weapons.”
Alder nodded. Siry shrugged. I went first. I grabbed a heavy crate and backed into the flume. “Ibara!” I called, and was on my way.
The tricky part came on the other side. The crate floated, but it was difficult pushing it up and out of the break in the stone circle I’d made with the dygo. The crate was heavy, and it was hard getting enough leverage to lift it out while treading water. But I did it, and placed it a safe distance from the flume.
The others arrived shortly after. I helped them take their crates out of the water and placed them near the first. After that the three of us dove into the water with a shout of “Denduron!” and started back the other way.
It was a tiring, grueling, boring process. None of us let down our guard though. There was always the possibility of a slip and a drop and a boom. It took us a couple of hours, but all went well. When we were done, thirty crates of tak were stacked up on the territory of Ibara.
Alder, Siry, and I sat on the edge of the flume to get a much-needed rest. It wouldn’t last. It couldn’t last.
“We’re back on the clock,” I announced.
“What does that mean?” Siry asked.
“It means we’re on Ibara time again. There’s an invasion coming, remember?”
I’ll end this journal here, Courtney. I’m getting too antsy to write any more. I’ll tell you about our preparations in my next journal. Assuming there is a next journal. Alder is here with us, and I’m glad. He’s already proved to be an incredible help, and knowing he’ll be by my side during the battle gives me confidence that we actually have a chance. How good a chance? I don’t know. At least I can say that we’ve done all that we can.
I’m scared and I’m excited. Now that we can look back on all that’s happened, it’s pretty clear that Saint Dane’s plan has been leading to this all along. He thinks Ibara is going to be the first domino to fall in the toppling of Halla. I say he’s got a very big surprise coming. I wish I could see his face when we blow his army to oblivion. Even if we lose, I’m going to make sure we take as many of those dados with us as possible. I’m playing by his rules now. He’s
455 461 mixed the territories to try and crush Halla. I’ve mixed the territories to try and stop him.
Only one of us will prove to be right.
And so we go.
END OF JOURNAL # 31
Courtney crumpled the pages of Bobby’s journal and tossed them against the wall. She was frightened and angry. Angry at herself. She had let Bobby down. Because of her failure, the final boundaries between territories were about to come crashing down… on Bobby’s head.
Making it all the more dire was the fact that the more she learned about the situation with Mark, the less she understood. How could his parents be alive? She left Second Earth after history was altered. She knew how the changes that Mark made on First Earth would affect Second Earth. They did not include his parents being saved from dying in that plane crash.
Yet, they were alive and well.
Courtney thought that maybe one of the Dimonds might have been Saint Dane in disguise. Then who was the other person? Saint Dane could do a lot of things. He couldn’t split himself in two. Since Nevva Winter was with Mark’s parents, Courtney figured that unless another Traveler with shape-shifting abilities had suddenly entered the story, those people really were Mr. and Mrs. Dimond. She hated herself for being upset that Mark’s parents were alive, but it made no sense to her.
Worse.
Courtney knew that Bobby and the Travelers often had to make horrible choices for the greater good. She couldn’t think of a single time when any of them had to make a choice as difficult as the one Mark had faced. He had to decide whether or not the people he loved the most should live or die. He chose to save them, and Nevva Winter delivered on her promise. By going to First Earth, Mark saved his parents. Courtney didn’t think there was any way to convince Mark that he had been tricked. He would introduce Forge to First Earth, starting a chain reaction that would lead to the creation of the dados, the fall of Ibara… and his own murder.
Courtney decided she didn’t like ocean voyages.
There was a knock on the door, followed quickly by the screech of the lock opening. Sixth Officer Hantin poked his head in.
“Time for a little supper, miss,” he said warmly.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Now, now,” the ship’s officer cajoled. “Don’t want you to become a patient in this hospital ward, do we?”
He was followed quickly by a steward wearing a white coat, pushing a rolling table that was draped with a white tablecloth. Silver domes covered plates of food that Courtney had no intention of eating. She rolled over in her bunk.
The steward cleared his throat and said, “Come now, miss. Me thinks you’re gonna be liking this, I do!”
Courtney had heard that strange accent before. She looked up in time to see the steward stand straight up, wink at her, then spin and swing a punch at Sixth Officer Hantin. He landed a haymaker that was so unexpected, it sent Hantin sprawling back against the bulkhead. Hantin tried to push off, but the steward nailed him with another punch that straightened him up. He hung there for a second, then crashed down onto the rolling table, unconscious, sending food and plates flying everywhere.
“Now I know I’m going to be sacked from the hotel,” Dodger said as he shook his aching hand.
Courtney stared at the little guy with her mouth open in shock.
“Don’t look so surprised,” he said, insulted. “I was a Golden Gloves champ three years running.”
Courtney jumped off the bunk and threw her arms around him. “I can’t believe you found me!”
“I told you, this is nothing more than a floating hotel.” He pushed away from Courtney and went to work. First he cleaned up the overturned cart. “Word of a stowaway travels fast. I know how to listen. Alls I did was pinch this outfit from the linens, grab a tray like I owned the place, and brought it right here. Easy-peasy.”
“Yeah, right. You are awesome.”
“Agreed. Now, we’ve got to be crafty. Once they figure out you’re gone they’ll be looking for a scruffy tomboy, not a beautiful young society lady.”
“Know any?”
Dodger reached under the cart and pulled out a sparkling white evening gown and matching shoes. “I do now,” he said with a smile.
Courtney’s eyes lit up as she grabbed the dress. “Where did you get this?”
“Went shopping on Regent Street,” Dodger answered casually. “You stole it.”
“Nah.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “This was charged to a Mr. and Mrs. Anthony Galvao, suite twelve-twelve, cabin class. They won’t see their bill until we dock. That should be interesting.”
Courtney laughed, jumped behind the bunks, and started pulling off her clothes. As she changed, Dodger went through Hantin’s pockets. He pulled out keys, a pair of handcuffs, and finally his pistol. He dragged Hantin to one of the bunks and hoisted him in. He handcuffed him to the rail, and pulled the blanket up to cover his face.
“Anybody peeks in, this is you, sleeping like a baby.”
“What happens when he wakes up?”
“He could scream his head off and nobody’ll hear. We’re fine until somebody comes to relieve him.”
Courtney stepped from behind the bunk. The dress fit perfectly. It was slim and silky, with short sleeves that showed off her muscular arms. Dodger whistled.
“Wowee. I knew there was a girl hiding in there somewhere.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Courtney said with a scowl, though she liked the compliment. “What about you? I don’t think the stewards hang out with the passengers.”
“Right you are,” Dodger exclaimed.
He unbuttoned his white steward jacket and pulled it off to reveal he was wearing a tuxedo. It was perfect, right down to the shiny black shoes and slick tie. Dodger brushed his hair back and held his hands out for Courtney to appreciate him. “Not too shabby, huh?”
