Rokador, anyway. She stepped down onto the stone floor, and looked to her right. What happened then was something that I never thought possible. On an adventure full of surprises, this one ranked right up there near the top.
Loor froze…and dropped her stave.
Uh-oh. Whatever she was looking at had shocked her so badly that she dropped her weapon. Let me write that again. Loor was so shocked, she dropped her weapon. Loor. I don’t have to tell you how wrong that was. I hesitated a second. If something out there was so incredible that it could make Loor drop her weapon in shock, I wasn’t so sure I wanted to see it. Of course, I had to. I grasped my stave tighter, in case I had the same reaction. Slowly I continued down. To be honest, I kind of squinted. I could still see, but somehow squinting made it easier to take, like I was in control. I used to do that in horror movies. I wouldn’t fully close my eyes, I’d just squint. That way, if something icky jumped out, I could close them quick.
But no amount of squinting helped prepare me for what I saw when I hit the bottom of the stairs and turned to my right. I discovered what was making the moaning sound. It was wind. The mystery was solved, though a much bigger mystery had taken its place. What we saw was impossible, yet real-as real as the desert sand on the surface, miles above. Stretched out before us, as far as could be seen, was an ocean. An honest-to-god, underground ocean. The moaning wind slashed across the surface, kicking up whitecaps. I could feel moist air hitting me in the face. The sight was so impossible and so wrong, I’m surprised I didn’t drop my weapon too.
I walked to Loor, and without taking my eyes off the water, I said, “Now there’s something you don’t see every day.”
Loor couldn’t speak. It was like her brain wouldn’t accept it. But it was no illusion. A forty-yard-span of stone floor stretched between us and the water. I left the cavern at the base of the stairs, passed under an archway, and walked across the deck to the edge of the water. There was something I had to know. I got down on my belly, and scooped up a handful of water. Touching it to my lips, I instantly realized that somebody somewhere had some serious questions to answer. This was freshwater. It was drinkable. I had no idea how deep it was, but the surface was vast. I had no doubt that there was enough water here to feed the rivers of Zadaa and end the drought.
Loor walked up behind me. “Someone will pay for this,” she said while staring out over the water. “My people are starving and there is enough water here to…” She didn’t finish the sentence, that’s how ticked she was. She gazed from right to left and said, “There.” She was pointing to the right of us, where I saw that tied to the stone deck, bobbing in the water, was a small boat.
“Bokka said a vehicle was waiting to take us to the center,” I said. “Do you think-“
Loor’s answer was to walk quickly toward the boat. I followed. Without another word we boarded. It was about the size of a rowboat and made out of the same silver steel as the dygo. There was nothing sleek or modern about it, though. It looked to have been hammered out of sheet metal into a shape that was kind of like a Boston whaler with two bows. One end had a tiller, which made it the stern. Loor went right to work. There was a small control panel in the stern that reminded me of the instrument panel in the dygo. Loor toggled a switch, and I heard an engine start up with a low growl.
“Can you handle this thing?” I asked.
With one quick move she tossed the line back on the deck and gunned the engine. That meant yes. I sat down in the bow quickly, and not a second too soon. If I had been standing, I would have toppled. Loor kicked the throttle open and in no time we were bouncing across the waves. This wasn’t a pleasant skimmer ride, like on Cloral. This was more like being in a small boat on the choppy Long Island Sound at home. It was dark, too. Once we got away from Kidik, there were no lights to guide our way. Of course, there was no moon or stars above either. Only the rock ceiling. I glanced back to Kidik and saw a giant wall of stone. At the base was the opening that led to the cavern at the bottom of the stairs we had just come through. The platform and cavern were lit up, but this light wasn’t anywhere near powerful enough to help us see farther out over the dark ocean. I tried to memorize where this opening was, since we would have to come back this way. At least I hoped we’d be coming back.
Loor was focused. Her jaw set. She had been hit with a lot over the past few hours. I had no idea how close to the edge she was. I figured the best thing to do was try and diffuse her anger.
“Yeah, it sucks,” I said. “Bokka is dead, and it looks like the Rokador have been hoarding water from the Batu. But we gotta stay focused. There’s more to come, I guarantee it. I need to know you’re with me.”
That was pretty harsh. Basically I’d just told Loor I was worried that she’d let her emotions take over to the point where she’d do something dumb. Spader had done that, more than once, and it cost us. I couldn’t allow Loor to do the same thing.
“This has become personal, Pendragon,” Loor said. “My best friend is dead, and my people are starving. If this is the work of Saint Dane, he will suffer for it.”
I felt the anger in her voice. We had reached a crossroads. I couldn’t blow this. It was my job.
“You’re not the only one who’s lost friends and family,” I said just as firmly. “Yours isn’t the only territory in trouble. We’ve come too far to let Saint Dane goad us into doing something stupid. We’ve all made mistakes. Big ones, and we’ve paid for them. I will not let you do it too. Not here. Take a breath and get your head back in the game!”
My eyes stayed locked on hers. I wasn’t about to blink. Loor was supremely confident in everything she did. That was her. But she wasn’t stupid. She gave me a slight nod. My words had struck home. I could feel the tension melt. “Do not worry, Pendragon. I have not lost sight.” Her voice was softer. I still felt the intensity, but she was now in control. She was with me.
“Good,” I said. “Now, where the heck are we going?”
Loor pointed ahead. I turned around and saw a single light glowing in the distance.
“That’s as good a choice as any,” I said.
Loor kept us headed for the light. I’d say we traveled for about half an hour. That’s how big this underwater ocean was. As we got closer, we could see that it wasn’t a single light at all-it was several. They were torches. Six of them. The flickering light illuminated enough of the surroundings that I could see we were approaching a shore. As we drew even closer, I saw that one torch wasn’t lit.
“Six flaming torches surrounding one dark torch,” I said. “I wonder if that’s some kind of symbol?”
“The dark one is not a torch,” Loor observed.
I squinted to try and see better, and sure enough, standing at the center of the ring of torches was a person. It was kind of creepy. The guy stood there, alone, stock-still, with the torches burning around him. Was it some kind of Rokador ceremony? He didn’t seem to be dressed in the classic white robes of a Rokador. He was wearing all black.
“Should I land the boat near him?” Loor asked.
“I guess,” I said. “I don’t think it would be a trap because nobody knows we’re-uh-oh.”
My mouth went dry.
“What?” Loor asked.
I wanted to be sure I was right, so I didn’t answer right away. As we drew closer and I saw the truth, I still couldn’t answer because my brain wouldn’t kick my tongue into gear.
“Pendragon?” Loor asked. “Could it be?”
I didn’t have to answer. Loor knew. Standing in the sand, surrounded by torches, was a tall man wearing a dark suit. He was completely bald. We were still too far away to see the angry red veins that slashed across his head from front to back, like bloody lightning bolts. But even from this distance, I could see his eyes. His blue-white eyes. They caught the light from the flames, dancing like he was possessed by some evil, inner glow. Because he was. As we drew closer to shore, he actually smiled and lifted his hand to give us a slight wave.
We were being welcomed… by Saint Dane.
JOURNAL#22
(CONTINUED)
ZADAA
