“I understand,” Nevva replied with sympathy. “But if you don’t, your grief will only reach new depths.”
Mark got a chill. The woman was heartless.
“Shall we?” Nevva said with a smile as she continued walking.
The last thing Mark wanted to do was follow the woman, but he willed his feet to move. The two strolled through the park, looking every bit like a normal couple enjoying the chilly autumn afternoon. Mark wondered if anybody could tell that every muscle in his body was so tense he felt as if he might snap in two.
“It’s a beautiful park, don’t you think?” Nevva asked.
“Do you really want to talk about the p-park?” Mark shot back. He winced when the stutter came out.
“Nervous?” Nevva asked with a chuckle.
Mark hated it when his stutter betrayed him. He thought he had it beaten, but it still snuck back at the worst possible times.
“No,” Mark said adamantly.
“Really? You should be.”
Mark tried not to react. He wanted to be cool. He wanted to be in control. He wanted to be able to handle anything Nevva had to throw at him. Or at least give that impression. He didn’t think he was doing such a hot job.
“Go home, Mark,” Nevva commanded. “Enjoy your life. You can’t do anything else for Pendragon. He chose to stay on Ibara. He wants nothing more to do with the plight of Halla, and neither should you.”
“That’s it?” Mark asked sarcastically. “That’s all you wanted to say? You want me to go home and pretend none of this ever happened?”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
Nevva smiled, but Mark saw no warmth. He knew she wasn’t concerned about his peace of mind.
“There is one other small thing,” she said slyly. “I figured,” Mark shot back quickly. “I want your ring.”
Without thinking, Mark grabbed his Traveler ring with the opposite hand. He had only parted with the ring once, when he gave it to Courtney to continue on as an acolyte while he traveled with Nevva to First Earth to try to save his parents. Once they were reunited, Courtney had given it back. She knew the ring belonged on Mark’s finger. The idea of giving it up again made Mark wince.
“What? No! Why?” he exclaimed.
“To give Pendragon exactly what he wants.”
Mark stared at her, uncomprehending. “Uh, what?” he muttered.
“Pendragon destroyed the flume on Ibara,”Nevvasaid coldly. “He wanted to be cut off from the rest of Halla. I want to oblige him and make it a full break.”
“What for? Revenge?”
“Call it that if you’d like.”
Mark twisted the ring on his finger. “Forget it!” he snapped. “This is the only link I have with my best friend. Why the heck would I give it up?”
Nevva looked deep into Mark’s eyes, as if trying to read his thoughts. It unnerved him. If he had said anything at that moment, it would surely have come out as a stutter. He knew she had to have an agenda that went beyond trying to isolate Bobby.
“Saint Dane has taught me many things,” Nevva explained. “He’s working on an entirely higher plane than the other Travelers and he’s shared some of his unique abilities with me.”
“Good for you,” Mark said sarcastically. “Why should I care?”
“Because unlike the other Travelers, I know how to control the flumes,”Nevvaanswered quickly. “I can not only travel between territories, I have the ability to control the time when I arrive.”
Mark felt his throat clench. He knew this couldn’t be good.
“So what?” Mark commented coolly.
“I prevented your parents from boarding the airplane that crashed, Mark,” she said coldly. “You know that. What if I told you I could travel back to Second Earth to a time before their plane took off and this time watch silently as they handed over their tickets and boarded?”
Mark felt as if the park were spinning. He had lost his parents once… or thought he had. It was the whole reason he’d agreed to come to First Earth. Nevva told him that by traveling to the past he could change the future and save his parents from dying in that plane crash. But she was lying. Nevva had already saved his parents. That wasn’t why Saint Dane wanted him on First Earth. It was all about getting him to sell Forge to KEM and start the chain of events that would lead to the creation of the dados. It wasn’t about his parents. It had never been about his parents.
Until now.
“Wh-Why?” Marked croaked. He didn’t care anymore that he sounded nervous. “Why would you do that?”
“I don’t want to,” she said, trying to sound sincere. It didn’t work. Nevva Winter was cold, efficient, and calculating. “I like your parents. I don’t want to see them die.”
“Then why?” Mark cried. “I did what you wanted. KEM has Forge. What else do you want from my life?”
Nevva looked at Mark’s ring and coolly answered, “I want your ring.”
Mark quickly put his hand in his pocket. “This can’t just be about Bobby.”
“It isn’t,” Nevva answered. “Call it a test.”
“Test? Of what?”
“Of you. Of people. Of Earth,” Nevva replied. “Saint Dane and I have the same vision. Our goal is to create a perfect Halla.”
“Yeah, by destroying it,” Mark spat.
“No, by breaking it down in order to rebuild,” Nevva said passionately. “Halla must be purged of all impurity before it can thrive. Unfortunately, the Travelers don’t share that vision. That’s what the struggle has been about, Mark. Saint Dane’s vision of a perfect Halla, versus the flawed existence that the Travelers insist on trying to protect.”
“So what is the test?”
“I’m giving you a choice,” Nevva said dispassionately. “Give me the ring and I’ll never bother you again.”
“I don’t believe you,” Mark cried. “If you want the ring so badly, it must be because it will help you in some way. And helping you is helping Saint Dane.”
“That’s where the test comes in. How firm are you in your convictions? How important is it for you to continue helping the Travelers? Helping Pendragon? Which is more important? The futile quest to stop Saint Dane… or your parents? Think, Mark. Think hard and make the right choice, because if you choose the Travelers, I promise you, your parents will die.”
Mark’s knees buckled. They actually buckled. He fell down to the ground and sat on his feet, trying to catch his breath. His head spun. What was this about? Why was his ring so important to Nevva? To Saint Dane? Mark couldn’t breathe. As badly as he felt about being duped into inventing Forge, he’d had no idea that he was doing exactly what Saint Dane wanted. Now he was faced with a much more difficult choice. His parents were in danger again. To save them, he had to agree to help the demon. There would be no excuses this time.
“That’s the test?” Mark asked, numb. “Halla or my parents?”
“Something like that,” Nevva said without compassion.
“Why does it matter? What’s the point of a test like that?”
“It’s everything, Mark. If you choose your parents, you’d be proving once again how selfish and corrupt the people of Halla are.”
“You think it’s selfish to protect people you love?”
“It’s selfish to put your personal concerns ahead of millions, no, billions of others.”
Mark looked up into her steely eyes. He had never felt hatred before. He was a forgiving kind of guy who never held a grudge and always saw the good in people. As much as Andy Mitchell had made his life a living hell, he’d never felt actual hatred for him.
At that moment Mark hated Nevva Winter.
“You’re as bad as Saint Dane,” he seethed.
“Thank you,” Nevva answered with a self-satisfied smile.
