The Rivers of Zadaa (20 page)

The road got even steeper and wound sharply to the left. Courtney didn't remember it being so steep, though the last time she made this trip it was in a car. Roads never seemed as steep in the car as they did when you were riding or running. She rounded the bend and saw that the road continued to bend around the mountain. She couldn't see how much farther it was to the crest, but she knew it must be just around the curve ahead.

That's when she heard the car.

It was faint at first. She was breathing so hard that she couldn't make it out right away. But the sound quickly grew louder. There was no doubt. A car was coming up behind her. Fast. She glanced back, but there was nothing to see except the bend she had just come around. The oncoming car hadn't gotten there yet. In a few seconds it would scream around the corner and be right behind her. The road was pretty narrow, and she thought about getting off and moving to the side for safety. But the idea of having to start up again on this steep hill wasn't a happy one. She did a quick calculation and figured the car would see her in plenty of time to move over. She stood up and pumped harder, hoping to get to the top of the rise before the car.

Behind her, the car rounded the curve. The engine was working so hard it sounded as if it were roaring. A quick, scary thought came to her. Could it be the mysterious black sedan? She hadn't thought about that strange car for days. Her heart raced, faster than it had from the climb. All she wanted to do was get around the next corner and see the top of the rise.

The roar of the car grew louder. She decided to jump off her bike, but a quick look to the side showed her that the shoulder was too narrow. There was a steep drop-off. If she dismounted now, there would be no place to go. If this car wanted to run her down, it had found the perfect place to do it.

Seconds later the car was on her. Courtney closed her eyes, bracing herself to get hit. She gritted her teeth, tightened up, and…the car roared past. It was so close she felt the breeze as it sped by. She opened her eyes and saw that it was a minivan full of little kids being driven by a mom. The woman tried to move over to get clear of Courtney, but there was just so far she could go without going into the oncoming lane, with a blind curve ahead. If the van was in that lane and a car came from the other direction,
boom.

Courtney looked up to see the little kids pressing their faces against the rear window, waving at her. Courtney smiled and waved back. She was exhausted, but relieved. She laughed at herself for being so paranoid. Black sedan, yeah, right. Now all she had to do was get to the top of the rise and the torture would be over. The minivan had disappeared around the corner. Courtney put her head down and stood up on the pedals to dig in for the final push. The roar of the minivan echoed off the side of the mountain.

That's why she didn't hear the car that was coming the other way.

Courtney downshifted, pumped her legs, and looked ahead in time to see the spooky black sedan screaming around the corner, headed directly for her. This driver wasn't worried about being in the wrong lane. The car had crossed the center line and was charging right for Courtney. There was only one thing she could do: bail out. Courtney threw the bike and dove to her right. The black sedan hit the bike's front tire before Courtney was completely clear. She heard the screech of brakes and the shrieking sound of the tires skidding on the road. The driver didn't mind hitting Courtney, but wasn't prepared to crash over the edge while doing it.

The force from the impact twisted Courtney around so quickly and violently that she had no hope of making a controlled fall. The weight from the books on her back made it even worse. They acted like a counterweight, twisting her around with even more force. Before she hit the ground, Courtney had one brief thought: “Why didn't I wear my helmet?”

Her shoulder hit a tree. The force snapped her head back. She fell to the ground and hit hard on her other shoulder. The pitch was so steep that she kept moving, tumbling head over butt over arms over legs. She was an out-of-control rag doll, slamming into trees and boulders on the way down. Finally, with a rude thud, she slammed into one last tree and stopped. A second later, just to add insult to injury, the bike landed on her legs.

Courtney was in shock. She had no idea how badly she was hurt, or if she was bleeding or if she was even going to live. There wasn't any pain. It was like being in a dream, half asleep, but unable to move. She opened her eyes to see she had fallen far from the road. Even if she could move, there was no way she would be able to crawl up the steep hill. Worse, she feared that she had fallen so far that nobody would see her lying there, and night was coming on. She moved her eyes slightly to get a better look at where she had fallen, and saw something that made her catch her breath.

Parked on the edge of the road was the black sedan. The sun was long gone, so its headlights were on. Behind the gleaming beams, the chrome bumper grinned at her. The driver's door opened. She was finally going to see the monster who had run her off the road. Who could it possibly be? The driver walked to the front of the car so he could be seen in the headlights. It was like he wanted Courtney to see him. At first Courtney didn't understand what she was seeing. It didn't make sense. Standing on the edge of the road, looking down at her…was Whitney.

The cute, wavy-haired blond athlete stood in the lights of the black sedan with his hands on his hips, staring at Courtney. Courtney felt hope. It was Whitney! This was all an accident! She realized the car must belong to one of his friends. He must have been worried about her and taken the car himself to go back to school and get her. This was nothing more than a horrible, ironic accident. It had to be. She was saved. She wasn't going to have to spend the night in the forest. Courtney was sure that everything was going to be fine—until Whitney spoke.

“I give, and I take away,” Whitney said with an arrogant air. “You people of Second Earth are so easily controlled. I was hoping this would be more of a challenge but, alas. It was not meant to be. I'll send your love to Pendragon…Corwind.”

With that, Whitney laughed. It was a horrible, screeching laugh that froze Courtney's soul. What she saw next did the same to her mind. Whitney's body turned into a liquid shadow. It hovered in the air, changing shape until he became a huge black bird. With a quick flap of its wings, the bird lifted off from the ground and flew into the Berkshires, leaving Courtney to die.

Courtney was spiraling into oblivion. Soon she would be unconscious. It was over. She had lost. It was the most important challenge of her life, and Courtney had lost.

Courtney didn't like to lose. It was the one thing that stayed constant throughout her torment and trouble. As bad as things got, she never accepted defeat. That simply wasn't in her nature. As she lay in that forest, broken and barely conscious, she willed her hand to move. An inch. Two inches. She knew that if she had fallen the wrong way and her hand was pinned under her, her desperate move would be futile. But she hadn't. She was able to walk her hand along, pulling it forward with crawling fingers, until she grasped the cell phone clipped to her belt. Miraculously it hadn't been torn off in the fall. Courtney couldn't see it, but she could feel the buttons. The chances of dialing a number, even 911, were impossible. She was losing consciousness, fast. She had to fight it. Her best chance was to use speed-dial. She felt the buttons until she found what she thought was the number 1. She hit it, while using every bit of concentration and willpower she possessed to stay conscious.

 

Mark Dimond finished dinner, washed the dishes, and dragged himself up to his room. His plan was to surf the Net for a while, catch a show on
Comedy Central,
and crash. No sooner did Mark get to his room than he realized his night was going to be very different from what he expected.

His ring started to twitch.

Suddenly he wasn't so tired anymore. A quick jolt of adrenaline will do that. Mark quickly closed his door, locked it, and put his ring on the floor. The light show was beginning. In a few moments Bobby's next journal would arrive. He knew there would be no
Comedy Central
that night. It was time to go back to Zadaa.

Mark didn't realize that on his desk, another message was waiting for him. His cell phone was flashing. But he never checked that phone because nobody ever called him. With a new journal coming in, there was even less chance of him checking it. His attention was on his ring and the incoming journal. If he had looked at his phone he would have seen a two-word message flashing over and over.

MESSAGE WAITING
.

But he didn't look.

ZADAA

W
ar.

It's such a small, innocent word that's used to describe something that isn't small or innocent. Why is that? Shouldn't war at least be a “four letter word”? Whatever. I'm sitting here, deep underground in Rokador territory, waiting for it all to begin. Or end, depending on how you look at it. Everything we feared would happen is going to happen. The Batu are about to attack. The assassination of Pelle a Zinj pretty much cemented that. Whatever chance there was of finding peace between the tribes has died along with Pelle. The only question left is how soon the fireworks will start.

We know a lot more about what's going on now. None of it is good. We now know what Saint Dane has been up to here on Zadaa. All of it. He had a hand in engineering the assassination, as I figured he did. If Pelle had lived, there was a good chance he would have stopped the war. But that wouldn't have worked into Saint Dane's plan. He needed Pelle gone, and he got an impressionable Rokador to do it for him. As usual. He never does the dirty work himself. It's always about getting the people of the territory to hurt themselves.

But that was only the beginning of his plan to topple Zadaa. As I write this journal to you guys, I'm afraid he's going to win here. I don't see how we can stop it. The events that are about to take place will change the course of Zadaa forever. It won't be for the better, that much I can guarantee.

I'm going to tell you everything that's happened since Pelle was killed. These are the events that have led Zadaa to the brink of disaster. As I sit here, so far belowground, I can't help but wonder if I will ever see the sun again. Any sun.

There is a huge irony here too. By manipulating events so that Pelle was killed, Saint Dane put the tribes on a path to war. However, the trigger was pulled by an event that was totally out of his control.

It began to rain.

 

“Keep moving,” Loor ordered as we ran against the festive crowd that continued to follow the parade toward the palace of Zinj. These people had no idea that their joy would soon turn to anguish. They were about to discover that their beloved prince had been killed. It was a sad feeling, knowing that these happy, jubilant people would soon be crushed.

Suddenly the crowd stopped moving. A moment before, they had been pushing to get to the palace. The streets were so dense with people, we could barely work our way through. Now the mass of humanity had stopped. Oddly, one by one, they looked toward the sky. The raucous music and laughter of the festival died. An eerie quiet fell over the masses. Loor and I were so focused on getting through, we didn't stop to question what was happening. That changed the instant we heard someone yell: “Look!”

We stopped short, looked at each other, then to the sky. The surprise wasn't what we saw, but what we didn't see.

There were no stars.

“Is it possible?” I asked in awe.

Loor answered in two whispered words. “Rain clouds.”

A moment later the skies opened up. It wasn't just rain, it was a storm. A deluge. There was an odd moment where the crowd stood there, not reacting. I don't think anybody could believe it. But that didn't last. A cheer went up, then another, and another. The excitement spread and in seconds, the crowd went nuts. Their wild, festive dancing for the parade was just a warm-up. Lightning flashed through the sky, followed by a boom of thunder that rocked the ground. The people ate it up. They hugged, they cheered, everybody was everybody's friend. I got grabbed and kissed by a couple of Batu women. These people were celebrating as if their long, horrible nightmare was finally over.

“Is that it?” I screamed to Loor over the crowd. “Does it all end this easily?”

Loor started to answer, but realized we couldn't hear each other. She waved for me to follow, and we left the crowd to find a quiet place where we could talk.

“I do not know,” Loor answered. “I suppose it depends on how much rain falls.”

“This is incredible!” I said, and stepped out of the doorway to feel the healing rain on my face. “Wouldn't it be awesome if all it took to beat Saint Dane was for the weather to change?”

Loor didn't look so optimistic. “Do not forget that Pelle a Zinj has been assassinated. By a Rokador. That will not help Batu-Rokador relations, even if the drought is over.”

“Right,” I said soberly. “Saint Dane could have set up that murder to make sure there would be a war even if the drought ended.”

“There is much we do not know,” Loor said. “I will go to the Ghee command to see what their thinking is.”

“I don't suppose it would be cool if I went with you,” I said.

“No. Go to Alder. I will return as soon as I learn more.”

Before we split up, I took a long look at her. It didn't matter that she was soaking wet, she still looked amazing. Maybe more so because the rain made her hair glisten and her eyes sparkle. I wanted to hold that image in my head.

“What is wrong?” Loor asked.

I almost said, “I think you're beautiful.” I didn't. It wasn't the right time. Who knew if that time would ever come?

“Nothing,” I answered. “Be careful.”

“And you,” Loor said.

She leaped out of the doorway and sprinted off through the rain. Her long strides took her away quickly as she splashed through the newly formed puddles. The sick thought suddenly hit me that I wasn't sure if I could find my way back to the hospital. That would have been a totally stupid move. As it turned out, I only took a few wrong turns before getting there. I was also able to make my way down deep into the bowels of the building and easily find the room where Alder was recovering. When I arrived, I saw that he was still sleeping. Saangi was sitting by his side. When she saw me, her face lit up.

“Is it true?” she asked. “Is it raining?”

“You tell me,” I said, holding out my wet arms.

Saangi touched my wet sleeve as if it had been dipped in gold. She squeezed the material until water dribbled out, then touched her wet finger to her lips. She smiled. It was the bright, happy smile of a young girl, something I hadn't seen in Saangi since I met her.

“Does this mean there will be no war?” she asked.

That was the big question. I hated to have to be the one to tell her the bad news about Pelle, but I had to. When I told her what had happened, her smile quickly fell. Her short moment of freedom from worry was over.

“The rain does not matter,” she said coldly. “Hatred cannot be washed away. I fear there will still be a war.”

“That's what Loor's trying to find out,” I said.

I checked on Alder and saw he was sleeping peacefully.

“Doctor Nazsha believes he will fully recover,” Saangi said. “What do we do now?”

I sat down on one of the hard, stone chairs and said, “We wait for Loor.”

I closed my eyes. I didn't want to talk anymore. If we had to wait, I figured I might as well take advantage and get some sleep. If there's one thing that I learned as a Traveler, it was to steal naps when I could. It didn't matter what time of the day it was, or how long I had. Even a few minutes helped. I closed my eyes and tried to shut down my mind. It worked. I have no idea how long I was out. It could have been a few minutes, or a couple of hours. It didn't matter. However long I was out, my peaceful rest was instantly shattered when I opened my eyes to a sobering sight. Standing in the doorway was the answer to the question of whether or not the rainstorm was going to wash away the war. It was Loor. She didn't have to say anything. She simply stood there. But seeing her, I knew.

She was back in her armor.

Gone was the beautiful red dress and open sandals. Gone too was her jewelry and decorative armbands. Her hair was tied back tight, and her wooden stave was lashed to her back. She was once again dressed to kill. Literally.

“Get ready,” she said to me, and held out a pile of black clothing. It was my Ghee armor. The party was officially over. I quickly dressed while we talked.

“What did you find out?” Saangi asked.

Loor looked troubled. “The rain has come from the north. Scouts have been tracking it for hours. It is a very big storm, big enough to begin the process of ending the drought.”

“Why do you say that like it's bad news?” I asked.

“Because the water is disappearing,” Loor answered. “Yes, the troughs in the city are collecting a small amount, but that won't last. There is still nothing coming from the rivers below. With all the rain that has fallen in the north, there should be some sign that the water is rising and the rivers are returning. There is not. They are as dry as they were yesterday.”

“So, you think that's proof that the Rokador are holding it back?” I asked.

“It doesn't matter what I think,” Loor said. “It is what the Ghee commanders are saying. This is the justification they were looking for. And now that Pelle a Zinj is dead, there is no one to stop them.”

“Whoa, wait,” I said. “It's one rainstorm! That's not enough proof.”

“There is more,” Loor said. “The Rokador ambassador to Xhaxhu has disappeared. He was last seen heading underground, along with his staff. Why would he leave? Especially now, when the Batu are saying the assassination was a Rokador plot. It would be his duty to defend the Rokador against those charges.”

Saangi said, “Unless he has no defense.”

I said, “Okay, I admit, that looks bad. But the Ghee have to cool off. This rain might keep coming and—”

“You do not have to convince me, Pendragon,” Loor said. “I am not the one preparing to march into the underground.”

My mouth went dry. Saangi shot Loor a look.

“Say that again?” I said.

“The rebels have taken control. Ghees who were loyal to Pelle now believe that war is the only answer. They are preparing to launch their attack.”

We all stood there, letting that ominous concept sink in. Those who wanted war because they blamed the Rokador for the drought now had their proof. Those who stood behind the royal family now had their reason as well. Revenge. The two sides had come together. There was going to be a war.

“How much time?” I asked.

“I do not know,” Loor said. “Maybe a few suns. They are smart. They will not launch this war until they are fully prepared.”

“What about you?” I asked. “Aren't you supposed to be with the Ghee?”

“I am now a deserter,” Loor said with no emotion. “If found, they will hang me.”

I felt dizzy. Things were happening a little too fast.

“Do you still think we should go to Kidik?” I asked.

“Now more than ever,” Loor said. “We need to know what Bokka found.”

“Do you think he discovered that the Rokador are holding back the water?” I asked.

Loor thought for a moment, and then said, “Since the beginning of the drought, I have held out hope that the Rokador would not deliberately try to harm the Batu. I still believe they would never do something so foolish, unless there were other forces at work.”

“Other forces like…Saint Dane?” I asked.

Loor nodded and said, “If it is true and the Rokador have been holding back the water, I believe that Saint Dane has somehow convinced them to do so.”

It was so simple. If the Rokador had the power to hold back the water, then it made all sorts of sense that somehow, some way Saint Dane had wormed his way into their confidence and convinced them to do it. That's how he operated. He tricked people of the territories into making bad decisions. And unless Bokka's dying words referred to somebody else named Saint Dane, then the evil demon was down there. It was now more clear than ever that if we had any hope of stopping this war, we had to go to Kidik.

“What about my stave?” I asked.

Loor reached outside the doorway and retrieved my familiar, worn stave. Osa's stave. She hadn't forgotten to bring it. I felt its weight, flipped it over my shoulder and into the harness. I was ready to go.

“This is gonna be tough,” I said. “A Ghee and a half aren't going to be welcomed by the Rokador with flowers and songs.”

“We will reach Kidik,” Loor said confidently. “Have faith. You have learned from the best.”

I had to smile. Loor's confidence was infectious. It was starting to rub off on me a little too.

Saangi said, “I will say again, I should come with you.”

Loor actually softened and said, “Saangi, I wish you could. I truly do. But Alder is in danger here. As soon as he is able to move, you must get him back to the flume. The battle against Saint Dane is not about Zadaa. It is about Halla. Alder must be kept safe.”

Saangi nodded. She hated to, but she nodded.

“It has been an honor to serve you,” Saangi said to Loor.

“You have my eternal thanks,” Loor responded.

“Whoa, time out,” I said. “Don't go saying that like you're never gonna see each other again. We'll be back.”