to deal with issues that not only affected life and death on the far side of the universe, but raised serious questions about the reality of life in his own backyard. It wasn’t until Mark opened that drawer that he realized how much he had changed in the past few hours. He wanted to pick up the Chewbacca figure and let out a Chewie roar. He wanted to flip open aMad magazine and laugh at “Spy vs. Spy.” He wanted to walk the dog with the whistling yo-yo he had kept since his day at the state fair when he was six. Instead he found a cardboard box, pulled out the drawer and dumped everything into it. He closed the box and shoved it under the desk alongside all the other dusty, long-forgotten boxes full of long-forgotten stuff. It was like putting aside his old life to make room for the new one.

This desk drawer was still going to be the place for Mark’s most valued possessions, but they were no longer the trinkets that held warm memories of childhood. This would now be the place to hold Bobby’s story. He carefully placed the rolled scrolls in the wooden drawer. They fit perfectly, front to back. Mark made a mental note that there would be room for many more scrolls. He usually kept the desk key in his bedroom desk, but that didn’t feel secure enough anymore. His mother had given him a silver chain that she used to wear when she was his age. It had a peace symbol on it and Mark had it hanging from his bedroom mirror. Mark took the chain down and replaced the pendant with the key. The chain then went around his neck, never to be away from him again. He now felt reasonably secure that Bobby’s pages were safe. Or at least as safe as he knew how to keep them.

At sevenA.M. sharp Courtney’s doorbell rang. When she opened the door, Mark was standing there wearing a large backpack from L.L. Bean.

“Did you sleep?” he asked.

“No,” she answered. “Did you get any more pages?”

“No,” he answered. “Let’s get this party started.”

They went down to Courtney’s dad’s workshop, where Courtney had laid out all of the items from her half of the list.

“Where are your parents?” Mark asked her.

“They left for work.”

“You know we have to cut school to do this,” Mark said.

“Do you care?” asked Courtney.

Mark didn’t have to answer. The two stood there looking at the items, not sure of what to do next. Courtney broke the tension.

“Try the ring thing,” she said.

Mark scanned the items and picked out the flashlight. It was roughly the same size as the rolled parchment pages and as good a candidate as any. He then took off the ring and put it on the floor. He knelt down, put his finger on the gray stone and looked at Courtney.

“Go for it,” she encouraged.

“Denduron,” whispered Mark. Nothing happened. “Denduron,” he said again, this time a bit louder. Still no reaction from the ring.

“Let me try,” said Courtney and knelt down. She touched the ring and shouted, “Denduron!”

They both looked at the ring, but it lay motionless on the ground.

“I g-guess we’re going to the subway,” Mark said soberly.

Courtney jumped up and started to pack the gear into Mark’s backpack. She moved fast, as if she were afraid she might chicken out if she stopped to think too much about what lay ahead.

“I got a train schedule,” she said efficiently. “We can take the commuter train to 125th Street, then catch a subway from there.” When she finished packing, she closed up the buckles on the pack and looked at Mark. It was time to go.

“Courtney,” said Mark sheepishly. “I’m scared.”

The two let that admission hang in the air for a moment, then Courtney straightened up and said, “You know something? I’m not. We’re gonna do this.”

It may have been a bold bluff, but seeing Courtney being her usual confident self gave Mark hope. Maybe they could do this. So he hoisted the pack onto his back and the two started for the train station.

Stony Brook Station was at the bottom of the Ave. It was early so the platform was still packed with business commuters in suits who were on their way to work in New York City. Courtney and Mark had to keep one eye out for any parents who might know them and question why they weren’t in school. They saw one guy who Mark knew from Boy Scouts, but they saw him in time to make sure they boarded a different car when the train pulled into the station. They didn’t need to be so cautious. All the commuters had their heads buried in their newspapers and didn’t look at anyone else on the platform.

The train ride into New York was a quiet one. The commuters who weren’t reading were asleep. It would have been hard for Courtney and Mark to discuss their mission for they definitely would have been overheard. Mark looked at the commuters reading their morning papers and had to laugh to himself. They were all reading articles about the stock market, or about sports, or about a speech the president had given at some parade. But whatever news they were reading about couldn’t compare to the very real story that he and Courtney were living out right in front of their noses. Mark could imagine the headline: LOCAL BOY FLUMED ACROSS THE UNIVERSE TO LEAD REVOLUTION. Nowthat’s a news story.

All Courtney wanted to do was take these few minutes to relax. She knew that once they stepped off this train their adventure would begin and she wanted to be calm enough to handle whatever came their way. So she laid back in her seat, closed her eyes and tried to keep her heart from beating as fast as it was.

In no time they arrived at their stop, 125th Street in Manhattan. The train would continue on from there to Grand Central Station, where most of the commuters were headed. But 125th Street was much closer to the Bronx, so with a silent nod Courtney and Mark got off the train.

They had always heard their parents say that this was a bad section of town. They weren’t entirely sure what was meant by bad, but they were nervous just the same. One thing was certain. This wasn’t suburban Connecticut. They were in New York City with all the traffic, noise, and people congestion that New York is famous for. Courtney had a map of the New York City subways and had carefully plotted out a route to get close to Bobby’s abandoned subway station. It was a short walk from the 125th Street commuter trains to the nearest subway stop and they made it with no problem. They descended into the underground station, bought their tokens, and hit the trains.

The subway trip to the Bronx was uneventful. The neighborhoods of New York that they traveled through were filled with people from all different nationalities and ethnic backgrounds and none of them were monsters. They were all just people going to work or going to school and generally living their lives. Under other circumstances, Courtney and Mark might have enjoyed this. But these weren’t other circumstances. They were on a mission.

After changing trains twice, they arrived at the subway stop that was nearest to the abandoned one that Bobby had described. They climbed back up into the sunlight to see a Bronx neighborhood that was just as busy and diverse as the one where they had first gone underground.

According to their map, Bobby’s subway stop was three blocks east from where they were. As they walked those few blocks, neither of them said it but each secretly wished that the subway station where Bobby and Uncle Press had gone, wouldn’t be there. They each held a slim hope that none of this was true and that Bobby was making the whole thing up. Those hopes totally disappeared when they reached the corner of a busy intersection and looked across to the far side.

“Th-That’s it, isn’t it?” asked Mark nervously.

Courtney didn’t have to answer. The station was exactly what Bobby had described. It was a small kiosk covered with cracked green paint. Mark gave a nervous look to Courtney, but Courtney kept her eyes on the building. She didn’t want Mark to see that she was starting to get nervous. Instead, she stepped off the curb and headed for the building. Mark had no choice but to follow. When they got to the kiosk, they looked down to see a cement stairway that was covered in garbage and debris. This was definitely an abandoned station. After a quick glance around to make sure nobody was watching, they ran down the steps. They hit a landing, turned, and were faced with the boarded-up entrance that Bobby had described.

Courtney reached out, grabbed hold of one board, and pulled it aside as easily as Uncle Press had done. She had just opened up a dark doorway into the underground. Before they had the chance to change their minds, Courtney ducked in and disappeared. Mark took a scared breath and was right after her. He had to squeeze through with the pack, but he made it and closed the board up behind him. Everything was playing out exactly as it had for Bobby. But Courtney and Mark were now hoping that this is where the similarity would end. Neither of them wanted to run into Saint Dane or the quigs. They walked down the last few steps into the abandoned station and stood shoulder to shoulder, with every sense on full alert.

“I feel like I’ve already been here,” Mark said in awe. Indeed, everything was just as Bobby had described. It was a lonely station that hadn’t seen passengers in years. Then they heard the distant rumble of an oncoming subway train. In a few seconds the train blasted into the station and thundered through without slowing down. This seemed to kick them back into gear.

“C’mon,” said Courtney, and headed for the far end of the platform.

“Wait,” said Mark and quickly took off the pack. He opened it up and dug deep down inside.

“What are you doing?” asked Courtney.

As he dug through the pack Mark said, “I brought a little insurance.” He found what he was looking for and pulled out a package wrapped in brown paper.

“Was that on the list?” asked Courtney curiously.

“No, it’s a little something I added.” He unwrapped the paper to reveal two huge, succulent steaks. He held them up proudly. “A bribe, just in case we run into some hungry quigs.”

Courtney had to smile. “I don’t care what anybody says, you’re good.” She then grabbed the steaks and walked off. Mark smiled proudly at the compliment, but then the smile dropped when he realized it wasn’t exactly the greatest compliment in the world. He picked up the pack and hurried after her.

They reached the end of the platform and saw the small set of stairs leading down to the dark tracks.

“This looks hairy,” declared Mark. “What if the gate door isn’t there?”

“Everything he described so far has been true,” said Courtney. “I gotta believe this will be too.”

Just then they heard another train approaching. They took a few steps back from the edge of the platform and a few seconds later, the train flashed through, moving fast. The idea of being down on those tracks when a train came through was a frightening one.

“Gulp,” said Mark.

“Don’t think, move!” shouted Courtney. She ran to the edge of the platform and disappeared down onto the tracks. It was kind of like jumping into cold ocean water. The longer you thought about it, the more reasons you’d come up with to wait. It was better just to do it and that’s what she did.

Mark was right behind her. He ran across the platform and hurried down the stairs to find Courtney below, pressing her back against the wall.

“I can’t believe I did that,” she said, panting hard.

“Yeah, me neither, but don’t stop now,” he added.

With Courtney in the lead, the two made their way cautiously along the tunnel. It was dark and they didn’t want to risk wandering out onto the tracks so Courtney kept one hand on the grimy, greasy wall.

“How far did he say the door was?” asked Courtney.

“I don’t remember,” was Mark’s answer. “Just keep-” That’s when he heard it.

“What was that?” he asked.

“What was what?”

“I heard something, like a growl.” Mark grabbed one of the steaks back from Courtney and held it out. “Gooood doggy! Goooood doggy!”

Then Courtney heard it too. It was faint, but unmistakable.

“That’s not a growl,” she said. “That’s a train! Another train is coming!”

A blast from the train’s horn told them she was right. Another train was coming and the two were caught. They didn’t know which way to run.

“I’m going back!” shouted Mark and turned to run back for the platform. But Courtney grabbed him by the pack and held him tight.

“No!” she commanded. “We can’t be far!”

She turned and continued to make her way along the wall as Mark pushed her from behind. It was getting hard to see because the train had just rounded a curve ahead and its headlight was shining right in their eyes. And it was coming fast.

“Hurry!” pleaded Mark.

Courtney desperately felt at the wall, then tripped over a switch and fell to her knees. Mark quickly pulled her to her feet and pushed her forward. The train was now getting dangerously close. The racket from the wheels on the track was deafening. There wasn’t much space between the wall of the tunnel and the track.

“We’re not gonna make it!” Courtney shouted. “Press against the wall!”

Mark pulled off his pack and flattened his back against the wall. The train was only a few yards away. The two held hands tightly. Mark closed his eyes. Courtney pressed against the wall and slid her hand out in one last desperate attempt to find the door. She leaned forward a few more inches…and her hand found something.

“I got it!” she shouted.

The train was right there. Its horn blasted. Courtney held on tight to Mark’s hand and dove for what she hoped was the gate. She pushed against the dark recess and it gave way. Courtney and Mark tumbled inside just as the train flashed by. In seconds it was gone and all was as quiet as it had been only a few moments before. Courtney and Mark lay on the ground, totally out of breath. It took a minute for them to get their heads back together, and when they did they both looked up and saw it at the same time.

“Whoa,” was all Mark could say in awe.

It was the rocky gray tunnel. With their eyes fixed on the craggy portal, they both stood up. Courtney then hurried back to the wooden door they had just come through and poked her head outside.

“It’s here,” she announced. “The star, just like Bobby said.”

She came back inside to join Mark, who kept staring into the tunnel.

“This is it,” he said with growing excitement. “It’s all true. Everything Bobby wrote is true.”

This was as far as Bobby’s instructions took them. In his letter, he wrote for them to come to the gate and wait. But wait for what? They stood there for a few minutes, not exactly sure of what to do next. Finally Courtney looked at Mark with a mischievous smile and said, “I’m gonna try it.”

She took a step toward the mouth of the gray tunnel, but Mark pulled her back.

“Don’t!” he yelled nervously.

“Why not? If Bobby can do it, I can do it,” was her typical Courtney-esque response. She shook Mark off and stepped into the mouth of the flume. Mark backed away and watched nervously as Courtney faced the depths of the endless, dark tunnel. She stood up straight, gave a quick glance to Mark, then turned back toward the darkness and said, “Denduron!”

Nothing happened. Zero. They could hear the word echo back from the tunnel, but besides that, nothing.

“It’s gotta be the same as the ring,” said Mark. “If you’re not a Traveler, you don’t have the power.”

Courtney backed out of the tunnel with a look of definite disappointment. She was psyched to take the magic carpet ride of light that Bobby had described, but it was not meant to be. “So why is it that Bobby has the power?” she asked, a little bit peeved. “What makes him so special that-”

“Shhh!” Mark held his hand up to quiet Courtney.

“What?” asked Courtney.

“Do you hear that?”

Courtney listened and then said, “It must be another train coming.”

“No,” said Mark as he strained to listen harder. “It’s not a train. It sounds like…like…music.”

Courtney listened harder, and soon she heard it too. Itwas music. Far off music. But it wasn’t a tune. It was more like a jumble of sweet, high notes.

“I’ve heard that before,” exclaimed Mark. “When the ring opens up.” He glanced down at the ring on his finger, but the gray stone wasn’t glowing. No, this music wasn’t coming from the ring. Courtney looked into the tunnel, and what she saw made her jaw drop open in surprise.

“Uh, Mark,” she said numbly. “You looking at this?”

Mark was also looking down the tunnel and what he saw made his jaw fall open as well, for there was something coming toward them. It was a pin spot of light, like the headlight on the front of a far-off train. As it drew closer, the light grew larger and the sweet music grew louder.

“D-Do we want to run?” asked Mark with a shaky voice.

“Yeah,” answered Courtney. “But we can’t.”

As the light came nearer, they saw that the gray walls of the tunnel were beginning to change. It was like they were disappearing. The gray, craggy rock walls were transforming into clear crystal, just as the gray stone of the ring had done. Beyond the clear walls was a vast star field. The light grew so bright that Mark and Courtney had to shield their eyes. The music grew louder as well. Without thinking, the two backed away until they hit the far wall. They were trapped. It was too late to find the door and get out of there. All they could do was cover their eyes, crouch down, and hope that it would soon end.

With one final burst of light, the room fell dark and the music stopped. All was quiet and calm. Slowly Mark and Courtney lowered their arms from their faces to see what had happened. What they saw seemed more impossible than anything they had seen so far. Yet there he was, plain as can be.

It was Bobby. He stood at the mouth of the tunnel looking a little dazed. He glanced around to get his bearings, then saw Mark and Courtney cowering against the far wall. Nobody knew what to say. They all just stared at each other for a good long time. Finally Bobby let out a simple, calm, “Yo.”

That broke the ice. Mark and Courtney jumped up, ran to him and all three threw themselves into a tight group hug. They didn’t need to say anything. This one unplanned action said it all. It was a release from all the fear, uncertainty, and sadness that had been building up in them since the adventure began. They stayed this way for some time, until Bobby finally said, “Okay, I’m choking here.”

Reluctantly they all let go and took a step back from each other. They waited a second and then all three ran at each other again for another hug. This time they all started to laugh.

“You guys are the best,” said Bobby, but then something dawned on him and he pulled away from the group. He looked right at Courtney and said, “Wait, what are you doing here?”

“I showed her the journals,” admitted Mark. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t deal on my own.”

Bobby had to think about this. He thought that he was writing to Mark and Mark alone. But it was a big responsibility that he threw at his friend and Bobby realized that maybe sharing it was a good idea. If there was anybody who could help him deal, it was Courtney. So he smiled reassuringly at his friend and said, “It’s cool, Mark. I’m glad you did. Does anybody else know?”

Courtney answered, “No, just us.”

“That’s good,” said Bobby. “At first I was thinking everybody should know, but now I’m not so sure. This is all pretty heavy.”

“That’s what we thought,” said Mark.

Bobby added, “There’s gonna be a time when everybody should know, but not yet, okay?”

Courtney and Mark nodded. There were all on the same page.

“Are my parents freaking out?” Bobby asked.

There it was. The question they didn’t want to answer. Mark and Courtney gave each other a quick glance. They had already decided it wouldn’t be a good idea to tell Bobby that his family had disappeared. He had enough to worry about as it was. But they didn’t want to lie to him. Mark didn’t know what to say, so Courtney jumped in, saying, “Everybody’s real worried about you.”

It wasn’t a lie; people were definitely worried about him. It just wasn’t the whole truth. But it was the right thing to say because Bobby then said, “I hate to keep them in the dark, but I think they’d be more worried if they knew what was really going down. So don’t tell ’em anything, okay?”

Both Courtney and Mark nodded quickly. Whew. They just dodged a bullet. Bobby then spotted the L.L. Bean pack that Mark and Courtney brought.

“Did you get everything?” he asked as he quickly poked through the contents.

“Every bit,” answered Mark.

“Any trouble getting here?” Bobby asked.

Courtney answered, “No sweat.”

Bobby looked back to his friends as if he were seeing them for the first time. What he saw were two people who came through for him in a big way when they really didn’t have to. “I don’t know how to thank you guys,” he said sincerely. “I don’t deserve friends like you.”

Courtney and Mark answered with smiles.

“Bobby,” said Mark sheepishly. “Is it true? I mean, what you’ve been writing about?”

“Yeah,” was Bobby’s answer. “Weird, huh?”

Courtney and Mark started to ask more questions but Bobby cut them off by saying, “Guys, I don’t know any more about what’s going on than what I wrote. I don’t know why I’m a Traveler. I don’t know where Denduron is. I don’t knowwhen Denduron is. I’ve got a million questions and no answers. And I’m scared as hell.”

Yes, there were many questions but none of them had any answers. Finally Courtney took a step toward Bobby. She hesitated, as if what she was about to say would be difficult. She finally gathered the strength and said, “Don’t go back. That’s not your world back there. It’s not your life. You belong here. All you have to do is walk out that door with us. Nobody would know. Please, Bobby, stay here.”

Bobby looked at Mark. Mark nodded to him as if agreeing with Courtney. “You’re home now, Bobby,” he said. “Stay here.”

Bobby hadn’t thought about the possibility. It would be so easy. All he had to do was walk away. He was home now. He was safe. It was so tempting. He didn’t answer at first because this was the most important decision he ever had to make in his life. He looked around him, looked down into the dark tunnel, and then to the L.L. Bean pack full of stuff his friends had brought him. He had made up his mind.

“There are a ton of things I don’t know,” he said soberly. “But there’s one thing I do know for certain. Uncle Press is going to die unless I do something.”

The others dropped their heads. Bobby was right. If he stayed, Uncle Press was doomed.

“But there’s more,” Bobby added. “I’m not the guy to help those people fight their revolution. I don’t know why they think I am, but I’m not. The guy to help them is Uncle Press. If he dies, they don’t stand a chance. I gotta go back and get Uncle Press for the sake of the Milago, too.”

Bobby picked up the pack and swung it onto his back.

“What’re you gonna do with that stuff?” asked Mark.

“I’m not exactly sure,” answered Bobby, “but I better think of something fast.” He tightened up the straps on the pack and took a step back toward the flume. “I’m no big hero,” he then said. “I’m gonna try to save Uncle Press and then get out of there. I’d just as soon not stick around for the real fireworks.”

“We’ll be waiting for you,” said Mark.

Everyone looked at each other, not entirely sure of what to say. It was time for Bobby to go.

“There’s nothing I can say to thank you guys for doing this and for hanging on to my journals,” Bobby said.

“Just keep ’em coming, dude,” said Mark with a smile.

Bobby smiled and then the three once again joined in a group hug.

“I’ll write as soon as I can,” said Bobby and pulled away. Everyone was holding back tears. Bobby had turned to the flume when Courtney asked, “Is Loor really as gorgeous as all that?”

Bobby winced. Busted. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” he said sheepishly. “She’s not my type.”

“No?” said Courtney with a sly smile. “I think she and I have something in common. We can both kick your ass.”

Bobby laughed at that. Of course she was right.

“Get home safe,” she added.

“Soon as I can,” was his reply. Mark gave him a wave and Bobby turned back to the flume. He stepped in, took a breath, and said, “Denduron!”

Instantly, the flume reactivated. The walls started to shimmer, the musical notes grew loud, and bright light blasted out from somewhere far inside.

Bobby turned back to them and gave a quick wave. “Later!” he said.

Then, in a flash, Bobby was gone. The light and the music trailed away inside the tunnel, transporting Bobby to his far-off destination. Soon all was quiet once again. The two stood there, staring into the dark, empty tunnel. There was nothing left to do now except to start the long journey home.

“Uh-oh,” Mark said.

“What?” asked Courtney nervously.

Mark held out his hand and they both saw that the gray stone in the ring was starting to glow. Mark quickly took it off and placed it down on the ground. They each took a step back and watched as the ring grew larger and light blasted out of the stone. The familiar musical notes were heard again as the light built in intensity. There was a flash, and just as quickly as it started, it was over. The ring lay still on the ground. Next to it was another rolled-up parchment.

“How could he have written so fast?” asked Courtney.

Mark picked up the pages and started to unfurl them.

“Something tells me that time here and time there aren’t relative,” said Mark.

“Huh? English please,” demanded Courtney.

“I think Denduron might not only be in another place,” explained Mark. “It might be in another time. It could be thousands of years ago, or a million years from now. The flumes not only travel through space, I’ll bet they travel through time as well.”

Courtney didn’t quite get this, but then again she didn’t get much of anything that was happening. Mark unfurled the pages, gave them a quick glance, then looked up at Courtney with a smile.

“I was right. It’s from Bobby.”