Pendragon - The Soldiers Of Halla Part 50

"There are millions throughout Halla who would dispute that," he muttered.

"For now. It won't last. It can't last."

I definitely had his attention. The fact was, I wasn't bluffing. I believed what I was saying. It took me a very long time to come to the truth, but now that I had it, I was confident. As I spoke, I stayed at the bottom of the stairs. I didn't want to get any closer to him than I had to. Just in case.

"From the beginning this has been a battle about destiny. Free will versus control. Domination versus tolerance. How many times have you told me that all you've done is give the people of Halla what they want? You said they were selfish and shortsighted and couldn't be trusted to guide their own future. So you stepped in to show them the way. You elevated the elite and crushed the weaka"all in the name of creating Utopia. Or, your idea of Utopia."

"And they followed me like lambs because that's what they are," he spat at me. "Stupid lambs. Everything they did, they did to themselves."

"But they didn't!" I shot back. "And you knew they wouldn't. You didn't hold true to your own vision."

He c.o.c.ked his head like a curious dog.

"Whether you can admit it or not, even to yourself, you didn't believe that the people of Halla were truly weak. You didn't trust in your own philosophy. Sure, it sounded good to say they were only getting what they wanted, but when it came down to it, you didn't think that would be enough for you to deplete their spirit, did you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he snarled.

"Sure you do. If you truly believed in your visiona"if you thought that all you needed to do was influence a little here, push a little there, play to people's worst instincts and all of Halla would crumble at your feeta"why did you need to create the dados?"

"I didn't," he snickered. "They were the creation of your friend. Of a being from Halla."

"Give me a break!" I shouted. "Getting Mark to create the dados was your plan from the start. Why else would you have done that if you didn't need help? I think you knew that, in spite of all you did to influence and tempt the people of Halla to make wrong choices, eventually they would bounce back, because that's what they've always done. People make mistakes all the time, big and small, but they're resilient. They survive. They cope. They correct their mistakes. But you didn't want them to bounce back this time, and for that you needed insurance. So you created an army to intimidate those who didn't follow you."

"You're grasping," he chuckled.

"Really? I've seen it all over Halla. Blok used the dados on Quillan to enforce their rule. Ibara was nearly destroyed by dados once, and now Veego has brought them back. The Ravinians rose to power on Second Earth and Eelong by using dados as intimidation. Dados are now on Cloral and Denduron. They are your power. You can't make clear choices when you're being threatened with violence. Who are you trying to kid? I've seen it all. Do you think for a second if you took the dados out of the equation that Ravinia would have risen to power so easily?"

"The dados are a tool, nothing more," he said, his eyes flickering away from me nervously.

"A tool for what?" I cried. "You know what I think? All this talk about guiding the people of Halla may have been how this began. Maybe you actually had n.o.ble intentions at one time, but they gave way to your own ego. Saying you wanted to guide destiny and save the people from themselves was just an excuse. You were a spirit from Solara, and what has your n.o.ble quest led to? A palace! A throne! You've surrounded yourself with the greatest artwork and architecture from this world. I'll bet you've got palaces like this on every territory, don't you?"

He didn't answer. He didn't have to.

"You're no longer satisfied with pulling strings from behind the scenes. No more disguises. No more role-playing. Look at you! You've put yourself out there front and center, wearing king's clothes and playing to the ma.s.ses. I think the truth is that you envy the people of Halla. You want to be their king. You want to be their G.o.d. But you know what? Even with the dados, it wasn't meant to be. The positive spirit of Solara is returning. It was inevitable. If it wasn't the exiles and the gars, it would have been someone else. The Batu from Zadaa or the poverty-stricken from Quillan. People somewhere would rise up and fight back, just as they have here. What you don't understand is that the true power of Halla rests with its people. The spirit of the people created Solara. Guess what? They're about to tOTcreate you."

Saint Dane leaped without warning. He sprang from the throne and launched himself at me. I didn't have time to react, that's how sudden the move was. He hit me dead-on, knocking me backward. I braced myself for what was sure to be a violent fall. When I hit the floor, I looked up to realize that I was no longer in the Taj Mahal. The sky had gone dark. Wind howled. Saint Dane had literally knocked me out of Third Earth to a place I had never seen before.

"You think you know me?" he shouted angrily. "I have eons on you!"

He hauled off and kicked me square in the ribs. I was right. He wasn't done. I rolled away and tried to get to my feet, but he tackled me from behind. I went cras.h.i.+ng down onto what looked like a rocky surface. Whatever it was, it was hard and it hurt. I barely had the chance to see where we were. It was so dark, though the sky was alive with lightning. I sensed huge, dark shapes all around us that could have been buildings or rocks. I couldn't tell. I had my hands full.

I whipped my elbow back and felt a satisfying crunch as I nailed Saint Dane in the nose. I landed a solid shot. That meant he wasn't using his power to transform himself. Was he able to do that anymore? Or was he choosing to fight me like a human? I pulled away from him. He sprang to his feet, blood spurting from what looked like a broken nose. I had no sympathy. I ran at him and tackled him dead-on. He grunted and fell back. When we hit the ground a We were back in the Taj Mahal. Saint Dane jumped to his feet and grabbed a silver weapon that was lying at the foot of his stairs. He waved it at me, swiping the air back and forth, laughing. Taunting.

"You're just pathetic," I snarled. "You still need help to fight your fights."

He screamed in anger, dropped the wand, and lunged at me. I danced out of the way, but he reared back and lifted a kick right to my chest. He drilled me good. I fell backa .

Into the dark, ominous territory. Lightning flashed, illuminating some of the shapes around us. I thought I saw a Lifelight pyramid and a templelike structure that could have come from Faar. In that one moment I realized where we were. This was Solara. Saint Dane's Solara. This was where he was gathering his dark spirit. From the looks of things, the place was in turmoil.

Saint Dane wasn't there, and then he was. He appeared out of nowhere and threw a punch that nailed me right in the head. I reeled back. He threw another punch to my gut. He was beating the c.r.a.p out of me. With each punch it seemed as if a lightning bolt flashed. Or maybe it was just that I was seeing stars a the kind you see when you're getting pummeled. Images jumped out at me from everywhere. I saw the stairs of the New York Public Library with the lions on either side; the ma.s.sive Hindenburg sailed by overhead; in the distance I saw the shadow of a giant pyramid from Zadaa. It was like seeing those images that floated in s.p.a.ce outside the flume as the Convergence drew nearer. Only this time, the images seemed real. With substance. Saint Dane had created a world that was a dark reflection of Halla. These were all twisted, nightmare visions of the originals.

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 a 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 flas.h.i.+ng 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 s.h.i.+rt, 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 a 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 s.h.i.+fted 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 goala"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 ma.s.s of people stood silently, looking at us. Or at the Taj Mahal. I couldn't tell. n.o.body 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 oura""

"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 pa.s.s. 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 pa.s.sageway the people had formed. n.o.body spoke. n.o.body made a sound. It was eerie. They stood silently, staring at Saint Dane as we pa.s.sed. 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 pa.s.sed 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 n.o.body.

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. n.o.body spoke. All eyes were on Saint Dane as he pa.s.sed.

I looked at Siry and shrugged, as if to ask, "What the h.e.l.l is going on?" "Wait," he replied.

I didn't know what to think. The dados were sure to attack at any moment. What were all the exiles doing inside like this? They should have been getting ready to defend the conclave. We were nearly at the front wall. Up ahead I saw the Travelers, waiting at the bottom of the stairs that led to the top of the wall. All of them. Gunny, Patrick, Aja, and Elli were there as well.

We walked Saint Dane right up to Uncle Press. The two stood there, toe to toe, glaring at one another. They were two old friends. Two enemies. Two warriors who had reached the end of the battle.

"I made a huge mistake," Uncle Press said.

"Only one?" Saint Dane replied.

Uncle Press nodded. "Yes, only one. I should have had more faith in the people of Halla, because in the end, the battle was won by the people. And that's the way it was meant to be."

Saint Dane frowned. He had no idea what Uncle Press meant. Neither did I, for that matter. Uncle Press motioned for us to take Saint Dane up the stairs. I was totally confused. What the heck were we doing? Siry and I pushed Saint Dane ahead of us. We were followed by Uncle Press and the rest of the Travelers. On top of the steps was a large platform. Twenty feet away was the edge of the conclave wall. It was low enough to be able to look over, but high enough so you wouldn't fall. Siry and I stopped Saint Dane on top and waited for the others to join us. We were all there. All eleven Travelers, along with Boon.

Last up were Mark and Courtney. Courtney came over to me and touched my cheek. I winced. It hurt.

"You look like h.e.l.l," Courtney said.

I shrugged.

She looked at Saint Dane, then back at me. "He looks worse." She smiled. "Awesome."

The whole way from the Taj Mahal, I wondered why Saint Dane hadn't tried to get away by turning into a bird or smoke or something. It was Uncle Press who had the answer to that. He walked over to the edge and looked out. Then turned back to Saint Dane.

"The spirit of Solara is well on the way to being restored," he began. "Thanks to what happened here today. Just as important, the dark spirit of Solara has diminished."

That had to be it. Saint Dane no longer had the power.

"The final victory here was not decided by the Travelers. Or by the exiles from Second Earth or the gars from Eelong. It was decided by the Ravinians."

For the first time since we'd left the Taj Mahal, I saw Saint Dane react. He stiffened.

"What do you mean?" he growled.

"This has been a prison for them. An attractive prison, but a prison. They knew they were being controlled, but they had no hope of freedom, until today. Until we arrived. Until your guards were eliminated. For the first time in a long time, these people understand that they have the freedom to choose their own destiny, not the one that you impose on them."

Saint Dane looked shaken.

"But a they live in luxury. They are the chosen."

"They were slaves to your vision, as much as anyone else in Halla. Today we brought them their freedom."

"I don't believe it," Saint Dane said. "I am their benefactor. I protect them. I reward them."

"All they wanted was the freedom to choose their own destiny, and today they did that," Uncle Press said.

"How?" Saint Dane shot back.

Uncle Press gestured for us to look over the edge. Saint Dane and I slowly walked forward. As the scene below revealed itself, I thought I was looking at a painting. I'm serious. That's how impossible the image was. Saint Dane gave a little gasp. He was just as surprised as I was.

Down on the ground, for as far as I could see, were dados. Thousands of them. Multiple thousands of them. It was the army that marched on Eelong. I saw red Ravinians, the green uniforms and golden helmets of the Quillan guards, thousands of Mark-looking dados, and just as many klees. They had made it back through the flume downtown and marched along the same route that the exiles and gars had taken to get to the conclave. That's where their journey ended.

These dados were no longer functioning. They were frozen. Deactivated. Dead. Whatever you want to call it. It was an impossible sea of dados that stood frozen. They filled the expanse between the conclave and the river, continued across the double-barge bridge, and stretched out on the far side of the river, back toward the city. There was no end to them.

Uncle Press said, "This was the work of your Ravinians. They entered the dado control center and deactivated every last one. They ended the war. You're looking at a sea of worthless junk."

Now I knew why there were so few Ravinians around during the attack. I had thought they were cowards, when in reality, they had seen their chance. The dados weren't magic. They were mechanical. They had to be controlled from somewhere, and the Ravinians knew where. In the end the positive spirit of Solara had triumphed over the darker motives of man. Saint Dane's chosen had chosen the right path.

Saint Dane pulled back from the wall, his eyes darting left and right. He looked panicked.

"I don't believe it," he cried. "It cannot be."

He ran across the platform to look down inside the conclave and the mult.i.tude that was inside, staring up at him.

"People of Ravinia!" he shouted. "It isn't too late! The choice is still yours! You are the elite! The perfect! The future of Halla!"

The people glared at him blankly, unmoved, silent.

"Take back what is rightfully yours! You have earned it by proving your own excellence. You don't want to live like animals! You have chosen to excel. To thrive. You aren't shackled by the common trials of those less deserving than you!"