D. MacHale - The Lost City of Faar

We stood there like dopes, not sure of what to say. Finally Kalaloo took the lead.

“We have news,” he announced to the group. “Not all of it is good. These brave voyagers are continuing the work of our good friend Spader, who died so tragically.”

He walked behind Spader and put a hand on his shoulder. “In fact,” he continued, “this is the son of Spader. We must welcome them all.”

The twelve members of the council applauded politely, but they didn’t have a whole lot of enthusiasm. It was all so stiff and formal. I really wanted to start screaming, “Wake up, people! Saint Dane is coming to kick your teeth in! Hel-lo! You gotta get ready!” But that wouldn’t have been cool.

Uncle Press then brought the council up to speed. He told them of the tragic mistake the Clorans made by creating a fertilizer that turned the underwater crops into deadly poison. He told them how thrilled we were to hear that the good people of Faar had the means to undo the harm and make the crops safe again. I have to admit, he was good. He strode around the circle like a lawyer presenting his case. Nobody could take their eyes off him.

Uncle Press then gave them the bad news. He told them that a raider had discovered the location of Faar, and was probably headed this way to attack them at this very moment.

This caused a big hubbub. Finally, the council was showing some life.

“How did this happen?” one woman demanded. “How could a raider learn of Faar?”

Uncle Press didn’t back away from the truth.

“I’m afraid he learned of Faar’s location at the same time we did,” he answered. “The elder Spader had a map to guide us here, and the raider pilot saw it.”

Spader dropped his head in shame, but I gave him a shove. He had nothing to feel bad about. He didn’t have any choice but to show the map to Saint Dane.

“Trusting the elder Spader was a mistake,” shouted one man angrily. “We should never have let him leave!”

This caused another uproar. The crowd was getting hostile. It was true, we were the ones who were bringing the boogeyman to their doorstep. I couldn’t blame them for being angry, but I was beginning to like them better when they sat there like boring, bald statues.

“Please!” shouted Uncle Press, trying to restore order. “There is a larger issue here!”

“Larger than the safety of Faar?” yelled a councilwoman.

“Yes!”

The crowd grumbled, but they wanted to hear what Uncle Press had to say.

“The man who is coming to attack Faar is the same man who poisoned the crops,” Uncle Press said. “He wants nothing less than the destruction of Cloral. Spader’s father realized that. If he didn’t come here, you wouldn’t have learned about the disaster until it was too late. Now there’s a chance to stop it.”

“But he brought the shark to our very door!” a man yelled angrily.

“The shark was already at your door!” Uncle Press shot back. “Did you think the people of Faar would be immune? You eat from the underwater farms, don’t you? How many of you would already be dead if you hadn’t been warned?”

No one said anything because Uncle Press was right. If Spader’s father hadn’t gone to Faar and sounded the alarm, there would be many more dead than the people of Magorran.

I saw the council members exchange worried glances. Their perfect world was looking a little bit shaky right about now.

“I beg you,” said Uncle Press with passion. “You must send out the Faarians to begin the process of saving the farms as soon as possible. That’s what this man is coming for. He wants to prevent you from saving Cloral.”

“And who will save Faar?” one woman demanded to know. “We are not warriors. Our sole defense has been secrecy. We have no weapons to fight with, no shields to protect us.”

Good question. Nobody had a good answer.

Finally someone spoke up. “Maybe there is a way,” Spader said to the group. “Right now floating above us is an aquaneer from Grallion. I can swim up in a jiff and tell her the score. It wouldn’t take long for her to get back to Grallion, gather a force of aquaneers, and return to stop the raiders. It would be a real natty-do, but I trust my aquaneers against a band of raiders any day!”

“That will never do,” said Kalaloo. “You would have to reveal the existence and location of Faar. Think of what we would be giving up in exchange for their protection.”

“Think of what you’d be giving up if you don’t get any protection,” Uncle Press countered.

It was a tough choice. Nobody was quick to offer an opinion. The decision that would be made in the next few moments, no matter what it was, would change the future of Faar and of Cloral forever.

That’s when an elderly man who had been quiet up until now, stood up. This must have been out of the ordinary, because every one of the council members seemed to snap to attention. It was clear that this guy had their respect. I got the feeling that he didn’t speak much, but when he did, the others listened. In other words, he was theman. He spoke slowly and with a soft rasp.

“We have been preparing for this day since the waters closed over our city,” he began. “No one, not even the builders of the dome, expected us to hide until the end of time. Cloral is a changed world. Mostly, for the better. I believe it is time for us to rejoin it.”

This caused some quiet murmuring among the council members. Finally a woman stood and said, “Are you suggesting we transpire?”

I’m not sure what “transpire” meant, but the woman said it with such horror that I’m guessing it was a pretty dramatic thing.

“No,” the elderly man answered. “Nothing that drastic. I am suggesting we move slowly and reintroduce ourselves to our brothers above.”

“Can I remind you?” interrupted Uncle Press. “We have to move quickly to save the underwater farms. If we don’t you may not have any brothers left up there to reintroduce yourselves to.”

The council members shared troubled looks. They were about to make the most important decision in the history of this city since they discovered the waters were going to rise up and swallow them. It was pretty intense.

I finally got the guts up to say something.

“You’ve been helping the Clorans forever,” I said, trying not to let my voice shake. “Maybe it’s time you let them helpyou.”

The elderly man locked eyes with me. He may have been old and frail, but those fierce eyes told me he was a force that shouldn’t be taken lightly.

“What is your name?” he asked me.

“Pendragon.”

He seemed to be sizing me up, and it was giving me the creeps. I suddenly wished I had kept my mouth shut. But then he gave me a small smile.

“Much has been said before this council today, all of it well-intentioned. But the words of the youngest ring the clearest.”

He then turned to the council and continued with conviction. “It is time to accept help from those we have helped for so long. All in agreement with sending young Spader to return with his aquaneers, say ‘ho.’”

The responses didn’t come all at once. Nobody wanted to go first. But eventually each council member responded with a “ho,” and with every response, they became louder and more assured.

“All against, say ‘no.’”

There wasn’t a single “no” to be heard. The elderly man then turned to us and said, “We have set a new course. Young Spader, please go now. We must act swiftly.”

Spader looked to Uncle Press and me. His eyes were alive with excitement. He was born for this moment.

“Will Yenza do this?” Uncle Press asked him quietly.

“You know that answer,” Spader said with absolute conviction.