than ever. I felt as if I were shaking, but I knew that wasn’t the case. It was such an intense feeling that as I looked around at the other Travelers, I half expected them to be glowing. In fact, just the opposite was happening. For brief moments some of the other Travelers seemed to fade out, becoming momentarily transparent. A second later their images would return, but then other Travelers would fade. And return. I fought panic. Was this the end? Had we gone too far in trying to create this impossible phenomenon? Had we sucked all the life out of Solara, and now all that was left was for us to wink out along with it?
Below the far edge of the circle, I caught sight of the first line of gray rocks that I knew would be continuing down until it became a tunnel to infinity. The light grew dim as it sank deeper. I looked up at the other Travelers, fearing that they would fade out along with it. Everyone was there. Rock solid.
A moment later the music ended. The light below went dark. I looked up to make sure that all the Travelers were there. I counted ten. Plus me. All eleven of us stood in the circle, dazed. I looked to the ground to see a large, round hole, maybe twenty yards across. We had done it.
We had made a new flume.
And we were all still there to see it. “Well,” I said casually, “that’s something you don’t see every day.”
Spader laughed first, followed by Uncle Press, then Patrick. Soon everyone was laughing. Not because of my casual understatement, but out of relief. We had done it and we were all there. Uncle Press came over and put his arm around my shoulders.
“To be honest, I didn’t think it would work,” he said.
“Oh great, now you tell me.”
The moment of triumph passed. Creating the flume was only the beginning. We stood staring at one another, not sure what to do next.
It was Aja who stepped up. “I think Patrick should go to Third Earth to see where the attack stands.”
“I can’t,” Patrick declared.
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because I just tried. Nothing happened.”
“You tried to travel to Third Earth?” I asked quickly. “Just now? And you’re still here?”
“I think Press was right,” Patrick said, glum. “Whatever powers we had as Travelers are gone.”
“But we are still here,” Alder said. “We still exist.”
“What happened, Uncle Press?” I asked.
Uncle Press sighed. “I guess I can be positive and say that you are now the people you always thought you were. Your physical selves are all that is left.”
Gunny said, “So no more healing? No more traveling? What happens to our spirits if we die?”
Uncle Press shrugged and said, “Don’t.”
“So then, what do we do now?” Siry asked.
“This doesn’t change a thing,” I called out. “The dados are still headed this way. I’m going to find Courtney and take one last shot with the exiles. You all should go to Third Earth. Find Mark and be ready.”
“Did you forget, Pendragon?” Siry said. “We can’t travel.”
I looked at the young Jakill from Ibara. He was a brave, dedicated kid. But he didn’t always think things through. I walked to the edge of the new flume and gestured to it with open arms.
“Oh,” he said, embarrassed. “Right.”
“Third Earth!” I called.
The tunnel came to life. The music was back. The lights were back. We were in business.
“I’ll be right behind you,” I said, and jogged toward the village.
My goal was to get back to the council meeting and give them one last warning about the army that was about to arrive on their doorstep. I hoped that maybe by showing them the flume, I’d have a little more credibility. Worst case, if they insisted on staying to defend Black Water, knowing about the flume might help set up an evacuation, if things started going badly. No, that would be when things started going badly. I ran over all the arguments and options in my mind. I had to be positive. I had to convince them.
It wasn’t until I reached the village and almost to the center building that I realized something was wrong. There was no sound. No activity. No gars walking around. No signs of life anywhere. It was eerie. Where had everybody gone? I hoped that it was actually very late at night, and everyone was in bed asleep. I expected to have to track these people down in their homes and wake them up…
When the warning horn sounded. The steady whoop whoop filled the oddly quiet village with ear-numbing sound. The wrong kind of sound. I didn’t think for a second that it was a drill. I ran to the far side of the village, toward the mountains and the tunnel into the valley of waterfalls. I expected to see gars and Yanks running to their posts to man their positions.
I didn’t. I was alone. Where was everybody? Maybe, I thought, they were already at their posts. It was the only explanation. But when I reached the outer ring of the village, I saw that the defensive huts were empty. There were no gars manning the radio cannons, or peering out of windows with arrows at the ready. The huts were dark and quiet.
What was going on?
My eye finally caught movement, but it only added to my confusion. I saw what looked like a pin spot of light glowing on the side of the mountain. It was maybe twenty yards up from the walk able slope, where the rock face turned sheer. It was like nothing I had seen before. Was it some new technology that was brought by the exiles? Was it a visual alarm to go with the horn? Was it an emergency beacon? I stood still, watching. Fascinated. The pin light grew. A beam shot out from the glowing spot and flashed across the sky, casting a line of light over the empty huts of Black Water. All I could do was stare in wonder. The pin spot continued to grow, spilling light onto the face of the mountain. The light became a growing circle. That’s when I realized the truth. I didn’t need to hear the musical notes that soon followed.
I was witnessing the birth of another flume.
Light blasted out of the circle, eating away at the rock, creating the new opening. The music arrived next, quickly growing loud and jangly. I looked back to the village to see if any gars had come out from wherever they were to see what was going on. The village was empty. I was alone. Within a minute the hole of light had grown to thirty yards across. That’s when it stopped. The enormous tunnel was complete. Even from as far away as I was, I recognized the walls of gray stone.
The highway was open.
I knew what was going to happen next.
Saint Dane wasn’t going to wait until morning.
Enough light glowed from the flume so that I could see what was coming in. This tunnel stretched to another world. From deep inside, marching in step, came the first line of invaders, carrying red Ravinian flags. They marched to the mouth of the new tunnel and continued down the slope toward the village. There were more. Many more. Looking beyond them into the flume, I saw no end to them. Like a swarm of red locusts, the Ravinian army poured from the depths of infinity, bent on their deadly mission.
Saint Dane had sent his entire force to march on Black Water.
The final battle for Halla had begun.
Chapter 37
Wave after wave of dados marched out of the flume, headed toward the village of Black Water.
Some wore the uniform of the Ravinian soldiers. Others were dressed in the green uniform and gold helmet of the security dados from Quillan. There were even hundreds of dado klees that came pouring out. All were armed with the silver prods that could extinguish life with a single shot. Unlike the attack on Black Water by the klees, these dados weren’t interested in capturing anybody for food. This was an army of execution. As far as I could tell, every dado we had seen in the factory on Third Earth had made the journey. It meant that Saint Dane was pulling out all the stops. This was his final assault. He wanted to complete his quest by destroying every last one of the exiles.
But where were they?
