one?” I asked. “Because I don’t wager,” she answered. “And I’m not a challenger.”
I heard the sound of dado voices outside. More were arriving.
“I have to go,” Nevva said. “Don’t lose that; it might save your life.”
She didn’t have to tell me that twice. Nevva moved to leave, but I grabbed her arm.
“You can’t leave!” I said. “I have to know what’s going on! A Traveler is dead!”
“You will,” she said. “It would take too long to explain now, and if I’m caught, two more might join him.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
“All right,” I said with resignation. “Let’s hope I don’t get killed before then.”
“You won’t be,” she said. “Just do as they say and you will be fine.”
Nevva started away again, and I said, “Wait, you gotta tell me one thing. Have you found Saint Dane? Why did he leave these challenger clothes at the flume?”
“He didn’t,” Nevva said. “I did.”
With that, she was gone.
(CONTINUED)
QUILLAN
I know I’ve said this before, but I’ve never felt so alone. Another Traveler had died and I never even got the chance to meet him. Whatever the territory of Ibara was, it no longer had a Traveler. Unless, of course, there was somebody who was going to take Remudi’s place, but I had no way of knowing that. I couldn’t stress about it, because I had my hands full here on Quillan, and the one person who could help me make sense of it all, Nevva Winter, was beyond my reach because I was trapped inside that twisted castle and forced to play idiotic, deadly games.
Worse, it was Nevva who set me up to play these games in the first place by leaving challenger clothes for me at the flume! Why did she do that? I had assumed it was Saint Dane’s doing because seeing me getting beat up was just the kind of thing he liked doing. But another Traveler? She was supposed to be on my side! Why did she put me in this spot? Could the answer be that she was an idiot? No, that didn’t fly. If there was one thing I could tell about Nevva Winter, she was smart. And efficient. She wouldn’t have made a dumb mistake like that. There was more to it than that. Nevva promised that my questions would be answered the next day. There was only one problem with that.
She didn’t come back the next day. Or the day after that. I kept waiting for her to show up and get me the heck out of there, but she didn’t. What was she doing? What had happened? It was making me nuts. I was still as much in the dark about how Quillan worked as when I arrived, and the one person who could help me understand, the Traveler from this territory, had abandoned me.
At least I can say that while I was stuck there, I was comfortable. Veego and LaBerge weren’t kidding. I was treated like royalty. The food was great; my new room was big, comfy, and clown free; I had the run of the castle and even had a servant. Fourteen. He was always there to get me anything I wanted. Short of freedom, that is. Doesn’t sound too horrible, does it?
Well, it was. I felt as though at any moment I’d get thrown into another one of their wicked games. Like with that Hook game, I feared that whenever I turned a corner or walked by a closed door, I’d be rudely sucked in and my life would be on the line. It’s not a good way to live. The challenger party I saw was making all sorts of sense to me. They were blowing off steam and believe me, no matter how sweet the place was, steam built up. It was like being on death row, not knowing when the executioner would come knocking at your door.
I guess it shouldn’t have felt all that odd to me. In many ways it was exactly how I’d been living my life for nearly three years. Ever since I left home with Uncle Press, I’ve had to live with the fact that any moment might be my last. Usually there’s so much going on that I don’t think about it, which is a good thing. I’d have gone out of my mind long ago.
But hanging around that castle, bored, wondering where Nevva was, and waiting for something to happen- man, it was slowly driving me insane. Bored and scared aren’t a good combination. When you’re bored, your mind wanders. I ended up worrying about things that I normally try not to stress about. I guess on the top of the list was the constant question of how I ended up here. I’m not talking about Quillan. I mean the whole Traveler gig in general. Why me? How come I was the lucky one who got to be the lead Traveler and match wits with Saint Dane? I’m not proud to admit this, but lately when my mind goes there, I get angry. Where before I’d been confused, frustrated, and scared, I now had to add anger to that list. I’m not even sure who to be angry at, which makes me even angrier! Who put me in this spot? Uncle Press? He definitely started me on the journey, but was it his choice to make me the lead Traveler? Or was he just following orders? That’s the big question. Who started this whole thing? Gunny’s theory is that there’s some big cheese out there who selected the Travelers and is running the show. I guess that’s possible, but I have no idea who it might be or how it could work.
I’ve wondered about all this for a long time, of course, but like I said, lately the thought has been making me mad. Sure, I know that stopping Saint Dane is huge. There’s no question. But who the hell is he? How did he get those powers? Where is he from? Since it’s my job to stop him, I think I deserve some answers. Right? Am I being unreasonable? I put my life in danger every day, but nobody has explained any of these things to me. I think that’s just wrong, and it’s starting to piss me off.
What if I decided to give up? I could do it, you know. I could jump into the flume, head home to Second Earth, and never look back. I could start a new life. I’ve learned enough about getting along to do that. What would happen if I did? If I’m really as important as everybody seems to think, then maybe I’d force somebody’s hand so they’d have to step up and give me some answers. I’ve thought a lot about doing that. I’m beginning to think that maybe it’s time to start playing a little hardball and force the issue.
Those are the kinds of thoughts that bounced around in my head while I was hanging out in that castle waiting for… something. The more I thought about them, the more worked up I would get, and I’d have to calm myself down and focus on reality. As much as I’d like to, I can’t go home. Saint Dane cannot be left to do whatever he wants, no matter how unfair it is to me or how angry I get. The only thing I can do is not let it get to me. Being angry doesn’t help. It only makes me feel bad. I have to put those feelings aside, now and forever. That was the way it was meant to be, whether I like it or not.
Thanks for letting me vent, by the way.
To keep my mind off things while I waited for Nevva to come back, I spent a lot of time working out. That’s a great way to burn off energy… and anger. I’d go for runs through the dense forest around the castle. A few times I got as far as the high wall that surrounded the place. But whenever I got too close, a couple of those goon dados would appear from out of nowhere and stare at me as if to say, “Don’t even think about it, red boy.”
The castle had a pretty cool gym, too. I worked out with free-weights and did stretching and even worked out on a couple of odd machines where the base moved and rubber arms swung at you. It was a device to help build agility and reflexes. It was fun, once I got the hang of it and stopped getting thwacked in the head, that is. I was in pretty good shape too, I’m proud to say. The training that Loor and Alder gave me on Zadaa had stuck. No, better, I built on it. I don’t mean to sound cocky, but I was getting pretty confident in my abilities as a warrior. That sounds so weird to say. Warrior. I’m still Bobby, and if I had the choice, I’d never raise a weapon again. But I know as long as I am a Traveler, I have to. Given that, I was pretty confident that I could handle myself in most any situation. Though it was kind of chilling to realize the reason they had all this gym stuff was to keep the challengers in peak physical condition, so they could put on a good show while trying to kill one another. That kind of took the edge off the “fun” part.
I tried to meet the other challengers, but that wasn’t easy. They mostly kept to themselves. I’d pass one in the corridor of the castle and try to start a conversation, but they would just nod and keep moving. I guess you’d call it a polite blow off. I asked Fourteen about it. He came for a run with me one day, and I took the opportunity to pump him for some information.
“I don’t get the other challengers,” I said.
“What do you mean?” Fourteen said. It bugged me that he wasn’t short of breath, even after running for a couple of miles. I was pushing it, getting my heart rate up and building a sweat. Fourteen cruised along calmly like
