I kept stumbling backward until my back hit a wall. I pushed off as Saint Dane threw another punch. I ducked under it and found myself back in the Taj Mahal. I looked around, desperate to find something to defend myself with. I felt a kick to my back and jerked forward.
I was back in the dark Solara. I saw darting images all around me. Circling. A giant snake slithered across the ground, larger than any snake I’d ever seen… except on
Zadaa. It was a quig. It wasn’t alone. A pack of snarling, yellow-eyed dogs darted behind a broken wall. A hollow growl shot my attention to the right, where a quig-bear from Denduron reared up on its hind legs, ready to pounce. I backed away and turned to see Saint Dane’s blue eyes flashing out from the dark, focused on me. He was coming again. I had to start fighting. He threw a punch. I ducked and nailed him in the chest.
We were back in the Taj Mahal. He shot a knee to my chest.
I saw the image of an oversize tang from Eelong dart behind a building in the dark of Solara. I fell and kicked out Saint Dane’s knees.
We were back in the Taj Mahal. He grabbed at my shirt, pulling me forward. We both tumbled onto a pile of brilliant blue glaze stones from Denduron. Their sharp edges cut into my ribs. Saint Dane wrapped his hands around my throat. I grabbed his wrists, desperate to break his grip. I was looking up at the dome of the Taj Mahal. Third Earth. He squeezed tighter. Lightning flashed. The dome became a crystal tunnel that flew to infinity. The hatred in his brilliant eyes was beyond anything I could imagine. I couldn’t breathe. The flume tunnel transformed into the open, gaping mouth of a sharp-toothed quig-shark. With a flash of lightning it turned into a laughing Dr. Zetlin from Veelox. I was seconds from blacking out. I wasn’t sure if any of this was really happening or if it was some horrifying dream. Lightning flashed again. Behind Saint Dane’s head I saw the most jarring image of all. It was my house, from Second Earth. It was a sight I hadn’t seen since I’d climbed on the back of Uncle Press’s motorcycle and left to become a Traveler. The house was right there. I felt as if I could touch it… until it exploded in flames. Rather than send me totally out of my mind, the image gave me one last burst of energy. I let go of Saint Dane’s wrists, brought my two hands up between his, and used every ounce of force I could muster to knock his hands away from my throat.
I quickly rolled, gasping for air. He was on me again. He jumped onto my back, driving both feet into me, forcing me to the ground. I shifted my weight quickly, throwing him off balance. As soon as I felt him move, I jumped up. My adrenaline was spiked. I knew that I needed to take control. I went after Saint Dane with a fury I didn’t know existed inside me. He may have had eons on me, but I knew how to fight. I threw punches as if I were drilling a speed bag. He blocked some, but I was relentless and kept hammering him with short, controlled bursts. No big roundhouses. I knew that every strike had to count. Each time I hit him, the world changed. Dark to light. Reality to insanity. Solid to chaos. I sensed it more than felt it, because I didn’t take my eyes off him. This was it. I had to end it. I channeled the years of hatred I had built up into my fists. I was out of control, but totally focused. I pummeled the guy. The worlds kept changing, but I barely noticed. Putrid creatures flew around me, daring me to look. Pulling at my sanity. I wasn’t even tempted to look. My focus was unshakable. I had only one goal-to take Saint Dane apart.
He grew tired. He stopped blocking punches, then stopped throwing his own. That didn’t stop me. I kept up the barrage until he tumbled backward, fell onto the floor, and didn’t move.
He was done, and so was I.
I was out of breath and in pain. My fists were numb. I stood over him and tried to focus. We were in the Taj Mahal.
That was good. I never wanted to set foot in that other place ever again. Saint Dane lay at my feet. A broken, old man. But it wasn’t the end. His body had been crushed, but his spirit still lived.
The last battle had yet to be fought.
I reached down, grabbed his robe, and lifted him up. He wasn’t unconscious, but he was close. I grabbed the back of his neck and pushed him toward the door. He stumbled forward. The fight was out of him. His spirit was depleted. 1 felt that. He didn’t try to change shape. Or escape. We walked to the front of the Taj Mahal. I only had to give him a couple of shoves to keep him moving. My only goal was to get him to the front of the conclave before the dado army arrived. I wanted us both there as witnesses. When we reached the front door, I shoved him right into it. He hit it with his head. I didn’t care. He backed off and pushed the door open.
We stepped out into bright sunlight. I had to squint at first, before my eyes adjusted. When they did, I stopped short. We weren’t alone. Standing in front of the Taj Mahal were people. Thousands of people.
I had found the Ravinians.
Chapter 42
The mass of people stood silently, looking at us. Or at the Taj Mahal. I couldn’t tell. Nobody said a word. It was eerie. Saint Dane and I stood on the top step, looking down at them.
Saint Dane laughed. He was bleeding, he was beaten, he could barely breathe, but he laughed. He gave me a sideways look and said, “Now we’ll see which spirit is in control of Halla.”
I said, “The spirit doesn’t control Halla, the people of Halla control the spirit.”
The smile dropped from his face.
A shout came from the crowd, “What have you done? What have you brought down upon us?”
Saint Dane raised his hands and said, “I am protecting you. Even now our army is returning to wipe away the vermin that has dared to invade our-”
“No!” someone shouted. “They have no quarrel with us. They have only destroyed the guards. They seek refuge.”
“Refuge? This is Ravinia! We don’t provide refuge!”
“And why not?” someone shouted.
The crowd started shouting. Saint Dane didn’t know how to react. They were no longer on his side, and he didn’t have any Ravinian dado guards to keep them in line. He held up his hands, trying to quiet them, but that only made them shout louder. It was awesome.
Somebody stepped out of the crowd and walked up the steps. It was Siry. He climbed directly toward Saint Dane, stopping a few stairs below us. He turned to the crowd and raised his hand. The crowd became quiet. Siry looked at me and asked, “You okay?”
“I am now,” I said.
“You have to see something,” he said.
Siry turned to the crowd and shouted out, “Please, let us pass. He must see.”
The crowd obeyed. At the base of the stairs, the people parted, forming an alleyway for us to walk through. I couldn’t believe it.
“What is it?” I asked, dumbfounded.
Siry smiled. “Nah, you should see it.” He looked at Saint Dane and snapped, “You too.”
We both grabbed one of Saint Dane’s arms and pulled him down the stairs. We hit the bottom and walked through the passageway the people had formed. Nobody spoke. Nobody made a sound. It was eerie. They stood silently, staring at Saint Dane as we passed. I saw the hatred in their eyes.
I thought back to the moment when Mark was supposed to have been executed. As much as Saint Dane had whipped the crowd into a lynch mob, there were many who weren’t swept up in the emotion. They had questions and doubts. It gave me hope that some small seed of humanity still existed in the hearts of the Ravinians. What we saw as we passed by them outside the Taj Mahal confirmed it.
I wondered if Saint Dane realized it. If he did, he didn’t show it. He held his head up proudly, staring ahead, making eye contact with nobody.
As we walked, I realized that the crowd wasn’t made up of just Ravinians. The farther we walked, the more I saw others seeded into the group. We went from clean-looking Ravinians to scruffy-looking exiles and gars. I even recognized some of the rebels. The people were jammed together, shoulder to shoulder, all the way to the front wall of the conclave. Nobody spoke. All eyes were on Saint Dane as he passed.