D. MacHale - The Soldiers of Halla

Aja huffed and said, “There isn’t much left to stand on.”

Uncle Press gave us one of those sly smiles that I knew so well. He knew something. He hadn’t shared it all.

“Saint Dane isn’t infallible,” he said. “You’ve all seen that. In spite of the high opinion he has of himself, he isn’t a god. He’s made plenty of his own mistakes.”

“And yet he’s still won,” Elli pointed out.

“Not yet,” Uncle Press replied quickly. “There is one territory left. It may be hanging by a thread, but it hasn’t been lost.”

“Third Earth,” Patrick said with reverence.

“Saint Dane made a mistake,” Uncle Press said, enjoying himself. “A huge one. It’s up to us to make sure that it was a fatal one.”

“So we’re not done yet?” I asked.

Uncle Press gave me a wink and said, “Do you really think I’d have brought you all together like this if I thought we were done?”

We were all back together.

We were a little wiser and maybe somewhat overwhelmed by all that had been revealed to us. But at least we were together. It was good to know I wasn’t the only one who had to deal with getting knocked over the head with a big fat reality stick.

Uncle Press addressed us all. “In spite of all you’ve heard, Solara is not dead. At least, the Solara that has always been is not dead. You all sense the presence of the spirit here, don’t you?”

I looked around to see my friends nodding.

“Solara is at its lowest point. The toll of this battle has been huge. The spirit is dying. You’ve met your loved ones here-the spirits who became Travelers to help guide your way on your home territories. Giving them a physical presence so they could speak with you was an added drain. The only reason we brought them forward now was to help ease your transition. They’re still here, but we can’t continue to maintain their physical selves.”

I thought back to how my family flickered and disappeared.

It seemed like a light bulb running out of power. Turned out it was exactly that. The same sort of thing must have happened after I left Second Earth the first time. Every piece of evidence that my family existed had vanished. It must have all been created by the spirit of Solara, and then removed when it was no longer necessary. How weird is that?

Uncle Press continued, “The worlds of Halla have fallen. Each territory is in chaos. The darker nature of mankind has triumphed, just as Saint Dane wanted.”

Gunny stepped forward and asked, “So then, why is Solara still hanging on?”

Patrick asked, “Because there’s still hope for Third Earth?”

“There is still hope for Third Earth, but I don’t believe that’s the reason. Third Earth has become a war zone. That’s where we all gathered before coming here.”

That made sense. The zoo, the shattered buildings, the tilted Empire State Building. Third Earth was a mess, worse than when Patrick was last there.

Elli asked, “Do you believe that saving Third Earth will stop Saint Dane?”

“I don’t know. I’d be lying if I told you otherwise. Truth is, it’s all we’ve got left. But I’ll tell you something I do believe. I don’t think that saving Third Earth is as important as how we save it,” Uncle Press answered.

We all exchanged confused glances. We had no idea what he was talking about, which was pretty much par for the course even at this late date.

“Make no mistake, we are on our last legs,” Uncle Press continued. “The spirits of Solara no longer have the ability to move through the physical worlds. They are all here now. Or at least, what’s left of them. There is no way of knowing what is happening throughout Halla, except through your eyes.”

“Us?” Siry said in surprise. “How can we know what is happening out there? We’re trapped here too. And the flumes are destroyed.”

“You’ve all heard how the creation of the Travelers was our only hope to stop Saint Dane. That is still true now. More than ever. The spirits of Solara have gathered back here in order to channel their remaining energy to you. To us. I’ll be with you until the end.”

“Well, there’s one spot of good news!” Spader declared, trying to be positive.

“That’s how we will be able to maintain a physical presence and make our final stand. The remaining positive spiritual energy that exists in Solara is being channeled to us. The Travelers.”

Aja looked glum. “Nothing like a little pressure.”

Alder said, “But if there are no flumes, we will be unable to travel.”

“You don’t need the flumes anymore,” Uncle Press declared.

That made everybody start talking at once. I was right there with them. What the heck did that mean?

“Whoa, whoa!” Uncle Press called out, trying to get everybody to settle.

I said, “I think you better explain that.”

“Saint Dane created the flumes to connect the territories. He wanted technology and physical items, and ultimately people, to travel freely and blend all the worlds. To converge. He was able to travel between territories whenever he wanted and from wherever he happened to be. He stepped from one world into the sea of time and space, and right into the next world, instantly, effortlessly. You all experienced it yourselves when you arrived here from Third Earth.”

That was exactly what happened. My family and I took two steps-the first on Third Earth, the second here in mysterious lavaland. But the idea that we could have been doing that all along made me a little, oh, what’s the word? Angry. Yeah. Angry is a good word. None of the other Travelers looked too happy either.

Loor was the only one who had the discipline to ask the question calmly. “Was there a reason that we were not told of this ability?” she asked.

Uncle Press answered with equal calm. “Because you didn’t have it before.”

“Why not?” was my obvious follow-up. “It would have made things a little simpler, don’t you think?”

“For one, we wanted to maintain the illusion that you were natural to your own territory. By hitchhiking through Saint Dane’s flumes, you didn’t need to know of your true origins.”

“Not a good enough answer,” I said, testy.

“But the main reason is that the flumes were there. They worked. Changing your physical selves to step in and out of the sea of time and space would have been too great of a drain on Solara. The same would have happened if you changed your physical beings the way Saint Dane did. Each time he became a different person, he took more of the spirit of Solara along with him. If you all did the same thing, we wouldn’t be talking to each other right now. That’s how draining it is for us to manipulate matter.”

Spader jumped forward. “You mean we have the same spiff powers as Saint Dane?”

“No,” I countered. “No way. I tried to change myself, more than once. Unless there was some secret switch or something, it didn’t work.”

“Because we didn’t allow it,” Uncle Press replied. “We wanted you to behave as normal beings, not spirits.”

“But Nevva Winter could change,” I said.

“Because Saint Dane allowed it. As I said, he is slowly controlling the power of Solara. We didn’t allow you to use that ability or to travel without the flumes because it would have caused untold damage to Solara.”

“And now?” Gunny asked.

“Now there are no flumes,” Uncle Press said. “And you all have the same abilities as Saint Dane. The spirits of Solara will see to that. But we must be cautious with how we use them. Our resources are very near the end. It’s risky, but hey, things have gotten a little desperate.”

I could guess what everyone was thinking. It was an amazing feeling to know we could travel between territories without having to worry about finding a gate to the flumes. But it was also pretty scary. How badly would we be hurting Solara each time we used that ability? However things played out, we wouldn’t be able to rely on flashing between worlds at will. Or turning into ravens. Whatever the final battle would be, it would be like all the others. In real time. With our physical selves. Win or lose.