D. MacHale - The Quillan Games

“Hello, Pendragon,” came a voice. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

I whipped around to see Nevva standing behind the bench. Phew. “Later” meant now. Good thing. I didn’t like the idea of sitting on a hard bench for long. I was too beat.

“I can’t stay long,” she said. “I wouldn’t know how to explain to Veego and LaBerge why I’m still here.”

Nevva came across as somebody who was Г¤berefficient and buttoned up. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had “to do” lists. I was never like that. I’m more of a “wing it” kind of guy.

“You are everything Press said you would be,” she said.

“You knew my uncle?” I asked. It still surprised me to hear how Uncle Press had covered all the territories before I even knew I was a Traveler. Man, I missed him.

“Of course,” Nevva answered. “He came to Quillan a long time ago to tell me of my true destiny, and to give me this.” She pulled out the ring that dangled from her dark beaded necklace. When she spoke it was quickly and precisely. She seemed to know exactly what was going on. I, on the other hand, was floundering.

“Your true destiny,” I repeated. “What exactly is your true destiny? Who are you?”

“I’m the Traveler from Quillan of course,” she said as if she didn’t understand how I didn’t know that.

I stared at her for a long moment. I think my brain went back into the deep-freeze again. Nevva was the Traveler from Quillan. Then who was Remudi? Here I was looking for answers, and everything she said only led to more questions.

She continued, “I’ve been receiving journals from acolytes all over Halla, detailing your encounters with Saint Dane.”

“Acolytes send you journals?” I asked dumbly, trying to keep my head above water and make sense of all this.

“Yes,” she said. “Many yet to hear from your acolytes, Mark Dimond and Courtney Chetwynde.”

“I don’t think they know they’re supposed to be writing,” I said.

Are you guys writing journals? Are you communicating with other acolytes? I have no idea.

“I haven’t chosen an acolyte myself yet,” she said. “I simply haven’t had time. In fact, I may not choose one. I can operate more efficiently on my own.”

“Whoa, wait wait, slow down,” I said. “If you’re the Traveler from Quillan, wasn’t Remudi your acolyte? He had a ring, didn’t he?”

Nevva frowned. “That should never have happened. I tried to stop him from competing, but I have no power. You saw how Veego and LaBerge treat me. I am only an assistant to the trustees. Remudi was a brave and talented soldier, but he wasn’t ready to compete. I’m heartsick that we’ve lost another Traveler. Perhaps if he’d had more time…”

“What?” I shouted. “You just said that you’re the Traveler from Quillan! Was Remudi the Traveler before you?”

“No,” Nevva snapped. She sounded irked that I didn’t know the whole story, but she softened quickly. I think she finally realized that there was no way I could know the whole story. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought you knew.”

“Knew what!” I insisted.

“Remudi was the Traveler from Ibara,” she said.

For the third time that day I stared at Nevva Winter as my brain left to go on vacation somewhere. She had just dumped a truckload of information on me that I wasn’t even close to expecting.

“Ibara?” I croaked. “That’s another territory?” “Well, of course,” Nevva said with surprise. It was if I had just said, “United States? Is that a country?”

“How did a Traveler from another territory end up here on Quillan?” I asked. “No, how did a Traveler from another territory end up dead here on Quillan?”

Before Nevva could answer, we heard a car pull into the courtyard. Nevva grabbed me and pulled me down into the bushes.

“Remudi is the least of it,” she whispered hurriedly. “There is so much to tell. You need to see it all. Quickly.” Yeah, no kidding.

“Who is Mr. Pop?” I asked. I couldn’t get the questions out fast enough. “And who are the trustees? And what is Blok?”

I heard voices coming from the courtyard. It sounded like Veego. She was barking orders to somebody.

“Tomorrow,” she said. “You will learn it all tomorrow. That’s why I needed to see you tonight, to give you this.” She handed me a small silver clip that looked like a thick staple.

“And this is…?”

“A blocking diode,” she explained. “Keep it with you, but don’t let anyone know you have it. And don’t use it unless it’s absolutely necessary. You can only use it once. After that they’ll know you have it.”

“O… kay,” I said skeptically. “It would help a little if I knew what it did.”

“Clip it onto your loop,” she said. “It blocks the signal. They won’t be able to track you.”

Oh. Cool.

“I’d rather just take the loop off,” I said. “No,” she said. “They’ll know if it’s off.” “How come you don’t have one?” I asked. “Because I don’t wager,” she answered. “And I’m not a challenger.”

I heard the sound of dado voices outside. More were arriving.

“I have to go,” Nevva said. “Don’t lose that; it might save your life.”

She didn’t have to tell me that twice. Nevva moved to leave, but I grabbed her arm.

“You can’t leave!” I said. “I have to know what’s going on! A Traveler is dead!”

“You will,” she said. “It would take too long to explain now, and if I’m caught, two more might join him.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

“All right,” I said with resignation. “Let’s hope I don’t get killed before then.”

“You won’t be,” she said. “Just do as they say and you will be fine.”

Nevva started away again, and I said, “Wait, you gotta tell me one thing. Have you found Saint Dane? Why did he leave these challenger clothes at the flume?”

“He didn’t,” Nevva said. “I did.”

With that, she was gone.

(CONTINUED)

I know I’ve said this before, but I’ve never felt so alone. Another Traveler had died and I never even got the chance to meet him. Whatever the territory of Ibara was, it no longer had a Traveler. Unless, of course, there was somebody who was going to take Remudi’s place, but I had no way of knowing that. I couldn’t stress about it, because I had my hands full here on Quillan, and the one person who could help me make sense of it all, Nevva Winter, was beyond my reach because I was trapped inside that twisted castle and forced to play idiotic, deadly games.

Worse, it was Nevva who set me up to play these games in the first place by leaving challenger clothes for me at the flume! Why did she do that? I had assumed it was Saint Dane’s doing because seeing me getting beat up was just the kind of thing he liked doing. But another Traveler? She was supposed to be on my side! Why did she put me in this spot? Could the answer be that she was an idiot? No, that didn’t fly. If there was one thing I could tell about Nevva Winter, she was smart. And efficient. She wouldn’t have made a dumb mistake like that. There was more to it than that. Nevva promised that my questions would be answered the next day. There was only one problem with that.

She didn’t come back the next day. Or the day after that. I kept waiting for her to show up and get me the heck out of there, but she didn’t. What was she doing? What had happened? It was making me nuts. I was still as much in the dark about how Quillan worked as when I arrived, and the one person who could help me understand, the Traveler from this territory, had abandoned me.

At least I can say that while I was stuck there, I was comfortable. Veego and LaBerge weren’t kidding. I was treated like royalty. The food was great; my new room was big, comfy, and clown free; I had the run of the castle and even had a servant. Fourteen. He was always there to get me anything I wanted. Short of freedom, that is. Doesn’t sound too horrible, does it?