The Rivers of Zadaa

JOURNAL #21
(CONTINUED)
ZADAA

Thenext few hours passed in a blur. We first brought Bokka’s body into the barracks and covered him. Loor was amazingly stoic. I couldn’t imagine what was going through her head. Her best friend from birth had been killed by his own people. The only way I could relate would be to imagine if something happened to either of you two guys, Mark and Courtney. It was beyond horrible. Bokka died trying to help Loor. To help us. I regretted ever being jealous of the guy. He was a hero. Still, Loor couldn’t allow herself time to mourn. We needed to take care of the living, and Alder needed help. Fast. We knew where to get it.

We awkwardly carried the injured Bedoowan knight to the entrance to the underground, and the small train that would take us back to the crossroads. It wasn’t easy. Alder was big and heavy. None of us complained. As we traveled along in that miniature train, I hoped that we wouldn’t run into the Tiggen assassins. If they thought we were following them, well, let’s just say I’m really glad we didn’t see them.

We made it through the crossroads without problems, and continued the journey back to Xhaxhu. Luckily we found a cart that we were able to load Alder into so we could push him along. Without that cart it would have taken us twice as long to get back, and every second counted. We had to be careful, though. We didn’t want to take the arrow out. Loor said it would only make him bleed more.

Throughout the trip, none of us said anything about Bokka’s last words. There would be time for that later. Now it was all about Alder. As we moved quickly through the tunnels, all I could do was stare at him and hope that we wouldn’t be losing another Traveler. The thought was too painful to even imagine. Loor had her hand over Alder’s heart, as if trying to transmit some kind of cosmic energy into his body to keep him alive. It was sweet, and gut-wrenching at the same time.

Our goal was to get back to the hospital where I had been treated, and hope that the doctor who cared for me would be willing to help. By the time we arrived in Xhaxhu it was night, so we were able to use the darkness for cover as we made our way through the streets to the hospital pyramid. We found our way in and brought Alder to a quiet room, away from suspicious eyes, while Saangi went to find the doctor who had treated me. It didn’t take her long. She found him and immediately brought him to the secluded room. When he saw us, his shoulders fell. He did not want the responsibility of caring for another Rokador.

“What is your name?” I asked the doctor.

“Nazsha,” the man answered.

I spoke slowly and sincerely, in the hope that whatever abilities of persuasion I had as a Traveler would kick in. If we ever needed them, it was now.

“When you treated me, Nazsha,” I said, “you said you thought I could help the Batu. You were right. That’s what I’m trying to do. And so is this injured man.”

Alder was still unconscious. His white Rokador tunic was drenched in his own blood. He was alive, but I didn’t know for how much longer.

The doctor gave him a quick look and said, “That is the arrow of a Rokador.”

“It is,” I said.

“And you now wear the armor of a Ghee,” he said, confused.

“You were right before,” I said. “We aren’t Rokador. Without your help, he’ll die.”

The doctor looked at me. I saw the questions in his eyes. If he didn’t believe we were there to help the Batu, at least I hoped he was like the doctors on Second Earth who were supposed to help the sick and injured, no matter what.

“This could bring me trouble,” he said.

“Maybe,” I replied. “But isn’t all of Xhaxhu already in serious trouble?”

The doctor looked back to Alder. I could tell he was debating with himself about what to do.

“Bring him,” Nazsha finally ordered.

I’d like to take the credit for convincing the guy to help, but I think it was more because he was the kind of guy who always helped those in need. Loor and I each took one of Alder’s arms and carried the big knight through the sandstone corridors to a forgotten area deep within the bowels of the hospital. There, safely away from curious eyes, the doctor went to work. He cut off Alder’s blood-soaked clothing and pulled out the arrow, which I couldn’t watch. The squishy, sucking sound was bad enough. Alder looked pale, and not just Rokador-pale. It was from the blood loss. Doctor Nazsha cleaned him up and packed the wound with something that looked like leaves dipped in honey. He then went to work with needle and thread to close it up. I guess I don’t have to point out that I didn’t watch that, either. After he finished sewing, he dressed the wound with some salve and forced Alder to drink a variety of potions, which wasn’t easy since Alder was pretty out of it.

“I will continue to administer the medication,” the doctor said. “I do not believe the arrow damaged anything vital, but the blood loss may have been too much. The rest is up to your friend. If he lives through the night, he may survive.”

“Can we stay here?” I asked.

“If you wish,” the doctor asked. “But I cannot protect you if a Ghee discovers you. I am not a brave man. I will help care for your friend, but I am not a warrior.”

“You’re wrong,” I said. “You’re a very brave man. Thank you.”.

The doctor left, with the promise to return frequently.

“I must return to Mooraj,” Loor said. “Bokka must be taken care of.”

I wanted to argue. It was dangerous to go back through the underground. But if Loor wanted to go, I wasn’t about to stop her. She left without saying another word. Saangi stayed with me. I think Loor wanted her there in case there was trouble. Or maybe she wanted to take care of Bokka’s body alone. Either way, Saangi and I stayed with Alder. Doctor Nazsha was true to his word. Every few hours he returned to change Alder’s dressing and give him more liquid. The guy probably didn’t sleep all night. He was a good doctor.

After spending a few hours there watching over Alder, Saangi went out to get some food and water. That was fine, but I didn’t have the energy to eat. All I wanted was to be unconscious. I was dog-tired. But as beat as I was, I couldn’t knock off. Random thoughts kept bouncing around my head like a foosball game with twelve balls.

There have been many times since I left home that I questioned whether it was a mistake that I had become a Traveler.

Did I say “many times”? How about a few hundred times a day? I wrote to you before about Gunny’s theory. He thinks that somebody actually chose the Travelers, though he has no idea who that could be. If it’s true, when I meet him the first thing I’m going to ask that guy is: “Why me?” I guess I’d done okay so far, but if I were asked to describe the perfect Traveler, it sure wouldn’t be me. As I sat there, trying not to stress over these cosmic questions that had no answers, I heard a familiar voice. “How is he?”

I looked up to see Loor standing in the doorway.

“The same,” I said. “But I think that’s a good thing.”

Loor walked over to Alder and put a hand on his forehead. I watched her, thinking that when I met that mysterious guy who chose the Travelers, the one question Iwouldn’thave to ask is: “Why Loor?” I knew why Loor. She was strong. She was brave. She was simple, but I mean that in a good way. She didn’t overanalyze everything the way I did. Right and wrong were as easy for her to pick out as left and right. All the Travelers are special in some way, but I have to say that Loor is our backbone. If we lost her, we’d be done. I know I would. I actually thought ahead to a time in the future when this battle with Saint Dane would be over. Would I ever see Loor again? Would I continue to ride the flumes? Would she come to Second Earth? I couldn’t imagine life without her being part of it. How that might work was a whole nother problem for another day. I already had too many balls bouncing around the foosball table in my brain to worry about that.

She left Alder and walked over to me. “Bokka is at rest,” she said before I had the chance to ask her. “I honored him in the traditional way.”

I knew what that meant. She had cremated Bokka’s body, the same as we did with Kasha. I couldn’t begin to imagine how tough that was. I didn’t want to.

“I’m sorry, Loor” was all I could say. “I wish I knew him better.”

“In many ways he was like you,” she said. “He believed that good could be found in everyone. That was what I liked most about him.”

I nodded.

“Pendragon?” came a raspy voice.

It was Alder. He was awake! Loor and I hurried to the bed to see that his eyes were open. They were unfocused and glassy, but open. I wasn’t sure if that was from the blood loss, or the wacky mind-numbing medicines the doctor had been pumping into him.

“Water,” he croaked.

I grabbed a cup and brought it to his lips. Alder raised his head to take a few sips, then dropped back down as if the effort were too much.

“Weak,” he whispered.

“I hear you,” I said. “But you’re gonna be okay.” At that moment Doctor Nazsha entered, along with Saangi.

“He’s awake!” I announced.

The doctor went right to Alder and did a quick exam.

“I am amazed,” Nazsha said. “His wounds are healing.” He looked at me and added, “You and your friend have remarkable recuperative powers.”

We did? When I was in that hospital it sure felt like my recovery took a long time. But then again, I’d never had my entire body pummeled and broken before, so I didn’t have any frame of reference.

The doctor continued, “If there is no infection, I believe he will be fine.”

Relief? Yeah, that’s an understatement. Even Saangi smiled. More surprising than that, Loor hugged me. Loor. Cold, professional Loor. I didn’t know if this meant she was warming up, or she was totally relieved that she wouldn’t have to witness the deaths of two friends. It didn’t matter. I hugged her back.

Alder rasped, “I feel as weak as a baby.”

Loor said, “Not for long. You are stronger than any Ghee.”

The doctor said, “It will take time before you will be well enough to move. I will care for you until then.”

Alder nodded and fell back to sleep. Lucky him.

“Thanks, Doctor,” I said. “You did a good thing here.”

Nazsha nodded and said, “I trust you will be as successful in your quest.” He left. The pressure was off. Alder would live. Knowing that, my mind instantly went to the challenge ahead.

“I know this is tough to talk about,” I began. “But we have to. Bokka died trying to give us information. Something is going on with the Rokador. It was so important that he was killed by his own people to stop him from telling us.”

“He said it was a nightmare,” Saangi added.

“Right, nightmare,” I said. “Remind you of anyone?”

“Saint Dane,” Loor said.

“Yeah, Saint Dane,” I echoed. “Tell me about Kidik. It’s a city, right?”

“It is the seat of Rokador power,” Loor explained. “Not many Batu have been there. I have never seen it myself.”

I took Bokka’s map from where I was keeping it, inside the chest piece of my Ghee armor. I unfolded the parchment to see that it looked like a crude road map. But rather than roads, this map showed tunnels. Hundreds of them. Some wider than others. It was pretty extensive, too. Imagine looking at a road map with no markings other than the roads. No landmarks, no mountains, and certainly no rest stops with a McDonald’s. The route to Kidik was traced in red.

“Bokka has shown us the way,” I said. “He said we’d find the truth at the center, beyond Kidik. Do you know what that is?”

“No,” Loor said.

I looked to Saangi. She shrugged.

“Well,” I said, “I think we have to go find out.”

“We are going to Kidik?” Saangi asked, eagerly.

“Not you,” Loor answered. Saangi wanted to argue, but Loor cut her off fast. “Stop!” she commanded. “That is my decision. You must remain here to care for Alder. When he is well enough to move, you must bring him to the flume and send him home.”

“Uh, but don’t use the flume yourself,” I added, just in case.

“But Loor-“

“That is final!” Loor said. She meant it. Saangi realized it and backed off.

“Let’s go now,” I said. “I’m ready.”

“Not just yet,” Loor said. “Tonight is the Festival of Azhra, remember? You have been personally invited to attend by Pelle a Zinj. I believe we should go.”

“What?” I shouted. “We finally have a hint that might lead us to Saint Dane and you want to go to a party? Bokka died to give us this information. We have to go!”

“I agree,” Loor said. “But I believe the one person who will determine whether or not the Batu go to war with the Rokador is Pelle a Zinj. The royal family always makes a ceremonial presentation and a speech to the city at the festival. I believe it would be wise for us to hear what he has to say.”

I couldn’t argue with that. If Pelle a Zinj was going to make a big speech to the whole city, he wasn’t going to be talking about sports. Loor was right. This speech might tell us if war was near.

“Okay,” I said, reluctantly. “I guess whatever is down there can wait a day.”

Loor said, “Saangi, I know you are disappointed, but Alder is a Traveler, and a friend. We need him, and he needs you. You must stay with him until he is well enough to move.”

“I understand,” Saangi said. “Forgive me for arguing.”

Loor smiled and said, “I would have been surprised if you did not.”

I was happy that Loor had ordered Saangi to stay, and not just because Alder needed her help. I wouldn’t say anything, but after being fooled so many times on the other territories, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure that Saangi wasn’t actually Saint Dane in disguise. I didn’t think she was, but there were a lot of other people I never suspected either. I wasn’t to the point where I was paranoid about everybody. That would have made me nuts. But I’m to the point where if somebody gets too close, I get suspicious. For those reasons, it was better that Loor and I traveled to Kidik alone.

She and I left the hospital, doing our best to keep clear of people. At least I didn’t have to hide under the heavy, dark robe anymore. Between my darkened skin and my Ghee warrior clothes, I fit right in. Sort of. I still wore a small hood over my head. Tan or no, I didn’t have the features of a Batu.

The sun was beginning to rise over Xhaxhu. Loor and I went back to her home in the Ghee warrior complex and made the really smart decision to get some sleep. The festival wouldn’t begin until sunset and there was no telling when we’d get another chance to rest. Now that our path was set, and Alder was healing, I was actually able to conk out and get some much-needed sleep. I lay down on a grass mat in front of Loor’s fireplace and drifted off instantly. No thinking. No dreaming. No foosball. I don’t thinkImoved for hours. The rest of the day I was comatose, enjoying a deep, healing sleep that was long in coming.

The next thing I knew, Loor was kneeling by me, gently nudging me awake.

“It is time to prepare,” she said.

“Prepare what?” I asked. “Are we supposed to bring dip or something to this party?”

“First we must eat,” she said. On the floor next to me was a tray of fruit and bread and a cup of precious water. “After we eat, you will wear this.” She held up a white Rokador jacket and pants. It was pretty much like the other Rokador clothes I had worn, but the collar and sleeves had some kind of gold-braid design around them.

“Rokador dress-up clothes?” I asked.

“They wear this on special occasions,” Loor confirmed.

“What about my Ghee armor?” I asked.

“Nobody wears armor to this festival,” Loor said. “And you must act as a Rokador. Remember, Pelle a Zinj believes you are one, and you are his guest.”

“Right,” I said, sitting up. “I hope he doesn’t ask where I got the tan.”

“He may not even know you are there,” Loor said. “This is just a precaution. Now I must prepare.”

Loor left me and went into the other room of her home. I figured she had already eaten, so I ate my fill of the delicious fruit and bread, washing it all down with the water. Once I was full, I got up and reluctantly took off my Ghee armor clothes. I hoped I could figure out how to put it all back on again. Ithen slipped on the soft white pants and jacket of the Rokador. This material felt finer than what I had been wearing before. These were definitely “dress-up” clothes. I also put on another pair of the open sandals. I hated those. Have I mentioned that?

I stood up straight, stretched out the kinks, and called out, “Are you ready?”

“I am,” Loor said.

I turned to see Loor standing in the doorway to the next room. I gasped. Yes, I actually gasped, I’m embarrassed to say. I couldn’t help it. The surprise was too much. Loor stood there looking absolutely gorgeous. In the past I had seen her wear the leather clothes of the Milago peasants, the jumpsuit of a Lifelight jumper, the leather armor of a Ghee warrior, and even the jeans and T-shirt of Second Earth. But nothing I had seen before had prepared me for this.

She looked like a princess.

Gone was the black armor. Loor wore a short, deep red tunic that hugged her incredible, athletic body. Unlike the armor, this dress was soft and very feminine. There were ornate tapestrylike designs around the neck and the bottom of the short skirt. She wore lightweight sandals, with leather straps crisscrossing up to her knees. The sleeves were short, and on each bicep she wore a colorful, beaded strap. Around her neck was a necklace of blue crystal stones that reminded me of the glaze from Denduron. As breathtaking as the whole outfit was, what really stood out for me was her hair. Loor always had her hair tied back practically, so it wouldn’t get in the way. Now her long dark hair was totally loose and combed out. Her hair was so black and shiny, it sparkled with light from the fireplace. Around her forehead she wore a simple headpiece that looked as if it were made from pearls. There was an ornate piece in the center, with two drapes of pearls coming down across either side of her forehead.

In a word, she was stunning.

I said, “Uhh.” That’s it. “Uhh.” Smooth, huh?

“How do I look?” Loor asked.

“Beautiful,” I said. Though “beautiful” was a totally inadequate word. Given time I could think of a few thousand others that would work much better.

“I do not often dress like this,” she said, walking into the room. “But there are times when conflict must be put aside. The Festival of Azhra is one of them.”

When she walked, I expected her to move like a guy dressed up like a girl. She didn’t. Loor had a way of moving that was solid, but at the same time, graceful. It’s like she sort of…flowed.

“You are staring at me, Pendragon,” she said. “Is something wrong?”

“Wrong?” I laughed. “Things are about as right as they can get. You look great.”

She gave me a small smile. “As do you,” she said. She was being polite. I looked like me with a tan and a goofy bathrobe. With sandals.

“We should go,” she said. “We do not want to miss anything.”

The Festival of Azhra was pretty much like big celebrations back on Second Earth. Loor explained that a parade would wind its way through the streets of Xhaxhu, ending at the palace of Zinj. Once the parade ended, all the citizens of Xhaxhu would gather in the square in front of the palace for the traditional greeting and speech given by a member of the royal family. It was all followed by families returning to their homes and big feasts that lasted through the rest of the night. It sounded like fun. I wondered what kind of vibe there would be, seeing as the city was gripped by a drought and on the verge of war. I didn’t imagine there would be much feasting, either.

I was thrilled to discover that at least for a night, the people of Xhaxhu forgot about their troubles. Loor and I walked through the streets as people flooded out of their homes, headed for the parade route. Everyone was dressed in their colorful best and ready to party. Even seeing a Rokador, me, didn’t seem to bother them. This was a night of celebration. They’d have plenty of time for hatred tomorrow.

Loor and I arrived at the parade route in the village square where she had fought the zhou beast. Spectators packed the upper levels of the pyramids to get a look down at the show. The parade was made up of groups of dancers wearing rainbow colors doing traditional dances, bands playing flutelike instruments and leather skin drums, and colorful, giant animals made out of paper. I saw a dozen paper zhou beasts, in every color of the rainbow, along with giant snakes that had giant fangs. The marchers in front of them pretended to be battling them with paper spears. Loor explained how this represented the dangerous journey of Azhra through the desert.

It was a long parade too, with many musicians and marchers. The parade entered the square, wound around the statue of the Ghee battling the zhou beast, and continued out the opposite side. From above, happy spectators cheered and rained down colorful confetti. It was like New Year’s Eve, Mardi Gras, Chinese New Year, and a Thanksgiving Day parade all rolled into one.

I looked to Loor. My heart went out to her. Only hours before her best friend had been killed. Here at the parade, it seemed as if she was able to forget that for a brief moment and enjoy the spectacle with the eyes of an innocent child. I was glad to see that she could relax. At least for a short time. I didn’t hate it either. We both needed it.

“Is it like this every year?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “But this seems particularly festive. Maybe it is a way of releasing the tension.”

I’m sure she was right. These people needed a break. This festival came at a perfect time.

“We should go to the palace,” Loor said.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the parade route. We jogged through the marchers and dancers, musicians and floats. Many of the dancers met me and put a wreath of paper flowers around my neck. I thought it was interesting that they would do this to a Rokador. It made me realize that these were good people and not mindless, drum-beating vigilantes who wanted nothing more than to crush the Rokador. These were ordinary people, just trying to get by. But survival is a strong instinct. Before that night, I felt as if the Batu were the aggressors who wanted to strike out at the only enemy they could target. The Rokador. That may have been true, but this festival made them feel human. More than ever, I truly hoped this war could be avoided.

On that mad dash through the parade, I also saw the more human face of Loor. She laughed and danced with the musicians as they continually stopped her and gave her flowers. Up until then I had mostly seen her warrior side. Seeing the real Loor made my feelings for her even stronger, if that was possible. This may be weird to say under the circumstances, but for a few minutes there I kind of felt as if we were on a date. At one point we were stopped at an intersection while a thirty-foot-long red snake wound its way in front of us. I pulled Loor back because she was about to walk right into it. She looked at me and laughed. Her face absolutely lit up. She was beautiful. The two of us stood there for a moment, looking at each other. All I wanted to do was kiss her. I moved in slightly, expecting her to back off. She didn’t. I think she wanted to kiss me, too. It was perfect. The confetti fell down around us like colorful snow. Music was everywhere; Batu revelers surrounded us, singing and dancing. But for that moment it felt like the two of us were alone. In many ways we were. We were so different than everybody else there. Nobody knew what we knew or had seen the things we’d seen. Loor and I were forever joined, not only in the battle against Saint Dane, but in the bond that was created by the fact that we owed our lives to each other. It was a magical moment that my words can’t begin to describe.

I didn’t kiss her. I’m not sure why I stopped. Maybe I didn’t want to risk the rejection. Or to move our relationship into uncharted water. Even though my feelings for her were stronger than ever, we had work to do. We couldn’t let anything stand in the way of that. If we were meant to be together, we would be. But not until our job was done. So I backed off. I’m not sure if the look on her face was disappointment, or relief. Either way, the moment had passed and we moved on.

She led me through the insane party to another large square and the royal palace of Zinj. The building was breathtaking. Where all the other pyramids of Xhaxhu were made from brown sandstone, the palace was pure white. I don’t know if it was made of marble or what, but it stood out among the brown buildings like a brilliant, magical castle. Everything about the palace was white. The stone stairs leading to the immense front doors, the many giant statues that lined both sides of these stairs, even the elaborate fountain on the roof. It was carved to look like a beautiful oasis full of palm trees and flowers. For the occasion the fountain was actually working. Water jetted up in several places to form intricate patterns that danced across one another. It gave me a brief reminder of what Xhaxhu was like before the drought.

“Here!” Loor declared. “I come to this spot for every celebration.”

She positioned us on a series of steps that led up to the building right next to the palace. From there we had a perfect view of the palace. Halfway up the palace stairs, a platform was erected that I figured would be where Pelle a Zinj would make his speech. It was draped with purple cloth, making it look very regal. On the platform were two heavy, stone chairs that looked like thrones. Tonight the people of Xhaxhu would hear about their future from the one they trusted the most. I felt as if we were in the right spot at the right time.

The square below us was full of people awaiting the parade and the speech. When the parade arrived, thousands more revelers came with them. Soon the square was packed to capacity. There was cheering and music and general joyous mayhem. These guys really knew how to throw a party!

“Look,” Loor said, pointing to the palace.

I had been so interested in the parade, I hadn’t notice that the royal platform was now occupied. Two people sat in the thrones-a man and a woman who looked to be in their sixties. They wore elaborate, purple robes with colorful, beaded collars. Both had on golden crowns. They weren’t big and goofy looking either. They were actually pretty simple.

“The king and queen,” Loor said, though I pretty much had that figured out on my own.

Joining the two on the stage was a familiar face-Pelle a Zinj. He, too, wore a purple robe, but it was nowhere near as elaborate as his parents’. Same with his crown. It was barely a small circle of gold. It looked more like a halo than a regal crown. Pelle stood at the front of the platform, looking down on the festivities with a huge smile. As tough as it must have been to have the responsibility of ruling an entire tribe, there had to be some good times too. This was one of them. As Loor put it, he and his family were the voices of reason. They did not want war with the Rokador. I knew our paths would have to cross. He could very well be our best ally against Saint Dane here on Zadaa.

Behind him, protecting the platform, was a group of around seven Ghee warriors. These guys really stood out because they were wearing the black armor. They looked like the Secret Service in charge of guarding the boss. All they needed were shades and earpieces. Nobody was going to mess with the royal family with those goons standing guard.

Pelle’s gaze rose from the parade below to look out over the crowd. He had this great smile on his face that showed how much he loved his city, and his people. His gaze wandered across, and fell on me. I expected his smile to fall when he saw this somewhat tan Rokador intruding on his party. Instead his smile grew even bigger. He waved to me and touched his heart as if to say: “I am glad you are here.” I did the same. It was an awesome experience, like I had just been acknowledged by the president or something. That wasn’t the end of it. Pelle whispered something to his Ghee bodyguards, and pointed to me. Uh-oh. Was this all some cruel joke? Was he going to have his bouncers throw me out? The guards scowled and shook their heads. Whatever Pelle told them, they weren’t happy about it.

“What is happening?” Loor asked.

A moment later we had our answer. Pelle walked down off the platform and made his way through the crowd toward us! This guy truly was a man of the people. He didn’t stand on ceremony. He put on a disguise so he could watch the warriors battle in the square, he visited his subjects in the hospital, and he didn’t mind coming down from his pedestal to visit with a common person. An enemy Rokador, no less. Me.

“Pelle is coming to see us!” I said, barely believing it.

Pelle had trouble getting through the crowd. Everybody wanted to touch him or his robe. He smiled at everyone and touched as many as he could, kind of like the Zadaa version of a politician. If there was a baby held up, he probably would have kissed it. Two of the Ghee guards followed close behind, looking tense. They weren’t happy about this spontaneous visit. The others stayed behind with the king and queen. None of them were armed. That was the rule of the festival. They looked pretty scary just the same.

“What do we do?” I asked nervously.

“Be sure to bow,” Loor said. “Call him ‘Your Majesty’ and let him do the talking.”

“But this is our chance,” I said. “He’s the big boss. If we can get in good with him, it might help us deal with Saint Dane.”

Pelle was getting closer. Whatever plan we were going to come up with, we had to do it fast.

“We cannot be too forward,” Loor cautioned. “Be polite. That will impress him. He will remember that, if we need to call upon him in the future.”

“Got it. Impress. Polite. I can do that.”

The crowd on the stairs next to us parted as the prince of Xhaxhu approached.

“Pendragon, my friend! You are well!” he said with a big, warm smile.

Unbelievable. He even remembered my name.

“I am so happy,” he continued. “And you have gotten some color! If I didn’t know better, I would have mistaken you for a Batu.”

“I am healthy once again, thanks to your kindness, Your Majesty,” I said while bowing deeply. Loor bowed too.

“Please,” he said. “It is I who should be grateful to you.”

“I do not understand, Your Majesty,” I said.

“Now that you are healthy, I trust you will keep your promise to return to your people and explain that as long as I am ruler of Xhaxhu, there will be no war.”

Oops. I had forgotten about that.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” I said, bowing again. “I remained here in Xhaxhu so that I may accept your generous invitation to the greatest festival I have ever seen. Tomorrow I will return to pass along your message.”

“Wonderful,” Pelle exclaimed. “Our people need each other. I am confidant that once this horrible drought is over, and it will be, we can bring back the atmosphere of mutual respect we both deserve.”

“You are a wise ruler,” I said. “However, there is one thing.”

I sensed Loor glancing at me, worried that I might say something stupid. I was about to take a risk, but this was a golden opportunity to forge an alliance. I couldn’t let it pass.

“What is that, my friend?” he asked.

“There are those who do not wish for peace,” I said. “For them, I fear the drought is simply an excuse to spread hatred among the tribes.”

Pelle sighed and said, “I agree. But do not fear. The rebel Ghee may wave their weapons and bellow loudly, but their numbers are small. I trust that once the drought is over, their voice will no longer be heard in the city of-“

Pelle suddenly stopped speaking. Just like that. In mid-sentence. The expression on his face didn’t change. He simply…stopped talking. Everybody around us stood there awkwardly, not sure about what was going on.

“Majesty?” I asked.

A second later Pelle fell to his knees. The crowd gasped and backed off. A thin line of blood trickled from his lips. As the raucous festival continued around us, the small group of people around Pelle a Zinj stood statue still, frozen in shock. The prince fell forward, flat on his face.

Sticking out of his back was the handle of a thick knife. My brain locked. It was almost an exact copy of what had happened to Alder, except for one thing. Pelle was dead. Nobody moved. Reality hadn’t hit. From the time Pelle stopped talking until total chaos broke out was probably only five seconds, but time slowed down for those few moments. It was an unreal sensation…that got very real, very fast.

“Death to the Batu!” shouted a Rokador who had been standing directly behind Pelle. It was a guy I had never seen before, wearing a long, yellow tunic. Splattered across the front was a wash of blood. Pelie’s blood. This guy was the killer. He had made his way up behind the unprotected prince and stabbed him in the back. I wondered if it was Saint Dane, but realized that it couldn’t be. Saint Dane never did his own dirty work.

“The Rokador will prevail!” the killer shouted, pointing at me. His eyes were crazed. A Ghee guard tackled the guy, the other fell to his knees to protect Pelle. He needn’t have bothered. The crown prince of Xhaxhu was dead. The people around us began to scream and scatter. But the festival was so loud, few of the thousands in this square realized what was happening. On the royal platform, the king and queen glanced over curiously, unaware that their son had just been murdered. The remaining Ghee warriors closed around them protectively forming a shield against the masses.

Loor grabbed my arm and pulled me away. We started up the stairs, only to see a stream of Ghee warriors, in armor, flooding out of a building and pushing their way through the crowd to get to Pelle. They were armed and ready to go. Their dark black armor stood out ominously from the brightly colored tunics of the revelers.

“Not that way,” I said.

“Rokador!” one of the Ghee guards shouted at me. “Do not move!”

In that one second my mind flashed forward to what was about to happen. I was a Rokador who stood only a few feet away from the beloved Batu prince when he was murdered…by another Rokador. Emotions were running high. They might throw me in prison just for being there. Or think I had something to do with it. Or worse, they might tear me apart right then and there out of anger. We had to get gone while everybody was still in shock. There was a small window; we had to take it.

Loor always said, “Never make the first move.” I didn’t. The Ghee guard lunged at me. I was ready to defend myself, but Loor did the honors. With his attention focused on me, Loor got in both the secondandthe third shots. With a quick blur of fists, she hammered the guy and swept his legs out, sending him crashing to the stairs. She may have looked like a beautiful princess, but she was still a Ghee warrior.

“Hurry,” she ordered, and forced her way down the stairs, through the crowd. I was right after her, but before leaving I took one last look at the murder scene. The Batu killer was ranting: “Death to Xhaxhu! Freedom for the Rokador!” He was out of control. The Ghee guard needed help to control this guy, and he got it. The other Ghees arrived from above. Three descended on the killer, burying him in a wave of black armor. The others went right to their fallen prince.

“Pendragon!” Loor called.

I was about to follow her when I saw something that hit me like a punch in the gut. Several Ghee warriors were lifting the body of Pelle a Zinj to get him off the steps. They were all focused on their fallen leader. All but one. This one guy looked away from Pelle, and right at me. I knew who it was. It was the same Ghee who nearly beat me to death in the warrior compound. It was Saint Dane. He gave me a small smile and a wink.

I felt the blood drain from my head. I nearly passed out right there. I probably would have if Loor hadn’t yanked my arm and pulled me away from the scene. We fought our way through the dense crowd of joyous Batu who still didn’t know that their lousy lives were about to get a lot lousier. The parade continued, the music played, the cheering echoed off the pyramids. It wouldn’t last long. As the saying goes, this was then-last hurrah. Loor and I pushed our way through the crowd and moved back along the parade route to get to her home. It was surreal. We didn’t say a word to each other along the way. I was on autopilot. I don’t even remember much of the trip. That’s because my mind was racing ahead, wondering what would come next. As we ran, an idea began to take shape. The more I thought about it, the more I felt sure I was right. It wasn’t a happy thought.

We finally got out of the crowd and stood together in the entryway of a pyramid trying to catch our breaths. Loor was so wired, she paced like an angry cat. I knew that when I told her what I was thinking, she’d become even angrier.

“That was it,” I said softly.

“That was what?” she asked, her eyes wide and wild. “The end of our chance for peace? The death of the lone voice of reason? The destruction of Xhaxhu? Tell me something I do not know, Pendragon.”

“Saint Dane was there,” I told her.

Loor shot me a surprised look. “Are you certain?” she asked.

“How could I forget?” I said. “He took the form of a Ghee warrior. The one who nearly beat me to death. I don’t think I could mistake that.”

“So he had something to do with Pelle’s death?”

“Probably,” I said. “He might have snuck that Rokador near the palace, or given him the knife, or talked him into assassinating Pelle for all I know.”

“Without Pelle, the chances for war just became greater.”

“Especially because he was killed by a Rokador,” I added. “Revenge is going to get people’s blood boiling. But there’s more. I think this was it.”

“You said that before,” Loor barked. “What do you mean?”

My stomach turned over. I felt sick. I knew I was right, and it was killing me.

“This was the turning point,” I said flatly. “The turning point for Zadaa.”

Loor gave me a blank stare. Maybe her mind didn’t want to accept it. “Why do you say that?” she finally said, though much softer.

“Because if we hadn’t been there, Pelle would still be alive,” I answered. “He was safely on that platform, protected by his guards. There was no way that assassin would have gotten to him. But he came into the crowd to see us. We changed the equation. The turning point on Zadaa just got pushed the wrong way, and we helped push it.”

This is where I’m ending my journal, guys. I’m going to send it to you through my ring right now. Tomorrow Loor and I leave for the underground. Our goal is to get to Kidik and learn the truth that Bokka died trying to tell us. We have no choice. Saint Dane is waiting. This would be a dangerous trip under any circumstances, but now the clock is ticking. Pelle a Zinj is dead. That’s the tragedy I referred to at the beginning of this journal. With his murder, there’s no doubt that the Batu will attack the Rokador. The only question is, when?

Be well. Be safe. The next time I send you a journal, it will probably be from far below the surface of Zadaa.

And so we go.

END JOURNAL #21