D. MacHale - The Pilgrims of Rayne

“I’ll risk it,” I said.

I heard a sniffing sound as if my dog, Marley, were around and I had bacon in my ear.

I turned quickly to find the girl named Twig had her nose by my cheek. “You don’t smell scared anymore.” She looked at Siry and smiled. “I like him.”

“We might need him again,” the blond thief added.

Siry gave me another look. He scowled and said to me, “Don’t get in my way.”

I had been accepted by the Jakills. I hoped that was a good thing.

(CONTINUED)

Siry picked out four Jakills to help move the wounded, including his blond friend. The others were told to scatter. The six of us awkwardly carried the unconscious through the village and back to the hut. Along the way we got strange looks from the people of Rayne. We were a bunch of scruffy-looking kids, carrying three bodies. I’d stare too. Many of them quickly turned away and hurried back into their homes, as if we were carrying the plague. When we got back to the hut where I had first woken up after being attacked by the quig-bees, Telleo was sitting outside, reading. She looked so peaceful sitting there. It wouldn’t last.

“What happened?” she asked, jumping to her feet. She looked around anxiously, as if worried that others were watching the scene.

“A group of Flighters tried to attack the tribunal,” Siry answered.

“Bring them inside quickly,” Telleo instructed while glancing around again. She definitely didn’t want anybody seeing us. We carried the wounded inside the hut and gently laid them down on beds. Telleo did a quick appraisal of each.

“We have to get a doctor,” she concluded.

“No!” Siry barked.

“They need care,” Telleo protested.

“Then give it to them,” Siry shot back. “I don’t want doctors here.”

Telleo was on the verge of panic. “But I can’t-“

“You can’t or you won’t?” Siry asked sharply.

This shut Telleo down. She nodded. “I’ll do what I can.”

Siry pointed to the other Jakills and said, “Go home. There’s nothing more to do here.”

Three of them left right away. The blond thief came up to me. “My name is Loque. Thank you.”

“Pendragon,” I responded.

He gave me a friendly hit on the shoulder and left. “Let her work,” Siry said to me, and left the hut. Telleo and I were the only ones left. Or at least, the only ones conscious. She looked scared. “Can you help them?” I asked. “I can try.”

“Why doesn’t Siry want doctors?”

“Doctors work for the tribunal. He doesn’t want anything to do with them.”

“What about you?” I asked. “Are you a Jakill?”

Telleo gave me a surprised look and chuckled. “No, I’m not. I don’t think the tribunal even knows that name. I’m surprised that you do.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, well, I work fast.”

“The tribunal would not be happy if they knew I was helping them. I could lose my job.”

“Isn’t that kind of… wrong?”

“It’s complicated,” she said with a resigned shrug. “I’m glad the tribunal didn’t send you away.”

“I’m glad they didn’t have me executed! They made Siry my babysitter instead. He’s supposed to keep me out of trouble. Some joke, huh?”

Telleo’s expression turned dark. “Be careful of him,” she said softly. “He’s not a bad person, but he’s playing a dangerous game.”

I walked for the door. “I’ll be careful. Good luck with these guys.”

She nodded. As soon as I left her and stepped out the door, Siry jumped me, grabbed my shirt and got right in my face.

“Did my father send you here?” he demanded. “Did he tell you to stop me?”

I could have dropped the guy in a heartbeat, but that wouldn’t do anything to earn his trust. I had to show strength, but not seem like a threat.

“No. To both questions.”

“Then why are you here? And don’t tell me it’s to battle some fantasy demon monster.”

He was making it tough. That’s exactly why I was there.

“What are you afraid of, Siry? What’s happening here?”

He pulled away from me. The guy was a mess of emotions, most of them negative. He was angry, distrustful, and scared. He started to speak, but stopped, as if the words were difficult. He was struggling to keep his emotions in check. The other Jakills were gone. We were alone. I didn’t think he’d have let his feelings show like that if the others had been around.

“Is it true?” he finally asked. “About my father?”

I nodded. Siry winced. The guy had a tough shell, but there was a heart in there somewhere.

“I didn’t know him,” I explained. “But I know a lot about him. Maybe I can help you understand him.”

“I know all I want to know,” he snapped viciously.

This wasn’t going well. I needed an ally on Ibara. I needed a Traveler, but all I had was an angry kid who had issues with his father. It wasn’t going to be easy to get him to accept his role as a Traveler and take on a whole bunch more.

“Your father was telling the truth,” I said. “I need your help.”

“You say that like I should care,” Siry shouted. “My father was on the tribunal. He was just as guilty as the rest of them.”

“Then help me understand,” I pleaded with him. “What is the tribunal guilty of?”

Siry stared at the ground. I felt as if he wanted to trust me, but didn’t know how.

“You said I was a target,” he said softly.

“We’re all targets. All Travelers. You don’t want to hear that, but it’s true. You’re going to find out soon enough. Better to hear it from me than-“

“Than Saint Dane?” he interrupted.

“I’m here to find the truth, Siry,” I said again. “Maybe I can help you get what you want too, but you have to trust me. I need to know about the tribunal and the Jakills and the Flighters.”

Siry looked at me as if I were from Mars. Or Second Earth. “You really don’t know anything, do you?” “What can I say? I’m from out of town.” Siry gave me a look that actually chilled me. “If you do anything to hurt the Jakills, I’ll kill you.” He meant it too.

Without another word, Siry walked toward the bay. He led me along the sandy path, down to the perfect white-powder beach and along the shore. The water was warm, like Cloral. It felt good to splash in it. Siry didn’t speak. I didn’t think he was used to opening up to anybody, especially a stranger, and I was about as strange a guy as he’d ever met. He was angry. Angry with the tribunal, with his father, and with life in general. He didn’t speak again until we were too far from the village to be overheard.

“We’re being lied to” was the first thing he said. “Everybody. Every last person in Rayne. Maybe everyone on Ibara.”

“Who’s lying? The tribunal?”

“It starts with them,” he answered. “They’re manipulating us all. They say they’re doing what’s best for everyone, but it’s not the truth.”

“What are they lying about?”

“Everything!” he snapped. “It’s about getting us to conform to their way of thinking. Their way of life. Living in this village is like being dead.”

“Really? Seems pretty sweet to me.”

“You don’t live here,” Siry snarled. “This is it. There’s nothing more. People live their boring little lives in their little huts doing little jobs. Every day. Everyone has his place. Nothing varies. When you turn seven, you’re evaluated and told what job you’ll do for the rest of your life. You have no choice. You know what job they’ve got for me? Farming. I’m supposed to grow food to feed the people who make the clothes that are worn by the people who catch the fish that are eaten by the people who build the huts for the people who pick up the trash of the people who repair the lights for the people who bring the water to the people who teach other people how to do all the boring jobs in the first place. It never ends. Every single day. That’s not living. It’s surviving.”