Computer magic. None of the people in that arena thought it was a trick.
Neither did Mark and Courtney. They knew it was real. The people in the arena had to take it on faith that what they were seeing wasn’t a clever illusion. Mark and Courtney didn’t have to be convinced, because they had seen it all before. As if being projected from an impossible machine, giant three-dimensional images floated through the darkened space of Madison Square Garden.
The images of Halla.
Floating before them was the same jumble of images that had become so familiar to those who used the flumes. The people in the arena witnessed the floating barges of Magorran and Grallion. Zenzen horses sprinted in space, flying past an army of green-uniformed marching dados. The beautiful city built in the trees, known as “Leeandra,” was seen, complete with klee cats scooting across sky bridges. They saw the elaborate stone pyramids of the city of Xhaxhu on Zadaa, around which flew several green and yellow flying machines known as “gigs” from the territory of Eelong. A quig-bear from Denduron reared up against an army of Bedoowan knights, beyond which lay the shining city of Faar, newly risen from the ocean floor of Cloral. The Hindenburg sailed past, blotting out in turn each of the three suns of Denduron.
“Ravinia is the power of Halla,” Naymeer’s voice bellowed. “We are the power of Ravinia. We are the strong. We are the perfect. Those who are not equal to the task will be cast aside. The Convergence will soon be upon us. We must be ready.”
Everyone in the arena watched in awe, including Mark and Courtney. As the images danced in the darkness, the crowd was hushed. Slowly, they began to clap and cheer. It started softly, then grew until each and every person was cheering for the swirling images of Halla.
“Th-There’s only one explanation,” Mark stuttered. “He must be Saint Dane. Naymeer must be Saint Dane.”
“Really? Is that the only explanation?” came a voice from behind them.
Mark and Courtney spun around to see a man standing in the glass doorway that led back into the luxury suite. He stood well over six feet tall and wore a dark suit. His blue-white eyes blazed at them.
“There may be another,” Saint Dane said with a smile. Mark and Courtney could only stare.
Saint Dane pointed back to the arena. “You’re missing quite a show,” he cautioned with a slight snicker.
Naymeer’s voice continued, “The Convergence will join together all that is good and perfect in Halla. You will be the leaders. You will control the next step of evolution. You will crush the weak and allow the glory to encompass us all. We will be one with the brothers of all worlds. Those who do not believe will be left behind. Embrace Ravinia, and Halla will be ours.”
“Who is that?” Courtney demanded.
“You heard him,” Saint Dane answered. “He’s the future. He’s the past. Very dramatic, don’t you think?”
“But who is he?” Mark shouted.
“Isn’t that obvious?” Saint Dane answered. “He’s the Traveler from Second Earth.”
SECOND EARTH
(CONTINUED)
“Bobby Pendragon is the Travelerfrom Second Earth,” Mark said with no emotion.
“He was.” Saint Dane sighed. “I’m afraid he decided the task was no longer to his taste. But I’m sure you knew that.”
Saint Dane turned and walked into the luxury suite. Mark ran after him. Courtney was right behind.
“How did you get off Ibara?” Mark called after him.
“I’m sure you’ll find that out soon enough,” Saint Dane answered without turning back.
Courtney asked, “Does that mean Bobby can leave too?”
“Pendragon quit,” Saint Dane spat at them. “Why do you think the Convergence has begun? He lost because he didn’t have enough faith in himself, or his convictions, to continue. He was flawed, which came as no surprise to me.”
“‘Flawed,’” Courtney echoed. “You make it sound like a crime.”
“Indeed,” Saint Dane agreed. “Pendragon was flawed. That is why he quit.”
“He didn’t quit!” Courtney shot back. “He blew up the flume to trap you on Ibara.”
Saint Dane held out his arms and smiled. “And you see how successful he was. Pendragon destroyed the flume on Ibara because he no longer had the will to continue the struggle. Paint that any way you like, but it is the truth. His weakness didn’t close a door, it opened one. For me. It’s a door that cannot be closed.”
“Unless Bobby wants it closed,” Courtney threw back at him.
“Why are you so concerned with Pendragon when such momentous events are happening right before you?” Saint Dane chastised. “Pendragon is history. This is what it’s all been leading to. The Convergence has begun. Accept it.”
“What does that mean?” Courtney yelled desperately. “What is the Convergence?”
“Weren’t you listening? It’s the creation of a new order, just as Naymeer said. My vision for a unified Halla is one breath away. It’s happening on all the territories. Each one is falling into line, just as I said it would.” Saint Dane walked to the kitchen area and looked over the tray of sandwiches on the counter. “This is quite nice,” he commented. “I may have to attend a sporting event here. What exactly is a Knick?”
“Why are we here?” Courtney demanded to know.
Saint Dane turned to them, but as he moved, he transformed into the character of Eugene, the clean-cut guy who escorted them to the suite. Mark and Courtney both jolted with surprise.
“I told you,” Eugene answered brightly. “You’re the special guest of Naymeer. He wanted you here.”
Mark fought to keep his composure and asked, “Why? He doesn’t even know who we are.”
“Naymeer is the Traveler from Second Earth now,” Eugene said with pride. “He needs acolytes. What better choice than you two? After all, you have loads of experience!”
“You can’t be serious,” Courtney spat out. “You expect us to give up on Bobby?”
With a quick move to his right, Eugene transformed into the character of Whitney Wilcox-the soccer-playing preppy from Stansfield Academy. He even had a soccer ball that he bounced off his knee.
“You’re a winner, Courtney,” Whitney said cockily. “The way I see it, you’ve only got one choice. Take it. Be a winner. You too, Mark. You can come along for the ride.” Whitney laughed, bounced the ball off his knee again and kicked it at them. Courtney caught it without flinching.
“Nice!” called Whitney.
“Not gonna happen,” Courtney said flatly.
“N-No, it’s not,” Mark echoed.
Whitney transformed. This time Saint Dane became Andy Mitchell. Mark’s nemesis. Mark’s partner in Forge. Mark’s nightmare. He looked as he did on Second Earth, complete with long, greasy blond hair and a dirty T-shirt. He hawked up a lougie and spit into the sink. Mark and Courtney didn’t blink.
“Guess what, Dimond? This one’s on you too!” Mitchell cackled.
“What does that mean?” Mark asked.
Andy Mitchell strolled over to the glass partition that overlooked the arena. The lights were back on. The Halla portion of the show was over. Naymeer was once again addressing the audience.
“Naymeer’s ring,” Mitchell said. “Look familiar?”
“All the Traveler rings look the same,” Mark answered through clenched teeth.
“I guess,” Mitchell agreed. “But that one. That one’s special.”
“Why?” Mark asked.
Mitchell smiled, showing a mouthful of yellow, nicotine-stained teeth. “Because it’s yours.”
Mark and Courtney stared back at Mitchell for a long, confused moment. It was Mark who first put it together. “Nevva,” he whispered, dazed.
Mitchell continued, “First you created the dados, then you offered up the one thing that kicked off the whole show. I pretty much owe you everything, Dimond. The least I can do is offer you a seat at the table. Chetwynde, too, so long as she keeps her mouth shut. She can be really annoying.”
