D. MacHale - The Quillan Games

The musical notes grew more frantic, which meant she was about to arrive at her destination. Courtney tensed up. Just before she landed, the last thought she had was that she wished Mark was with her. A moment later her feet touched solid ground. She stood up, having been gently deposited at the end of the line. Brilliant light swirled everywhere, making it impossible to see where she was. It took a few seconds for the light and music to recede back into the flume, and allow her the first look at her new surroundings. She took a quick look around to see… she was back in the root cellar under the Sherwood house. She was still on Second Earth!

Courtney had no idea what to make of that. It was the absolute last place she expected to be. On the other hand, it was the best place she could be. She was safe at home, though she knew “safe” was a relative word. She was relieved, but frustrated. There was nobody she could go to and ask what had happened. She didn’t have Mark to help figure it out. She was about as alone as she had ever been in her life.

She said to herself, Get used to it, Chetwynde.

She felt an odd sensation. Her first thought was that she was being pulled back into the flume, so she jumped forward like she was stepping on hot coals. A quick look back showed her that the flume wasn’t activating. So what was she feeling?

The answer came a second later. Light sparkled from the ring on her finger. The Traveler ring. Mark’s ring. No, her ring. She quickly took it off and put it on the ground in front of the flume. The ring grew and light flashed from the opening. Courtney closed her eyes. She needed a second to catch her breath. She didn’t know when she’d get another chance. The musical notes grew louder, and ended just as quickly. When Courtney opened her eyes, the ring was back to normal. On the ground next to it was another envelope just like the last one that had come through. It was Bobby’s next journal from Quillan.

The first journal she was solely responsible for.

She said out loud, “And so we go.”

This is the beginning of the end. Or the end of the beginning. I’m not sure which. After you finish reading this journal, guys, you can tell me. In fact, you can tell me in person because I’m coming home. It’s time. Ever since Saint Dane made that comment on Zadaa about knowing what’s happening with Courtney, I’ve been worried about what might be going on back there. Maybe I should have already come home, but I made the choice to go to Quillan. I hope that wasn’t a mistake.

My experience here on Quillan has been different than on any of the other territories. As I’m writing this, I’m still not a hundred percent sure of what the turning point is. Saint Dane was right about one thing-this territory is a mess. I already told you a lot about it. I’ve seen so much more. I’ll tell you about it in this journal. The big question is, is Quillan already lost? I don’t think so.

I’ve been given a golden opportunity to try to make things better, at least in a small way. It may not be a huge, global turning point, but who knows? Maybe a small positive change can snowball and help put the territory back on its feet. That’s hoping for a lot, but what can I say? It’s all I’ve got.

It won’t be easy. In fact, it’s pretty scary. But that’s okay. I’m up for it. I’m writing this journal now, because it’s about to begin. When it’s over, I believe I will have done as much as I can for the people of Quillan. But there’s more to it than that. If I’m successful, and I will be, I think I’ll be taking a huge step toward reaching the end of this whole odyssey. Not just here on Quillan, but as a Traveler. Saint Dane is losing, I’m sure of that now. He’s desperate. We’ve lost Travelers along the way, and that is a tragedy, but we’re winning. You know how I keep writing about how I’m afraid that we may be winning battles and possibly losing the war? I don’t think that’s the case anymore. I think we’re winning battles and getting close to winning the war, too. Saint Dane’s confidence isn’t what it used to be. Since I became a Traveler, he has done everything he could to get me to give up, but I’m still here. He tried to get me to join him, but I never considered it, even for a second. On Zadaa he went so far as to beat me up physically to get me to give up the fight. It didn’t work. It only made me stronger. Here on Quillan he’s trying something new. He’s going to fail at that, too. All this tells me is that he’s running out of ideas. We’re going to beat him, guys. I think what’s happening here on Quillan is the beginning of the end. Or the end of the beginning… of my life as a Traveler. Of course there are no guarantees. Anything can happen. But for the first time since I left home, I can see the end, and it’s good.

To explain what I’m about to do, I have to go back to when I was kidnapped away from Veego and LaBerge by the Traveler from Quillan, Nevva Winter. It turned out that she wasn’t at all the person I first thought she was. But more about that later. After the accident I was kept in that cool, wet, fishy-smelling cell for about a day. They tried to make me comfortable, but that wasn’t easy considering the bed was a thin mattress and it was so damp that my bones ached. At least it wasn’t as bad as that cell on Eelong. Not by a long shot. Compared to that, this was like living large at the Manhattan Tower Hotel.

I wasn’t treated badly, though. There was a guy stationed outside my room who actually apologized for having to keep me in that cell. He said I wasn’t a prisoner, but that it wouldn’t be safe for me to be wandering around. I didn’t question him. Safe was good. A few times I asked him where I was and who the others were, but he just shook his head and said it wasn’t his place to tell me.

Just once I’d like to meet up with somebody who had all the answers and was willing to spill.

I took the time to write my last journal and collect my thoughts. Of course everything Saint Dane told me about Blok and how it controlled every aspect of everything on Quillan kept rolling around in my head. This was a territory run entirely by a store, and for profit. It was a soulless society that existed only to serve the bottom line of Blok, and to make those who ran the company wealthy. How sick was that?

On top of my worrying about the sad state of Quillan, Saint Dane had dangled a very big carrot that was tearing me apart. He wanted me to compete in the big game called the Grand X. Why? He wanted to see me lose. No, he wanted to see me humiliated. In return he offered to explain the origin of the Travelers. Could I trust him? It was an incredible opportunity. He was offering to unlock everything. Everything! I could discover who I really was and what had happened to my family. But as desperate as I was to learn those truths, I decided that the stakes were too high. With the Quillan games it wasn’t so much about winning or losing, it was about staying alive. People died playing these games. It wasn’t worth the risk, no matter how tempting the payoff. No way I was going to enter the Grand X.

That’s where my head was as I hung out in that cell. I tried to get some sleep and probably nodded out a few times, but it sure wasn’t restful. At one point my guard came in with a breakfast of dry bread and overripe fruit. It wasn’t exactly gourmet, but I was too hungry to care. I was nearly finished when my cell door opened again, and in stepped the person I wanted most to see. Nevva Winter. Finally! She was dressed all in black, just as she had been the day before when I was kidnapped. She moved quickly, almost nervously. That was her style.

“Good morning!” she said, hurrying in. “I hope you slept well.”