The Never War (20 page)

“I
'm disappointed in you, Pendragon,” Saint Dane said. “I've left so many clues for you like breadcrumbs in the forest, and it's still taken you all this time to uncover my little plot. Time is growing short. Are you losing interest?”

Saint Dane walked casually around the room with his hands clasped behind his back. Gunny and I kept our distance. It was like being trapped in a room with a wild animal. You never knew what this guy was going to do.

“I suppose the loss of your uncle's sage guidance has made it all the more difficult for you to keep up with me.”

Oh, man. This guy loved to hit where it hurt the most.

He then added, “I must admit, you surprised me on both Denduron and Cloral.”

“Why's that?” I asked.

“You were a force to be reckoned with. For that, I bow to you. And I must apologize for my own foolishness. It was a mistake to ask you to join me on my quest.”

“You got that right,” I said quickly. “No way I'll ever join you.”

Saint Dane stopped walking and smiled. He was enjoying this.

I wasn't.

“You misunderstand,” he said. “My only mistake was asking you too early. It gave you the impression that I was somehow…vulnerable.” He chuckled. “I assure you, I am not. That's why I chose to play out this latest game on the Earth territories.
Your
home territories. I wanted to demonstrate how easy it is for me to make you dance like a toy puppet.
My
toy puppet. In spite of what you may think due to our past encounters, I am in total control.”

“You aren't in control,” Gunny said with authority. “Not anymore.”

Saint Dane let out a deep, bellowing laugh. I hated that.

“Such an amusing old man,” Saint Dane chuckled.

“Old enough to know how to handle the likes of you,” Gunny shot back.

“Oooh,” Saint Dane bellowed in mock fear. “Forgive me if I don't feel threatened by an old man who doesn't possess the courage to fire a weapon.”

“You think you're bothering me,” Gunny said without missing a beat. “But you're not.”

“Stick around, Gunny,” Saint Dane snapped back at him. “By the time we're done, I promise, you will be very, very bothered.”

Saint Dane walked to the glass doors that led to the balcony. He threw them open, letting in a chilly wind. He stood with his back to us, looking out over the gray city.

“You see, Pendragon, my victory here on First Earth means much more than the toppling of three territories. What makes this all so wonderfully special is, you're the one who is doing it for me.”

That was a strange comment. I didn't like it, one bit.

“We know what's going on, Saint Dane,” I said. “We know what will happen if the
Hindenburg
doesn't crash. We went to Third Earth.”

Saint Dane spun back to us and exclaimed, “Well, of course you went to Third Earth! I was counting on it. I
wanted
you to know what would happen.”

That wasn't the reaction I expected. Gunny and I shot each other a quick look.

Saint Dane chuckled and said, “You still don't understand, do you? I've been leading you and your band of merry men around like trained dogs. Everything that's happened, every turn, every surprise, I've orchestrated. You knew to follow me to First Earth because of the bullets that killed your uncle. But to be sure, I first went to Veelox. That annoying Traveler girl thought she was being so clever by recording my arrival. I couldn't have been any clearer in telegraphing my ultimate destination if I had painted a sign on my back.”

I thought back to the hologram that Aja Killian showed us of Saint Dane arriving at the flume on Veelox, then making a show of calling out “First Earth!” before leaving again. Now that I think of it, it
was
pretty obvious.

“Once you were here, my only challenge was to make sure you discovered Winn Farrow's plot to destroy the
Hindenburg.
I knew that once you learned of his plan, you'd do everything possible to prevent that ship from blowing up. The idea of innocent lives being lost is just too horrible a concept for your righteous mind to accept.”

As Saint Dane spoke, I thought back to the events that led us to crossing paths with Winn Farrow.

“The gangsters in the subway?” I asked.

“I brought them to the flume to put you on the trail of
Winn Farrow,” he answered. “Killing Press was a bonus.”

I forced myself not to let that throw me.

“But they tried to kill us. Twice.”

“They were supposed to warn you to stay away from Winn Farrow, which I knew would send you running to him like rats to garbage. Killing you was their idea. Idiots. That's why I had to dispose of one of them. Or should I say, Harlow had to.”

“The gangster who fell from the hotel was pushed by Harlow? I mean, by you?” Gunny asked in surprise.

Saint Dane answered with a proud bow. Now we knew how Mr. Nasty Gangster died. It was Saint Dane.

“I couldn't let him kill you,” he said. “Not before my drama played out. You might say I was your guardian angel, Pendragon.”

“In the slaughterhouse,” I said, remembering. “You left the door open so we could escape.”

“Again, guilty,” he said, gloating.

He then took a step back, and transformed. His body grew watery and in a few seconds he became…Ludwig Zell.

“You were Zell, too?” I shouted in surprise.

“Not until recently,” Zell/Saint Dane said. “Once Max Rose learned of the plot to destroy the
Hindenburg,
I knew he would warn Herr Zell.”

Zell/Saint Dane walked over to a closet door.

“I couldn't have our Nazi friend sending the zeppelin back to Germany, so I had to intervene.”

Zell/Saint Dane opened the door and a body rolled out. It was Ludwig Zell. The
real
Ludwig Zell. He was pretty dead. No matter how many times I see dead guys, I can't get used to it.

“Poor Ludwig was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Max Rose thought he was giving his Nazi cohort the
bad news, but he was actually telling me.”

The truth was rushing at me way too fast. I was getting dizzy.

“But why?” I asked. “If Ludwig Zell warned Germany, the
Hindenburg
would be saved. That's what you want, isn't it? What difference would it make
how
it was saved?”

Zell/Saint Dane's attitude grew dark. He took a step toward me, and as he did, he transformed back into his evil-looking self. His horrid eyes locked on mine and he spoke through clenched teeth.

“Because this is about
you,
Pendragon!” he seethed. “I don't care what happens to that airship. I don't care what happens to these pathetic Earth territories. I don't care who wins their silly war or what they do with this useless world afterward.”

“You don't?” I said, totally confused.

“In a few short hours the course of your world will be changed forever. The Earth territories will fall into chaos. And who will be to blame? You! If you hadn't come here to stop me, history would have played out the way it was intended. But you couldn't stay away. You put yourself into the equation and because of that, three territories will collapse. Your
home
will collapse.”

I stared into Saint Dane's fierce eyes. I'm not sure which I was more afraid of: him or the horror to come. Everything he said was true. If Spader and I hadn't chased him to First Earth, the
Hindenburg
would be destined to crash, the way it was supposed to. But now, because of my meddling, there was a good chance the
Hindenburg
would be saved and the Earth territories doomed. This whole adventure was to prove how easily Saint Dane could manipulate us. Manipulate
me.
The amazing thing was, he was willing to destroy three territories to do it.

Saint Dane then said, “How does it feel, knowing this was all for you?”

The two of us held eye contact. In that one, horrible moment, things became all too clear. I knew where the struggle between Saint Dane and the Travelers was headed. Someday, somehow, somewhere, it was going to come down to Saint Dane…

And me. That's why he was doing his best to prove himself to me. What a sickening thought. The only thing that kept me from losing it was knowing that the ultimate day of reckoning wasn't today. No, this was far from over.

“I'll tell you how it makes me feel,” I answered with a very small voice. “I feel that as long as you're trying to impress me, I can beat you.”

There was a frozen moment.

“You think you understand me?” he said. “You think you have the strength to bring me down? Talk to me again in a few hours, after you've gone to Second Earth to see the scorched world where your friends used to live. Everything you've ever loved will no longer exist, Pendragon. Your home will be turned into a charred pit of death…and it will be your fault.”

“We still have time,” I said. “We can still make sure the
Hindenburg
crashes.”

An odd thing happened then. Saint Dane smiled. It wasn't like the sly, knowing smiles he usually threw at me. This was a genuine, wide, Cheshire-cat grin. The guy was actually happy. Being that it was Saint Dane, a sincere smile seemed all the more grotesque. It was totally creepy.

“Yes,” he said. “You still have time. Please, make the most of it.”

He backed away from me and walked over to the door. He turned the knob and gave a look of mock surprise. “Oh, no, it's
locked.” he announced. “Max Rose is so paranoid. He's made all of these doors self-locking. But you already knew that, didn't you?”

He then reached into his pocket and pulled out an old-fashioned brass key. He waved it at us, taunting us.

“But no fear,” he said. “I've got the key.” Saint Dane walked out on the balcony. “Do you think you can stop it, Pendragon?” he asked. “If I let you out of here, do you think you can stop Spader? And Rose? Could you let the
Hindenburg
crash?”

“We can try,” I said.

“Of course you can,” Saint Dane said as he backed toward the edge of the balcony. “And I want you to. I want you to come close. I want you to feel as if you've beaten me one more time, because that's when victory is the sweetest…when your opponent feels as if he actually has a chance to win, just before it all comes crashing down.”

He looked out over the city and said, “I think I'll return to Veelox and see what trouble I can stir up. That little girl Traveler is even more sure of herself than you, Pendragon. She's in for a big surprise.” He was at the edge of the balcony now.

“Good-bye, my friends. Enjoy your afternoon.” Saint Dane gave an exaggerated bow, and in one graceful move, jumped up and off the balcony!

Gunny and I gave each other a quick, unbelieving glance, then ran for the railing. Just as we were about to look over the side, a huge, black raven rose up from below. I swear, it was the biggest crow I had ever seen in my life. It was more like the size of an eagle. The bird rose as if riding on thermals. Then with one quick snap of its wings, it turned and sailed off. But the instant before it left, I saw that it was holding something
in its curved beak. It was only a quick flash, but I was certain I had seen it.

It was an old-fashioned brass key.

“You don't think—?” Gunny asked.

“I don't know,” I answered. “I don't care. We've got to get outta here.”

I ran back into the apartment and over to the door. I tried the knob to make sure it was locked. It was. I took a quick look around and saw another door. I ran to that one. Yeah, it was locked too. Those two doors were the only way out of this room.

“We'll have to break 'em down!” I announced.

I was all set to put my shoulder to the door and start bashing away, when Gunny warned, “Don't!”

“We have to!” I shouted.

“We'll never break those doors down,” Gunny said. “Max Rose had them reinforced with steel. This was his fortress. You couldn't knock them down with a battering ram.”

I quickly scanned the living room, looking for another way out…and saw the telephone. I grabbed it, only to find it was dead.

“He cut the phone lines,” I announced. I then looked at my watch. It was almost noon. “Gunny, we're running out of time.”

The
Hindenburg
was going to arrive in nine hours.

“T
his is your hotel!” I shouted. “How do we get out of here? There must be some kind of emergency way to let people know we're in here.”

Gunny looked around the fancy living room, then shook his head. “Not if the telephone's out.”

This was insane. The world was about to collapse and we were locked in a dumb hotel room.

“I got it!” I shouted. “We can start a fire. It'll set off the smoke detectors.”

Gunny gave me a strange look. “What's a smoke detector?”

Oh yeah. 1937. I looked around the room, then ran out on the balcony. Looking over the edge, I hoped to see Saint Dane's smashed body lying on the pavement below. It wasn't. I don't know why, but I wasn't surprised. I thought about that big raven. How weird was that? But I couldn't obsess about it. We had to get out of there.

I looked down to see if there was a ledge we could crawl out on. But the closest foothold was thirty floors down. On the sidewalk. I looked up, thinking we might be able to climb onto the roof. No go. It was out of reach. We really were trapped.

I have to admit, I even stood there for a second and tried to change myself into a raven. What the heck? If Saint Dane was a Traveler and he could do it, maybe I could too.

I couldn't. But just the fact that I tried showed how desperate I was.

I ran back into the room to see that Gunny had come up with a brilliant plan. A dangerous plan, but a brilliant one. He was pulling down the drapes that hung on either side of the balcony doors. With his pocketknife he cut a small tear on one end to get started, then ripped off a long strip of fabric. I knew instantly what he wanted to do. We were going to make a lifeline.

“You keep cutting strips,” he ordered. “I'll tie the knots.”

I set to work with his knife, tearing off long strips of fabric. Gunny expertly knotted the ends together.

“There's another balcony below us, about thirty feet down,” Gunny explained. He then pulled on the fabric, testing its strength. “I'll tie one end onto the railing up here, then lower myself down.”

This was a plan. As good as any. But as I cut the pieces of fabric, I knew there was only one thing wrong with it.

“This is gonna work, Gunny,” I said. “But you're too heavy. This won't hold you.”

“It'll have to,” Gunny said quickly. “Because I'm not sending you over the side.”

We continued working for a few minutes, until Gunny had fashioned a rope that looked plenty long enough. I tugged on it. It was strong, but still had a little play. Gunny was six foot four and probably weighed 220 pounds. I was five foot five and weighed half that much.

“Gunny, if you go, this'll tear,” I said.

Gunny tested the rope himself. I could tell by his
expression he didn't think it would hold his weight either.

“I'm light,” I added. “It'll hold me.”

I didn't wait for his response. I started tying one end around my chest and under my arms. I had to do it fast, not because I thought Gunny would stop me, but because I was afraid I'd chicken out if I thought too much about it. We were thirty floors up. My mind flashed on the horrible sight of Mr. Nasty Gangster falling through the air.

Note to self: Stop thinking.

“No, Pendragon, I can't let you—”

“We don't have a whole lot of choices,” I interrupted. “Either I go, or we hang out here until the housekeeping staff finds us tomorrow morning.”

Gunny looked at the floor. If there were any other way around this, he would have taken it. But he knew I was right.

“Let's do it,” I said, and carried the makeshift rope out on the balcony.

Gunny tied the loose end securely around the balcony railing. He knew what he was doing. Maybe it was his army training. I trusted that his knots would hold. It was the drape material I wasn't so sure about.

“You're in control,” he instructed. “Grab on to the rope near the railing, face the building, keep your feet against the wall and walk backwards. Let the rope move through your hands as you go down. I'll handle the slack.”

“I've done this,” I said. “It's sort of like rappelling.”

Uncle Press had taught me how to rock climb. It seemed like things kept popping up that Uncle Press had prepared me for. I always thought he took me on those great adventures because he was a fun uncle. I had no idea he was training me for life as a Traveler. Because we had gone on a rock-climbing trip when I was twelve, I knew how to rappel down the side
of a sheer rock face. The only difference here was, I wasn't secured by a solid climber's rope. I was trusting my life to a raggy piece of drapery. Gulp.

I sat up on the railing and swung my legs over. I made sure not to look down. I didn't need to see how far I would fall if things went south, so to speak. So while pretending I was only a few feet up in the air, I carefully turned around. I stood with my toes on the balcony, holding on to the rail, looking back at Gunny. It all seemed so natural, except that he was standing on the safe side of the railing and my butt was dangling over midtown Manhattan.

“Can of corn,” he said reassuringly. But his eyes gave him away. He was scared. Probably not as much as I was, though.

Gunny then threaded the slack rope through the railing and pulled my end tight. As I lowered myself down, he would play out my end of the rope, keeping pressure off the railing knot. It was like being double-secured. At least, that's what I told myself.

I tested the strength of the cloth rope, nodded, and stepped down off the balcony. With my feet firmly planted on the wall, I began to walk down backward.

I flashed on the old
Batman
TV show where those guys used to walk up the sides of buildings with their Bat ropes. That was idiotic. But not as idiotic as what I was doing now. I held the cloth rope tightly, and slowly slid my hands down it as I moved. The only tricky part came when I got to one of Gunny's knots. They were too big to slip through my clenched hands, so I had to let go with one hand at a time and cross over below it. That was scary.

I could hear the cloth rope straining under my weight. Obviously, this material wasn't made to hold so much weight, because I kept hearing tiny little tearing sounds. They were
faint, but they might as well have been exploding cherry bombs. If enough of those little tears got together, they'd make one big rip and, well, look out below.

Just to make me even more nervous, I looked up to see that Gunny didn't have enough drape left to hold on to. I wasn't double-secured anymore.

The whole trip only took a couple of minutes, though it felt like I was dangling from that building for a week. Finally I slid my right foot down another few inches and felt air. I had made it to the ceiling of the balcony below! I couldn't see the balcony because it was cut
in
to the building, but I knew it was there. My foot told me so. I was almost home.

That's when the bad news came.

No, the rope didn't break. It wasn't that bad. But it was close. I had another six feet to go before my feet would touch the railing of the balcony below, when I realized the worst: I had run out of rope. We made it too short! I dangled there, twenty-nine stories high over pavement, with the wind blowing and drops of rain beginning to fall…with nowhere to go.

“It's too short!” I called up to Gunny. “I can't go any lower.”

Gunny winced. “You sure?”

“Uh, yeah.” It didn't take a genius to figure this one out.

“You're going to have to climb back up,” Gunny called down.

This was a disaster. We blew it. How could we have made such a simple mistake? I had to climb back up and figure out a Plan B. But as soon as I reached my hand farther up the rope, I felt it tear again. It wasn't a little tear either. I must have jolted down an inch. The rope was going to go! If I tried to climb back up, I wouldn't make it very far. I was trapped. There was no place to go but down. Way down.

I then realized that I had one chance. It was horrifying to
think of, but it was the only way. Without stopping to second guess, I grabbed higher up on the rope with one hand and pulled up to take some of my weight off the rope. I then began to untie the knot that secured the rope around my chest.

“Pendragon, what are you doing?” Gunny shouted in horror.

“I need more rope,” I called back. “This'll give me another couple of feet.”

It was a totally scary maneuver. If I could untie the knot, I could use the extra length of rope that was wrapped around my chest to lower myself down a few more feet. Hopefully that would get me low enough to touch my feet to the railing and swing into the balcony.

Yeah, hopefully. It could also be suicide.

I had to pull myself up with one hand, and untie the knot with the other. To make things worse, if that's possible, the knot was now squeezed into a tiny, tight ball because my whole weight had been pulling on it.

And it started to rain.

The fabric was getting wet and slick. This was insane.

So with one hand I pulled myself up; with the other hand I worked on the knot. It was really hard. After a few minutes my arm started to scream with pain from the stress. I wasn't sure which was going to give out first, my arm or the rope. But I couldn't rest. If I put my weight back on the rope, the knot would pull tight and I'd have to start over.

This was quickly looking like a very bad idea.

After a few agonizing minutes, I managed to loosen up the knot. The next step was the scary one. My right arm was shot. I had to reach up and grab the rope with my left arm to give it a rest. I couldn't let my full weight back on the rope now. The
knot was too loose. If I let go, the only thing that would break my fall was the pavement.

With a couple of quick tugs, I pulled the knot entirely free, then grabbed the rope with both hands. I was now hanging by my hands. My really tired hands. I then slipped down a few inches at a time, letting the slick rope slide through my hands. The pain was incredible. I was so tired.

I checked to see how much of the rope was left and saw about a foot until the end. This was going to be close. Then, with only a few inches of rope left, I felt the railing with my toe. I was there!

But I wasn't safe yet. My arms were straight up over my head and I was still staring at building. I was so freakin' close, but still not low enough to swing in. I was going to have to put my full weight on the rail, let go of the rope, and duck under the ceiling. Sounds easy, right? It wasn't. It was totally awkward. Making it worse, the narrow rail was slick with rain.

I eased myself down until my feet were resting on the rail. Man, it felt great to be on something solid again. There wasn't much more than an inch of rope left, but that was okay. For the first time, I thought I was going to make it. I gingerly let go of the rope, putting all my weight on my feet. I then started to crouch down to duck under the ceiling and jump onto the balcony when…

My feet slipped.

It all went so fast that I'm not exactly sure what happened. Luckily, when my feet went off the rail, they slipped toward the balcony side, not toward air. That saved my life. But when I fell, I was so close to the rail that my head thumped against the hard, slick metal.

Our escape plan had worked, but we weren't any closer to getting out of there, because that head slam knocked me straight into dreamland.

 

I found myself lying on a beach. It was the Point in Stony Brook. Best beach in the world. At least it was the best beach in Stony Brook. Mark, how many times did we ride our bikes there to hang out for hours, watching the girls? I can still picture that pink bikini Courtney got last summer. Courtney, hot suit. Yeah, I was lying in the sand at the Point, listening to the waves, kicking back, hanging.

When I opened my eyes I expected to see you, Mark. Or Courtney, or any of the other kids from class, kicking it right along with me. Instead, I saw Dewey.

His eyes were as big as baseballs as he stared down at me.

“Pendragon!” he shouted, all nervous. “Are you alive?”

I wasn't sure. But dead people didn't get headaches, so I figured I was still among the living. I slowly sat up and looked around. All thoughts of the beach at Stony Brook and Courtney's pink bikini were long gone. Oh, well. Dewey's face pretty much ended that. Instead, I saw that I was lying on the floor of the ballroom on the twenty-ninth floor of the hotel. It was the same ballroom where we saved Max Rose's life. It was empty now, except for Dewey and me.

“I was gonna call a doctor, but Gunny told me not to,” Dewey whined. “You want me to get one?”

“No,” I said quickly. I probably needed one, but now wasn't the time. “I'm fine. Where's Gunny?”

“Downstairs. He told me to wait with you till he got back. Did you really climb down that drapery?”

It all came back to me—Saint Dane, being locked in the penthouse, Ludwig Zell, the trip down the rope, the fall. I
really wished I were on that beach in Stony Brook.

“One of the cooks found you lying here,” Dewey said. “But you were out cold. He saw the rope hanging down and found Gunny upstairs. Pendragon, there's a dead body up there! Who is that? How did you two get locked in the penthouse?”

“Long story,” I said. Then another thought hit me. “What time is it?”

Dewey looked at his watch and said, “Almost three o'clock.”

Yeow.
If I wasn't awake before, I was now. I had been out for hours! The
Hindenburg
was going to arrive in four hours and we were still in Manhattan!

“I gotta get outta here,” I said as I tried to get up. But the pain shot through my head like a bolt of lightning. It pushed me right back down to the floor.

“Don't move,” Dewey said. “I'll get you some water.” He ran off, leaving me alone.

This was bad. Very bad. Where was Gunny? I forced myself to sit up, then pulled myself into a chair. I had to get my act together and down to New Jersey, or everything would be lost. The
Hindenburg
was going to land at 7:25. Gunny said it was a four-hour drive down to Lakehurst. Even if we left at that very minute, we still wouldn't get down there until almost seven o'clock. That wouldn't leave much time to figure a way to stop Spader and Max Rose.