grand statement to the crowd before sending him plunging to his death. For once I wanted Saint Dane to be his usual, arrogant self. I needed the time. As I drew closer to the platform, I saw that the number of dados had grown. It would only be a matter of time before they realized that somebody was making trouble and try to stop me. I couldn’t afford to be cautious anymore.
It was time to get dangerous.
I raised the silver weapon and hit the button. I felt the power surge as it kicked on. I started flashing the powerful wand at the dados in my way. Most never knew what hit them. They were too busy scanning the crowd to realize that one of their own was on a rampage. I flashed the weapon left and right, nailing dados with each swing, knocking their lights out. I guess you could say I was charged with bloodlust as well, or whatever it is that runs through dado veins. I wanted to mow down as many as I could, as fast as I could.
I kept glancing up at the platform, hoping for more time. The stairs were within reach. Two dados were stationed at the bottom. They barely had time to raise and activate their own weapons before I sliced them both, knocking them to the ground. I was on the stairs, flying up three at a time.
The crowd continued chanting. Mark was still alive. I knew what I had to do. Nevva was my quarry. If she was the executioner, she would have her finger on the switch. If I was to save Mark, I would have to stop Nevva.
I couldn’t hear anything but the fevered screaming of the crowd. My wand was up and ready. When my head cleared the platform, I saw exactly what I’d hoped to find. Saint Dane was out in front, facing the crowd. Mark stood with a dado on either side of him, keeping him still. Nevva was to the far right of the platform, near one of the uprights of the gallows. There was a small plate on the back side of that upright. On it was a series of switches.
Nevva’s hand was on them.
Saint Dane turned to Nevva and nodded.
It was Mark’s death sentence.
Nevva put her finger on the center switch.
I wasn’t going to make it in time.
“Nevva!” I screamed, hoping to throw her off long enough for me to reach her and knock her into eternity.
Nevva turned toward me. I saw the surprise on her face. It wasn’t enough to stop her. Nevva threw the switch. The door beneath Mark’s feet swung away. He started to fall. I dropped the weapon and dove for him, hoping to catch him before he disappeared beneath the floor. I hit the deck on my belly and slid toward the opening with my arms outstretched.
Time seemed to slow down. I felt the fabric of Mark’s shirt fall past the tips of my fingers. I tried to grab on to something, but got only air. The next second felt as if it took an eternity to pass. My eyes were on the slack rope… that suddenly went taught. The gallows shuddered briefly. Not a sound came from below. Though he had fallen into the enclosed tube and could not be seen by the crowd, they knew what had happened. Their reaction told the story. A huge, triumphant cheer erupted. I barely heard it. The only sound that cut through to me was the slow, steady creak that came from a rope that had been pulled tight, straining to hold the weight of my best friend.
Mark was dead. Nevva had killed him. Ravinia had killed him. Saint Dane had killed him. I focused past the swinging rope at the thousands of people who shouted and cheered at the death of a hero. And I snapped.
I rolled and swept up the electric wand. Somebody was going to suffer for what had happened. The two best candidates were up there with me on that platform. The dados ran for me. One got there first and paid the price for his efficiency. I skewered him with the wand and pushed him off the edge of the platform.
The other dado held back. It was the first time I had seen a dado actually make a smart move. It saved his life, at least for a little while. Fine by me. It wasn’t the dado I cared about. I wanted Nevva. She stood frozen near the controls she had just used to kill Mark. It didn’t seem like she was going to put up a fight. I didn’t care. She could defend herself or not. She was going to die.
I reached my arm back, ready to lance her with the wand, when I was tackled from behind. The second dado had regrouped and made its move. I had been so blinded by anger, I didn’t expect the attack. I hit the deck, hard. The weight of the dado knocked the wind out of me. Nevva finally made her move. She went for my outstretched arm and grabbed the wand. It all played out so quickly and violently that I couldn’t believe what had happened. I struggled to get away from the dado. To get at Nevva. Too late. More dados had arrived on the platform and grabbed me.
“I’ll kill you!” I screamed at Nevva, totally out of my mind. “I swear, I’ll kill you!”
I was blinded by rage. Tears streamed down my cheeks. Mark was hanging on the end of a rope. All he ever did was try to help me and others who needed it. This was his final reward. I wanted to be dead myself. I wanted to explode.
I wanted to feel my hands around Nevva Winter’s throat. I’m not proud of these insane, violent feelings, but I have to write down exactly what happened. In those few seconds up on that platform, I believe I had lost my mind. The dados kept me down, my cheek jammed onto the platform floor. Through the tears, I saw Saint Dane lean down to me.
“If only you had accepted the inevitable,” he said. “But I suppose that was not the way it was meant to be. For the last time, Pendragon, good-bye.”
I screamed. It wasn’t a word or a sentence or anything that was understandable. It was an outpouring of raw emotion, frustration, and grief.
Saint Dane left the platform. Nevva gave me a quick glance. She didn’t say a word. At least she had the decency not to make this nightmare any worse than it was. I was left alone on the platform with the dados, and the swinging rope that was a reminder that my best friend was hanging below. Dead.
Once Saint Dane left, the crowd had had enough. The chanting died. Whatever need they had to experience a murder had been filled. They were already dispersing. Many followed the line of dados as they marched out with their red flags snapping in the breeze. There was nothing more for them to see. They didn’t have a view of the hanging body of my friend. He was inside the circular base of the gallows. Maybe Saint Dane was afraid that if his followers actually saw the result of their decision, they’d start having second thoughts. As it was, all they knew was that the prisoner had been executed. They didn’t have to witness anything gruesome.
My heart continued to race. I was breathing hard. It was surreal. None of what had happened seemed possible.
I must have gone into shock. Fighting against the dados seemed useless. If I wanted to, I could have gone to any territory I chose. But I didn’t. My mind was too far gone for that. Thinking straight wasn’t a possibility. The dados must have sensed that I was no longer resisting, because they lifted me to my feet. Two held my hands twisted behind my back. Another held a silver weapon in front of my face as a warning. In other words, “Don’t try anything or zap' I didn’t react. I didn’t plan on trying anything. The dado with the weapon turned and started down the stairs. I was led after him. The final dado followed behind. We hit the bottom of the stairs just as a door in the silver tube swung open. It was a section of the steel skin at the bottom of the stairs. Two Ravinian guards stepped out from inside and marched off. They left the door open wide.
I looked inside… and wished I hadn’t.
It was as hideous a sight as I imagined. My friend hung by the neck at the end of the rope. His head was cocked at an impossible angle. His body swayed slightly. All I could hope for was that his death had been quick. I began to shake uncontrollably. I don’t know what it was. Maybe some kind of outpouring of emotion. I guess it was my version of crying. I felt as if I were walking through a dream. A violent, impossible dream.
The Ravinian guards pulled me away from the door and brought me back toward the stairs that led up and into the Taj Mahal. We climbed. I didn’t resist. What was the point? When we reached the top of the stairs, Elli was there, being held by two dados. She was in tears. She didn’t say anything, and that was good. I wouldn’t have known how to respond. Nothing she could have said would make this better. I’d lost my best friend, and the person who pulled the switch was her daughter. We each had to deal with our own private agony.
The dado escorts moved us both toward the Taj Mahal. Elli didn’t put up a fight either. The next thing I registered was a small patrol of Ravinian guards walking toward us. Six in all. They marched in tight formation, two by two, holding silver weapons to their sides. As dazed as I was, something felt off to me. This team of dados was headed directly at us. Quickly. I sensed the hesitation on the part of the dados who were holding me. It seemed some odd game of chicken was about to be played out. I expected the oncoming dados to walk around us-after all,
