kids who were hungry for adventure.
“When do we leave?” I asked.
This is where I’m going to end this journal and send it to you, Courtney. Like I said, I’m about to become an outlaw. I’ve decided to put in with Siry and the Jakills and help them hijack one of the sailing ships. The flumes have always put us where we needed to be, when we needed to be there. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I’ve landed on Ibara when the next Traveler is about to make such a bold move. Something is about to happen on this island. Change is coming. The Jakills are at the leading edge. Their disenchantment with the status quo feels like a revolution. Things are definitely coming to a head. By all accounts the strange Flighters have become more aggressive. Just as strange is the mystery fleet of sailing ships that the tribunal constructed. What are they for? Why are they being so secretive about them?
Strangest of all, I need to know what lies beyond the shores of this island. In some ways I feel as if I haven’t even discovered Ibara yet. I’ve only experienced this one small, secluded island. Is the rest of Ibara like this? Who are the Flighters, and why are they harassing the people of Rayne?
And of course, where is Saint Dane and how is he involved? Each time I meet a new person, my first thought is that he might be Saint Dane. It’s tough to live in that constant state of paranoia. I’ve got to go with my gut, and my gut tells me that to unravel the mystery of Ibara, I’ve got to become a Jakill.
No, I’ve got to become a pirate.
END OF JOURNAL #29
FIRST EARTH
Courtney read Bobby’s journal, by herself, in Gunny’s lonely basement apartment in the Manhattan Tower Hotel. The pages were almond colored and perfectly square. Each measured about twelve inches across. Bobby had written them in black ink and placed them in a flat, watertight pouch that he rolled up and tied with a band. As the story on Ibara unfolded on the pages before her, Courtney realized again how much she missed Mark. Learning of Bobby’s problems alone was a lonely, torturous experience. She needed Mark. She needed a friend. She wanted to trust Dodger. But after what happened with Whitney Wilcox on Second Earth, she wasn’t going to put her faith in a stranger too quickly. So after the bellhop witnessed Bobby’s journal arrive in the garden outside the hotel, Courtney panicked. She swooped it up and hurried into the hotel to get away.
“Hey!” the bellhop yelled, chasing after her. “Where you going?”
“Leave me alone!” Courtney shouted without breaking stride. “That thing showed up out of nowhere!” he exclaimed, stunned. “How did you do that?”
“Magic. I’m a magician. Pretty good, huh? Show’s over. Go away.”
She hurried up the steps of the hotel. Dodger was right after her.
“You ain’t no magician,” he said. “There’s something else going on here. You’re not some kind of spaceman, are you? Or spacegirl?”
Courtney stopped again. “You’re kidding, right? You won’t believe it was phony magic, but you’d buy that I’m from Pluto?”
“I’m not buyin’ nothing. I just want to know what’s going on.”
Dodger seemed to Courtney like an okay guy. Bobby trusted him. Gunny trusted him. In the past that would have been enough for Courtney. Not anymore.
“You’re right,” she exclaimed. “You got me. I’m from outer space. Keep it to yourself or I’ll vaporize you.”
She tried to walk off again, but Dodger took her shoulder. Courtney pulled away angrily.
“Look,” he said, backing off, “Gunny asked me to help anybody who showed up with one of them rings. How can I do that if you don’t level with me?”
Courtney wanted to trust the little guy. Badly. “I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “It’s not your fault.”
She left him standing on the steps of the hotel, dazed. She hurried to Gunny’s apartment and spent the next hour pouring over every word of Bobby’s journal. Reading about Bobby’s adventures wasn’t new to Courtney, but this time felt different. Aside from her trip to Black Water, Courtney always felt as if she were nothing more than an observer. The events Bobby wrote about didn’t affect her directly.
Those days were over.
The territories were folding in on themselves. Dados had turned up on Quillan and the three Earth territories. They turned up in her home in the form of a mechanical cat. Courtney knew the events Bobby described weren’t about Ibara alone. The puzzle was getting more complicated. The battle with Saint Dane was suddenly less about the struggle for individual territories. It was now about Halla.
Sitting in that lonely apartment, Courtney knew that finding Mark wasn’t just about saving her friend. It could affect events on all the Earth territories. It could affect Bobby on Ibara. It could affect every being in Halla. Saint Dane was making his final push to bring the territories down. The realization staggered her. She was worried about Bobby and what he’d found on Ibara, but she also knew there was nothing she could do about that. She had to stay focused on her mission on First Earth.
She had to find Mark.
The telephone rang. Courtney jumped. The bell was loud and jangling, not like the soft tone of her kitchen phone on Second Earth. Gunny’s phone sounded like a fire alarm. She calmed herself and picked up the heavy, black receiver. “Hello?” she said tentatively.
“Don’t hang up,” Dodger begged.
Courtney didn’t, but she didn’t speak, either. She didn’t know what to say.
“I think I got it figured,” Dodger said. “Are you and Pendragon on the lam from the law?”
Courtney burst out laughing. “On the lam?” she echoed. “What are you, some kind of mob guy?”
“No!” Dodger said quickly. “I got nothin’ to do with them guys! Honest!”
Courtney forced herself to refocus. She knew she couldn’t look at this world from a Second Earth perspective. This was 1937. It was a different territory with different rules.
“Look, Dodger, I understand that what you just saw freaked you out.”
“It did what?” he asked quickly.
“What I mean is, you saw something… unusual, and it’s making you… nervous.”
“You can say that again, sister,” Dodger agreed.
“And stop calling me ‘sister.’ Or ‘skirt’ or ‘dame’ or ‘broad’ or whatever clever macho demeaning term you can think of.”
“Sorry.”
“Look, I wish I could trust you. I can’t. I’ve been burned before. I mean, I’ve been fooled before.”
“Oh, I get it,” Dodger said knowingly. “You’ve been dumped by some chump boyfriend?”
“Yeah,” Courtney said. “You could say that.” Courtney laughed to herself, thinking that Dodger didn’t realize how close to the truth that was.
“Then there’s no problem!” Dodger continued. “I don’t want to be your boyfriend. I got no time for skirts, uh, girls. Sorry, that slipped out.”
Courtney was weakening. Dodger was getting to her, but she knew that was exactly the kind of thing Saint Dane would do. He was offering to give her what she needed most, friendship and help.
“Thanks, Dodger,” she said curtly. “But no thanks. Maybe someday I’ll get the chance to explain it to you, but not today.”
Courtney hung up. She barely had time to gather the journal pages and put them back into the waterproof pouch, when a knock came at the door. She looked around for a place to hide the journals and chose Gunny’s favorite hiding place… the oven.
“Who is it?” she called while quickly closing the oven door.
“Room service,” came a professional man’s voice.
“I didn’t order room service,” she called back.
Another knock. Courtney started to panic. There was no way out of this room. She ran to the door and put her eye to the peephole to see…
