D. MacHale - The Soldiers of Halla

“What’s a gas tank?” Siry asked.

I stepped away from the group to gaze out at what Solara had become. Or at least, what this tiny section of Solara had become. I tried to focus on the blurred edges of this small oasis, imagining what was beyond the veil. What had happened to Solara was positive. No doubt. It was due to the victory on Eelong. I didn’t doubt that, either. An idea had been tickling the edges of my brain for a while. At first it seemed like fantasy, but as each new event unfolded, the possibility of it becoming a reality grew stronger. I had been afraid to share it with the others, because the time never seemed right. As we stood together in that rejuvenated spot of Solara, after all I had seen, I realized that my fantasy idea might just be the only chance we had at making this small victory permanent.

“We’ve taken a huge step forward,” Uncle Press declared. “We may not have reclaimed Solara, but we have slowed the slide, thanks to the exiles. They experienced an incredible victory. You see the result. This is what Solara can be. Positive energy is flowing once again. Not just from the exiles, but from the gars as well. This is the triumph of positive spirit.”

“Sounds good,” Gunny said cautiously. “How can we build on that?”

“We focus all our energy on protecting the exiles” was Uncle Press’s answer. “They are the seeds of a new Halla. If they flourish, Solara will once again grow the way it was meant to.” He gestured around him and added, “This is the proof. Nevva Winter gave us a gift. We have to nurture it.”

“No,” I called out.

Everyone snapped a look to me. The surprise was obvious on all their faces, most of all Uncle Press’s. “What’s the problem, Bobby?” Uncle Press asked. “It won’t add up,” I answered.

“What won’t?” Aja asked, always skeptical of anything I had to offer.

“We had a victory. The gars and the exiles had a victory. Great. But it’s not over. Did Elli tell you about the army of dados on Third Earth?”

“She did,” Uncle Press replied. He was totally focused on me. He wasn’t skeptical. He didn’t argue. He wanted to hear what I was thinking.

“This isn’t done yet,” I declared. “Third Earth is still in play, and Saint Dane has an army that’s ready and waiting to finish off the exiles on Eelong.”

Aja jumped in again. “Is he really capable of creating a flume to send that army to Black Water?”

All eyes went right to Uncle Press. He didn’t look happy.

“He could” was his simple, direct answer.

“He may not even need to!” I added.

It was my turn to get everybody’s attention.

“The gars sent the klees off with their tails between their legs. Yay, big victory. But I guarantee you, the klees aren’t done. Not as long as Ravinia controls them. They’ll regroup and try again. And again. Protecting Black Water and the exiles will get more difficult, even if Saint Dane doesn’t unleash his army of dados. If we think all we have to do to save Halla is circle the wagons around Black Water and hope that the exiles grow into a new civilization, we’re kidding ourselves. Even if we’re able to protect Black Water, that’s only one territory. What about all the others that are controlled by Ravinia? Maybe keeping the exiles alive will help Solara sputter along for a while, but the numbers aren’t on our side. How long can we hold out? Years? Decades? A century? We’re talking about the future of all civilization. All mankind. Forever. A century is a blip of time when we’re talking about eternity. If we’re going to stop Saint Dane for good, we’re going to have to do more than pat ourselves on the back over a single victory.”

I looked around to see that everyone’s expression of hope and optimism was long gone. I hated being the buzz killer, but I was speaking the truth, and they knew it.

“I think there’s only one way to end this, and that’s to take the battle to him,” I declared. “If we don’t, the only question will be how long we can hold out, because eventually he’ll wear us down and win it all.”

Nobody argued.

The first one to speak was Uncle Press. “You say this like you have a plan,” he said with caution.

I smiled. “I always have a plan,” I said with confidence. “Well, usually I do.”

I could feel the anticipation grow within the group of friends. I had just laid out a pretty nasty scenario. After getting hit with a cold splash of reality, I think they were desperate to hear that there was still hope. I didn’t jump into it quickly. I knew it would take some convincing. Heck, I wasn’t entirely sure it was the right thing to do myself. I took a few moments to look around at Solara. The meadows. The colorful vapors in the sky. The stars. The feeling of life and spirit that was all around us.

“Look what happened here when the gars and the exiles defeated the klees,” I began. “What was the word you used, Uncle Press? ‘Rejuvenation.’ The positive spirit and energy of those people on Eelong proved that Uncle Press is right. They are the future. Their spirit was so strong, it brought new life to Solara.”

Aja scoffed, “Didn’t you just say that it’s only temporary?”

“It is,” I agreed. “If all we do now is focus on keeping the exiles alive for a while, it will only prolong the inevitable.”

“You’re contradicting yourself, Pendragon,” Aja said firmly.

“But I’m not,” I argued. “I saw what those exiles are capable of. They were willing to sacrifice it all to protect Black Water. Question is, would they be willing to do it again to save Halla?”

I saw plenty of confused looks being thrown around. The only person who stayed focused on me was Uncle Press. I didn’t want to disappoint him.

“Keep going,” he said thoughtfully.

“Just before she died, Nevva told me that Saint Dane split Solara in two. I think where we are, here, is the Solara that has always been. But Saint Dane has somehow splintered it, or made a wall or something, to create a Solara that is being fed by the negative spirit that he’s created throughout Halla. It’s like he’s draining the positive spirit and weakening us, while building the dark spirit of his own Solara. That’s the source of his power, and it’s growing all the time. It’s why he threw Halla into chaos, to feed the spirit of his own Solara.”

“I’ve sensed that,” Uncle Press agreed. “Spirits are not only diminishing, they are fleeing. The spirit of Solara has been about all mankind, the good and the bad. The positive and the negative.”

Loor offered, “Does that mean Saint Dane has been collecting the negative, aggressive spirits to create his own base of power?”

Uncle Press thought, and nodded. “It makes sense.”

Gunny whistled in awe. “So if the spirit of the exiles is the only thing keeping the proper Solara alive, the rest of Halla is pretty much feeding Saint Dane’s side.”

“Exactly!” I declared. “But Nevva said he won’t have full control until the light from the proper Solara is snuffed. Forget the little blip that just happened because of the Black Water victory. Solara is dangerously close to extinction.”

Alder said, “Perhaps there is some way to diminish the power of this dark Solara.”

“Now we’re talking!” I shouted. “It’s what Nevva said. To defeat him we have to weaken him. I think there’s only one way of doing that. We have to force him into using his own power to defend himself. Let’s snuff his light before he snuffs ours.”

Siry said, “Uh, how?”

“By attacking him in the Conclave of Ravinia,” I said flat out.

I don’t know if I actually heard gasps, or imagined it because I was expecting them. I definitely got a lot of shocked, openmouthed looks.