moving hangar doors had suddenly become our friends, because by the time they opened them again, we’d be long gone. I relaxed. We had made it.
Suddenly the gig lurched and bounced. “What was that?” I asked nervously. “Are we losing power?”
“No,” Kasha answered calmly. “I believe that was the klee falling off from below.”
Oh. Yeah. Right. That guy. I hoped it was a dado.
“You remember where we’re going?” I asked.
“Like it was yesterday,” she replied.
Kasha took us up high over Leeandra into the beautiful blue skies of Eelong. Looking out of the open cockpit gave us a three-sixty view of the territory. It was just as stunning as I’d remembered it. The jungle canopy that was now below us looked like a sea of green clouds. I let myself enjoy the view. There wasn’t anything I could do just then, except to catch my breath and wonder what we would find when we hit Black Water.
Seeing the familiar jungles of Eelong made me think back to something Nevva had said. When she heard that Saint Dane was going to launch a dado attack on the exiles, she was genuinely upset. Besides not wanting to harm the exiles, she said something to the effect of “that territory was to remain untouched.” I didn’t know what she meant at the time, but thinking about it and seeing that Eelong was pretty much the same Eelong as before, I wondered if Saint Dane had told Nevva that Eelong would evolve without much interference. Earth had been devastated. The other territories were in different stages of decay and destruction. But not Eelong. I could tell that by looking over the side of the gig as we sailed overhead. Leeandra had become more modernized, but the jungles below were unspoiled. Was it possible that Nevva held on to the hope that not all of Halla would be crushed by Saint Dane in order to fulfill his vision?
Nevva bought into Saint Dane’s philosophy. That much was for sure. But I don’t believe she was evil. Misguided, maybe. A little too willing to achieve her goals at the expense of others, definitely. But she wasn’t an evil person. If Saint Dane promised not to harm Eelong, then he had broken his promise to her. Who knows? Was that one act enough to make Nevva realize that Saint Dane’s way of thinking was wrong? She was fiercely loyal, but how loyal can you be to someone who betrays you? In the end, Nevva chose to help us. To help her mother. Her natural mother. For that, she paid with her life. I still didn’t know if her help would make a difference, but if there’s some small ray of light that came from this whole mess, it’s that Nevva Winter became the person her mother always wanted her to be. She became a Traveler who tried to defend Halla. Wherever she is, assuming she is anywhere, I hope she knows that she made the right choice.
“Look there!” Boon called out.
We had been flying for a few hours. I was daydreaming, lost in my thoughts. Or maybe I was dreaming for real. Whatever. While I was out, we had left the jungle and reached the miles of wasteland that separated the vegetated regions and the majestic, rocky mountains where Black Water was hidden. Looking over the side of the gig, I was met with a frightening sight.
We had caught up with the Ravinian army. They marched below us, moving toward the mountains. It was a formidable force. There had to be thousands of klees, all marching in formation. Half the force wore the uniforms of the Ravinians guards. Many carried the red flags of Ravinia. I wondered if they were all dados. The other half wore dark green, lightweight armor. These were soldiers from Leeandra. On their backs they carried their weapons. They had staves, lassos, and bolas.
Most walked, but there were many, probably officers, who rode on zenzens. The large horses with the multijointed legs bucked and bridled as they were coaxed along the rocky path toward their meeting with the gars. There were also small, mechanized vehicles that carried equipment of some kind, but I couldn’t tell what it might be. Were they weapons? Provisions? From that high up in the air, I couldn’t tell.
Most disturbing of all was the line of covered transport trucks that followed at the rear. I figured there were even more klees inside, but had no doubt what they would be used for after the battle. These would be the transports that would bring the captured gars back to Leeandra. These gars weren’t going to be prisoners of war. They were to be food for the Ravinians. The sight of those trucks turned my stomach for so many reasons. Not only because of the gruesome cargo they were meant to carry, but because of the vicious philosophy that drove the klees to be hunting gars in the first place.
There was only one thing I was happy about while looking down on this army. They had not reached Black Water yet. I had no idea what we could do to stop them, but at least we wouldn’t be too late.
Kasha said, “They have another half day’s journey. Then they must make their way over the mountains to enter the valley before reaching Black Water. We have time, Pendragon.”
I nodded, but didn’t say what I was thinking: Sure, but time for what?
We flew on, headed for the mountain range and Black Water. I remembered hiking up the narrow, rocky path that led to a narrow cleft in the mountains and a long, winding path that eventually opened up onto a beautiful, green valley. I remembered the large lake in the center of that valley, and the forest, and the seven waterfalls, one of which protected the entrance to Black Water. It was only when the sunbelt hit that waterfall at a certain angle that it cast a shadow that blocked all light, making its water seem black. That was the only way into the second valley, which was the home of the gars. It was surrounded on all sides by impassable mountains. The only way in was through that cave tunnel behind the waterfall. Or you could fly. Obviously, our plan was to fly.
“It might get a little bumpy over the mountains with updrafts,” Kasha explained. “Make sure your belts are tight.”
Boon and I buckled down. As fun as it was to fly in an open cockpit, it wouldn’t have been wise to get ejected by sudden turbulence. Soon we were sailing over the rocky spires of the first range of mountains. Kasha was right. It was bumpy.
“Do not worry, this is normal,” Kasha assured us.
In no time we had cleared the front range, and I could look down onto that amazing, green valley that was so out of place among the gray, dry mountains.
“Nothing has changed,” Boon called out above the whine of the rotors.
It reminded me again of what Nevva said to Saint Dane. The valley was as spectacular as I remembered. Nevva expected it to stay that way. I wondered if it would.
We had gotten maybe halfway across when we were hit with sudden turbulence. The gig must have dropped several yards, then suddenly rocketed higher. I looked to Kasha, waiting for her assurance that we were okay.
She didn’t give it.
“That was not normal,” she announced.
The craft was suddenly thrown again. It was like we where hit with something that knocked us sideways. Were we under attack? I couldn’t tell. The gig wasn’t damaged and we definitely didn’t hear anything being fired from the ground.
“Are those updrafts?” I asked, hoping that she would give me a simple, “Yes.”
She didn’t. Kasha looked worried. That was something I hadn’t seen in her before.
“Whatever it is, it is not natural.”
We were hit again, and again. Each time, the little gig was buffeted. First one way, then the other.
“I cannot maintain control,” Kasha announced with a voice that was way too calm for the circumstances.
“Get us down!” I shouted. “Whatever it is, we’re better off not flying in it.”
We were hit again. The gig began to spin.
“Kasha?” Boon called nervously.
I looked over the side to see that the ground was coming up fast.
“There’s a clearing beyond the lake,” I announced. “I’ll try to keep us in the air long enough to reach it,” Kasha replied.
The gig was rocked again. We nearly went over sideways, but Kasha was able to right us. It was amazing that she was as skillful as she was, considering she hadn’t flown in a long while.
“Brace yourselves,” she called out. “I don’t know how hard we’ll hit.”
She held on to the control stick with both paws, fighting gravity and the rotors and whatever force was knocking us out of the sky.
“Thirty feet!” I called out as a warning. “Move forward!
We were still over the water. It wouldn’t have been good to land on wet.
We were hit again; this time we were knocked forward, as if we had gotten a huge kick from behind.
