expand. It quickly grew to the size of a Frisbee, with flashing light spewing from the center and the familiar jumble of musical notes that Mark knew meant he was about to receive a delivery from another territory.
He had long ago gotten over the rush of seeing this, too.
It took only a few moments for the event to be over. The lights disappeared, the music ended, and the ring returned to normal. Sitting on the rug next to it was a journal. Like the journal before it, the rolled-up pages were bright yellow and tied with a purple ribbon. Mark stared at it on the floor. He may have gotten used to the ring opening up a pathway to the territories and depositing Bobby’s journals, but there was no way to be prepared for the news a journal would bring.
“Mail’s in,” Courtney said. She had made it to her room and poked her head inside the door. “Just like old times.”
Mark picked up the yellow pages. “Looks like it’s from Quillan,” he announced.
“The circus clown territory,” Courtney added. “I have no idea what’s up with that twisted place.”
“I think we’re about to find out,” Mark said. “Should we read it here? Now?”
Courtney entered the room, closed the door behind her, limped over to Mark, and grabbed the roll of pages. “I’ve been out of the loop for too long,” she said while pulling off the ribbon and unrolling the pages. “No way I’m going to wait.”
Mark smiled. They were together again. They had always read Bobby’s journals out loud to each other, except for when Courtney was hurting so bad. This felt good, for all sorts of reasons.
“You want me to start?” Courtney asked.
“Absolutely,” Mark said with a smile as he sat down on the bed.
Courtney hobbled over to the cushy easy chair that her father had moved up to her room, and settled in. She looked at the pages, ready to read.
“Courtney?” Mark said.
“Yeah?”
“Welcome back.”
Courtney smiled and began to read, “‘Journal number twenty-four. Quillan. I like to play games. Always have-’”
(CONTINUED)
“Dinner’s ready!” called Mrs. Chetwynde from downstairs.
Courtney had already finished reading Bobby’s journal aloud. She and Mark were busy sitting there, not moving, staring at each other, trying to digest the news from Bobby’s latest entry. Courtney broke the silence first. “He sounds bad,” she said.
“Can you blame him?” Mark asked. “He’s only got the biggest responsibility in the history of all time on his shoulders.”
“I wish there was something we could do to let him know he’s not alone,” Courtney lamented.
“But he is alone,” Mark said soberly.
Courtney looked out the window. She wanted to cry. Bobby was doing an incredible job battling Saint Dane. It hurt to hear that in spite of all his success, he was feeling so sad and lonely. It wasn’t fair. It almost made her wish that when Bobby and Loor were together, that Loor had kissed him.
Almost.
Mark added, “And now he’s even more alone, because the Traveler from Quillan is dead.”
“It’s a weird feeling,” Courtney added glumly. “It’s like hearing a relative died that you never met.”
“Really,” Mark said soberly. “I–I can’t believe another Traveler is gone.”
“And Bobby’s just getting started on Quillan!” Courtney shouted out. “He’s being set up for something, I know it.”
“I think so too,” Mark said. He jumped up and started pacing nervously. “Why else would Saint Dane have sent him that invitation? And what about the loop and the challenger clothes at the flume? Saint Dane must have put them there.”
“Really,” Courtney said. “And those two weird people, Veego and LaBerge. They had something to do with putting on that fight. Bobby’s being lured into that Toto competition.”
“Tato,” Mark corrected.
“Whatever,” Courtney snapped. “Bobby walked into a trap.”
“What else can he do?” Mark argued. “If he wants to find out what’s happening on Quillan, he’s got to be right where he is. Where Saint Dane asked him to be.”
Courtney took a deep breath. She knew Mark was right. But it didn’t make her any less anxious about it. “I guess,” she said, pouting. “I hate getting the story in short doses, and I hate even worse not being able to help him.”
“Yeah, well, that’s the deal,” Mark said.
Courtney tapped her foot on the floor. Her good foot. She was full of nervous energy. “There’s something I don’t understand,” she finally said. “Why doesn’t Saint Dane just kill him?”
“What?” Mark shouted in surprise.
“Don’t get all squishy,” Courtney countered. “It’s a legitimate question. With all of Saint Dane’s powers, you’d think he’d just swat Bobby down and be done with him. The same with the other Travelers. He’s had plenty of chances. I mean, if he spent all that time trying to get rid of me, you’d think he’d at least give it a shot.”
Mark stopped pacing and sat back in the chair. “I have to admit, I’ve wondered that myself.”
Courtney said, “You think maybe it’s because they can’t be killed? Like with Loor.”
“But they can be killed!” Mark shot back. “There’s a whole roster of dead Travelers as proof, and it’s getting longer.”
“Then what about Loor?” Courtney asked. “She was dead and then she wasn’t.”
“I don’t know,” Mark said, shaking his head. “Maybe it’s like Bobby said. It might have something to do with the power they have when they’re together. Bobby was there for Loor, and she survived. The Traveler from Quillan was alone, and now he’s gone.”
“So… could that be it?” Courtney asked nervously. “Is it finally happening? Is Saint Dane luring the Travelers to Quillan, separately, to kill them off one by one?”
The two shared a nervous look. The thought of a systematic Traveler execution was a grim one.
“Is this the Travelers’ last stand?” Courtney asked, surprised by her own conclusion.
Mark jumped up and paced again. “No!” He shouted. “N-No way. It can’t be that simple.” He was forming the ideas as he spoke. “I’ve studied every word of Bobby’s journals. I know everything that’s happened to him since he left home, and I see a pattern.”
“Which is…?”
“Saint Dane likes to play,” Mark answered. “He lures Bobby to a territory and gives him just enough information to get him thinking.”
“But the clues usually send him in the wrong direction,” Courtney pointed out.
“I think that’s part of it,” Mark said. “Saint Dane challenges Bobby. He forces him to make tough choices. Bobby never has a clear path.”
“So what’s the point?” Courtney asked impatiently. “Why does Saint Dane give Bobby any shot at all?”
Mark answered, “Because I think for Saint Dane, it’s more than just trying to tip a territory toward chaos. I think he wants to beat Bobby. No, I think he needs to beat Bobby. If he didn’t, why would he bother dealing with Bobby at all?”
“Because Bobby forces him to deal,” Courtney said. “He’s all over Saint Dane.”
“Yeah, Bobby and the Travelers keep messing up his plans, but Saint Dane keeps giving him opportunities. I don’t think anything that happens is by coincidence. I think Saint Dane has orchestrated everything, and part of it is to go head-to-head with Bobby whenever he can.”
“Even when he lost his cool and beat Bobby up on Zadaa?” Courtney asked. “And tried to kill Loor?”
“Especially then,” Mark answered. “Did he really lose his cool? Or was it just one more strand in the web he’s weaving to mess with Bobby and keep him off balance?”
“You’re making my head hurt,” Courtney said. “And thanks for nothing because it’s the only body part I’ve got left that doesn’t ache.”
“Sorry,” Mark said.
