The Merchant of Death

Journal #4 (continued)

Denduron

Iprobably would have slept on that beach for weeks if I hadn’t been gently nudged awake by something tapping at my foot. As I slowly pulled out of slumberland, I remembered that giant freakin’ shark in the flume. I felt the tapping on my foot again and somehow made the connection between that feeling and the shark. Suddenly I was convinced that the shark had survived and was getting ready to bite off my feet. So I yelped and jumped up while pulling my legs closer for protection.

Of course it wasn’t the shark. It was Loor. She was awake and trying to rouse me. She hadn’t expected my dramatic reaction though, and when I jumped, she did too.

“I am sorry, Pendragon,” she said sheepishly. “I did not know you were ticklish.”

Ticklish? I was too embarrassed to tell her why I really jumped. “No problem,” I said. “How do you feel?”

She rubbed the nasty black and blue mark on her forehead and grimaced.

“My head does not hurt as much as my pride,” she said.

“What do you remember?” I asked.

“There was something coming at us from the flume, but what I remember does not make sense.”

“Yeah, it does,” I said. “It was a shark. Saint Dane didn’t want us to follow him.”

Loor thought about this for a moment. I think she was hoping that her memory was a bad dream. “After that I do not remember much,” she continued. “But I do have memories of you carrying me. Was that a dream?”

“No, it wasn’t,” I said.

Loor frowned. At some point I would give her all the gory details of our escape, but now wasn’t the time. Loor was a proud warrior. It hurt her ego that it took a weakling like me to save her. I didn’t need to rub salt in the wound. Not yet anyway. Believe me, at some point I was going to get mileage out of this, but not now.

“You continue to surprise me, Pendragon,” she said. “You have proven yourself to be brave and clever, and now it seems you react as a warrior would after all.” She paused, and then said, “Thank you.”

She had just given me the highest praise she was capable of. In her mind I was worthy of being elevated to the lofty status of warrior. I wasn’t sure I agreed with her though. I was no warrior. Everything I did was out of total panic. I never felt as if I had a choice. In fact, I’d just as soon she didn’t consider me a warrior because I didn’t want her to expect any more heroics. As far as I was concerned, my Indiana Jones days were over. But I couldn’t say that so I gave her the simplest, best response possible.

“You’re welcome.”

I wondered if she had also forgiven me for the death of her mother, but I wasn’t about to go there. Loor looked out toward the water. The Bedoowan palace was a giant wreck that barely poked above the surface. Small waves lapped over it and a few seagulls explored its walls. In time the sea would eat away the stone and this mighty symbol of Bedoowan power would turn to sand. But right now it served as a reminder of the fall of the mighty Bedoowan. It was a perfect monument to their destruction.

“Do you think many Bedoowan died?” asked Loor.

“I don’t know,” was my answer. “I think most of them left to watch the battle. They’re going to get a big surprise when they go back home though.”

“It is sad,” Loor said.

She was right. The Bedoowan were a pretty advanced culture for this place. They could have used their knowledge to improve all of Denduron, but instead they chose to use their power and knowledge to enslave others. The truth was, none of this would have happened if the Bedoowan hadn’t abused the Milago. Saint Dane may have pushed it along, but the Bedoowan were already on the path. They had brought this on themselves.

“What of the tak mine?” Loor asked.

“It was a hell of a show,” I said. “I’ll bet that every ounce of tak was blown away. I don’t think we have to worry about the Milago using it anymore.”

Loor then turned and looked me right in the eye. “If the explosion did this to the palace,” she said soberly, “then what of the Milago village?”

That was a good question. My thoughts went immediately to Uncle Press and to Alder. Had they survived? I looked up toward the towering bluffs.

“We’ve got to climb up,” I said, not really wanting to.

We walked to the bluffs and searched for the best way up. This was going to be tough. It was steep and treacherous.

“I can climb rock,” suggested Loor. “I will braid a rope with vines and we will tie ourselves together for safety. It will be dangerous, but we can make it.”

“That sounds good,” I said while slowly scanning the bluffs. “Or we could take that path over there.”

Loor looked to the path I was pointing to. It was narrow and there were dozens of switchbacks because it was so steep, but it was definitely a path.

“Oh,” said Loor. “That could work too.”

“C’mon,” I said with a smile, and started for the path. Loor followed silently.

The hike up wasn’t horrible. The switchbacks kept the path from getting too steep, but made the trek very long. We didn’t talk much as we climbed. I can’t speak for Loor, but the closer we got to the top, the more I dreaded what we might find. The last we saw of the Bedoowan and the Milago they were headed for battle. Was the fight over? Did one tribe win? Or would we arrive at the summit to find the tak explosion had created a burned out hole that looked like the bottom of a volcano? I tried to put the worst of those thoughts out of my mind. We would learn the truth soon enough.

When we were nearly on the top, I stopped and looked at Loor. I felt that she was just as worried about what we would find as I was. Neither of us said it, but we both wanted to wait one more second before having to deal with whatever horror was waiting there. After a few moments Loor took a deep breath and nodded. I nodded in agreement and the two of us climbed the last few yards to the summit of the bluffs.

What we saw on top was nothing like I had imagined. First off, it looked as if the surface had remained relatively intact after the tak explosion. There was no gaping volcano-like hole. That was good. Maybe the mine vents channeled away most of the power of the tak explosion after all.

But still, things had changed. It looked as if all the violent action from the explosion took place underground, and the result on the surface was like a huge earthquake had hit. What had once been relatively flat land now looked like a roller coaster of mounds and depressions. The large, flat battlefield of sea grass where the Milago and the Bedoowan fought had been torn apart. Huge boulders had forced their way up from underground and gaping holes had opened up elsewhere. The tak explosion had dramatically torn the terrain apart, changing it forever.

“We should get to the Milago village,” I said.

The two of us walked cautiously back the way we knew would bring us to the village as quickly as possible. Though the terrain had become a tumultuous mess, there was something else that stood out even more dramatically. It was the people. There were hundreds of people wandering around in a daze. As we walked toward the village we saw Bedoowans and Novans and knights and miners. They all seemed to drift about in the same stunned haze. No one cared that they were among the enemy, either. Knights and miners passed each other without so much as a second glance. No one spoke, no one fought, no one was afraid. Everyone was just…stunned.

There were bodies, too. I didn’t know if they were the victims of the tak explosion or the battle. They were being carried off the battlefield and laid next to each other. It didn’t matter if they were Bedoowan or Milago, they were laid side by side. As horrible as this was, I had feared there would be way more bodies than this. Between the battle and the tak explosion, I expected everyone to be wiped out. But it now seemed as though most everyone survived. Only a few unlucky victims lay next to each other beside the battlefield.

Loor and I watched this strange scene silently as we made our way toward the village. We looked for the path that would lead us through the woods, but the path was gone. Most of the woods were gone too. Hundreds of trees had fallen and were piled up like pickup sticks. Finding our way through this maze of trees was tricky.

Then I saw something that made me stop and stare. An injured miner was sitting near the stump of a fallen tree. His head was bleeding and he had to lean against the stump for support. A woman knelt beside him, tending to his wounds. She had a bucket of water and some rags. She dipped the cloth into the water and gently dabbed at the miner’s wound to clean it. She wasn’t rough, she wasn’t in a hurry. Her actions looked like a mother taking care of her child. Given all that had happened you wouldn’t think this scene was out of the ordinary, but it was. That’s because the woman taking care of the Milago miner was a Bedoowan.

“I do not understand,” said Loor. “They are enemies.”

“Maybe they found a common enemy,” was my reply.

We picked our way through the toppled forest and found the Milago village. The place was a mess. Many huts were still standing, but most of them were badly damaged. Some were nothing more than a pile of rubble. The path that led through the village was now a mass of ruts, rocks, and rubble. I looked to the center of the village and to the platform where the Transfer ceremonies took place. It was destroyed. The large stone foundation was still there, but it was now scorched black. The platform was gone. I was about to suggest we look for Alder and Uncle Press when we heard a familiar voice.

“Loor! Pendragon!”

It was Alder. He was alive! The big bumbling knight came bounding toward us like a happy puppy. In his excitement he tripped over a rock and stumbled, and we caught him before he did a complete face plant. The catch turned into a hug for all of us.

“I feared you were dead!” he exclaimed. “How did you escape from the palace?”

“Long story,” I answered. “What happened up here?”

“It was unbelievable!” he shouted. The guy was totally charged. “There was a battle. The Milago tried to defeat the Bedoowan with tak, but the tak ran out so the Milago charged and the two sides clashed and…and…that’s when it happened!”

“What?” asked Loor, though she had a good idea what the answer was.

“The ground came to life!” he shouted. “The earth began to move like the sea! The Milago and the Bedoowan stopped fighting and turned to run, but there was nowhere to go! Trees began to topple and huts fell and the sound…the sound was like thunder under the ground. And then came the fire-”

He pointed at the charred remains of the platform in the center of the village. “Giant pillars of fire shot from the openings to the mines! The flames were like water geysers that shot high into the sky. And then…it was over.”

Alder fell silent, letting us get our heads around all that he had said. After a moment he asked, “And where were you when this all happened?”

I looked to Loor and she gave me a shrug. That meant she wanted me to answer.

“Well,” I said. “We blew up the tak mine. I think that might have had a little something to do with all the excitement.”

Alder stared at us with his mouth open in disbelief. He was having trouble processing the information.

“Close your mouth,” I said. “Where’s Uncle Press?”

“Uhhh, Press,” he said, snapping back to reality. “Right. Follow me.”

Alder stumbled off and led us through the remains of the Milago village. As we approached a hut that was still fairly intact, Alder gave us the “shh” signal. Whatever we were going to see, he didn’t want us to be disruptive. He stayed close to the wall and peered around the corner. Loor and I joined him and looked around the corner as well.

Several yards ahead was the hut that had once been Rellin’s. I remembered it because I had been there when he asked me to go back home and get more batteries. But the walls of the hut were gone. It was bizarre. There were people inside who acted as if they were in the hut, but they were really outside and…well, you get the picture. There were three people who looked to be having a heart-to-heart meeting. I’m thrilled to say that one of them was Uncle Press. He was alive and looking fine. I wanted to shout to him, but I realized he was in the middle of something heavy, so I bit my tongue.

The second person I saw was Rellin. He looked like he had been through a war, which, in fact, he had. His leather clothes were in shreds and his bandaged arm was caked with dried blood, but he was alive. It was the third person in the hut that was the shocker.

It was Queen Kagan. The woman sat on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, crying. I swear, she was crying like a two-year-old. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it looked as if Rellin was speaking to her softly, like a father might speak to a sad child. Uncle Press wasn’t saying anything. My guess was that he was there to act as a neutral peacemaker.

It was then that Uncle Press saw us and broke out in a big grin. He excused himself and ran to us. He threw his arms around me like a big old bear and laughed like it was Christmas. I think he was even crying a little. To be honest, it made me laugh and cry a little bit too. How’s that for a couple of tough-ass Travelers to behave? He pulled us back around to the other side of the hut so we wouldn’t disturb Rellin and Queen Kagan, then threw his arm around Loor as well. I hadn’t seen Uncle Press act like that in forever. For the first time since this adventure began, he was my old Uncle Press again. It was good to have him back. He then pulled away and gave us both a good hard look.

“What?” I finally said.

“Was it you?” he asked. “I mean, all this?” He motioned around to the destruction of the Milago village and I knew exactly what he meant. I looked to Loor. She shrugged, which was becoming our signal that she wanted me to do the talking.

“Well,” I said. “Yeah.”

Uncle Press burst out laughing. “I told you to get rid of the bomb, not set it off underground!”

“We didn’t,” I said, and gave him a quick rundown as to what happened from the time he left us in the Bedoowan stadium. Though everything I told him was the absolute truth, I have to admit that it sounded pretty fantastic. I think the most amazing fact of all was that all of this destruction started when I threw down a pea-sized marble of tak. Talk about knocking over the first domino. Wow.

Uncle Press listened closely. So did Alder. I didn’t think it was possible, but I believe that the story of our adventure in the tak mine shocked my uncle. I knew it stunned Alder; he still couldn’t close his mouth.

“What about Saint Dane?” Uncle Press asked.

“Gone,” I answered. “He jumped into the flume. We would have followed him except he sent back this giant monster shark to stop us. It worked.”

“Monster shark? That means he’s on Cloral,” said Uncle Press thoughtfully.

“Exactly!” I exclaimed. “How did you know?”

“Because the quigs on Cloral are giant monster sharks,” was his simple answer.

Of course! I should have known! Quigs on Second Earth are monster dogs, quigs on Denduron are monster bears, and quigs on Cloral are monster sharks. It was so simple. Everybody knew that. Mental note to self: Stay away from Cloral.

“What’s going on over there?” I asked, referring to the meeting with Queen Kagan and Rellin. I was tired of thinking about quigs, no matter what form they took.

We all looked back around the corner to see the two leaders were still in deep conversation.

“You’re looking at two people who are very frightened,” Uncle Press said. “They both got a glimpse of the apocalypse. Rellin came close to losing every last one of the Milago and Queen Kagan saw her palace fall into the sea. There’s nothing left of their worlds, except for their people.”

“What are they talking about?” asked Loor.

“A lot of things,” answered Uncle Press. “But the bottom line is, they’re talking about how to survive, together.”

A few hours ago the idea of the Milago and the Bedoowan living together in cooperation was a joke. They had centuries of baggage to deal with. That kind of thing doesn’t go away in an afternoon. But then I thought back to the Milago miner who was being cared for by the Bedoowan woman. They were still people, after all. And since the palace had been destroyed, they were pretty much in the same dire situation. Their best chance of survival was to help each other. It seemed like a lot to ask of mortal enemies, but I guess a cataclysmic event that nearly destroys every living thing in sight will make you rethink your priorities.

“They have a lot to offer each other,” added Uncle Press. “The Bedoowan have an advanced knowledge of engineering and chemistry that can help bring the Milago out of the stone age. The Milago are farmers and builders. Now they can finally get something back for their hard work.”

“What about the mines?” asked Alder.

“The mines are gone,” answered Uncle Press. “When the tak blew, the mines collapsed. It would take decades to get back to where they were. It’s not worth it. The Milago are out of the mining business…for good.”

“That means no more glaze,” I added.

“Yeah, no more glaze,” said Uncle Press. “The Bedoowan used glaze to trade with other tribes. Now they’ll have to be more self-sufficient.”

“How do the Novans fit into all this?” I asked.

“They can go back to their own tribe,” said Uncle Press. “Or they can stay and help rebuild. It’s their choice, but I think they’ll stay.”

“What if the Milago try to use tak again?” asked Alder. “That is what Saint Dane wanted, is it not?”

“Thereis no more tak,” I said with authority. “Rellin couldn’t get his hands on any even if he wanted to.”

“Rellin is a good man,” Uncle Press said sharply. “But he was blinded by his concern for his people. Now he can channel that energy into something more constructive. He’s going to be a great leader. But he’s going to have his hands full with Queen Kagan. She’s a piece of work.”

As if he knew we were talking about him, Rellin looked up to us. We made eye contact and Rellin smiled. That one little smile spoke volumes. He had been humbled, and though he looked tired, he also seemed to be at peace. There was a huge task in front of him, but he was the right man for the job.

“There are no guarantees,” said Uncle Press. “These people have to work through centuries of hatred and mistrust. But at least now they’ve got a shot at building a society that can benefit everyone. It’s not often that you get a second chance.”

As I looked around the ruined Milago village it was hard to comprehend that the best thing that could have happened to these people was the near-destruction of their world. But maybe Uncle Press was right. Maybe the only way they could change was to clean the slate and start over. They were certainly going to get that chance. I truly hoped that they’d make the most of it.

“I’m hungry!” announced Uncle Press. “Loor, could you and Alder head over to the hospital hut? They’ve set up an emergency supply station there.”

Alder and Loor quickly left us to search for some food. But I don’t think Uncle Press was really interested in eating. I think he wanted to talk to me alone.

“Let’s walk,” he said. The two of us left Queen Kagan and Rellin to their discussion and walked through the Milago village.

“How do you feel, Bobby?” he asked me.

Now there was a simple question that didn’t have a simple answer. How did I feel? I felt a million different ways. I felt tired. I felt sore from my escape with Loor and our plummet into the sea. I felt proud of myself for having kept my head on straight when things were crashing down around me.

I felt as if I learned a few things. I learned that it’s sometimes okay to think like a weenie, so long as you don’tact like one-at least not all the time. I learned that it’s okay to be wrong, as long as you can admit it and are willing to listen to those who may know better.

I also felt sad. Sad for Osa, Loor’s wonderful mother. She was someone I wish I had gotten to know better. And I felt sad for Loor, who lost her. I also felt sad for the others who lost their lives here as well. There was so much I had seen over these few days and not all of it was good. I saw the horrible way that people could treat each other. That may be the saddest thing of all. I saw greed and anger and murder and a total lack of concern for human life. It was the wicked side of the human soul that I saw here on Denduron and it saddened me to know that such a dark place existed.

How did I feel? I was frightened of Saint Dane. Not because I thought he would come after me or anything, but scared of what one man was capable of. He used his evil influence to manipulate people into doing horrible deeds. His power nearly brought about the destruction of an entire world. I feared that he might try again elsewhere and hoped that by stopping him here, his plan would go no further. But what I was mostly scared of, was being a Traveler. I didn’t want the responsibility. I mean, I’m just a kid. If there is something that truly scares me, it’s my own future.

How did I feel? I also felt a little glad. I was glad that the people of Denduron were going to get a second chance. I was proud of Uncle Press. I wasn’t entirely sure of what his deal was, but he cared enough to help bring about the resurrection of a society headed for ruin. I was also glad that I met the people I did. Alder had a good heart and I’ll always remember him as a friend. Rellin may have been misguided, but what he did he did for the good of his people and I respected that. Now he has the chance to help them in a more positive way. I’m glad that I met Osa. I don’t think I will ever forget her calm wisdom and I hope that some of it rubbed off on me. I was glad that I had good friends like you two, Mark and Courtney. You helped me when I needed it most and I will forever be in your debt.

But I think I was mostly glad that I met Loor. She was fiercely loyal and willing to put her life on the line for what she believed. She was brave and caring and smart and beautiful as all hell. But beyond that, there was something about Loor for which I couldn’t even begin to thank her. When this adventure fades in my memory, and it will, I will still be grateful to her for having pushed me to think outside of my own little world, and recognize my own strength.

So how did I feel? It was a complex question, but I had a simple answer.

“Uncle Press,” I said, “I feel like I want to go home.”

He was about to argue with me, but I cut him off.

“No,” I said. “When you asked me to come with you, you said there were people who needed our help. I did everything you asked me to do. Now I want to go home.”

He didn’t even try to argue. How could he? “Okay, Bobby,” he said warmly. “You’re right. I am more proud of you than I can begin to say. Tomorrow, I’ll take you home.”

Now,that’s what I wanted to hear! And that’s what brought me to the place where I am right now, writing my final journal. We’re spending the night in the hospital hut. Tomorrow we’re going to make the long trek back up the mountain to the flume. Unfortunately the gate that was in the mines is now buried under a million tons of rock. Uncle Press assures me that the climb won’t be hard. We will borrow some horses from the Bedoowan and take along a few whistles in case we run into any rogue quigs.

Alder and Loor are with me and they, too, are writing their journals. Alder filled me in on all that had happened during the battle, so that is how I know. I’m not going to send this journal to you through the ring. My plan is to hand it to you guys myself. I’m looking forward to seeing the expressions on your faces when I show up.

I’m also looking forward to seeing my family again. I’m not sure what to tell them, but I’ll figure something out. I wonder if Marley misses me as much as I miss her?

Well guys, this is the last time I’m going to be writing to you. Thank you for reading. Thank you for being my friends. Tomorrow I’m going to leave Denduron for the final time. I can’t wait to get home.

END OF JOURNAL #4.

Second Earth

Mark finished reading the pages before Courtney did,but didn’t move until she looked up. They both looked at Bobby, who was lying on Mark’s bed. They wanted to talk to him, but they wouldn’t dare wake him up because he needed the rest. It was a strange feeling. This was their friend. They had known each other since they were little. Things were different now. Yes, this was still Bobby, but he wasn’t the same Bobby who had kissed Courtney only a few days before. Could things go back to the way they were?

“I’m awake,” Bobby said softly.

Mark and Courtney jumped up and went to him. Courtney sat on the edge of the bed. Mark paced.

“So I guess you got back to the flume on the mountain okay,” said Courtney.

Bobby sat up, but it was a struggle. Obviously he was sore. Not hurt, just sore.

“Yeah, we got some Bedoowan horses and they took us most of the way.”

“What about the quigs?” asked Mark.

“They didn’t show, but I think that was because of the nasty ice storm.” He pointed to the small cuts on his face. “The wind was blowing hard. It was like being cut by flying needles. Basically, it sucked. Sorry if I messed up your pillows.”

“It’s cool,” said Mark. He meant it too.

“Who came back with you?” asked Courtney. “Uncle Press?”

“Yeah,” answered Bobby. “But you know something weird? When we got to that subway station, his motorcycle was waiting for us right where he left it. The helmets, too. How strange is that?”

It was strange indeed, because when Mark and Courtney went to that station the motorcycle wasn’t there. Someone must have been keeping it, waiting for Press’s return.

Mark said, “Yeah, that’s strange.” He held up Bobby’s last journal and added, “But you want to talk about strange?”

They all stared at the parchment pages, then burst out laughing. Mark was right. Compared to what Bobby had done on Denduron, a motorcycle mysteriously disappearing and reappearing was pretty low on the “strange” scale.

It felt good for Bobby to laugh and to be with his friends, yet he had the same awkward feeling that bothered both Courtney and Mark. A lot had happened. He was a different guy. Could he go back and pick up his life where he left off?

“What about Loor?” asked Courtney. “Did she stay on Denduron?”

Mark thought he caught a touch of jealousy in her voice, but he decided not to point it out.

Bobby stopped laughing. Courtney had touched a raw nerve. “She climbed with us to the top of the mountain,” he said softly. “But when we got into the cave where the gate was, she just kept walking and jumped into the flume. No good-byes. No see ya around. No gee it’s been swell. Nothing. I mean, it’s not like we’d become best friends or anything, but we’d been through a lot. There were some things I wanted to say.”

Obviously this hurt Bobby. He had grown to like Loor, but it didn’t seem as if Loor cared about or liked him the same way. There was a long moment of awkward silence. Then Mark raised the key issue that was on everyone’s mind.

“Bobby,” he said tentatively. “There’s some crazy stuff in your journals. The deal with the Milago and the Bedoowan is only part of it. What about this Traveler stuff; and flumes that shoot you between times and places; and people who live on territories all over the universe; and Halla? What is Halla? How can everyplace and everything and everytime still exist? And who is this Saint Dane dude? Is he gonna show up here someday and do what he did on Denduron? The stuff you wrote tears apart everything we know about how things work and I gotta tell you, it’s freaking me out.”

“I wish I could make you feel better,” Bobby began. “But it’s freaking me out too. I don’t know anything more about it than what I wrote in those journals. I wish I could turn back the clock to the other night and tell Uncle Press to find somebody else to help him, but I can’t. Part of me is okay with that. I learned some things about myself that are pretty cool. I also found out some things that I gotta change. That’s all good. But as for the whole Traveler deal…I haven’t got a clue.”

“So, what are you going to do?” asked Courtney.

Bobby pulled himself across the bed and stood up. His legs were a little shaky, but otherwise he was okay. “I’m going to try to get back to normal,” he announced with certainty. “If Uncle Press needs help again, he can find somebody else. Would you guys come home with me? It might make things easier.”

This was the moment Mark and Courtney were dreading. How could they possibly tell Bobby that his family had disappeared? After what he had been through, he didn’t deserve this. But still, he had to know.

“B-Bobby,” said Mark nervously. “There’s s-something you should-”

Courtney cut him off. “We’ll go with you, Bobby,” she said. “We want to be there for you.”

Mark shot Courtney a look, but Courtney didn’t back down. She felt there was only one way that Bobby should learn about what had happened and that was to see it for himself. If they told him, he’d want to see for himself anyway, so Courtney felt it would be better to get the news all at once.

It was a short walk to Bobby’s house on Linden Place. As they walked along the familiar sidewalks of Stony Brook, Bobby looked around with a smile. He had walked these streets a thousand times before, but he now had a whole new appreciation for them. He took in every sight, every smell, every sensation that he could. He wrapped himself in the feelings like a comfortable blanket and it made him feel whole again. He felt so good that he even allowed himself to think that it was possible to pick up his life where he had left off.

Mark and Courtney sensed this. It broke their hearts to know that soon his happy homecoming was going to crash and burn. Then just before they rounded the final bend that would bring them to 2 Linden Place and the empty lot where Bobby’s house used to be, Courtney grabbed Bobby and stopped him. She held him by the shoulders and stared him right in the eye.

“You gotta know something, Bobby,” she said sincerely.

“We’re here for you.”

“I know that, Courtney,” replied Bobby.

Courtney didn’t let go of him. She knew that as soon as she did, he’d turn that corner to see that the life he so desperately wanted back, wasn’t there anymore.

“Hey, you okay?” Bobby asked her curiously.

Courtney nodded and let him go. Bobby glanced at Mark to try and get a clue as to why Courtney was acting all strange, but Mark looked just as bad as Courtney did. Bobby knew right then that something was wrong. He spun and ran around the corner to get to his house. Mark and Courtney gave each other a nervous glance and followed.

When Mark and Courtney rounded the corner, they saw Bobby standing alone on the sidewalk, staring at the empty lot where his house used to be. He didn’t move, he didn’t shout, it didn’t even look like he was breathing. He just stood there and stared. They didn’t say anything. They had to let Bobby take the time to get his mind around what he was seeing. Ornot seeing. Bobby walked forward and stepped onto the spot where his yard used to be. It was the yard he had played in since he was a toddler. It was the yard where he wrestled with Marley. It was the yard that led to the house he had called home for fourteen years. It was all gone.

“Hey there,” came a familiar voice from behind them.

Everyone spun to see Uncle Press standing on the sidewalk. He was once again dressed in his jeans and long leather coat. Behind him was a small, black sports car he had just arrived in. A Porsche. Uncle Press always traveled in style.

“It’s okay, Bobby,” said Uncle Press softly. “Try to breathe.”

Mark and Courtney took a few steps out of the way. Whatever was about to happen, it was between Press and Bobby. They saw that Bobby’s eyes were red. He had started to cry. But the sad look turned to one of fury when he saw his uncle.

“Where are they?” Bobby said through clenched teeth. “And don’t tell me this is the way it was meant to be. I don’t want to hear that.”

“They’re fine, “Press said soothingly. “They’re all fine.”

Bobby took a few steps toward Press. He was angry, sad, confused, and scared. But most of all, he wanted answers. “Then why aren’t they here?” he demanded.

“This is the toughest part,” said Press. “It was tough for me, it was tough for Alder and for Loor, too, but we all had to go through it. I would have told you on Denduron, but you had to see for yourself.”

“See what? What is happening?” Bobby demanded.

Courtney reached out and grabbed Mark’s hand for support. Mark didn’t resist.

“Bobby, your family is gone because it was time for you to leave,” said Uncle Press. “They raised you to be the person you are today, but it’s time to move on.”

Bobby took a few steps back as if Press’s words had physically hit him. What was he saying? Was it planned for him to go to Denduron from the day he was born? Did his family know about this all along? How could that be? His life had been so…normal. Then a realization came to Bobby.

“You’re not my uncle, are you?” he asked.

“No, not in the traditional sense,” answered Press. “But I’ve always looked out for you and I always will.”

Bobby turned back to the empty lot and ran to the center. He wanted to find a splinter of wood, a piece of glass, maybe even a piece of an old Wiffle ball. There had to be something that said he had passed through here. But there was nothing. Then Bobby heard something that came as another surprise.

“It will be all right, Pendragon,” said another familiar voice.

Bobby spun back toward the sidewalk to see that standing next to the car was Loor. She was dressed in denim overalls and a tight pink sleeveless shirt that showed off her powerful shoulders and arms. She even had on Doc Marten black boots. Her long black hair was braided down her back and she wore a necklace made of small shells. She could have easily passed for a student at Stony Brook High. No one would ever guess that she was actually a warrior from a far-off territory.

Courtney looked at Loor and sized her up, head to toe. Mark saw this and made a mental note to give Courtney a hard time later for being jealous. But who could blame her? Mark thought that Loor was even more strikingly beautiful than Bobby had described. She may have been dressed like a suburban girl, but she had the powerful presence of a warrior. Courtney Chetwynde had finally met her match.

Bobby walked to Loor. If anyone could tell him the truth, it would be her.

“Does this make sense to you?” he asked.

“It is starting to,” was her answer.

“What about your mother?” he asked. “Was Osa your real mother?”

“No. I was told the truth before I first went to Denduron,” answered Loor. “Osa raised me, she taught me all that I know. She was my mother in every sense, except that she had not given birth to me. But that did not stop me from loving her.”

Bobby looked down, letting this sink in.

“On the mountain,” continued Loor, “I did not say good-bye to you because my mind was elsewhere. Osa’s body was already back on Zadaa. I had to return for the burial ceremony. It was difficult for me. I hope you were not offended.”

Bobby shook his head. He understood all too well because he now knew what it was like to lose your mother. He looked to Press and asked, “So that’s it? Travelers don’t have families? They don’t have lives? They only bounce around the universe looking for trouble?”

Press smiled and said, “You trust me, Bobby, don’t you?”

“I think so,” said Bobby skeptically. “But I’m losing faith fast.”

“Don’t,” said Press quickly. “Believe me when I tell you that as time goes on, this will make sense to you. And I’ll make you a promise. You will see your family again. You’ll see your mom and your dad and your sister, Shannon, too.”

“What about Marley?” Bobby asked.

“You’ll run with your dog again too,” said Press. “But not today.”

“When?” asked Bobby.

Press gave this thought. He may have had all the answers, but this one eluded him. “That’s one I can’t answer,” he said.

Bobby looked to Loor who gave him a slight nod of encouragement, then back to the empty lot. He took a long time to collect his thoughts. Finally he said, “You asked me how I felt before. You want to know how I feel right now?”

“How?” asked Press.

“I feel like I just found out there’s no Santa Claus,” he answered. “It’s not a good feeling.”

“It’ll get better,” said Press.

“So what happens now?” asked Bobby.

“Now you come with us,” answered Press.

Bobby walked over to Mark and Courtney. He looked at his two friends and the memories of his life in Stony Brook came flooding back. He wanted nothing more than to turn around and see his house standing there so he could go back to the way things were before. But that was not meant to be.

“I…guess I’ve got to go,” said Bobby.

“We’ll always be here for you,” said Courtney as tears began to well in her eyes.

Bobby leaned forward and grabbed the two of them in a hug. He tried hard not to break out in tears. He didn’t want to do that. Not in front of Loor. But he didn’t want to let go of his friends, either, because as soon as he did it would be the final act of letting go of his life here on Earth. Second Earth.

“Time to go, Bobby,” prodded Press gently.

Bobby pulled back from his two best friends and looked them in the eye. Mark wiped away a tear, smiled and said, “Hey, don’t forget to write!”

The three of them laughed at this. That went without saying.

“Are you sure?” asked Bobby. “Will you keep my journals?”

“I’d be pissed if you sent them to anyone else,” Mark replied as he held up his hand to show Bobby the ring that Osa had given him.

Bobby gave a smile of thanks and fought back tears to say, “See you guys soon.”

“Good-bye, Bobby,” said Courtney. “Good luck.”

Bobby nodded, then turned and headed toward the car. He stopped in front of Loor and looked at the warrior girl who was destined to be his partner.

“I know you do not want to hear this, Pendragon,” she said. “But this is the way it was meant to be.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” said Bobby with skepticism. He gave one last look to the empty lot where his house used to be, then slid into the back of the Porsche. Loor looked at Mark and Courtney. Courtney stood up a little straighter. Loor chuckled, then she too got into the car.

“Keep his journals safe,” Press said to Mark and Courtney. “He may need them again someday.”

Mark and Courtney nodded a promise. Press then jogged around the car and hopped behind the wheel. With a roar of the engine, the little sports car blasted away from the curb and flew down the street, headed for…somewhere.

Mark and Courtney watched it until it was out of sight and the sound died away. They stood there for a long time after, not sure of what to do next.

Finally Mark said, “There’s no Santa Claus?”

Both of them laughed. It felt good, but it hid their true feelings.

Courtney said, “You’ll call me if-”

“Soon as the next one comes in,” promised Mark.

Then the two of them walked away from the empty lot, split up, and headed to their homes. Mark went right to his bedroom and waited for another journal from Bobby. The others had come pretty regularly and he expected his ring to start moving with the telltale quiver any second. But it didn’t. He stayed awake most of the night, staring at the ring, willing it to move.

But it didn’t.

Courtney called him twice a day to see if Bobby had written but kept getting the same answer, “Nothing yet.” Whenever she saw Mark in school she would make eye contact as if to ask: “Anything?” But Mark would always answer with a shrug and a shake of his head.

Days passed. The days turned into weeks, the weeks into months, with nothing from Bobby. Mark and Courtney realized that they couldn’t live their lives around waiting for his next message, so they drifted apart. Besides their friendship with Bobby, they really had nothing in common. Courtney went back to playing volleyball and led the Stony Brook team to the county finals. The men’s team, of course.

Mark went back to being Mark. He still ate too many carrots and spent most of his time huddled over books in the library. There was one big change in his life though. Andy Mitchell didn’t bother him anymore. Courtney didn’t know it, but she became Mark’s guardian angel…at least when it came to Andy Mitchell.

The investigation to find the Pendragons continued, but they found nothing. Sergeant D’Angelo and Captain Hirsch would sometimes call Mark or Courtney to ask if they had heard anything, but the answer was always the same. No. Even if they wanted to tell the truth, neither of them could begin to figure out what to say.

Mark and Courtney never forgot about Bobby. He popped into their thoughts at least once a day. But the more time that passed without a word, the less he stayed on their minds. It made sense. They had to get on with their own lives.

The times when they thought of Bobby were usually triggered by seeing things that reminded them of their friend. Mark would play Nintendo football and remember the times that Bobby kicked his butt at the very same game. Courtney would hear a comedian say something goofy on TV and she’d laugh because she knew it would have made Bobby laugh. One time Mark sat in the stands during gym watching the guys play basketball and it made him think of how great Bobby was at the game.

And that’s when it happened. The ring twitched.

At first Mark didn’t know what it was. But when he looked down, he saw the familiar glow coming from the stone. Mark nearly wet his pants with excitement. He ran out of the stands and right through the game. It didn’t matter to him that he totally disrupted play and was getting yelled at by every guy on the court. He had to get out of there fast and he had to find Courtney. He found her in the girls’ gym next door. She was taking a class on combatives and was in the middle of a judo match. With very little effort she picked up her opponent and threw her on her back with a loud, sickeningthud. Then just as she was helping her victim to her feet, Mark ran into the gym and yelled.

“Courtney!”

Everyone turned to look at the mad dweeb. Courtney locked eyes with him and instantly knew the deal. She quickly bowed to her opponent and ran to Mark. They didn’t have to say a word. They knew what to do. The two of them headed right for Mark’s fortress of solitude: the boys’ bathroom on the third floor. Courtney wasn’t shy, she barged in ahead of Mark. No sooner did they get inside than Mark took off the ring and put it on the ground. The ring twitched, the crystal lights flashed and the familiar process began. The little ring grew larger and with a final blinding flash, it was over.

On the floor was a roll of paper, but this one looked different than the others. It was a light green color, rather than the yellowed pages they were used to. There was a tie around the roll, but rather than a piece of brown leather, this looked like some kind of dark green plantlike material. Mark pulled it off and carefully unrolled the pages. They were roughly the same size as the others, but these were oddly shaped. There were no squared edges. Mark felt the texture-they didn’t appear to be paper at all. These pages were some sort of large, dried leaves that were sort of rubbery…and waterproof.

“You ready?” asked Courtney.

“My hands are shaking,” replied Mark.

Then the two of them looked at Bobby’s newest journal.