D. MacHale - The Rivers of Zadaa

Now I’m beginning to think it didn’t exactly happen that way. Since I wrote you last, I’ve learned some things about myself that I can’t explain. There are things I’m able to do that aren’t exactly normal. At least they aren’t normal for a kid who grew up in Stony Brook, Connecticut. I’m not just talking about the ability to be persuasive. Compared to what I’ve just done, that’s about as impressive as a card trick. There’s more. A whole lot more. That’s why my hand is shaking.

I’m confused. But I’m also upset. Take my word for it, it’s a strange feeling to realize you aren’t the person you thought you were. One of the things that’s kept me going this whole time has been my base. My home. You guys. Stony Brook. And of course, the hope that I will one day find my family again and get back to normal. Now I’m beginning to wonder if I truly belong on Second Earth. Or ever belonged there. What makes it worse is that if that’s true, I have no idea where Idobelong.

I don’t mean to sound so sorry for myself. I think you guys know that writing this all down helps me sort it out in my own head. I wish it would help me find some real answers. So far those have been few and far between. All I can do is look ahead, and keep searching.

I’ve got to tell you what brought me to this point. I suppose I should stop whining about my own pathetic state of mind and be grateful that I’m still around to write at all. I’ve got to reset my head, back to where it was only a short while ago, so I can get this all down. I finished my last journal when Loor and I were hiding with Teek, the Tiggen guard. The fuse was lit. There was about to be an invasion that would determine the future of Kidik, the Batu, the Rokador…and the entire territory of Zadaa.

We were safely hidden in a remote room deep below the main building on Kidik Island. No Tiggen guard would look for us there, and if the Batu attacked and the water was released, we would survive. Hopefully. Teek was off trying to get more information about the elite’s plan. That left Loor and me to regroup and plot our next move.

“We’ve got a couple of choices,” I said. “We can warn the Batu that they’re headed into a trap and hope they back off-“

“It is too late for that,” Loor interjected. “They were preparing to attack when we left Xhaxhu.”

“Okay. Then we can try to convince the Rokador elite that by wiping out the Batu, they would doom the rest of their tribe, because killing the Ghee warriors would leave them exposed to attack by the cannibal tribes of Zadaa.”

“That is not likely either,” Loor said. “Their hatred and fear of the Batu runs too deep.”

“I agree,” I said. “Which leaves us with the third option.”

“And what is that?” Loor asked.

I hated to say what I was about to say. It went against all we had been doing to defeat Saint Dane, and against my nature. It definitely went against Loor’s nature, but it seemed to be the only choice.

“We can leave,” I said.

Loor shot me a surprised look. “Leave? I do not understand.”

“I think Saint Dane has won,” I said. “I don’t know how we can stop this.”

“You are suggesting we abandon Zadaa and allow the territory to crumble?” Loor asked.

I didn’t answer right away because that’sexactlywhat I was suggesting, and it sounded rotten. This was tough. We were talking about Loor’s home.

“I’m sorry, Loor,” I said. “But we have to look at the big picture. We’ve already lost Kasha. Spader and Gunny are trapped on Eelong. The battle here on Zadaa is going to happen-“

“It will not be a battle; it will be a mass execution,” Loor said coldly.

“You’re right,” I said. “But whatever happens here on Zadaa, you and I must survive to continue the fight against Saint Dane. We have to think of all of Halla, not just one territory.”

Loor showed no emotion. She looked me square in the eyes. I wanted to be able to read her mind to know what she was thinking. Or maybe I didn’t. She might not have had such a hot opinion of me just then.

“I understand, Pendragon,” she said calmly. “Protecting all of Halla is of more importance than saving one territory. Your decision is a wise one. I will get you back to the flume.”

“Good,” I said, though I wasn’t happy about it. “I know how you must feel-“

“I am sure you do,” Loor interrupted. “That is why I know you will understand when I say that I cannot leave Zadaa.”

“Why?” I asked in surprise. “You can’t stop this.”

“Perhaps not,” she said. “But I could not live with myself if I did not try. I agree that losing you would be a crushing blow in the fight against Saint Dane. I, on the other hand, would not be missed.”

“You are so wrong-“

“Please, Pendragon. My mind is made up. Perhaps I can stop some of the Batu from descending into the underground. Saving even a few lives would be worth the effort. Whoever is left alive will be needed to defend Xhaxhu from the marauders.”

I knew it was useless to argue.

“Come,” Loor said. “We must not waste more time.”

Ifelt like a coward. Though my brain told me it was the right move, my heart wasn’t so sure. I had never given up before. Iguarantee Loor had never given up. Ever. She wasn’t giving up now, either. Ididn’t feel as ifIhad a choice. Ihad to force myself to think of all of Halla. Losing a battle wasn’t the same as losing the war. Itried to convince myself thatIwasn’t running away, Iwas running toward the next battle. Ihoped that by the time we made it back to the flume, ifwe made it to the flume, Icould convince Loor to leave with me.

We left the small room and moved quickly through the labyrinth of underground tunnels, looking for the way to the surface of Kidik Island. We no longer feared running into a Tiggen guard. We knew there weren’t many left. Our plan was to get back to the beach, take the boat to the city of Kidik, and drive the dygo back to the flume. My biggest fear was that we would run into the first wave of Ghee warriors, and the show would be over. All we could do was keep moving, and hoping.

We finally popped out of the underground in a familiar area. We were on the ground level of the vast cemetery where most of the Rokador population was buried. Seeing all those white markers with the small flame burning on each was a gut-wrenching sight. It was hard to grasp the concept that so many had died-and so many more were soon to follow. The two of us stood looking out over the sea of death, humbled and sad.

“Why?” Loor asked. “Why is any of this happening?”

She didn’t expect an answer. She knew I didn’t have one. There was only one person who could answer that question. As it turned out, he was standing right behind us.

“Not guilty,” Saint Dane said.

Loor and I both whipped around quickly, pulling out our weapons.

Saint Dane was alone. He stood there with his arms out, showing that he wasn’t armed and not interested in fighting. “Please, there is no need for violence,” he said. He circled around us, walking to the edge of the cemetery. He looked out over the thousands of markers with a small smile. I hated thisguy.

“Such a tragedy,” he said.

“Yeah, right, like you care,” I said.

“Correct. I don’t care,” Saint Dane said. “The tragedy is that I had nothing to do with it.”

Loor took an angry step toward him. I held her back.

“You’re saying you didn’t prevent these people from using the cure until it was too late?” I asked. “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true,” he said. “The virus was a natural occurrence. I simply used the event to my advantage. It was the turning point on Zadaa…that, and the death of Pelle a Zinj. Thank you, by the way, for delivering him to the assassin. Without your help, the Batu may never have decided to attack. It was a nice little piece of insurance.”