The Rivers of Zadaa (15 page)

“Quiet,” Loor said, cradling his head. “We will care for you.”

“I know the truth,” Bokka wheezed. “I came to tell you. They followed me, to stop me.”

This was horrible. Bokka was dying. With his last few breaths he was trying to tell us something that was important enough to be murdered for. With one weak hand, he motioned to his boot.

“What?” I asked.

“Look,” he said.

The Tiggen guards didn't wear open sandals like the rest of the Rokador. They wore soft, sand-colored leather boots that reached nearly to their knees. I saw that tucked into his right boot, barely poking out the top, was a folded piece of parchment paper. I pulled it out and unfolded it. It was a map.

“Go to Kidik,” Bokka rasped. He was fading fast. “The truth lies beyond the city, out in the center. It is…it is…a nightmare.”

“What is the truth?” Loor asked. I could see that her eyes were tearing up. Her best friend was about to die.

“Find the man,” Bokka wheezed. “The stranger.” He coughed, gasping for breath.

“What man, Bokka?” I asked. “What is the truth?”

Bokka tried to focus on me, but he was slipping fast. “He says he is from your tribe, Pendragon.”

“What?” I shouted in surprise.

“Beyond the city. There is a vehicle waiting to take you there. Find him.”

“Who is he, Bokka?”

Bokka coughed. It was painful to watch. I found myself taking a deep breath, as if it would help him breathe. It didn't. He winced, but forced himself to focus. He looked me right in the eye and said, “His name is…Saint Dane.”

They were the last two words he would ever speak.

ZADAA

T
he next few hours passed in a blur. We first brought Bokka's body into the barracks and covered him. Loor was amazingly stoic. I couldn't imagine what was going through her head. Her best friend from birth had been killed by his own people. The only way I could relate would be to imagine if something happened to either of you two guys, Mark and Courtney. It was beyond horrible. Bokka died trying to help Loor. To help us. I regretted ever being jealous of the guy. He was a hero. Still, Loor couldn't allow herself time to mourn. We needed to take care of the living, and Alder needed help. Fast. We knew where to get it.

We awkwardly carried the injured Bedoowan knight to the entrance to the underground, and the small train that would take us back to the crossroads. It wasn't easy. Alder was big and heavy. None of us complained. As we traveled along in that miniature train, I hoped that we wouldn't run into the Tiggen assassins. If they thought we were following them, well, let's just say I'm really glad we didn't see them.

We made it through the crossroads without problems, and continued the journey back to Xhaxhu. Luckily we found a cart that we were able to load Alder into so we could push him along. Without that cart it would have taken us twice as long to get back, and every second counted. We had to be careful, though. We didn't want to take the arrow out. Loor said it would only make him bleed more.

Throughout the trip, none of us said anything about Bokka's last words. There would be time for that later. Now it was all about Alder. As we moved quickly through the tunnels, all I could do was stare at him and hope that we wouldn't be losing another Traveler. The thought was too painful to even imagine. Loor had her hand over Alder's heart, as if trying to transmit some kind of cosmic energy into his body to keep him alive. It was sweet, and gut-wrenching at the same time.

Our goal was to get back to the hospital where I had been treated, and hope that the doctor who cared for me would be willing to help. By the time we arrived in Xhaxhu it was night, so we were able to use the darkness for cover as we made our way through the streets to the hospital pyramid. We found our way in and brought Alder to a quiet room, away from suspicious eyes, while Saangi went to find the doctor who had treated me. It didn't take her long. She found him and immediately brought him to the secluded room. When he saw us, his shoulders fell. He did not want the responsibility of caring for another Rokador.

“What is your name?” I asked the doctor.

“Nazsha,” the man answered.

I spoke slowly and sincerely, in the hope that whatever abilities of persuasion I had as a Traveler would kick in. If we ever needed them, it was now.

“When you treated me, Nazsha,” I said, “you said you thought I could help the Batu. You were right. That's what I'm trying to do. And so is this injured man.”

Alder was still unconscious. His white Rokador tunic was drenched in his own blood. He was alive, but I didn't know for how much longer.

The doctor gave him a quick look and said, “That is the arrow of a Rokador.”

“It is,” I said.

“And you now wear the armor of a Ghee,” he said, confused.

“You were right before,” I said. “We aren't Rokador. Without your help, he'll die.”

The doctor looked at me. I saw the questions in his eyes. If he didn't believe we were there to help the Batu, at least I hoped he was like the doctors on Second Earth who were supposed to help the sick and injured, no matter what.

“This could bring me trouble,” he said.

“Maybe,” I replied. “But isn't all of Xhaxhu already in serious trouble?”

The doctor looked back to Alder. I could tell he was debating with himself about what to do.

“Bring him,” Nazsha finally ordered.

I'd like to take the credit for convincing the guy to help, but I think it was more because he was the kind of guy who always helped those in need. Loor and I each took one of Alder's arms and carried the big knight through the sandstone corridors to a forgotten area deep within the bowels of the hospital. There, safely away from curious eyes, the doctor went to work. He cut off Alder's blood-soaked clothing and pulled out the arrow, which I couldn't watch. The squishy, sucking sound was bad enough. Alder looked pale, and not just Rokador-pale. It was from the blood loss. Doctor Nazsha cleaned him up and packed the wound with something that looked like leaves dipped in honey. He then went to work with needle and thread to close it up. I guess I don't have to point out that I didn't watch that, either. After he finished sewing, he dressed the wound with some salve and forced Alder to drink a variety of potions, which wasn't easy since Alder was pretty out of it.

“I will continue to administer the medication,” the doctor said. “I do not believe the arrow damaged anything vital, but the blood loss may have been too much. The rest is up to your friend. If he lives through the night, he may survive.”

“Can we stay here?” I asked.

“If you wish,” the doctor asked. “But I cannot protect you if a Ghee discovers you. I am not a brave man. I will help care for your friend, but I am not a warrior.”

“You're wrong,” I said. “You're a very brave man. Thank you.”

The doctor left, with the promise to return frequently.

“I must return to Mooraj,” Loor said. “Bokka must be taken care of.”

I wanted to argue. It was dangerous to go back through the underground. But if Loor wanted to go, I wasn't about to stop her. She left without saying another word. Saangi stayed with me. I think Loor wanted her there in case there was trouble. Or maybe she wanted to take care of Bokka's body alone. Either way, Saangi and I stayed with Alder. Doctor Nazsha was true to his word. Every few hours he returned to change Alder's dressing and give him more liquid. The guy probably didn't sleep all night. He was a good doctor.

After spending a few hours there watching over Alder, Saangi went out to get some food and water. That was fine, but I didn't have the energy to eat. All I wanted was to be unconscious. I was dog-tired. But as beat as I was, I couldn't knock off. Random thoughts kept bouncing around my head like a foosball game with twelve balls.

There have been many times since I left home that I questioned whether it was a mistake that I had become a Traveler. Did I say “many times”? How about a few hundred times a day? I wrote to you before about Gunny's theory. He thinks that somebody actually chose the Travelers, though he has no idea who that could be. If it's true, when I meet him the first thing I'm going to ask that guy is: “Why me?” I guess I'd done okay so far, but if I were asked to describe the perfect Traveler, it sure wouldn't be me. As I sat there, trying not to stress over these cosmic questions that had no answers, I heard a familiar voice.

“How is he?”

I looked up to see Loor standing in the doorway.

“The same,” I said. “But I think that's a good thing.”

Loor walked over to Alder and put a hand on his forehead. I watched her, thinking that when I met that mysterious guy who chose the Travelers, the one question I wouldn't have to ask is: “Why Loor?” I knew why Loor. She was strong. She was brave. She was simple, but I mean that in a good way. She didn't overanalyze everything the way I did. Right and wrong were as easy for her to pick out as left and right. All the Travelers are special in some way, but I have to say that Loor is our backbone. If we lost her, we'd be done. I know I would. I actually thought ahead to a time in the future when this battle with Saint Dane would be over. Would I ever see Loor again? Would I continue to ride the flumes? Would she come to Second Earth? I couldn't imagine life without her being part of it. How that might work was a whole nother problem for another day. I already had too many balls bouncing around the foosball table in my brain to worry about that.

She left Alder and walked over to me. “Bokka is at rest,” she said before I had the chance to ask her. “I honored him in the traditional way.”

I knew what that meant. She had cremated Bokka's body, the same as we did with Kasha. I couldn't begin to imagine how tough that was. I didn't want to.

“I'm sorry, Loor” was all I could say. “I wish I knew him better.”

“In many ways he was like you,” she said. “He believed that good could be found in everyone. That was what I liked most about him.”

I nodded.

“Pendragon?” came a raspy voice.

It was Alder. He was awake! Loor and I hurried to the bed to see that his eyes were open. They were unfocused and glassy, but open. I wasn't sure if that was from the blood loss, or the wacky mind-numbing medicines the doctor had been pumping into him.

“Water,” he croaked.

I grabbed a cup and brought it to his lips. Alder raised his head to take a few sips, then dropped back down as if the effort were too much.

“Weak,” he whispered.

“I hear you,” I said. “But you're gonna be okay.”

At that moment Doctor Nazsha entered, along with Saangi.

“He's awake!” I announced.

The doctor went right to Alder and did a quick exam.

“I am amazed,” Nazsha said. “His wounds are healing.” He looked at me and added, “You and your friend have remarkable recuperative powers.”

We did? When I was in that hospital it sure felt like my recovery took a long time. But then again, I'd never had my entire body pummeled and broken before, so I didn't have any frame of reference.

The doctor continued, “If there is no infection, I believe he will be fine.”

Relief? Yeah, that's an understatement. Even Saangi smiled. More surprising than that, Loor hugged me. Loor. Cold, professional Loor. I didn't know if this meant she was warming up, or she was totally relieved that she wouldn't have to witness the deaths of two friends. It didn't matter. I hugged her back.

Alder rasped, “I feel as weak as a baby.”

Loor said, “Not for long. You are stronger than any Ghee.”

The doctor said, “It will take time before you will be well enough to move. I will care for you until then.”

Alder nodded and fell back to sleep. Lucky him.

“Thanks, Doctor,” I said. “You did a good thing here.”

Nazsha nodded and said, “I trust you will be as successful in your quest.” He left. The pressure was off. Alder would live. Knowing that, my mind instantly went to the challenge ahead.

“I know this is tough to talk about,” I began. “But we have to. Bokka died trying to give us information. Something is going on with the Rokador. It was so important that he was killed by his own people to stop him from telling us.”

“He said it was a nightmare,” Saangi added.

“Right, nightmare,” I said. “Remind you of anyone?”

“Saint Dane,” Loor said.

“Yeah, Saint Dane,” I echoed. “Tell me about Kidik. It's a city, right?”

“It is the seat of Rokador power,” Loor explained. “Not many Batu have been there. I have never seen it myself.”

I took Bokka's map from where I was keeping it, inside the chest piece of my Ghee armor. I unfolded the parchment to see that it looked like a crude road map. But rather than roads, this map showed tunnels. Hundreds of them. Some wider than others. It was pretty extensive, too. Imagine looking at a road map with no markings other than the roads. No landmarks, no mountains, and certainly no rest stops with a McDonald's. The route to Kidik was traced in red.

“Bokka has shown us the way,” I said. “He said we'd find the truth at the center, beyond Kidik. Do you know what that is?”

“No,” Loor said.

I looked to Saangi. She shrugged.

“Well,” I said, “I think we have to go find out.”

“We are going to Kidik?” Saangi asked, eagerly.

“Not you,” Loor answered. Saangi wanted to argue, but Loor cut her off fast. “Stop!” she commanded. “That is my decision. You must remain here to care for Alder. When he is well enough to move, you must bring him to the flume and send him home.”

“Uh, but don't use the flume yourself,” I added, just in case.

“But Loor—”

“That is final!” Loor said. She meant it. Saangi realized it and backed off.

“Let's go now,” I said. “I'm ready.”

“Not just yet,” Loor said. “Tonight is the Festival of Azhra, remember? You have been personally invited to attend by Pelle a Zinj. I believe we should go.”

“What?” I shouted. “We finally have a hint that might lead us to Saint Dane and you want to go to a party? Bokka died to give us this information. We have to go!”

“I agree,” Loor said. “But I believe the one person who will determine whether or not the Batu go to war with the Rokador is Pelle a Zinj. The royal family always makes a ceremonial presentation and a speech to the city at the festival. I believe it would be wise for us to hear what he has to say.”

I couldn't argue with that. If Pelle a Zinj was going to make a big speech to the whole city, he wasn't going to be talking about sports. Loor was right. This speech might tell us if war was near.