D. MacHale - The Rivers of Zadaa

At first the only thing that kept me going was my anger at Loor and Alder and Saangi for the torture they were putting me through. They were relentless. I soon realized why Loor needed Alder’s help. They took turns working me over. When they weren’t making my life miserable, they were resting up to do it all over again. I didn’t have that luxury. I stole sleep where I could, but it wasn’t all that restful because I was never sure if one of them would pop up and start working me over again. That’s how intense it was. I felt incredibly alone. The only time anyone spoke to me was when they were giving me instructions. There were no time-outs. We didn’t hang around at the end of a long day and compare notes over cold drinks. I was on my own.

For me it was all about winning water, and food. If I didn’t earn it, I didn’t drink. Or eat. Starvation is a pretty good motivator. It sure makes you focus. Much of each day I spent wandering around Mooraj, looking for where they kept the food. I never found it. The others would be hiding, watching, and planning their next move. Without warning one of them would leap in front of me, and a training battle would follow.

Next up was Alder. He, too, used the hollow bamboo pole rather than the more dangerous, wooden weapon. I guess I should be grateful for something. I had my own pole, taken from the tepee that once held the canteen of water Loor wouldn’t let me have.

“Do not face me square-on,” Alder coached. “A smaller target is harder to hit.”

I attacked, swinging my pole at him. He knocked me away easily, then cracked me on the back of the head.

“You’re a pretty big target,” I said. “Why can’t I hit you?”

“Because you are trying,” Alder answered.

“Don’t give me that Yoda garbage,” I said. “Tell me what to do.”

“Relax,” Alder instructed. “If you are tense, you will make mistakes. Above all, never make the first move.”

“Relax? In a fight?” I lunged at him with the stick straight out like a sword. He easily knocked me away, spun, hit me on the shoulders and then spun back and hit my shins. I felt like I was fighting a swarm of bees. Alder wore the four red spikes, just like Loor. I desperately needed to knock one of them off to get water, but I might as well have been swinging with my eyes closed. I had no chance. What was so amazing was that I was using all my energy to get nowhere, and he was barely moving. After knocking me to my knees one last time, I looked up to see that Alder was gone.

“What’s the matter?” I yelled to nobody. “Had enough?”

I got no answer. I didn’t know if I was learning anything, but I was definitely losing gas and growing a few dozen black-and-blue marks. My throat felt like sandpaper. I was dizzy with hunger. I needed to score one of those spikes or I wouldn’t make it. I got my chance when Saangi appeared on the far side of the compound. She stood holding the black canteen. I didn’t want to look too desperate, even though I was. I walked toward her, but slowly. I got about twenty yards away when she held up her hand.

I stopped and called out, “Is it your turn now?”

“I’m here to give you this,” she called back, and held up the black canteen.

I could have kissed her, but realized it was probably too good to be true. “What do I have to do for it?” I asked suspiciously.

“Come and get it,” Saangi said calmly. “Be sure to watch where you step.”

Huh? I looked down to see she had stopped me about a foot from a pit cut into the ground. It was only five feet deep, so I wouldn’t have killed myself if I fell in. But it would have hurt. It was a long rectangle that stretched between me and Saangi. I saw that it was around six feet wide, with bars running across every four feet or so.

“What is this?” I called out sarcastically. “A test of my courage?”

“No,” Saangi answered. “It is a test of your balance. Make it across and the water is yours.”

Oh man. I was supposed to hop from bar to bar. Four feet apart may not seem like much, but the bars looked to be around three inches wide, and there was a drop.

“What if I fall?” I asked.

“Do not,” Saangi said.

“Great. Thanks for the tip.”

I was scared. But I was thirsty, too. I had to do this. Without taking time to think, I leaped forward, landed on the first bar, lost my balance, and fell to the side.

“Begin again,” Saangi commanded.

I went back to the beginning and leaped for the first bar, hit with both feet and pinwheeled my arms until I got my balance.

“Bend your knees; Pendragon,” Saangi said calmly.

Oh. Right. I bent down and instantly got my balance. I took a breath and leaped for the next bar, this time keeping my knees bent. I made it! Looking forward, I saw that there were only ten more bars to go. It seemed like a hundred. I leaped for the next one, and hit it off balance. I wobbled back and forth and was ready to bail out to the side, but instead I launched for the next bar. I only got one foot on it…and fell through. I caught the bar under my right armpit, making my newly healed ribs burn with pain. But I refused to let go. I hung there for a second, my legs swinging beneath me.

“If you drop off,” Saangi said calmly, “you must start over.”

I had earned these few bars; I was not about to give them up. Do you know how hard it is to go from hanging below a three-inch-wide bar to getting your feet up on top so you can stand on it? Neither did I. But I found out. I wrapped one leg around the bar and twisted and pulled until I was sitting on it. It gave me a chance to rest, but I still had to get up and get moving.

“Is there a time limit to this?” I asked.

“No,” Saangi answered. “You will run out of strength before you run out of time.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said.

I cautiously got one foot up on the bar, put my weight on it, and was able to get my other knee up, and finally, my foot.

I was back on top! Balancing on a three-inch-wide beam wouldn’t be all that hard if it were flat on the ground. Keeping your balance while hanging in the air was a whole nother matter.

“Pretend there is no pit,” Saangi suggested, reading my mind.

“Easier said than done,” I replied.

I decided to change my tactics. Jumping onto a bar and stopping to get my balance wasn’t going to work. I had to use momentum. I figured this would either work, or I’d break my head. I bent my knees and leaped forward. I hit the next bar with one foot, but rather than stopping, I kept my forward momentum going. I launched off that foot and leaped for the next bar. And the next and the next. It wasn’t graceful, and I was always a breath away from falling, but it worked! I kept going over the last few rungs and with one final lunge I landed on the other side, thrilled to be back on solid ground.

“Yes!” I shouted in victory.

Saangi didn’t offer congratulations. I didn’t want any. I wanted the canteen. She gave it to me and started walking away.

“What about food?” I asked.

“When you earn it,” she said without turning back.

I didn’t care. I had water! I sat down and pulled out the leather plug, ready to down the whole canteen. After one gulp of the sweet, delicious liquid, I forced myself to slow down. There was no telling when I’d get more. I didn’t want to risk coughing and losing a single drop. Besides, I wanted to enjoy it. So I took my time, and I have to say, it was the sweetest drink I’ve ever had.

The thrill of victory didn’t last long. No sooner did I finish the water than I realized I was still thirsty. And hungry. I knew that in order to survive this ordeal, I was going to have to conserve my energy. Whenever I got the chance, I kept to the shadows or stayed in the barracks. When I wasn’t looking for food, that is. Or fighting. And I fought a lot. They all took turns sparring with me, giving me hints, teaching me. Nobody ever got mad or frustrated when I messed up, which was often. They didn’t need to yell to make their point. They had a much more effective technique. They hit me. Over and over. I always knew when I messed up because I’d get hit or knocked down. At one point I took off my Rokador jacket to see that I was totally covered with black-and-blue marks. Not pretty.