D. MacHale - The Soldiers of Halla

“There was something else,” Spader said. He looked shaken. “Grallion was in flames. People were scattering every which way. I think there was a crash. It may be sinking.”

“Like I said,” Uncle Press intoned soberly. “Things have changed.”

There was a silent moment. It was all sinking in. The truth. Our history. Our future. Our mission. It was a lot to understand, let alone accept. I’m sure there were doubts all around. I know I still had them. My mind searched for other possibilities. Other explanations. Other ways that we might be able to end this war and save Halla.

I came up empty.

The way to go was clear. It was time to get started.

I walked up to Spader and said, “This is finally it. You’re back in the game.”

Spader stood up straight. The fear was gone. In its place was that look of confidence I knew so well.

“Like I’ve been telling you, mate, I’m ready.” He glanced around at the other Travelers and called out, “Doesn’t hurt, by the by. It’s quite spiff actually. No worries. Speed and luck to us all!”

He looked directly to me. “Been a long time since I’ve said this to you, mate.”

“Said what?”

He smiled, winked, and exclaimed, “Hobey-ho, let’s go.” I’d missed Spader. “Hobey-ho.”

He looked to the others and added, “No time for second guesses. No room for hesitation. Nothing left to lose. If you’re asking me, there’s only one thing we can do.”

“And what’s that?” Gunny asked.

“Mates,” Spader replied, “let’s get dangerous.”

He took a step backward, and was gone. Above us, thunder rumbled. I didn’t look up. I didn’t want to see another light go out.

“Guess I should be on my way too,” Gunny said. “Haven’t been home in a while. Anything I should watch out for?”

“I wish I had an answer for you, Gunny,” Uncle Press said.

Gunny shrugged and looked at me. “Then I’ll just have to take a look for myself. Take care of yourself, shorty.” “See you soon,” I answered.

Gunny closed his eyes, took a step, and was gone. Thunder rumbled.

One by one the Travelers took off. Elli, Aja, Siry, and then Kasha. They all gave a quick farewell and left Solara to begin their final mission. Each time they left, the rumbling returned. It became so intense that the ground shook. That wasn’t good.

Alder called to me. “I do not want to leave you, Pendragon.”

“Nor do I,” Loor said. “Perhaps we should travel to our territories together.”

“We make a superior team,” Alder added.

“And you’ll be a team again,” Uncle Press said. “For now you’ll have to be with each other in spirit. You know that to be true now. None of you are ever alone.”

Alder nodded. He understood. “Then I will say goodbye and be careful.” He took a step forward and disappeared.

Loor folded her arms and walked right up to Uncle Press. “Where will you be?” she demanded to know.

“Third Earth. Patrick and I will return there to try and learn what Saint Dane is planning for-”

“No,” I interrupted.

Uncle Press gave me a surprised look. “Excuse me?”

“You should stay here for when the Travelers return with news of the exiles.”

“Bobby,” Uncle Press said patiently, “you heard what I said. Third Earth is still in play. This is it. It may all come down to this last territory. I have to go.”

“No, you don’t,” I said forcefully. “I have to go. You have to stay here.”

The two of us stared each other down. I don’t think Uncle Press knew how to react to my demand. He had everything figured out, except for me.

Patrick stepped between us. “Uh, I kind of like the idea that Press comes to Third Earth,” he offered meekly.

Uncle Press added, “Bobby, go to Second Earth. That’s your territory.”

“The exiles aren’t there,” I argued. “Why would they be? That’s where Naymeer started sending them into the flume.”

This gave Uncle Press pause.

“He’s right,” Patrick said thoughtfully. “The Ravinians shot those people through the flume in the early twenty-first century. Unless they somehow boomeranged back, they aren’t on Second Earth. If our mission is to locate the exiles, going to Second Earth would be a waste of time.”

“It’s not just about the exiles,” Uncle Press argued. “We have to track down Saint Dane on Third Earth.”

“Exactly,” I shot back. “And who better to do that? I’ve been chasing that creep around Halla for years. You may know his history, but I know how he thinks.”

Uncle Press looked to Loor. Loor nodded. She was on my side.

“Uncle Press, do you remember how you got me to go with you that night back in Stony Brook?”

He gave me a small smile, remembering. “Sure. I told you that some people needed our help.”

“And I went because I wanted to help them. I still do. Maybe now more than ever. As impossible as everything is that you told me, I believe it. All of it. It’s hard to get my head around the fact that I’m anything other than Bobby Pendragon from Second Earth, but maybe that’s okay, because Bobby Pendragon has unfinished business. I’m the lead Traveler, remember? Saint Dane told me more times than I can count that this battle is between him and me. Heck, you told me the same thing. I get it now. I understand. I went with you that night because I trusted you, Uncle Press. Now I’m asking you to do the same. Trust me. This battle is mine. Let me finish it. I think that’s the way it was meant to be.”

We all looked up to the sky, drawn by an encouraging sight. Several clouds that had been dark, sparked to life. Brilliant color blazed from the heavens.

“You did that, Pendragon,” Loor said in awe.

Uncle Press laughed and shook his head. “I guess we’ve come full circle. I had to drag you into the fight, and now I can’t drag you out.”

“We haven’t come full circle yet,” I cautioned. “Not until I stop Saint Dane.”

The sky crackled with energy.

Uncle Press smiled. “I was right about one thing. The spirit of Halla isn’t dead. It lives in those exiles, and it flows from you Travelers. From you, Bobby. You represent all that Halla is about. You aren’t perfect. Far from it. But you understand that to find the greater good, you have to look inside each individual. That’s why you are the lead Traveler. This is the way it was meant to be. I should have known that.”

“You did know. You just want to stop him as badly as I do. As we all do.”

“It’s true. You’re right. Go to Third Earth.”

I felt a strange shift. Not a physical one, but more to do with my own attitude. Uncle Press had been my mentor. He’d helped create the Travelers to battle Saint Dane. He’d chosen me to be the leader. But I never felt much like a leader, until that moment. I always felt Uncle Press was the light we should follow, even if he wasn’t physically around. He set the standard. He knew what the game was all about. Now we all knew. The spirits of Solara had called upon me to lead the Travelers in the battle against Saint Dane, and for the first time there was no question in my mind: I wanted the job. Uncle Press had given us what I hoped would prove to be the most important power of all. He’d given us knowledge. It was up to us to use it wisely. It was up to me to use it wisely.

Gulp.

Loor said, “There is a battle coming, Pendragon. I feel it. If the exiles are on Zadaa, I will find them and return here. I want to be by your side in the end. Not like on Ibara.”

“You weren’t on Ibara because I wanted you safe, in case you had to lead the Travelers into the future. The future is here. We’ll face it together.”

Loor and I hugged. It felt good, and a little strange, because for the first time I was her physical equal. I had grown. I was strong. I was a warrior. Together we were going to do some damage.