shrugged. Before I could ask any more, Uncle Press disappeared down into the subway.
I said to Loor, “Yeah, I know — we’ll learn more as we go along.”
“Don’t ask so many questions, Pendragon,” she said. “Save them for when it is truly important.” She then followed Uncle Press.
Truly important? Wasn’t all this bizarro stuff truly important? I wanted to know! But since I was now standing alone and feeling dumb out here all by myself, the only thing I could do was follow. I was getting good at that.
I hurried down the dirty stairs and squeezed through the opening in the wooden boards that were nailed across the entrance. To the rest of the world this was a closed and abandoned subway station that had outlived its usefulness. To us Travelers, it was the crossroads of Second Earth, my home territory, and our jumping-off point to all the other distant territories. Sounds romantic, doesn’t it? Well, it isn’t. It’s scary.
The filthy subway station was all too familiar to me. Subway trains still flew by, but it had been a long time since any had stopped at this forlorn spot. When I hit the platform, I saw something that brought back a chilling memory. It was the pillar that Uncle Press had hidden behind during his gun battle with Saint Dane. It was a battle that had given me the time to escape and find the gate and the flume that sent me to Denduron.
Saint Dane. There’s a guy I’d like to forget. Uncle Press says he’s a Traveler, like us. But he isn’t exactly like us because the guy is wicked. On Denduron he pushed two rival tribes to the brink of annihilation. But we stepped in and messed things up for him.
Unfortunately Denduron was only the beginning. Saint Dane promised to wreak havoc with all the territories in his quest to rule Halla. That’s key. He wants to rule Halla. Now, I’m no genius, but since Uncle Press described Halla as “every territory, every person, every living thing, everytimethere ever was,” then having a guy like Saint Dane be the ruler is not a very good idea.
What made it all so incredibly creepy was that Saint Dane enjoyed seeing people suffer. I saw that firsthand, too many times. This abandoned subway platform was the first. This was where he hypnotized a homeless guy into jumping to a gruesome death in front of a speeding subway train. It was a coldblooded trick that Saint Dane said was “to give the boy a taste of what was in store for him.”
The boy he referred to was me. Nice guy, huh? I told you before that the worst part about my new life as a Traveler was the fear of the unknown. Well, that’s not entirely true. Right up there on my list of fears is knowing that somewhere, sometime, we would cross paths with Saint Dane again. The guy was worse than dangerous, and it was our job to stop him. Standing there on that platform, I was really wanting a different job.
“Pendragon!” called Loor.
I followed her voice to the end of the platform. I knew this route. We had to climb down onto the subway tracks, carefully avoid getting fried by the third rail, and make our way along the grimy, oil-stained wall until we came upon a wooden door. On this door would be a symbol that looked like a carved star identifying it as a gate. That was our destination.
With Uncle Press in the lead, we moved quickly along the tracks. We had to hurry because a subway train could come charging along at any moment. There wasn’t much room between the tracks and the wall, and a train speeding past our noses would hurt.
As we got closer to the door, I noticed that the ring on my finger began to grow warm. I looked at it and saw that the slate gray stone was beginning to transform. The dark gray color began to melt away and the stone now sparkled. This was the sign that we were getting near a gate. It was amazing how many things I was taking for granted. Once upon a time, the idea of following a possessed, glowing ring to a mysterious door in an abandoned subway station would seem like an off-the-wall dream. Not anymore. Now it felt natural. Sort of.
Uncle Press found the door, opened it, and hurried us all inside.
The cave inside hadn’t changed. I immediately glanced into the dark tunnel that led off into the unknown. This was the flume that would sparkle to life and take us… somewhere. Right now it was quiet, waiting for us to tell it where we were going. I’d only traveled through the flume between Second Earth and Denduron. I had to believe that this time we were going someplace else, and now was the time for Uncle Press to tell us where. Loor and I stood together, waiting for him to show us the way.
“We’re going to split up,” he said.
Whoa. Not a good start. Was he crazy? We shouldn’t be broken apart! Uncle Press knew his way around the cosmos and Loor was a fierce warrior. The idea of fluming off to face Saint Dane by myself without any backup was not something I could get psyched up about. A million thoughts and possibilities flashed through my brain — all of them bad. But just as I was about to break into full panic mode, Loor spoke.
“Why?” she asked flatly.
Nothing like keeping it simple. She was good to have around.
“Since your mother died, you are the Traveler from Zadaa,” he answered. “They’ll need you there soon. I want you to go home and be ready.”
“What about me?” I asked, immediately flying into protest mode.
“You and I are going to Cloral,” was his answer. “Saint Dane went there for a reason and I want to know what it is.”
Good news, bad news. Good news was Uncle Press and I were staying together. Bad news was we were going after Saint Dane. Really bad news.
“But if I’m the Traveler from Second Earth, shouldn’t I stay here?” I asked hopefully. “You know, to take care of stuff?”
Uncle Press gave me a smile. He knew I was trying to weasel out.
“No, it’s best you come with me,” was his simple answer.
Oh well. I wasn’t surprised that my lame attempt at getting out of this trip had failed miserably. But hey, it was worth a shot, right?
Loor then stepped up to me and said, “If you need me, I will be there for you, Pendragon.”
Wow, that blew me away. I guess I had earned her respect after all. I nodded and said, “I’ll be there for you, too.”
We held eye contact for a moment. The bond the two of us had created during the war on Denduron was stronger than I realized. I felt safer with her around, but it was more than that. I liked Loor. In spite of her inability to give an inch on anything, Loor’s heart was always in the right place. I didn’t want to go on without her. And I really believe that if she’d had the choice, she’d have stayed with me. But before I could say another word, she turned and strode into the mouth of the flume. She stared into the dark abyss, took a deep breath, and called out,”Zadaa!”
Instantly the tunnel started to breathe. The rocky walls began to writhe like a giant snake slowly coming to life. Then there was the familiar sound — the jumble of sweet musical notes that came from somewhere deep in the tunnel and grew louder as they rushed toward us. The walls transformed from gray stone into brilliant crystalline gems, just as my ring had as we approached the gate. The light that shone from the tunnel was so bright that I needed to shield my eyes. Loor became nothing more than a dark silhouette standing before the brilliant display. She gave one last look back to us and waved good-bye. Then, in a flash of light, she was swept into the tunnel. The retreating light and music carried her away and back to her home, the territory of Zadaa.
In an instant the show was over and the tunnel returned to darkness.
“Your turn,” said Uncle Press.
“Tell me about Cloral,” I asked, stalling for time. As much as I knew a trip through the flume was kind of fun, I was nervous about what I’d find on the other end. I needed a few seconds to get my act together.
“You’ll find out all you need to know once you get there,” he answered as he nudged me closer to the mouth of the flume. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right behind you.”
“Why don’t you ever give me a straight answer?” I asked.
“I thought you liked surprises?” he answered with a laugh.
“Not anymore Idon’t!”I shoutedback. Uncle Press used to surprise me all the time with great birthday gifts and helicopter rides and camping trips and — basically all the coo-lio things a kid could ever want from an amazing uncle. But lately Uncle Press’s surprises weren’t as fun as they used to be. Especially since they mostly involved me being chased by hungry beasts or shot at or blown up or buried alive or… you get the idea.
“C’mon, you’re no fun anymore,” he teased as he pushed me into the flume.”Cloral!”he shouted, and stepped out as the tunnel sprang back to life. I didn’t even look into the depths because I knew what was coming.
“Fun?” I shouted. “If you think this is fun, you’re crazy!”
