The Lost City of Faar (42 page)

“Listen, Bobby—,” he said weakly.

“No! You are not going to tell me this is the way it's supposed to be! Not like this. Not you!”

Spader crawled over to us and listened. He was in even more emotional agony than before. I knew what he was going through. Uncle Press was going to die because he saved Spader's life, the same as Osa died saving mine.

“You've asked me a lot of questions, Bobby,” Uncle Press whispered. “But there's one you never asked.”

“What?” I said, tears streaming down my cheeks.

“I've told you there is only one Traveler from each territory,” he said. “You never asked why there were two from Second Earth.”

He was right. I never did. I don't know why, but the thought never crossed my mind. It was so obvious, but I never thought about it. Or maybe I didn't want to.

“Are you going to tell me?”

“The answer is, there
can't
be two Travelers from Second Earth. I knew my time was short. That's why I brought you from home. It was your time. It was Loor's time, and Spader's, too. You are the next Travelers.”

I couldn't think straight. I didn't care about Traveler rules or Halla or Saint Dane or anything else, only that my uncle was lying here, dying.

“I'll tell you something else,” he said. “You are the last. All that has gone before is prelude. The fight is yours. You will take it to the end. You are the last Travelers.”

He was growing weaker by the second. He looked to Spader and said, “Spader, I know this is hard to believe, but you will see your father again. Your mother, too.”

He then slipped his hand down my arm and held my hand. “And I promise you, Bobby Pendragon, you will see
your family again. And when you do, I'll be there. Remember that and don't be sad . . . because this is the way it was meant to be.”

He then closed his eyes, and he was gone.

T
he ceremony was everything it should have been.

The Council Circle was loaded with people. The marble bleachers held the entire Council of Faar. Seated next to them was a group of aquaneers in full dress uniform. Among them was Quinnick, the pilot from Grallion, and Wu Yenza, the chief aquaneer.

The rest of the bleachers held an assortment of others. Some were from Faar. Others were from the Agronomy Society and had made the trip from Panger City. Seated with them was Ty Manoo, the agronomer from Grallion. There were also dignitaries from other habitats. Word was spreading quickly about the reemergence of the city of Faar. It had only been two days since the city rose, but the haulers had already been lifted from their hangar and sent across the territory to rescue the farms.

Cloral had reached its turning point—and survived.

Of course, no one seated in that circle had any clue about the bigger picture. They had no idea that Cloral was only one territory of many that Saint Dane was trying to spin into chaos. To them, victory was having ducked a huge ecological
disaster. Nothing more, nothing less. And there was an added bonus in that this near-catastrophe had triggered the discovery of their own ancient roots. The raising of the city of Faar was an amazing event. Imagine if Atlantis had suddenly appeared back at home. How cool would that be? Well, this colossal discovery was all the people of Cloral could focus on now. They didn't know about the larger evil that had almost destroyed their world.

But I did. So did Spader.

I had mixed feelings about Spader after what happened to Uncle Press. I knew it wasn't his fault. If he thought his actions would have put Uncle Press in danger, he would have backed off. I'm sure of that. Still, I couldn't stop thinking that if Spader had listened to us, Uncle Press would still be alive. Spader
had
to learn to control his emotions. He and I were very much in the same place right now. I still feel guilty because Osa died while protecting me. And now I knew what it was like to lose a loved one to death, and Saint Dane. But if we were going to work together as Travelers, we had to move past this. As I stood on the council platform waiting for the ceremony to begin I wasn't sure if that was possible. I would always remember how Spader ignored our warnings and because of it, Uncle Press was dead.

I hadn't seen Spader since we got back to Faar. Maybe that was a good thing. It gave us both a chance to chill out and get our heads together. But I was beginning to worry. He should be here for this ceremony. He was the Traveler from Cloral now. I really hoped that he hadn't bailed.

I stood alone on the edge of the platform, outside of the Council Circle. The marble ceiling had been repaired and hoisted back onto the pillars right away. The round symbol of Faar was rejoined and placed back in its prominent spot. The
rest of Faar was still pretty much a mess, but I think restoring the Council Circle was important because it represented the heart of Faar. From here, decisions about the future of Cloral would be made.

The sun was setting on the ocean. Sunsets are always beautiful and this one was no different. There were a few long clouds on the horizon. The warm sun lit them up like blazing arrows shooting across the water. The amber light washed over the marble buildings of Faar, making the city look like a painting. As I looked down on Faar's mountain I saw that there were hundreds of people standing on the paths, watching the beautiful sunset. For them it must have been extraordinary. Faar had not seen sunsets in hundreds of years.

Kalaloo had explained to me how the transpire had been planned for generations. The scientists of Faar had devised an ingenious mechanism that when triggered would pump air into vast chambers below the city. The pressure built up in the chambers and lifted the city high enough to allow the sea to rush in and force the city even higher. The chain reaction continued until the surrounding seabed collapsed into the chambers, creating a base. It was like a controlled earthquake, where all the force was funneled upward.

It may have been physics that brought Faar to the surface, but to me it was pure magic. Seeing the people of Faar enjoying this sunset made it seem even more so. In spite of how horrible I felt right now, something good had come out of this adventure.

“Pendragon?”

I turned to see Spader standing there. He was dressed in his full aquaneer uniform, the same as on the day he thought he was going to meet his father. What a relief. Though it was going to be tricky working through what happened, at least I
knew he understood that his place was here.

“I've thought a lot about what to say to you,” he said quietly. “But there's nothing I can think of to tell you how sorry I am for what happened.”

I said, “How about ‘I'm sorry for what happened'?”

He dropped his head.

“I wish I could change what I did.”

I just nodded and said, “If I told you it was cool and to not worry about it, I'd be lying. But the thing is, now I know how you felt when your father died. Saint Dane killed Uncle Press, just like he killed your father. I want him stopped now more than ever. But there's something you gotta understand. Getting revenge on him isn't the answer. If you understand that, we're cool. If not, then I'm going to have to go forward alone.”

“He understands, Pendragon,” said a familiar voice.

Walking up to us was Loor. I was stunned. Seeing her here, on Faar, was totally out of context. She was wearing a light green Cloral suit that really showed off her athletic body. She looked more beautiful than ever. I wanted to throw my arms around her and give her a hug, but that wasn't Loor's style. She stepped up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. That's about as warm as Loor got.

“Spader came for me. He was confused, and afraid to speak with you,” she said.

I could understand that. If he needed help, the last person he could go to was someone who blamed him for getting his uncle killed.

Loor continued, “We have all lost the ones we loved most. Press always said how this is the way it was meant to be. I believe him. Spader was no more responsible for Press's death than you were for the death of my mother. When she died, I hated you, Pendragon. But I came to see how this is the course
we were destined to follow. It will often be a tragic one, but there is a greater purpose. I understand that. I believe Spader does too.”

I looked at Spader, who finally looked back to me, waiting for a reaction. I could see how genuinely pained he was.

“I can't tell you that I don't want revenge on Saint Dane,” he said. “But I believe the only way to do that is to complete our mission. I'm with you, Pendragon.”

We shared eye contact for a moment. I could tell that he was aching for me to say something to make him feel better.

I didn't say anything at first. That's because there was something I had to do. I had thought long and hard about it, and after all that had happened, I wasn't sure if I could go through with it. But now, with Loor's help, I realized that it was the absolute right thing to do. So I reached into my pocket and pulled something out that I had been holding on to for weeks.

“You're a Traveler now,” I said to Spader. “This was your father's. Now it belongs to you.”

It was the ring that Uncle Press had taken from Spader's father. The Traveler ring. Uncle Press told me I would know the right time to give it to Spader. This was it. I reached out and dropped it into Spader's outstretched hand.

Spader looked at the large ring and I could tell he was holding back tears.

I then smiled and said, “You realize it's going to be a tumtigger.”

Spader smiled. “Hobey-ho,” he said.

The two of us hugged. Our friendship was going to survive this, as it should. I looked at Loor, who winked at me. I always thought that I'd have to call on her for help with some kind of nasty battle. When you needed a warrior to bail your butt out of the fire, call Loor. As it turned out, the first time
she came to my rescue, it was to help me work through an emotional crisis. Funny thing, this Traveler business.

Kalaloo then walked up to us and said softly, “We're ready to begin.”

I saw that now standing on the edge of the platform were two small groups of people. One group was made up of six Faarians, the other six aquaneers. Each group carried a long, yellow container on their shoulders. These were the bodies of Abador, and my Uncle Press. At home you'd call them coffins, but they didn't look like anything I'd seen on Second Earth. They were more like oval-shaped tubes made out of yellow plastic. The coffin held up by the Faarians had the words “
Ti Abador
” written in black letters on one end. The coffin carried by the aquaneers had my uncle's name “
Press Tilton
.” (Did I ever tell you that Uncle Press's last name was Tilton?)

The two groups of pallbearers stood with the coffins up on their shoulders. They each walked slowly toward the Council Circle. Abador's coffin was first, followed by Kalaloo. Then came Uncle Press's, followed by Spader, Loor, and me. As we walked slowly into the circle everyone stood up. Soft music was playing too. It wasn't all sad like the church music you hear at funerals. No, this was nicer than that. It kind of reminded me of the mellow New Age music I wrote about before, but somehow it felt right to me now.

The pallbearers placed the two coffins next to each other on pedestals that were in the center of the circle. Kalaloo stood by them while the three of us walked to seats in the marble bleachers. When we had gotten to our places, Kalaloo raised his hands. The music stopped and everyone sat.

“Today is a sad and glorious day,” Kalaloo began, addressing the group. “Here, amid the splendor of a Faar that
has been reborn, we must also face the realities of death.”

He went on to give a very nice speech about Abador. He spoke about how he had dedicated his life to serving Faar and its people. He was often the voice of reason when others had trouble finding the truth. And finally, it was his vision and bravery that saved Faar from destruction. He finished by saying that not only was Faar reborn, but for generations to come, people would remember Abador as the father of the new Cloral.

When he was finished, he turned and raised his hand for me to join him. This was going to be tough. I had to say a few words about Uncle Press. I had never done anything like this before. It wasn't that I didn't know what to say. Far from it. The problem was, I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to get through it without crying. Uncle Press deserved better than that.

I walked up next to Uncle Press's coffin as Kalaloo stepped back. I stood there and looked around at the group. Only a few of them even knew Uncle Press. Most had simply heard about how he helped save Faar and Cloral. To them he was a faceless hero. But he was more than that and I wanted them to understand.

“People have called my uncle brave,” I began. “And he was. But that can be said of many people. Many of you here today have shown incredible bravery. But that's not what made Press Tilton special. The thing is, Uncle Press cared. Where most people can't see past their own personal problems, Uncle Press always looked beyond. He helped many people in times of trouble in ways you will never know. Even I don't know most, and that's the way he wanted it. He didn't do it for glory or for riches or to be honored at a wonderful ceremony like this. He did it because he cared. It's what
helped save Cloral, and Faar, and why he's not with us today. But you know, that's not really true. He
is
with us today. I know he's with me. And I know that as long as I keep his vision alive, he will never truly be gone. As I say good-bye to him, there's one thing I hope for above all else. I hope that when the time comes that I see him again, he'll be half as proud of me as I am of him today.”

That was it. I couldn't say anymore. I touched Uncle Press's coffin and walked back to my place. As I walked everyone stood up. It was time to pay their last respects. I stood between Loor and Spader, trying to be brave. Loor actually reached over and held my hand.