Uh-oh. Uncle Press stiffened beside me. The hair began to stand up on my neck. I was afraid I knew exactly where this was going and it was a very, very bad place.
“How could you know?” Spader asked, dumbfounded. He had no clue what was going on, but he was about to find out.
Nassi looked to Uncle Press and gave him a catlike grin.
“Ahh, Press. Don’t you just love them when they’re young?” she asked. “Such . . . innocence.”
And then it happened. The agronomer Nassi began to transform before our eyes. Her face contorted, her body shifted, her whole figure grew watery and unformed. It only took about five seconds, but I guarantee they were five seconds that Spader would replay in his mind for the rest of his life. I probably would too, but I had seen it before. Her hair grew long and gray. Her body rose to a solid seven feet tall. Her clothes changed from Cloral blue to the black suit that was all too familiar. And again, what stood out most were the eyes. They became icy blue and charged with an evil fire.
“Does it make more sense to you now, water boy?” snarled the tall, ominous figure.
Spader looked at me with total confusion.
“It’s Saint Dane,” I said with no emotion. “He’s been playing with us all along.”
JOURNAL #7
(CONTINUED)
CLORAL
“You naughty boys, you sank my battleship,” Saint Dane said playfully, as if he really didn’t care.
Spader looked to me and to Uncle Press. I think he was in shock. Nothing had prepared him for seeing Saint Dane transform the way he did. I wasn’t exactly comfortable with it either, but at least I had seen it before so I didn’t go into total mind lock.
“The poison fertilizer?” asked Uncle Press. “Was it your doing?”
Saint Dane let out an evil laugh. Here we go again. I hate it when the bad guys laugh. It always means they know more than you do.
“You give me too much credit, Press, my friend,” Saint Dane said. “You know I don’t initiate anything.”
“But you don’t mind helping it along,” Uncle Press added.
“Of that, I am guilty. That weasel Manoo and his agronomers would have abandoned their experiments years ago if I hadn’t convinced them otherwise. It was so easy to feed their egos. I told them they would be heroes for saving Cloral from starvation for generations to come!” He laughed ironically. “They were too blinded by visions of glory to realize they were brewing up the means to kill every living soul on the territory. Surprise!”
“So you did kill my father,” Spader spat at Saint Dane.
“Indirectly, I suppose,” Saint Dane said, beginning to sound bored. “But we’re all much better off with one less Traveler, don’t you think?”
This pushed Spader over the edge. He lunged at Saint Dane, ready to grab his throat. But Saint Dane pulled a quick draw from under his coat and jammed a silver pistol into Spader’s chest, stopping him cold. Spader’s eyes were wild with hatred, but there was nothing he could do.
“Talk to Pendragon,” Saint Dane said calmly. “He knows you can’t defeat me.”
“No?” I jumped in. “What about Denduron?”
Saint Dane turned to look at me for the first time. His cold blue eyes gave me a chill.
“A minor inconvenience,” he said. “This game has only begun, Pendragon.”
“Game?” shouted Spader. “You killed hundreds of people. This isn’t a game!”
“But of course it is,” answered Saint Dane. And with that he began to transform again. His body grew liquid, he shrank slightly, and when the change was complete, standing before us was Zy Roder, the raider pilot.
“This is very much a game,” he said with a different, raspier voice. “And the stakes are high indeed!”
At that moment the door flew open from the hallway and several more raiders entered the apartment. They all held silver guns like the one Roder/Saint Dane had. Any thoughts we had about escaping had just gotten very dim.
“Now,” said Roder/Saint Dane. “I have a question for you. Tell me what you know about this place called ‘Faar.’”
We all did our best not to look at each other.
“Faar is a children’s story,” Spader finally answered. “What is it you want to know?”
Roder/Saint Dane jammed his silver gun into Spader’s chest, making him wince in pain.
“Please don’t waste my time trying to be coy,” Roder/Saint Dane said. “I saw the symbol of Faar on your father’s desk.”
“I knew that he’d been searching for Faar,” he continued. “But when I saw the symbol, I knew he’d been successful.”
“You were there?” I said, stunned. “On Magorran?”
“To be precise, Po Nassi was there,” he chuckled. “Only seconds before you three arrived.”
I got the feeling that Saint Dane loved fooling people with his little charades.
I really hated this guy.
He then looked directly into Spader’s eyes and said, “Your father discovered Faar and passed the information to you, didn’t he?”
Spader didn’t move. He wasn’t about to give Roder/Saint Dane the two pieces of map. No way. But Roder/Saint Dane flashed forward with his free hand and grabbed Spader around the neck. Both Uncle Press and I made a move to stop him, but the other raiders jumped between us, holding us back.
“Tell me,” Roder/Saint Dane seethed. His strength was incredible because he lifted Spader off the ground with only one hand. “Tell me what you know, or I’ll first kill Pendragon, then Press, and then I’ll go back to Grallion and see what mischief we can get into there. The only one I won’t kill is you. You’ll have to live knowing they died because you wouldn’t tell me what I will find out soon enough anyway.”
Spader was turning blue. Both Uncle Press and I struggled to get away from the raiders, but it was no use. There was nothing we could do to help Spader.
Then, slowly, Spader reached into his pocket for the map.
“Don’t!” I shouted. But it was too late. Spader pulled out the two map halves and tossed them on the ground. Instantly Roder/Saint Dane threw him down and Spader collapsed on the floor, gasping for breath. Another raider picked up the two pieces of paper and handed them to Roder/Saint Dane. The evil Traveler held the two pieces together and studied them for a few seconds.
He then let out a smile and said, “It’s so simple. Thank you, Spader. Now Cloral has absolutely no hope of fighting off the plague I’ve nurtured for so long.”
Huh? What did a mythical lost city have to do with the killer fertilizer that was spreading across the territory?
Boom! A gunshot sounded from out in the hallway that sent the raiders scrambling for cover. I can’t believe I acted as fast as I did, but in the one second of confusion, I lunged forward and grabbed the two pieces of the map from Roder/Saint Dane.
Boom! Boom! Two more gunshots. Though they weren’t exactly gunshots. Remember how I described the way the water cannons on the battleship fired compact missiles of water? As it turned out, that’s exactly what all the guns on Cloral fired. And right now, standing out in the hallway was Wu Yenza and two aquaneers. I wasn’t sure how they knew we were in trouble, but I didn’t care.
The water bullets they fired hit the walls and exploded, doing more damage than any bullet could.
“Drop your weapons!” shouted Yenza.
While Roder/Saint Dane and the other raiders ducked for cover, Uncle Press grabbed Spader and me and pulled us into the back room. The raiders were too busy defending themselves to come after us.
“Is there another way out?” Uncle Press shouted.
“There’s a ledge, all the way around the building,” gasped Spader, still trying to get his breath back from nearly being strangled.
“Show us!”
From the other room I heard the booming sounds of more water missiles hitting the walls. One shot blasted right through a wall and into the room we were in, missing me by a foot. These weren’t like any water pistols I??
?d ever played with!
Spader threw open a window and leaped out. Uncle Press pushed me toward the window to go next. I hesitated. I was never good with heights and we were on the fifth floor. Yikes. But there was no other choice. There were more raiders than aquaneers outside. As soon as the bad guys realized that, they’d be coming after us. So I put my fear aside and climbed out the window.
There was a two-foot-wide ledge that went all around the building. Normally two feet would be plenty wide enough to walk on. But when you’re five stories in the air, it feels more like two inches. I looked down and started getting dizzy.
“Go!” shouted Uncle Press. “He was already out behind me and pushing me to follow Spader.
Spader was moving quickly ahead of me, approaching the corner of the building. I took two steps and—
Boom! A piece of wall blasted out in front of me, spewing splintered bits of building everywhere. Suddenly I wasn’t worried about the height anymore and started to run. More blasts of water missile blew out chunks of building just behind Uncle Press. If we stopped, we’d get blasted off the ledge.
Spader reached the corner and made the turn. I was right behind him. We were now on the far side of the building from where the battle was taking place. Spader found a window and jumped inside. For a moment I thought we were going to drop in on some unsuspecting guy taking a nap or something, but luckily we found ourselves in a stairwell.
“Go down the stairs!” Spader ordered. But rather than lead us down, he headed back toward the corridor where the fight was going on. Uncle Press grabbed him.
“What are you doing?” he shouted.
“Going after Saint Dane!”
He tried to pull away from Uncle Press, but my uncle held him firm.
“Listen, Spader,” Uncle Press said. “You just had a taste of what we’ve been telling you about. Saint Dane has powers that you are no match for.”
“Not to mention the gunfight going on,” I added. “You go back there, you’re history.”
Spader was torn. His blood was boiling and he wanted a piece of Saint Dane—bad.
“We told you before,” Uncle Press continued with a calm voice, trying to talk Spader down. “There’s a bigger battle to be fought here. You heard what he said about Faar. It could be the last piece in the puzzle for destroying Cloral. Which do you think is more important? Going back in there and getting killed, or doing what your father wanted you to do?”
Spader looked up at my uncle with questioning eyes.
Uncle Press then said, “Let’s go find the Lost City of Faar.”
Boom! Like an exclamation point on his sentence, a water missile ripped through the door to the corridor. The raiders were coming after us. But Spader was with the program now. He knew what we had to do.
“C’mon!” he yelled, and bolted down the stairs. We all flew down, taking three stairs at a time. I thought I was going to take a tumble and break my neck, which would have been a really stupid thing to do at this point. But speed was everything now, so I kept going.
We blasted out a side door to the apartment building and went on a dead run for the canal and the skimmers. As we rounded the building, I saw that Yenza and the two aquaneers were backing out of the front door, still firing their water guns at the raiders. I really hoped there were no innocent bystanders in the way.
“Yenza!” yelled Uncle Press.
The chief aquaneer looked up and saw that we were out of the building. She immediately gave a command to the other aquaneers. They gave up on the fight and joined the sprint for the skimmers. As we ran across the grass toward the canal, small water bombs kicked up the dirt at our feet. I didn’t have to turn around to know the raiders were now out of the building and after us. I could only hope that we were far enough away that their guns wouldn’t be accurate enough to do any damage.
We all hit the canal at about the same time and jumped on the skimmers to make our escape. Nobody had to say a word. Uncle Press and I were on one, Spader and Yenza on another, the two aquaneers on a third.
The skimmers all whined to life. We were seconds away from blasting off. Then Spader turned around and actually gave me a smile.
“Last one back to the speeder buys the sniggers.” For a second, the old Spader had returned. He gunned the engine and took off. Uncle Press gunned ours, too, and the aquaneers were right behind. With the water around boiling from the incoming rain of water missiles, all three skimmers blasted off and away from the raiders.
The dash back to the dock was hairy, but not because of the raiders. As I wrote before, the canals were busy. But this time nobody cared. With Spader in the lead, we all flew over the water, dodging other skimmers like gates in a ski race. I wondered if there was a Panger City highway patrol that would pull us over for reckless skimming. Luckily, there weren’t any accidents, though we had a ton of close calls.
It wasn’t until we made it back to the canal near the docks that we could all finally take a breath. Or at least a half breath because this race was only just beginning. We tied up the skimmers and headed for the dock.
“How did you know to follow us?” Uncle Press asked Yenza as we ran.
“It was Nassi,” she answered. “I never trusted that woman. As soon as you left to follow Spader, she went after you.”
“You saved our lives, Yenza,” he said. “Thank you.”
Yenza then stopped on the side of the busy street and faced the three of us. The aquaneers stood behind her, ready for anything. Yenza was used to calling all the shots and I didn’t think she liked being out of the loop, especially when it meant having to battle raiders. “You were talking to Zy Roder like you knew him. What is going on?”
The three of us exchanged looks. How could we possibly explain any of this to her? It was Uncle Press who took a shot at it.
“Po Nassi was working with Zy Roder,” he explained.
Technically, Po Nassi was Zy Roder, but Uncle Press made the wise decision not to go down that road. Good thinking.
“She knew exactly what she was doing,” he continued.
“She knew the fertilizer was poison. Spader’s father was working with me to investigate this horror . . . until he died.”
“Po Nassi was deliberately trying to poison Cloral?” she asked in shock. “Why?”
“That’s tougher to answer, but it’s true. We’ve got to leave Panger City right away. Where is Manoo?”
“I’m right here!”
The little elf-man hurried to us from the building that led to the docks. He looked all sorts of angry and upset.
“Where have you been?” he demanded.
“Did you get to the Agronomy Society?” Yenza asked, ignoring his question.
“Yes,” Manoo answered nervously. “But it’s too late!”
“What do you mean?” Yenza demanded.
“The fertilizer,” whined Manoo. “It’s been sent all over Cloral. Almost every underwater farm is using it right now. Our entire food supply is going to be poisoned! It’s a total disaster!”
How’s that for a horrifying news item? Saint Dane’s plan had kicked into high gear and Manoo was out of his mind with worry.
Welcome to the party, Manoo and I’ve been out of my mind for a while now.
“Get back to the Agronomy Society,” Uncle Press ordered Manoo. “Make sure they track down and stop every shipment. Can you do that?”
“I suppose,” answered Manoo. “But who are you to tell me—”
“Just do it, Manoo!” barked Yenza.
She called to the two aquaneers, “Make sure this man gets back to the Agronomy Society safely.”
The aquaneers both offered a crisp salute and stood ready to go with Manoo. Yenza took Manoo by both arms in a warm gesture of trust and friendship.
“Do what you can, Manoo. Hobey-ho.”
Manoo stood up straight as if the entire fate of Cloral were now resting on his shoulders. He was now on a mission, and he took it seriously.
“Let’s go!” he s
houted to the aquaneers, and the three took off.
Yenza then turned back to Uncle Press and said, “And why must we leave Panger City?”
Uncle Press looked to me and held out his hand. I knew exactly what he wanted and handed him the two pieces of map.
“Ever hear of the Lost City of Faar?”
In minutes we were back on the speeder boat, blasting away from Panger City, bound for, well, the plan was to head for the Lost City of Faar, but at the time it seemed like we were chasing a fairy tale.
When we put the two pieces of the map together, this is what we saw: The horizontal solid line that was a third of the way up from the bottom on the left half of the map continued on to the right half of the map all the way to the far side. The curved line that began at the lower left corner formed a complete semicircle with another curved line on the other half. It was now a wide, upside-down smile beneath the horizontal line. The spray of dots that was above the horizontal line on the left half of the map was also on the right half. Finally, the series of numbers from the left half continued on to the right.
We had no idea what the horizontal line or the semicircle beneath it or all the dots meant, but Spader and Yenza knew what the numbers meant. They were map coordinates that marked a very specific point in the ocean. We now had a location, but it was a long way off from Panger City. Their best guess was that it would take us all night to get there, even with the speeder boat throttled up to the maximum. Spader set the course and locked it into the speeder’s automatic pilot to make sure we wouldn’t stray. When traveling that long of a distance, even a minor error could have sent us way off course. Unless something bizarro happened, by morning we would be at the exact spot where the map said we would find the Lost City of Faar.
I was excited, but also pretty doubtful. The idea of finding a lost, sunken city seemed pretty far-fetched. But as Loor said, after all we’d seen, nothing was impossible.
I also hoped that Saint Dane had a lousy memory. He had only looked at the map for a few seconds before Yenza and the aquaneers came in with their waterguns blazing. Hopefully he’d forget a number in the coordinates, or switch two, or mess up something else that would send him in the wrong direction. That’s what I hoped for, but I didn’t think for a second that it would happen. I knew that Saint Dane now had the same information we did. The real question was how quickly he could catch up. It was going to be a race, but a race to what?