D. MacHale - The Merchant of Death

“A lot of things,” answered Uncle Press. “But the bottom line is, they’re talking about how to survive, together.”

A few hours ago the idea of the Milago and the Bedoowan living together in cooperation was a joke. They had centuries of baggage to deal with. That kind of thing doesn’t go away in an afternoon. But then I thought back to the Milago miner who was being cared for by the Bedoowan woman. They were still people, after all. And since the palace had been destroyed, they were pretty much in the same dire situation. Their best chance of survival was to help each other. It seemed like a lot to ask of mortal enemies, but I guess a cataclysmic event that nearly destroys every living thing in sight will make you rethink your priorities.

“They have a lot to offer each other,” added Uncle Press. “The Bedoowan have an advanced knowledge of engineering and chemistry that can help bring the Milago out of the stone age. The Milago are farmers and builders. Now they can finally get something back for their hard work.”

“What about the mines?” asked Alder.

“The mines are gone,” answered Uncle Press. “When the tak blew, the mines collapsed. It would take decades to get back to where they were. It’s not worth it. The Milago are out of the mining business…for good.”

“That means no more glaze,” I added.

“Yeah, no more glaze,” said Uncle Press. “The Bedoowan used glaze to trade with other tribes. Now they’ll have to be more self-sufficient.”

“How do the Novans fit into all this?” I asked.

“They can go back to their own tribe,” said Uncle Press. “Or they can stay and help rebuild. It’s their choice, but I think they’ll stay.”

“What if the Milago try to use tak again?” asked Alder. “That is what Saint Dane wanted, is it not?”

“Thereis no more tak,” I said with authority. “Rellin couldn’t get his hands on any even if he wanted to.”

“Rellin is a good man,” Uncle Press said sharply. “But he was blinded by his concern for his people. Now he can channel that energy into something more constructive. He’s going to be a great leader. But he’s going to have his hands full with Queen Kagan. She’s a piece of work.”

As if he knew we were talking about him, Rellin looked up to us. We made eye contact and Rellin smiled. That one little smile spoke volumes. He had been humbled, and though he looked tired, he also seemed to be at peace. There was a huge task in front of him, but he was the right man for the job.

“There are no guarantees,” said Uncle Press. “These people have to work through centuries of hatred and mistrust. But at least now they’ve got a shot at building a society that can benefit everyone. It’s not often that you get a second chance.”

As I looked around the ruined Milago village it was hard to comprehend that the best thing that could have happened to these people was the near-destruction of their world. But maybe Uncle Press was right. Maybe the only way they could change was to clean the slate and start over. They were certainly going to get that chance. I truly hoped that they’d make the most of it.

“I’m hungry!” announced Uncle Press. “Loor, could you and Alder head over to the hospital hut? They’ve set up an emergency supply station there.”

Alder and Loor quickly left us to search for some food. But I don’t think Uncle Press was really interested in eating. I think he wanted to talk to me alone.

“Let’s walk,” he said. The two of us left Queen Kagan and Rellin to their discussion and walked through the Milago village.

“How do you feel, Bobby?” he asked me.

Now there was a simple question that didn’t have a simple answer. How did I feel? I felt a million different ways. I felt tired. I felt sore from my escape with Loor and our plummet into the sea. I felt proud of myself for having kept my head on straight when things were crashing down around me.

I felt as if I learned a few things. I learned that it’s sometimes okay to think like a weenie, so long as you don’tact like one-at least not all the time. I learned that it’s okay to be wrong, as long as you can admit it and are willing to listen to those who may know better.

I also felt sad. Sad for Osa, Loor’s wonderful mother. She was someone I wish I had gotten to know better. And I felt sad for Loor, who lost her. I also felt sad for the others who lost their lives here as well. There was so much I had seen over these few days and not all of it was good. I saw the horrible way that people could treat each other. That may be the saddest thing of all. I saw greed and anger and murder and a total lack of concern for human life. It was the wicked side of the human soul that I saw here on Denduron and it saddened me to know that such a dark place existed.

How did I feel? I was frightened of Saint Dane. Not because I thought he would come after me or anything, but scared of what one man was capable of. He used his evil influence to manipulate people into doing horrible deeds. His power nearly brought about the destruction of an entire world. I feared that he might try again elsewhere and hoped that by stopping him here, his plan would go no further. But what I was mostly scared of, was being a Traveler. I didn’t want the responsibility. I mean, I’m just a kid. If there is something that truly scares me, it’s my own future.

How did I feel? I also felt a little glad. I was glad that the people of Denduron were going to get a second chance. I was proud of Uncle Press. I wasn’t entirely sure of what his deal was, but he cared enough to help bring about the resurrection of a society headed for ruin. I was also glad that I met the people I did. Alder had a good heart and I’ll always remember him as a friend. Rellin may have been misguided, but what he did he did for the good of his people and I respected that. Now he has the chance to help them in a more positive way. I’m glad that I met Osa. I don’t think I will ever forget her calm wisdom and I hope that some of it rubbed off on me. I was glad that I had good friends like you two, Mark and Courtney. You helped me when I needed it most and I will forever be in your debt.

But I think I was mostly glad that I met Loor. She was fiercely loyal and willing to put her life on the line for what she believed. She was brave and caring and smart and beautiful as all hell. But beyond that, there was something about Loor for which I couldn’t even begin to thank her. When this adventure fades in my memory, and it will, I will still be grateful to her for having pushed me to think outside of my own little world, and recognize my own strength.

So how did I feel? It was a complex question, but I had a simple answer.

“Uncle Press,” I said, “I feel like I want to go home.”

He was about to argue with me, but I cut him off.

“No,” I said. “When you asked me to come with you, you said there were people who needed our help. I did everything you asked me to do. Now I want to go home.”

He didn’t even try to argue. How could he? “Okay, Bobby,” he said warmly. “You’re right. I am more proud of you than I can begin to say. Tomorrow, I’ll take you home.”

Now,that’s what I wanted to hear! And that’s what brought me to the place where I am right now, writing my final journal. We’re spending the night in the hospital hut. Tomorrow we’re going to make the long trek back up the mountain to the flume. Unfortunately the gate that was in the mines is now buried under a million tons of rock. Uncle Press assures me that the climb won’t be hard. We will borrow some horses from the Bedoowan and take along a few whistles in case we run into any rogue quigs.

Alder and Loor are with me and they, too, are writing their journals. Alder filled me in on all that had happened during the battle, so that is how I know. I’m not going to send this journal to you through the ring. My plan is to hand it to you guys myself. I’m looking forward to seeing the expressions on your faces when I show up.