D. MacHale - The Lost City of Faar

“Where is the ocean?” asked Spader.

His voice was shaky. After all of the bizarro experiences I had put him through, the sight of this city was the first thing that really rattled him.

“Where is the ocean?” he asked again, more nervously.

It suddenly made sense to me. Cloral was a hundred percent water. There was no dry land. Seeing a place that was just the opposite must have been pretty freaky.

“It’s okay,” I said, trying to calm him. “There is no ocean here. At least not one that I can see. These people live on dry land.”

“That’s impossible! How can you live on dry land? There isn’t enough water for power or food!”

Okay, how weird was that? But I guess if you live in a place where everything comes from the ocean, having no ocean would be pretty scary.

“It’s cool, I swear,” I said. “It’s just a different way of living. You’ll see.”

Spader didn’t look so sure, but I wasn’t worried about him. He’d get it soon enough. It was then that I realized something strange. I glanced back out on the city and realized that there was something very important missing. There were no people! This was a huge city, yet the streets were empty.

“Let’s take a look around,” I said, and started to walk. Spader didn’t follow me this time. He was rooted to his spot. I had to go back to him and say, “C’mon! We have to find Loor.”

Reluctantly he followed. We walked along one of the streets that was paved with stone. Towering statues loomed over us as we made our way through this strange and wonderful place.

“I’m having trouble walking,” Spader said.

I didn’t get what he meant until I saw that he looked kind of unsteady. He seemed almost dizzy and had trouble keeping his balance. I realized that he was going through the reverse process of getting used to being on a boat. My father called it “getting your sea legs.” Spader had lived his entire life floating. This was the first time he was walking on solid ground and it was a strange sensation. Spader was trying to get his “land legs.”

I tried not to laugh and said, “You’ll get used to it pretty quick. But if you’re going to barf, let me know.” I didn’t know how far this landsickness might go.

We continued on a little more slowly and started to see some people, but not as many as you’d think. The people up here on the surface had much darker skin than the guy we saw below. These people looked more like Loor and Osa. Their skin was dark, and they wore multicolored robes that were pretty spectacular.

“I wonder where everybody is?” I said. “Maybe it’s some kind of holiday and — ” That’s when it hit me. The guy in the cavern below had said that the Batu would all be at the tournament! Maybe that was why the streets were deserted. Maybe everybody was at this tournament.

The very next person we saw, I stopped and asked, “Excuse me, which way to the tournament?”

It was a woman. She was tall and stern looking. She stared at me as if not sure why I would be asking such a simple question.

“Not many Rokador are interested in the tournament,” she said coldly. “They do not have the stomach.”

Rokador. That’s what the guy down below had said. Maybe the guys who lived below were called Rokador and the people on the surface were Batu. We must look like Rokador. I wasn’t sure if it was because of our white gowns, or the fact that we were pretty pale compared to the people on the surface.

“I think we can handle it,” I said.

The woman chuckled, but I’m not sure if she was laughing with us or at us. She directed us to stay on this street and it would take us right to the tournament. Excellent. We were happening. Spader and I picked up the pace. I felt certain this would bring us to Loor.

As we continued walking Spader got stronger. He was adapting pretty quickly, so I figured it was a good time to start getting him up to speed on things. I began by telling him about the territories and about how they were all connected by flumes. I explained how Uncle Press and I came from a territory called Second Earth and that we were both Travelers who journeyed to the territories to help out in times of trouble. I explained how Loor was a Traveler as well, which is why I wanted her help. I didn’t go into much more detail. It was better for him to get his mind around things a little at a time. For the first time I understood how Uncle Press felt when he explained things to me and I had so many questions. It really was easier to learn things as you went along.

Besides, the cheering up ahead told me that we had arrived at the tournament. Spader and I came to a building that looked like a coliseum. It wasn’t as big though. I guess it was closer to a high school stadium than a pro ballpark. It didn’t look as if we needed tickets either, because we walked right in.

The place was indeed a small stadium. As it turned out, my theory about why the streets were empty was correct. There were a couple of thousand people filling the stands. A quick look around told me that most of the spectators were Batu. They were dark skinned and wearing those colorful robes. But there were also a number of Rokador scattered throughout the crowd. They really stood out with their white robes and lighter skin.

There was a dirt playing field, and for an instant my thoughts went back to the Bedoowan stadium on Denduron and the gruesome quig battles where innocent miners were fed to beasts. I really hoped that they weren’t doing anything nasty like that here.

Spader and I walked up to the railing and looked onto the field in time to see two teams marching in from opposite sides of the arena. They were all Batu — not a Rokador among them. They looked like warriors. Each and every one of these players was lean and buff. They weren’t just men, either. It was half and half, men and women. They all wore these short leather tunics that showed a lot of skin, which is how I could tell they were all cut like athletes. They also wore lightweight protection on sensitive areas like elbows, knees, and the ever important groin. There were ten warriors to a side, and they marched in single file, carrying leather helmets under one arm while holding thin wooden clubs in the other.

“What’s the do here?” asked Spader.

“I’m guessing there’s going to be some kind of contest,” I answered. “My friend Loor is — ” That’s when I saw her. The last warrior to march in was Loor. Though she was younger than the rest, she looked every bit as formidable.

“That’s her,” I said to Spader while pointing to Loor.

“That’s your friend?” Spader asked with a mixture of surprise and awe. “She’s… she’s… amazing.”

Spader stood staring at Loor, unable to take his eyes off her. I finally had to give him a shoveto bring him back to reality.

“Don’t even think about it,” I said. “She’s not your type.”

“What type is she?” Spader asked.

“The type who has no interest in anything but kicking ass. If you think I’m kidding, watch.”

The warrior teams stood on opposite sides of the arena and began the final act of suiting up. Here was the odd part. Each of them had these things that looked like wooden stakes that stuck out to the sides from their elbows and their knees. The stakes were about six inches long. One team had red stakes, the other had green. When they put their helmets on I saw that they also had a wooden stake that stuck straight up like those World War I German helmets. In all, each warrior had five wooden stakes sticking out of them. I had no clue what those things were for but I have to tell you, they looked pretty goofy.

Each team stood in a line, shoulder to shoulder, facing their opponents across the arena. A Batu guy wearing a bright yellow robe walked to the center, where he planted a stick in the ground. On the end of the stick he hung what looked like a necklace made of large, golden teeth. He then silently walked back and entered the grandstand. From the safety of the stands, he turned back to the playing field, raised a golden horn to his lips, and let out one short note.