D. MacHale: Raven Rise

“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.

Mark wanted to hit her. He forced himself to look away to allow the rage to pass. He had to think. The choice was impossible. He needed to buy some time. Hopefully an answer would jump out.

“How can I believe you?” he asked. “I could give you my ring, and you might hurt my parents anyway. What proof do you have that they’d be safe?”

“None,”Nevvaanswered abruptly. “You only have my word. But you also have my word that if you don’t give me the ring, they will die.”

Mark felt as if he had been hit in the stomach. He needed help. He needed to talk to Courtney. He couldn’t make this huge of a decision on his own.

It was at that moment that an idea came to him. It was a simple idea, but it offered a glimmer of hope.

“This is about isolating Bobby, right? You don’t want him to be able to contact me anymore?”

Nevva’s answer was to stare back at him silently. Mark felt the rush of hope. He got to his feet.

“You really think that by keeping Bobby from sending journals to me, it’ll help Saint Dane?”

Again Nevva didn’t answer.

Mark didn’t need an answer. He had already convinced himself that it was the truth. What he was beginning to realize, to hope, was that giving up his ring would mean nothing. There were other rings spread throughout Halla. Dodger was Gunny’s acolyte. He had his own ring! If Bobby wanted to contact him, or they wanted to contact Bobby, he could use Dodger’s ring. Was Nevva that dumb? He needed to talk to Dodger to make sure the little bellhop still had his Traveler ring.

“Can I give you my answer tomorrow?” Mark asked.

“No, you can give me your ring right now” was Nevva’s curt response.

Mark convinced himself. Giving up the ring would be inconvenient, but not disastrous. He clutched the heavy ring and yanked it off his finger. He held it, feeling its weight. Holding it with two fingers he took a close look. He hadn’t examined it for the longest time. In the center of the silver ring was a dark gray stone. Etched in the silver, circling the stone, were ten symbols. Each represented one of the territories of Halla. His mind flashed back to the time several years before, when he’d been awakened in the middle of the night by Osa, Loor’s mother. She handed Mark the ring, saying it was from Bobby. He had given it up only once since then. Other than that, he had worn it every minute for nearly four years. He knew that if he gave it to Nevva, he’d never see it again. But he convinced himself that it was okay. There were other rings he could use to contact Bobby. Saving this one ring wasn’t worth risking his parents’ lives, no matter what kind of test it represented. If it meant saving his parents, he wouldn’t mind failing.

He took a deep breath and held the ring out. “If you’re lying,” he warned, “I swear you’ll regret it.”

Nevva didn’t take it right away. Instead, she looked into Mark’s eyes. For a moment she seemed to soften. Mark thought she actually seemed disappointed.

“Saint Dane was right,” she said softly. “You are all selfish and shortsighted.”

Mark almost took the ring back. Before he could make a move, Nevva pulled it out of his grasp.

“Promise me,” he said. “Promise me my parents will be safe.”

“They won’t die in that plane crash, Mark,”Nevvasaid. “You have my word. You can trust me, which is more than I can say for you.”

Mark winced. What did she mean by that?

“Now go home,” she commanded. “Or do whatever you’d like. Go!”

Mark turned to head for the hotel. He didn’t want to have to look at Nevva anymore, but he was confused. Nevva’s reaction made no sense. He took a few steps, then stopped and turned back quickly. “I don’t get it. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Nevva was gone. He heard a screeching caw and looked to the sky. Overhead he saw a large black bird rising up-a raven. He watched it circle once, then with a quick flap of its wings, it shot off. As it moved, the sun reflected off something near its head.

In its beak, the raven clutched a ring.

(CONTINUED)

Dodger had arranged for three roomsin a small, out-of-the-way hotel on Brampton Place, near the large department store known as Harrods. Not that that mattered. Nobody felt much like shopping. The Dimonds were in one room, Courtney had her own, while Dodger and Mark shared a third. It was expensive, but Mark was paying and didn’t care.

“Why not?” he exclaimed when they first checked in. “I’m a rich inventor now, right? If I’m being paid the big bucks to alter the course of humanity, we might as well be comfortable.”

Nobody thought that was funny. Including Mark. The money truly meant nothing to him. He’d give it all back in a second if it meant he could reclaim Forge.

They had been in London for a little more than twenty-four hours and were already making plans to return to New York, having failed to convince KEM to give up Forge. The five sat together in the lounge of the hotel, drinking tea and eating scones. It was five o’clock. Tea time. That’s what people did in England at five o’clock. Mark wasn’t a tea guy. He wasn’t a scone guy either. What he really wanted was a Mountain Dew and some Garden Poultry fries.

“This is like eatin’ sawdust,” Dodger exclaimed as he chewed on the flaky pastry. He puckered his lips and tried to whistle. All that came out was a spray of dry crumbs. “Now I know why they drink so much tea. You gotta wash this stuff down or you’ll choke.” He took a big gulp of tea and added, “Gimme a good ol’ greasy doughnut anytime.”

Mr. and Mrs. Dimond chuckled. They seemed to actually enjoy the snack. Courtney did too. She was so hungry she’d eat anything, but that was Courtney. Mark simply stared out the window, lost in thought.