But where were the Travelers?
I stepped over a fallen dado… and the robot grabbed my leg. He was down, but he wasn’t dead. I was so surprised that I didn’t defend myself. The dado tossed me down. I hit the grass and spun back, expecting an attack. The dado still had his silver weapon. He raised it to fire at me… and got clocked in the head by a wooden stave. The dado fell to its knee and got clocked again. It may have been a robot, but it couldn’t stand up to the vicious onslaught. It dropped the weapon, reached for it, grabbed the wrong end… and instantly went dead.
“I prefer doing things the old way,” Loor said, spinning her stave triumphantly.
“You didn’t kill it, it was the weapon,” I shot back, kidding.
“It was as good as dead already,” she argued. “Yeah, whatever. Thank you.”
Loor gave me a small smile, which for her was huge. “Will I ever have to stop protecting you, Pendragon?” “Man, I hope so.” “Bobby!” Uncle Press called.
He ran up, out of breath. Behind him were Alder, Spader, Kasha, and Siry. Boon joined us as well. We all stood there looking at one another. Spader began to laugh. Alder followed. Then Siry and Uncle Press and even Kasha and Loor. It was a moment of pure exhilaration. We had done it. We had gotten a toehold in the Conclave of Ravinia. There was nothing funny going on; it was more a laugh of pure joy.
“Where’s Aron?” I asked.
Uncle Press stopped laughing. The others did as well. The mood instantly turned dark.
“He almost made it,” Uncle Press answered. “He was near the door. But he took a hit from a dado that we thought was finished.”
It was a shocking, hollow feeling. Aron was the leader of the gars, and had been since my first visit to Black Water. He was the visionary who helped civilize the gars and earn them respect. It was hard to believe that he was gone. His spirit had surely became part of Solara, and Solara was all the better for it.
“Hey!” came a familiar voice.
Mark and Courtney came running up to join us.
“Can you believe this?” I said. “We did it.”
“Not yet, we didn’t,” Mark said, dead serious.
His tone didn’t fit the moment of victory. I looked over his shoulder to see hundreds upon hundreds of our people streaming into the conclave. I didn’t get it. From what I could see, we had most definitely done it.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Mark held up his walkie-talkie. “They found it.”
We all knew what he meant.
“When?” I asked.
Courtney answered, “The flume downtown came to life five minutes ago. Dados are pouring out in droves. They’re headed this way.”
We stood there in stunned silence. Our celebration was a short one. Though it was something we expected, knowing it was actually happening was still. a shock.
Mark said, “I’d say we have two hours at best before we get swarmed.”
Uncle Press looked around and said, “We know what to do. Bring all the radio cannons inside. Call back the choppers. Find every weapon and get it into the hands of a gar or a Yank.”
The Travelers scattered to carry out the commands. I was left with Mark and Courtney and Uncle Press.
“Two hours,” Uncle Press said, looking at me.
“We can do it,” Mark said. “We will do it.”
Uncle Press didn’t respond to Mark. He was focused on me.
“Two hours,” he repeated.
His grave look said it all. I nodded in understanding. He stood straight, looked me square in the eye, and said, “Go get him.”
Chapter 41
He was there.
1 knew it. I felt it. I knew where to find him. For the first time I understood how he always seemed to know where I was and what I was doing. I could sense him. I don’t know how else to say it.
Our success in taking over the Conclave of Ravinia had far greater meaning than the conquering of a fortress. We were gaining strength. The spirit of Solara was returning. It came from the selfless efforts of a group of people who, in storming the walls of Ravinia, had seized control of their own destiny. It’s hard to describe this feeling, but it came from the core of my being. I felt stronger. I felt hope. I didn’t think for a second that the battle was over, but as I ran through the conclave, for the first time in a very long while, I thought that there was a chance we might actually turn the tide. We were no longer fighting a losing battle.
As I sprinted through the parklike grounds of the conclave, I saw very few Ravinians. Those who made an appearance looked terrified. Their perfect world was threatened, so they ran and hid inside their opulent homes and peered out of their windows in fear. I realized that my concern that they might step up to defend themselves was unfounded. They didn’t have it in them. It made my confidence grow. This was the true legacy of Ravinia. They were cowards who hid behind the power of their mentor. Saint Dane.
This wouldn’t be over until Saint Dane’s influence ended. For that, his spirit had to end. I was racing toward a showdown. I had suspected it would come to this for a long time. I feared it. I tried to ignore it. I hoped there would be some other way.
I was kidding myself.
This day had to come. It was inevitable. From the very beginning, this conflict was about a battle between two forces. Two ways of thinking. Two spirits. Saint Dane… and me.
It was time to end it.
I ran to the center of the conclave and to the spot where I knew he would be. The Taj Mahal. When I got my first view of the majestic building, I noticed a change. There were no Ravinian guards. They must all have been sent to the front wall to defend the conclave. Which meant they were history. I sprinted along the fountains, through the manicured grounds and up the steps, near where I had seen Mark executed. Or his dado double executed. Either way, it wasn’t a happy memory, and it only got me more fired up for what was to come. I strode boldly inside. There was nothing secretive about my visit. I wanted him to know I was there. I went straight to the center of the building, where I knew the red-carpeted stairs would lead up to the platform that held his golden throne. The throne of a king who was losing his kingdom.
There he sat. Alone. As much as I knew I would find him there, I was surprised when I actually saw him. He had changed. Gone was the long, dark hair and youthful appearance. Saint Dane now looked as he did the very first day I met him. His long hair had gone gray. His face had aged. He still wore the rich, red clothing of a Ravinian king, but he looked small inside the elaborate robe. He sat slumped in the chair, looking like an old man. Looking beaten. Not that I needed more proof, but it confirmed that the spirit of Solara was rising. And Saint Dane’s was waning.
“You shouldn’t be hanging around inside on such a nice day,” I called to him. “You’re missing a hell of a show.”
He didn’t react. I wasn’t sure if he even heard me. His eyes stared straight ahead, vacant. It didn’t matter. He could have looked as if he were dead, and I still wouldn’t have let my guard down. If Saint Dane was anything, he was unpredictable. Like they say about wild animals, they’re the most dangerous when they feel trapped and threatened.
“We know the dado army is coming back,” I said, taunting. “We’re ready for them. That must have taken a heck of a lot of spirit out of you to be moving so many of them around Halla like that. Is that why you look like hell? Is your dark power almost gone? Hmmm?”
His eyes moved a fraction to focus on me. In spite of the fact that he looked old and tired, his blue-white eyes still burned. He wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.
“Is that what Nevva told you?” he said with a low growl. “The way to defeat me was to deplete the spirit we worked so hard to build?”
“More or less,” I answered casually. “Pretty good advice, don’t you think?”