“Why aren’t you with Yenza and Manoo?” asked Uncle Press.
“Those two are on a futile quest,” she answered with a huff. “My time is better spent elsewhere.”
This was weird. Had she followed us?
“Now,” she said. “Young Spader. Did you find what you came for?”
Spader answered her with a confused look. Uncle Press and I did the same. What was she talking about?
“I didn’t think it was possible, myself,” she explained. “Like all you wet little Clorans, I thought the lost city of Faar was a myth. That is, until I saw the symbol your father had drawn for you. He was a resourceful Traveler. I’m guessing he discovered the city was real and knew its location. Now I think you know it too.”
Uh-oh. Uncle Press stiffened beside me. The hair began to stand up on my neck. I was afraid I knew exactly where this was going and it was a very, very bad place.
“How could you know?” Spader asked, dumbfounded. He had no clue what was going on, but he was about to find out.
Nassi looked to Uncle Press and gave him a catlike grin.
“Ahh, Press. Don’t you just love them when they’re young?” she asked. “Such… innocence.”
And then it happened. The agronomer Nassi began to transform before our eyes. Her face contorted, her body shifted, her whole figure grew watery and unformed. It only took about five seconds, but I guarantee they were five seconds that Spader would replay in his mind for the rest of his life. I probably would too, but I had seen it before. Her hair grew long and gray. Her body rose to a solid seven feet tall. Her clothes changed from Cloral blue to the black suit that was all too familiar. And again, what stood out most were the eyes. They became icy blue and charged with an evil fire.
“Does it make more sense to you now, water boy?” snarled the tall, ominous figure.
Spader looked at me with total confusion.
“It’s Saint Dane,” I said with no emotion. “He’s been playing with us all along.”
CLORAL
You naughty boys, you sank my battleship,” Saint Dane said playfully, as if he really didn’t care.
Spader looked to me and to Uncle Press. I think he was in shock. Nothing had prepared him for seeing Saint Dane transform the way he did. I wasn’t exactly comfortable with it either, but at least I had seen it before so I didn’t go into total mind lock.
“The poison fertilizer?” asked Uncle Press. “Was it your doing?”
Saint Dane let out an evil laugh. Here we go again. I hate it when the bad guys laugh. It always means they know more than you do.
“You give me too much credit, Press, my friend,” Saint Dane said. “You know I don’t initiate anything.”
“But you don’t mind helping it along,” Uncle Press added.
“Of that, I am guilty. That weasel Manoo and his agronomers would have abandoned their experiments years ago if I hadn’t convinced them otherwise. It was so easy to feed their egos. I told them they would be heroes for saving Cloral from starvation for generations to come!” He laughed ironically.
“They were too blinded by visions of glory to realize they were brewing up the means to kill every living soul on the territory. Surprise!”
“So youdidkill my father,” Spader spat at Saint Dane.
“Indirectly, I suppose,” Saint Dane said, beginning to sound bored. “But we’re all much better off with one less Traveler, don’t you think?”
This pushed Spader over the edge. He lunged at Saint Dane, ready to grab his throat. But Saint Dane pulled a quick draw from under his coat and jammed a silver pistol into Spader’s chest, stopping him cold. Spader’s eyes were wild with hatred, but there was nothing he could do.
“Talk to Pendragon,” Saint Dane said calmly. “He knows you can’t defeat me.”
“No?” I jumped in. “What about Denduron?”
Saint Dane turned to look at me for the first time. His cold blue eyes gave me a chill.
“A minor inconvenience,” he said. “This game has only begun, Pendragon.”
“Game?” shouted Spader. “You killed hundreds of people. This isn’t a game!”
“But of course it is,” answered Saint Dane. And with that he began to transform again. His body grew liquid, he shrank slightly, and when the change was complete, standing before us was Zy Roder, the raider pilot.
“This is very much a game,” he said with a different, raspier voice. “And the stakes are high indeed!”
At that moment the door flew open from the hallway and several more raiders entered the apartment. They all held silver guns like the one Roder/Saint Dane had. Any thoughts we had about escaping had just gotten very dim.
“Now,” said Roder/Saint Dane. “I have a question for you.
Tell me what you know about this place called ‘Faar.’”
We all did our best not to look at each other.
“Faar is a children’s story,” Spader finally answered. “What is it you want to know?”
Roder/Saint Dane jammed his silver gun into Spader’s chest, making him wince in pain.
“Please don’t waste my time trying to be coy,” Roder/Saint Dane said. “I saw the symbol of Faar on your father’s desk.”
“I knew that he’d been searching for Faar,” he continued. “But when I saw the symbol, I knew he’d been successful.”
“You were there?” I said, stunned. “On Magorran?”
“To be precise, Po Nassi was there,” he chuckled. “Only seconds before you three arrived.”
I got the feeling that Saint Dane loved fooling people with his little charades.
I really hated this guy.
He then looked directly into Spader’s eyes and said, “Your father discovered Faar and passed the information to you, didn’t he?”
Spader didn’t move. He wasn’t about to give Roder/Saint Dane the two pieces of map. No way. But Roder/Saint Dane flashed forward with his free hand and grabbed Spader around the neck. Both Uncle Press and I made a move to stop him, but the other raiders jumped between us, holding us back.
“Tell me,” Roder/Saint Dane seethed. His strength was incredible because he lifted Spader off the ground with only one hand. “Tell me what you know, or I’ll first kill Pendragon, then Press, and then I’ll go back to Grallion and see what mischief we can get into there. The only one I won’t kill is you. You’ll have to live knowing they died because you wouldn’t tell me what I will find out soon enough anyway.”
Spader was turning blue. Both Uncle Press and I struggled to get away from the raiders, but it was no use. There was nothing we could do to help Spader.
Then, slowly, Spader reached into his pocket for the map.
“Don’t!” I shouted. But it was too late. Spader pulled out the two map halves and tossed them on the ground. Instantly Roder/Saint Dane threw him down and Spader collapsed on the floor, gasping for breath. Another raider picked up the two pieces of paper and handed them to Roder/Saint Dane. The evil Traveler held the two pieces together and studied them for a few seconds.
He then let out a smile and said, “It’s so simple. Thank you, Spader. Now Cloral has absolutely no hope of fighting off the plague I’ve nurtured for so long.”
Huh? What did a mythical lost city have to do with the killer fertilizer that was spreading across the territory?
Boom! Agunshot sounded from out in the hallway that sent the raiders scrambling for cover. I can’t believe I acted as fast as I did, but in the one second of confusion, I lunged forward and grabbed the two pieces of the map from Roder/Saint Dane.
Boom! Boom! Two more gunshots. Though they weren’t exactly gunshots. Remember how I described the way the water cannons on the battleship fired compact missiles of water? As it turned out, that’s exactly whatallthe guns on Cloral fired. And right now, standing out in the hallway was Wu Yenza and two aquaneers. I wasn’t sure
