“The who?”

  “The guy in charge of the passengers. He can tell us what cabin Mark is in. Once we know that, we’ll go there, grab him, and get him off the ship with time to spare.”

  “Wait, you want us to board the ship?” Courtney exclaimed, horrified.

  “It’s okay. Families and friends are let on during boarding to get the lowdown on the ship. They get bounced before shove-off. Trust me.”

  Dodger dragged her to an official in uniform who looked to Courtney like a naval officer. He stood at the bottom of the gangway with a clipboard, checking off names. Dodger ran up to him and spoke with a British accent. “’Ello, guvna! Got here just in time to see me brother off, we did!”

  Courtney thought it was the worst British accent she had ever heard.

  The officer gave Dodger a sour look. He didn’t think much of the accent either. But he was polite and helpful. “And what would your brother’s name be, lad?”

  “It would be Dimond,” Dodger answered, his accent getting worse. “Mark Dimond. He’s an inventor, he is! Going back to Merry Old to make his fortune!”

  The officer scanned his clipboard. Courtney bit her lip nervously. She wished Dodger had just spoken normally. Was the lie going to work? Was Mark even on the passenger list? Dodger gave her a sideways look. He may have been putting on a confident air, but he was just as nervous as she was.

  “Right!” the officer finally announced. “Mark Dimond.”

  “Has he boarded yet?” Courtney asked excitedly, with no British accent.

  “Yes, he has. You’ve just enough time to wish him well.”

  “What’s his cabin, guvna?” Dodger asked.

  “Afraid I don’t have that information, lad. You might want to check with the purser’s office on board.”

  “That we will! Thank ya, guvna!” Dodger tipped his cap and pulled Courtney on to the gangway. The two ran quickly up the incline.

  The officer yelled after them, “Be quick about it! We sail in twenty!”

  “Will do, guvna!” Dodger yelled back.

  “What is this ‘guvna’?” Courtney asked sarcastically.

  “Hey, no complainin’. It got us on, didn’t it?”

  The two boarded the ship and found themselves on a deck called “Promenade.” It was even busier than the pier. Between the excited passengers, the porters, the crew, the band, the family members and friends wishing a bon voyage, it was a jammed madhouse.

  Dodger grabbed one of the ship’s officers by the arm and asked, “We’re looking for our brother to say good-bye. How do we find his cabin?” Courtney was relieved that he had dropped the lousy accent.

  “Try the purser’s office,” the officer said. “Forward on this deck to the Regent Street shops. From there take the lift down one level and you’ll find it.”

  The two bolted without taking time to thank him. They needed every possible second. It was like trying to fight their way through a 1930s version of a rave. People were dressed elegantly, as if attending a grand ball, not an ocean cruise. Everyone had excited smiles and spoke a bit too loud. They found the place called “Regent Street,” which was lined with elegant shops and was already teeming with people. The shops sold jewelry and crystal and knickknacks of all sorts. Courtney had never been aboard a luxury ship of any kind and couldn’t believe these stores actually existed on a ship.

  Chimes sounded.

  “What’s that?” Courtney asked.

  “Don’t know, don’t care,” Dodger declared. He was on a mission, but getting through the mass of people was nearly impossible. They ran into an elderly woman who was coming out of a jewelry shop. She had a small white poodle on a leash who looked every bit as anxious as Courtney and Dodger.

  “Oh!” the old woman screamed as if they had just knocked her down and beaten her.

  Instantly her little dog started barking. And barking. And barking.

  “Sorry, sorry!” Courtney apologized.

  The woman looked at them as though they were prison escapees.

  “This is not an area for hooligans!” the woman bellowed. “Officer!”

  She raised her hand, summoning one of the ship’s officers as if he were her personal servant.

  “What’s the problem, mum?” he asked, tipping his uniform cap.

  “These ruffians should be escorted to…to…somewhere else,” she bellowed haughtily.

  Courtney froze. She squeezed Dodger’s hand.

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” she said under her breath.

  “Not yet,” Dodger said. He turned to the officer and said with his most polite voice, “Sorry for the disturbance, sir, but we’re looking for our brother, who’s sailing with you today. Perhaps we don’t belong on this deck, but we’re sure that our brother does and OWWW!”

  Courtney squeezed Dodger’s hand again. “Now!” she hissed under her breath.

  “Too late to see him off now, I’m afraid,” the officer said. “All ashore that’s going ashore. Please make your way back to the gangway.”

  “Yes,” the elderly woman added. “Sooner rather than later.”

  “No problem!” Courtney said, and pulled Dodger away. She didn’t pull him toward the gangway. She brought him deeper into the ship.

  “What are you doin’?” he complained. “We gotta get off the ship.”

  “We can’t!” Courtney squealed.

  “Why not?” Dodger asked.

  Courtney lifted her hand. Her ring was glowing. In seconds it would be shooting out light and music for the hundreds of people around them to see.

  Dodger didn’t hesitate. He grabbed her hand and the two quickly made their way through the mass of excited people, making no friends as they slammed into most every person they passed. Dodger kept glancing around, looking for a place to go. Any place to go.

  “There!” Courtney shouted.

  They were in a lounge area. Near them was an open door leading to somewhere. It didn’t matter where. They had to get away from the crowd. They blasted through the door to find themselves in a pantry where white-smocked waiters hurried through with drinks for the passengers.

  Courtney clamped her hand over the ring to try and keep the light from leaking out. They ran to the end of the pantry and into a small kitchen. The crew was too busy to notice them or care. Courtney knew that in a few seconds they’d see a show that would make them notice and care a whole lot. Dodger pulled Courtney to a door on the far end of the kitchen that had a heavy, metal handle.

  “Cold storage, just like at the hotel,” Dodger said. “We might get lucky.”

  They did. He pulled the door open. Nobody was inside. Courtney jumped in and yanked on an overhead chain. A single bulb burned to life. Dodger closed the door behind them. A quick look around showed they were in a vegetable locker. There were hundreds of heads of lettuce, piles of carrots, and bags of onions—enough to prepare thousands of meals for the passengers and crew of the floating hotel. While Dodger stood at the door, ready to throw out anybody who came in looking for a potato, Courtney took off the ring and placed it on the deck. It had already grown to three times its size and was shooting out light that flooded the small space. The music grew louder. Courtney hoped the refrigerator door was soundproof. Lightproof, too. They covered their eyes as the ring performed its familiar task. Moments later it was over. Dodger and Courtney looked at the deck to see the ring had returned to normal. Another watertight pouch lay next to it. Bobby’s next journal from Ibara had arrived.

  “Get it!” Dodger said as he went for the door. “Let’s go!”

  “No,” Courtney said calmly.

  “Wadda you mean no? The ships gonna shove off!”

  “We haven’t found Mark yet.”

  “I know, but—” He stopped himself. “You’re not thinking…?”

  “Yeah, I am,” Courtney answered. She calmly bent down and picked up Bobby’s journal, along with her ring. “I’m going on a cruise. I’d understand if you took off, but I can’t.”

>   “We’d be stowaways!” Dodger complained. “They’ll arrest us and…and…I don’t know what they’ll do, but I’d lose my job at the hotel for sure.”

  “Probably,” Courtney said. “But if this ship sails without me, it means Mark will die, history will be changed, and the dados will infest the territories. I don’t want you to lose your job, but if Saint Dane has his way and the Earth territories are changed, I can’t guarantee you’d find yourself in a world where the Manhattan Tower Hotel even exists.”

  Dodger had to think about that one. He frowned. “I gotta tell ya, when Gunny asked me to help the guy who showed up with that ring, I wasn’t expecting this.”

  Courtney shrugged.

  Dodger exhaled and nodded in resignation. He leaned against a shelf and slid down to the deck. “Might as well get comfortable.”

  Courtney smiled and sat down next to him, clutching Bobby’s journal. She leaned into Dodger and said, “Thanks.”

  Dodger shrugged. “Hey, don’t go gettin’ all mushy on me now.”

  “Wouldn’t think of it,” Courtney replied.

  She didn’t read the journal right away. Courtney knew they first had to find a place that was safe, assuming there was such a place on board a busy ship for a couple of stowaways. They waited for half an hour. Plenty of time for the excitement to die down. They might have stayed longer, if the door to the cold storage closet hadn’t opened up. A chef stepped in with a large silver bowl, ready to grab some vegetables. When he saw Courtney and Dodger, he froze.

  Courtney exclaimed, “Thank goodness! We thought we’d be stuck in here the whole voyage!” She walked past him and gave the surprised chef a peck on the cheek. “Thanks!” she said, and walked out.

  The chef was dumbstruck. “Thanks, brother,” Dodger said as he walked by. “Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna kiss ya!” They left the chef standing in the refrigerator, too confused to move.

  There was no longer any rush. It was more important to blend in. Courtney and Dodger slowly made their way through the kitchen, the pantry, and the dining room. Once they got back to the passenger area, they noticed that the number of people had thinned considerably. Everyone who had been on board to visit had left. The only people remaining were passengers and crew. People who belonged on the ship.

  And them.

  They walked casually through Regent Street with its busy shops, headed for the Promenade Deck where they’d first boarded the ship. The sun hit them as soon as they stepped out onto the deck. The first thing Courtney saw was the pier. It was the pier that Saint Dane had driven the cab off of, with them inside. The pier where they first saw the Queen Mary. The pier that was now several hundred yards away.

  The ship had left New York. Two tugboats were nudging it away from land, into New York Harbor and the Atlantic Ocean. They were on their way to England. They stood at the railing and watched as New York grew smaller.

  “What are you thinking?” Dodger asked.

  “I’m thinking I want to read a journal.”

  JOURNAL #30

  IBARA

  You must find Mark.

  Courtney, I think I made a huge mistake by coming to Ibara. After seeing what’s happening on this territory, the reality of what Saint Dane has accomplished is now clear. Scary clear. Our fears were correct. It isn’t about single territories anymore. Saint Dane is tearing down the boundaries of Halla. I don’t think I’ve made things worse by coming here, but I haven’t helped much either. The truth is that I should be on First Earth, with you, looking for Mark. You were right. Saint Dane lured me to Ibara and I followed him like a hungry rat sniffing cheese.

  Cheese in a trap.

  Right now I’m so confused, it’s hard to think straight. When we were together on First Earth I told you I thought it was too late to undo what Mark had done. I hope I was wrong. The future of Halla depends on it. That’s not an overstatement. Stopping Mark may be the key to stopping Saint Dane.

  How could I have been so dumb as to not know that? I guess that’s a lame question. I know why. It’s my own ego. I keep saying that in order to control Halla, Saint Dane needs to defeat me. I still think that’s true, but after matching wits with him for so long, I’m as obsessed with beating him as he is with me. He’s gotten into my head, Courtney. It’s become a contest between the two of us. That’s wrong. What matters is the big picture. I’ve wanted to bring him down so badly, I’ve ignored that. That’s why I’m on Ibara when I should have stayed on First Earth. While I’m chasing after one single guy, he’s busy manipulating all that exists.

  Our first instincts were correct. Mark must be stopped. It might be the only way to save Halla. The thing is, it may be too late already. I don’t know when First Earth exists, relative to other territories. Yes, it’s in the past of Second and Third Earths, but do the rest of the territories exist in the future of First Earth? Or before it? Or do some exist before and some after? I have no idea. Wondering makes my head hurt.

  When I left First Earth, I said the most important thing was to save Mark from whatever fate dealt him. Of course I still want my friend, our friend, saved. But given what I’ve seen on Ibara, I also want him stopped. The only chance we have of defeating Saint Dane, once and for all, is to prevent Mark from introducing Forge technology to First Earth. To understand why, you’ll have to read this journal.

  Read it fast.

  I’m sorry, Courtney. I’m sorry for leaving you alone and being too stupid to realize I should have listened to you. I’m also sorry for laying it out to you like this and throwing such a huge responsibility onto your shoulders. I know you’re doing everything you can to find Mark, but I can’t tell you strongly enough that it isn’t just about saving him. It’s about stopping him.

  I’ve already finished this journal. I started it a while ago before I understood what was actually happening here and came back to the beginning to tell you this. Not that you need convincing, but once you read this journal I think you’ll understand as well as I do that you, Courtney, you are the last best hope to save Halla.

  I hope it isn’t too late already.

  Siry and I left the rocky ledge that overlooked the colorful fleet of sailing ships and made our way back to the village of Rayne. I needed rest badly. Food, too. When we reached the edge of the village, Siry stopped and stood in front of me.

  “Are you with us?” he asked.

  “When do we go?” was my answer.

  “When everyone is able,” he answered. “The wounded Jakills have to recover.”

  I nodded. He glared at me and cautioned, “If you tell the tribunal of our plans…” He let the threat dangle.

  “Still don’t trust me?” I asked.

  He shrugged and walked away.

  “One thing,” I called after him. “Jakill. What does that mean?”

  He shook his head. He wasn’t telling. “You’re right,” he replied. “I don’t trust you. Not yet.”

  Fine. Be that way. The one thing on my mind was sleep. I was so beat, I had trouble lifting my feet and dragging them through the sand. Since my hut had been turned into a makeshift hospital for the Jakills, I wasn’t sure if I should go there, but I didn’t know where else to go. When I returned, I saw that I didn’t have to worry. The injured Jakills were gone. Only Telleo was waiting for me.

  “Where are they?” I asked.

  “I did what I could for them and helped them to their homes. They will recover. Are you hungry?”

  “I should be polite and say you don’t have to go through any trouble, but I’m starving.”

  “I thought so,” Telleo said warmly. “I’ve prepared some roasted vegetables and broth.”

  The two of us sat at the wooden table and ate an incredible dinner. Actually it probably wasn’t all that great, but I was so hungry I could have eaten the table and thought it was a gourmet treat. By the time my belly was full, I was ready to drift off to sleep for about a month. But that would have been rude.

  “Tell me about yourself,” I said to
Telleo. “You work for the tribunal but you risk your job by helping the Jakills. Isn’t that playing the game from both sides?”

  “I don’t look at it that way,” Telleo said. “I love this village and my people. That’s all. Siry and his friends are part of the village. I don’t discriminate.”

  “I heard that about you.”

  Telleo blushed and continued, “I don’t understand why Siry is so angry. Does it seem to you like there is something wrong with the way we live?”

  “I think it’s wrong to keep the truth from people. Don’t you ever wonder what else exists out there? Beyond this island?”

  “No,” Telleo answered quickly. “I can’t imagine a better life than this one.”

  “But that’s your choice. I’m not saying I agree with them, but Siry and the Jakills want more choices. They want to know what else this world has to offer.”

  Telleo shrugged. “I guess I’m selfish. I worry there might be something out there that will change Rayne.”

  “Or there might be something incredible that will make your lives even better.”

  “I don’t see how.”

  “Aren’t you even a little bit curious?”

  “I’m curious about the Flighters,” Telleo answered. “It bothers me that they’re getting bolder.”

  “Don’t you think it would be smart to find out who they are? Maybe they could be stopped.”

  “The island security will protect us,” she said softly.

  Man, she was pretty trusting. “What about the tribunal?” I asked. “Siry says they’re keeping secrets from the people.”

  Telleo looked stung. “I believe the tribunal tells us what we need to know. Why worry about things we can’t change?”

  “But don’t you want to know about your history? Where you came from?”

  “Life is about the future, not the past.”

  “You can learn from the past!”

  “Things are wonderful in Rayne,” Telleo snapped, getting a little testy. “What could we learn that would improve on perfection?”

  “But—”

  “Besides,” she interrupted, “I trust my father.”