D. MacHale: The Rivers of Zadaa

It began with a battle.

A nasty one. Then again, is there such a thing as a nice battle? I guess this one seemed especially vicious because it was over something so trivial. At least that’s what I thought at the time. At stake was a couple gallons of water. I’m serious. Regular old everyday water. Not exactly the kind of thing you’d expect a group of professional warriors to fight to the death over, but that’s not the way it works here on the territory of Zadaa. Water here is more valuable than food, more valuable than treasure. It’s even more valuable than life. I know. I’ve seen people risk theirs to get a few precious drops.

How messed up is that?

Mark, Courtney, it’s been a while since I’ve written a journal to you guys, and for that I apologize. I think after I tell you all that’s happened since my last journal, you’ll understand why. From the time I arrived here on Zadaa, I haven’t had much timetothink, let alone kick back and write. I’m doing it now because I’m about to set out on an adventure that was long in coming. I’ve tried to avoid it, but now I have no choice. Starting tomorrow, life is going to be very different for me. I feel as if I’m closing the first chapter on my life as a Traveler and beginning a new and more dangerous one. I know, that doesn’t seem possible, but it’s the truth. Before I tell you about it, I need to let you know what happened since I landed back on Zadaa. You’ll need to hear it all to understand why I’ve chosen the path I’m about to take. Maybe writing it down will help me understand it a little better myself.

You won’t be surprised to hear that Saint Dane is here. I’ve already run into him. It wasn’t pretty. But more about that later. I also have a good idea of what the turning point is here on Zadaa. I think it has something to do with water…or the lack of it. I’ve no doubt that Saint Dane’s evil plan for this territory is somehow tied in to the water trouble they’re having. Bottom line is, our quest to stop Saint Dane’s plan to crush all of Halla has come to Zadaa. This is our next challenge. And so we go.

I first want to tell you about the battle that happened soon after I arrived. It’s important to hear because in many ways it’s a small example of the bigger trouble I found on this territory. That, and because one of the warriors involved in the fight was my friend. Loor. The Traveler from Zadaa.

“Keep to yourself, Pendragon,” Loor ordered as we strode along the dusty street of Xhaxhu. “Stay in the shadows. Do not look anyone in the eye. It is dangerous for a Rokador to be seen in the city.”

“But I’m not a Rokador,” I complained.

“Do not argue,” Loor said sharply. “Do as I say.”

I didn’t argue. I knew what she meant. There were two tribes living in this area of Zadaa. The Batu lived above ground in the cities. They were a dark-skinned race, made so because they lived for generations under the hot, desert sun. Loor was a Batu. The other tribe was the Rokador. They lived underground in a labyrinth of tunnels that spread throughout Zadaa. They weren’t moles or anything; they were definitely civilized. But as you might guess, living underground didn’t do much for their tans. The Rokador were a light-skinned race. So with my white skin and light brown hair, I pretty much looked like a Rokador. And since there was some serious bad blood between the Batu and the Rokador, making myself invisible up here on the surface was a smart idea. To that end, Loor had me wearing heavy, dark clothing that covered my head and arms. It was great for a disguise, not so great for keeping cool. I’m guesstimating that the temperature in Xhaxhu averages about ninety degrees. On a cool day. So I was sweating like a fiend. Or at least a fiend in a sauna wearing a winter coat.

“Can’t somebody take your place?” I asked.”Imean, we have more important things to worry about.”

Loor looked straight ahead as she strode along. Her jaw set. I’d seen this look before. She had her game face on. I know you guys can picture her. She’s hard to forget. I’d grown a few inches since I first met her on Denduron, but she still had me by a solid two inches. Her once almost-waist-length black hair was a bit shorter now, falling to her shoulders. I guess the long hair got in the way when she did her training. As you know, Loor is a warrior. Here on Zadaa they call the warrior class “Ghee.” When I first met Loor, she was a warrior-in-training. Since then, she has been elevated to full-fledged warrior status. I’m guessing she was at the head of her class. She’s that good. She even looks the part. This girl is totally cut. I’m talking stupid-low body fat. It isn’t hard to see this since her lightweight leather armor reveals a lot of skin. Wearing heavy metal armor like the knights of the Round Table wouldn’t fly here on searing-hot Zadaa. You’d end up cooking like Spam in the can. Assuming Spam is actually cooked, which I’m not so sure about. But whatever. You get the idea. The warriors here had to be protected, but cool. Unlike me, who had to be wearing a wool-freakin’-blanket.

The muscles in her long arms and legs flexed as she moved down the street, making her look even more formidable. I guess when you’re a professional warrior, having an awesome athletic body goes with the territory. So to speak.

“I have no choice but to fight today,” Loor finally answered. “I am next in the rotation.”

“Rotation?” I snapped. “What are you, a baseball pitcher? Have them change the schedule. Find a relief pitcher. If something happens to you then-“

“If I do not fight,” Loor interrupted, “the Ghee commanders will mark me as a coward and banish me to a labor colony in the desert. Or I could get lucky and they would execute me.”

“Oh,” I said soberly. “Not a whole lot of great choices here.”

“Do not worry, Pendragon,” she said, finally looking at me. “Our destiny is to stop Saint Dane. I will not let anything stand in our way.”

I believed her, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to worry.

“Loor!” came a voice from behind us. Running to catch up was Saangi. I’m not exactly sure what her official title is, but I guess on Second Earth you would call her Loor’s squire. You know, one of those young servants who are assigned to knights to take care of their every need. The Ghee warriors of Zadaa operated pretty much like the knights of old, without the Spam-can suits.

“You forgot this!” Saangi said, out of breath. She handed Loor a small, leather container that was about the size of a canteen. In fact that’s exactly what it was, a canteen full of water.

“No,” Loor said sternly. “I cannot use this.”

“But you will need water if the battle is difficult-,” Saangi protested.

“Take it back to my home,” Loor said firmly. “And do not let anyone see you with it.”

When Loor spoke in that serious tone, you didn’t mess with her. At least I didn’t. I figured Saangi knew better too. The girl’s shoulders fell in disappointment. I’m guessing she was around fourteen, only a few years younger than me. She had the dark skin of the Batu, but unlike Loor, her hair was cut tight to her head, like a guy. She wore simple, dark clothes that looked sort of like Loor’s, but they were made of cloth rather than leather. Someday she would wear the armor of a Ghee warrior, but until then, her job was to take care of Loor.

Oh yeah, one other thing. Saangi had another job. She was Loor’s acolyte. She knew all about the Travelers and our mission to stop Saint Dane. I thought Saangi was kind of young to have that kind of responsibility, but then again, I was only fourteen when I became a Traveler. Still, Saangi seemed more like an eager kid than a future warrior who could help us defeat a world-crushing demon. But that’s just me.