D. MacHale - The Soldiers of Halla

Nevva looked to me with confusion.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“You know what I mean,” I said bluntly. “Can he be destroyed?”

Nevva faltered. She knew something. My instincts were right. My pulse started to race.

“Tell us,” I pushed. “Make this right. Tell us how to beat Saint Dane.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but instead she let out a gasp and fell to her knees.

Behind her, Saint Dane stood with a silver weapon.

“You simply will not give up, will you?” he said, sounding more than a little annoyed.

Nevva fell to the ground, shaking. Was she dead? Was that possible? Had Saint Dane killed her? She wasn’t turned to ash, but the weapon had definitely hurt her.

Elli screamed in agony and dove for her daughter.

I, on the other hand, dove for Saint Dane. I wanted to hurt him. I raised my weapon, leaped over Nevva, and attacked. Saint Dane lifted his own wand to defend himself, but I don’t think he was ready for the emotion-charged barrage I threw at him. I hammered at the guy, using the wand like an ax. Saint Dane backed off, doing all he could to ward off my blows. He didn’t even try to fight back. He couldn’t. I didn’t give him the chance. Anger took control of me. There was nothing cagey about my attack. The lessons of Mooraj didn’t come into play. I channeled all my pent-up emotion into using that silver wand to hammer the guy. I wasn’t even sure if the weapon had been activated. It didn’t matter. I would have bludgeoned him. In fact, I would have preferred it.

He parried my blows, but he wasn’t casual about it. He knew I was serious. I was going to hurt him.

“All you’ve managed to do,” he said in between the ringing sound of metal hitting metal, “is to kill another Traveler.”

His words charged me up to slash even harder. He was growing tired. His physical self wasn’t as strong as mine. For a moment I actually thought I was going to hurt him. I should have known better. Saint Dane threw his wand to the side. I was so surprised by that move, I stopped my attack. The demon stood there with his arms out, as if giving himself up to me.

“Nevva’s death is on your conscience, Pendragon,” he said. “It was all for nothing.”

I wound up to finish the guy, and he disappeared. Just like that. He took a step back and was gone. I was thrown for a second, but shouldn’t have been. He was a Traveler, after all. Why would he stand there and let me pummel him? I stood there alone, breathing hard. My pent-up emotion had no outlet. I let out a scream and flung the wand as far as I could. It clattered to the ground somewhere deep within the Taj Mahal. I screamed again. I couldn’t keep the frustration and anger inside.

“Pendragon!” Elli called.

I forced myself to get back some kind of control and ran to her. She was on her knees, holding Nevva’s head in her lap. Elli was crying. Her brief moment of bliss was already forgotten. The agony had returned.

Nevva wasn’t dead. Yet. She stared up with glazed, unseeing eyes.

“It’s okay,” I said. “You can’t die.”

I put my hand on her chest, ready to will her back to health. She grabbed my wrist and held it tight. “No,” she said. “There’s nothing you can do.” “I can! I can heal you!”

“No,” she insisted. “Don’t waste your spirit. It isn’t possible. He won’t allow it.”

I didn’t know what she meant by that, but I took her word for it. “Go to Solara,” I said. “You’ll be safe there.”

“I can’t, Pendragon,” she whispered. “I’m controlled by a different spirit now.”

“But your spirit can go to Solara. Right?”

“Not anymore” was her answer.

Elli wiped her tears while stroking her daughter’s cheek soothingly.

“It’s not only my body that’s dying. My spirit is ending. There will be no existence for me beyond this one.”

“You don’t know that,” Elli said desperately.

Nevva looked up to her mother and focused. I saw the affection she had for Elli. That they had for each other.

She took her mother’s hand. “I’m sorry, Mother,” she said. “None of this was your doing.”

Elli looked at me with pleading eyes. “Pendragon, do something.”

“How can I save you, Nevva?” I asked.

“You can’t. Saint Dane controls the dark power of Solara. He will not allow it to save me. Not anymore.”

Nevva started to flicker. Her physical being was fading out.

“What’s happening?” Elli asked in a panic.

“I’m ending, Mother,” Nevva answered with a weak voice. “My spirit is ending.”

Elli wept. Her daughter was about to disappear forever. Literally.

Nevva focused on me. “Pendragon, you must do to him what he has done to Solara. His power will not be fully realized until the light of Solara is destroyed. Make him use his power. It is the only way to weaken him and end his spirit.”

“I… I don’t understand,” I said. Nevva was giving me the answers, but I didn’t know what they meant.

“Saint Dane has split Solara. He draws his power from the dark spirit he has created. Make him use it… and save the exiles. He fears their spirit more than he fears even you, Pendragon.”

Nevva’s image winked. She wouldn’t be there much longer. “Stay with us,” Elli begged.

“Where are the exiles, Nevva? They must be here on Third Earth, right? Where are they?”

Nevva looked at me with glazed eyes. “They aren’t on Third Earth,” she whispered.

I was rocked. Everything I had seen up to that point led me to believe this was where the final battle would take place.

“But they must be!” I blurted out. “Saint Dane can’t attack another territory without the flumes!”

Nevva struggled to stay focused. She didn’t have much time left. “You saw what happened on Second Earth. You were there. He has the power. Make him use it again. Weaken him.”

My mind was flying in a million directions. What did I see on Second Earth? Was she talking about Yankee Stadium? The Bronx Massacre? Naymeer created a flume that drew in all those victims. It suddenly came clear to me.

“He’s going to create another flume,” I stated with finality, realizing the truth as I said the words.

Nevva looked up at her mother. She was in pain. Her imaged winked out, then came back… faintly.

“I love you, Mother,” she said. “Tell Father I’ve missed him more than he could know.”

“He already knows, Nevva. We both love you and always will.”

Nevva smiled. In spite of the pain, and her imminent death, she was at peace. But I wasn’t.

“Where are they, Nevva?” I begged.

Nevva looked to me and said two words. Two words that I had been hunting for. Two words that could hold the salvation of Halla, or lead to its final destruction.

She looked me right in the eye, grabbed my hand, and whispered, “Black Water.”

A moment later Nevva Winter was gone. She disappeared. Her spirit had ended along with her physical self. There was nothing left for Elli to hold, or to grieve over.

Her hands were still outstretched, holding nothing. Elli was strong. She barely whimpered. I reached out and held her.

“I’m sorry” was all I managed to say.

We sat that way for several minutes. Elli didn’t cry, but she accepted whatever small comfort I could offer. I was ready to stay that way for as long as she needed.

It wasn’t long. The troubled woman pulled away and looked at me with weary eyes. Through the tears, came a smile. “She came back to me.”

“Yes, she did,” I said, trying not to cry myself.

Elli wiped her tears, straightened up, and in a voice that was far stronger than I could have imagined, gave me an order. “Don’t let her death be for nothing.”