alarm, there would be many more dead than the people of Magorran.
I saw the council members exchange worried glances. Their perfect world was looking a little bit shaky right about now.
“I beg you,” said Uncle Press with passion. “You must send out the Faarians to begin the process of saving the farms as soon as possible. That’s what this man is coming for. He wants to prevent you from saving Cloral.”
“And who will save Faar?” one woman demanded to know. “We are not warriors. Our sole defense has been secrecy. We have no weapons to fight with, no shields to protect us.”
Good question. Nobody had a good answer.
Finally someone spoke up. “Maybe there is a way,” Spader said to the group. “Right now floating above us is an aquaneer from Grallion. I can swim up in a jiff and tell her the score. It wouldn’t take long for her to get back to Grallion, gather a force of aquaneers, and return to stop the raiders. It would be a real natty-do, but I trust my aquaneers against a band of raiders any day!”
“That will never do,” said Kalaloo. “You would have to reveal the existence and location of Faar. Think of what we would be giving up in exchange for their protection.”
“Think of what you’d be giving up if you don’t get any protection,” Uncle Press countered.
It was a tough choice. Nobody was quick to offer an opinion. The decision that would be made in the next few moments, no matter what it was, would change the future of Faar and of Cloral forever.
That’s when an elderly man who had been quiet up until now, stood up. This must have been out of the ordinary, because every one of the council members seemed to snap to attention. It was clear that this guy had their respect. I got the feeling that he didn’t speak much, but when he did, the others listened. In other words, he was theman. He spoke slowly and with a soft rasp.
“We have been preparing for this day since the waters closed over our city,” he began. “No one, not even the builders of the dome, expected us to hide until the end of time. Cloral is a changed world. Mostly, for the better. I believe it is time for us to rejoin it.”
This caused some quiet murmuring among the council members. Finally a woman stood and said, “Are you suggesting we transpire?”
I’m not sure what “transpire” meant, but the woman said it with such horror that I’m guessing it was a pretty dramatic thing.
“No,” the elderly man answered. “Nothing that drastic. I am suggesting we move slowly and reintroduce ourselves to our brothers above.”
“Can I remind you?” interrupted Uncle Press. “We have to move quickly to save the underwater farms. If we don’t you may not have any brothers left up there to reintroduce yourselves to.”
The council members shared troubled looks. They were about to make the most important decision in the history of this city since they discovered the waters were going to rise up and swallow them. It was pretty intense.
I finally got the guts up to say something.
“You’ve been helping the Clorans forever,” I said, trying not to let my voice shake. “Maybe it’s time you let them helpyou.”
The elderly man locked eyes with me. He may have been old and frail, but those fierce eyes told me he was a force that shouldn’t be taken lightly.
“What is your name?” he asked me.
“Pendragon.”
He seemed to be sizing me up, and it was giving me the creeps. I suddenly wished I had kept my mouth shut. But then he gave me a small smile.
“Much has been said before this council today, all of it well-intentioned. But the words of the youngest ring the clearest.”
He then turned to the council and continued with conviction. “It is time to accept help from those we have helped for so long. All in agreement with sending young Spader to return with his aquaneers, say ‘ho.’”
The responses didn’t come all at once. Nobody wanted to go first. But eventually each council member responded with a “ho,” and with every response, they became louder and more assured.
“All against, say ‘no.’”
There wasn’t a single “no” to be heard. The elderly man then turned to us and said, “We have set a new course. Young Spader, please go now. We must act swiftly.”
Spader looked to Uncle Press and me. His eyes were alive with excitement. He was born for this moment.
“Will Yenza do this?” Uncle Press asked him quietly.
“You know that answer,” Spader said with absolute conviction.
“Then what are you still doing here?” Uncle Press said with a smile.
“Hobey-ho!” I said, and gave him a reassuring clap on the shoulder.
“Don’t start the do without me, mates!” he said, then turned and bounded off the platform.
I could only hope that he got to Yenza fast, and that her help wouldn’t be too little, too late.
“Now,” said the elderly man. “There is the matter of the underwater farms. Kalaloo, are we prepared?”
“I believe so,” he answered. “The crafts are being loaded.”
“Then off you go,” the man commanded.
Kalaloo said to us, “Come. You’ll want to see this.”
We definitely wanted to see how the Faarians were going to save the underwater farms. It seemed pretty impossible to me, but as I’ve learned, nothing is impossible.
After a respectful bow to the council members, we started off the platform.
“Pendragon!” called the elderly man.
I stopped and turned back to him.
“This fellow who wants to harm us… should we truly fear him?”
Nowtherewas a question. What he was really asking me was if Saint Dane were capable of destroying Faar. I had to answer this question as truthfully as possible. I didn’t want the council to second-guess their decision. I held the old man’s gaze so he knew how serious I was.
“I could just say yes,” I began. “But the absolute truth is that he is evil beyond your imagination. You can’t back down from him. The biggest mistake you could make would be to not fear him enough.”
The old man nodded in understanding. He looked tired. He raised his hand to me in thanks and to tell me to get going.
Kalaloo hurried us off the council platform, along a different path down the mountain and into a tunnel that brought us into Faar’s mountain. We walked along a narrow hallway that brought us deep inside the city. I was amazed to see wonderful works of art hanging on the walls. Most were posed portraits of stern-looking men and women. I figured they were past council members, but didn’t bother to ask. We had more important things to do than study art history.
“We must go to the base of the mountain,” explained Kalaloo. “That is the staging area.”
“It’s a long way down,” said Uncle Press.
“Not the way we’re going,” answered Kalaloo.
We arrived at a big tube. It came down through the ceiling and disappeared into the floor. There was a door in the tube right in front of us, and I imagined there were more doors if you walked around. Kalaloo led us through the door into a small room that was no bigger than an elevator. As it turned out, that’s exactly what it was. The big tube held four elevators.
Kalaloo grabbed a lever on the side of the room and pushed it forward. I heard awhooshof air, and a moment later we were on our way down. We were hauling, too. There wasn’t any door on this thing and seeing the floors fly by made it seem even faster. I held on to the side of the car nervously. Kalaloo laughed.
“Do not worry, Pendragon. You are floating on a cushion of air. That is how we power so much of Faar, with air that is compressed through channels built into the mountain.”
That was cool. But until we were on firm ground again, I had to hope this aerovator wouldn’t spring a leak. We descended so fast my ears popped. Kalaloo then eased up on the throttle and we began to slow. A moment later we gently touched down.
