“There is one other small thing,” she said slyly.
“I figured,” Mark shot back quickly.
“I want your ring.”
Without thinking, Mark grabbed his Traveler ring with the opposite hand. He had only parted with the ring once, when he gave it to Courtney to continue on as an acolyte while he traveled with Nevva to First Earth to try to save his parents. Once they were reunited, Courtney had given it back. She knew the ring belonged on Mark’s finger. The idea of giving it up again made Mark wince.
“What? No! Why?” he exclaimed.
“To give Pendragon exactly what he wants.”
Mark stared at her, uncomprehending. “Uh, what?” he muttered.
“Pendragon destroyed the flume on Ibara,” Nevva said coldly. “He wanted to be cut off from the rest of Halla. I want to oblige him and make it a full break.”
“What for? Revenge?”
“Call it that if you’d like.”
Mark twisted the ring on his finger. “Forget it!” he snapped. “This is the only link I have with my best friend. Why the heck would I give it up?”
Nevva looked deep into Mark’s eyes, as if trying to read his thoughts. It unnerved him. If he had said anything at that moment, it would surely have come out as a stutter. He knew she had to have an agenda that went beyond trying to isolate Bobby.
“Saint Dane has taught me many things,” Nevva explained. “He’s working on an entirely higher plane than the other Travelers and he’s shared some of his unique abilities with me.”
“Good for you,” Mark said sarcastically. “Why should I care?”
“Because unlike the other Travelers, I know how to control the flumes,” Nevva answered quickly. “I can not only travel between territories, I have the ability to control the time when I arrive.”
Mark felt his throat clench. He knew this couldn’t be good.
“So what?” Mark commented coolly.
“I prevented your parents from boarding the airplane that crashed, Mark,” she said coldly. “You know that. What if I told you I could travel back to Second Earth to a time before their plane took off and this time watch silently as they handed over their tickets and boarded?”
Mark felt as if the park were spinning. He had lost his parents once…or thought he had. It was the whole reason he’d agreed to come to First Earth. Nevva told him that by traveling to the past he could change the future and save his parents from dying in that plane crash. But she was lying. Nevva had already saved his parents. That wasn’t why Saint Dane wanted him on First Earth. It was all about getting him to sell Forge to KEM and start the chain of events that would lead to the creation of the dados. It wasn’t about his parents. It had never been about his parents.
Until now.
“Wh-Why?” Marked croaked. He didn’t care anymore that he sounded nervous. “Why would you do that?”
“I don’t want to,” she said, trying to sound sincere. It didn’t work. Nevva Winter was cold, efficient, and calculating. “I like your parents. I don’t want to see them die.”
“Then why?” Mark cried. “I did what you wanted. KEM has Forge. What else do you want from my life?”
Nevva looked at Mark’s ring and coolly answered, “I want your ring.”
Mark quickly put his hand in his pocket. “This can’t just be about Bobby.”
“It isn’t,” Nevva answered. “Call it a test.”
“Test? Of what?”
“Of you. Of people. Of Earth,” Nevva replied. “Saint Dane and I have the same vision. Our goal is to create a perfect Halla.”
“Yeah, by destroying it,” Mark spat.
“No, by breaking it down in order to rebuild,” Nevva said passionately. “Halla must be purged of all impurity before it can thrive. Unfortunately, the Travelers don’t share that vision. That’s what the struggle has been about, Mark. Saint Dane’s vision of a perfect Halla, versus the flawed existence that the Travelers insist on trying to protect.”
“So what is the test?”
“I’m giving you a choice,” Nevva said dispassionately. “Give me the ring and I’ll never bother you again.”
“I don’t believe you,” Mark cried. “If you want the ring so badly, it must be because it will help you in some way. And helping you is helping Saint Dane.”
“That’s where the test comes in. How firm are you in your convictions? How important is it for you to continue helping the Travelers? Helping Pendragon? Which is more important? The futile quest to stop Saint Dane…or your parents? Think, Mark. Think hard and make the right choice, because if you choose the Travelers, I promise you, your parents will die.”
Mark’s knees buckled. They actually buckled. He fell down to the ground and sat on his feet, trying to catch his breath. His head spun. What was this about? Why was his ring so important to Nevva? To Saint Dane? Mark couldn’t breathe. As badly as he felt about being duped into inventing Forge, he’d had no idea that he was doing exactly what Saint Dane wanted. Now he was faced with a much more difficult choice. His parents were in danger again. To save them, he had to agree to help the demon. There would be no excuses this time.
“That’s the test?” Mark asked, numb. “Halla or my parents?”
“Something like that,” Nevva said without compassion.
“Why does it matter? What’s the point of a test like that?”
“It’s everything, Mark. If you choose your parents, you’d be proving once again how selfish and corrupt the people of Halla are.”
“You think it’s selfish to protect people you love?”
“It’s selfish to put your personal concerns ahead of millions, no, billions of others.”
Mark looked up into her steely eyes. He had never felt hatred before. He was a forgiving kind of guy who never held a grudge and always saw the good in people. As much as Andy Mitchell had made his life a living hell, he’d never felt actual hatred for him.
At that moment Mark hated Nevva Winter.
“You’re as bad as Saint Dane,” he seethed.
“Thank you,” Nevva answered with a self-satisfied smile.
Mark wanted to hit her. He forced himself to look away to allow the rage to pass. He had to think. The choice was impossible. He needed to buy some time. Hopefully an answer would jump out.
“How can I believe you?” he asked. “I could give you my ring, and you might hurt my parents anyway. What proof do you have that they’d be safe?”
“None,” Nevva answered abruptly. “You only have my word. But you also have my word that if you don’t give me the ring, they will die.”
Mark felt as if he had been hit in the stomach. He needed help. He needed to talk to Courtney. He couldn’t make this huge of a decision on his own.
It was at that moment that an idea came to him. It was a simple idea, but it offered a glimmer of hope.
“This is about isolating Bobby, right? You don’t want him to be able to contact me anymore?”
Nevva’s answer was to stare back at him silently. Mark felt the rush of hope. He got to his feet.
“You really think that by keeping Bobby from sending journals to me, it’ll help Saint Dane?”
Again Nevva didn’t answer.
Mark didn’t need an answer. He had already convinced himself that it was the truth. What he was beginning to realize, to hope, was that giving up his ring would mean nothing. There were other rings spread throughout Halla. Dodger was Gunny’s acolyte. He had his own ring! If Bobby wanted to contact him, or they wanted to contact Bobby, he could use Dodger’s ring. Was Nevva that dumb? He needed to talk to Dodger to make sure the little bellhop still had his Traveler ring.
“Can I give you my answer tomorrow?” Mark asked.
“No, you can give me your ring right now” was Nevva’s curt response.
Mark convinced himself. Giving up the ring would be inconvenient, but not disastrous. He clutched the heavy ring and yanked it off his finger. He held it, feeling its weight. Holding it with two fi
ngers he took a close look. He hadn’t examined it for the longest time. In the center of the silver ring was a dark gray stone. Etched in the silver, circling the stone, were ten symbols. Each represented one of the territories of Halla. His mind flashed back to the time several years before, when he’d been awakened in the middle of the night by Osa, Loor’s mother. She handed Mark the ring, saying it was from Bobby. He had given it up only once since then. Other than that, he had worn it every minute for nearly four years. He knew that if he gave it to Nevva, he’d never see it again. But he convinced himself that it was okay. There were other rings he could use to contact Bobby. Saving this one ring wasn’t worth risking his parents’ lives, no matter what kind of test it represented. If it meant saving his parents, he wouldn’t mind failing.
He took a deep breath and held the ring out. “If you’re lying,” he warned, “I swear you’ll regret it.”
Nevva didn’t take it right away. Instead, she looked into Mark’s eyes. For a moment she seemed to soften. Mark thought she actually seemed disappointed.
“Saint Dane was right,” she said softly. “You are all selfish and shortsighted.”
Mark almost took the ring back. Before he could make a move, Nevva pulled it out of his grasp.
“Promise me,” he said. “Promise me my parents will be safe.”
“They won’t die in that plane crash, Mark,” Nevva said. “You have my word. You can trust me, which is more than I can say for you.”
Mark winced. What did she mean by that?
“Now go home,” she commanded. “Or do whatever you’d like. Go!”
Mark turned to head for the hotel. He didn’t want to have to look at Nevva anymore, but he was confused. Nevva’s reaction made no sense. He took a few steps, then stopped and turned back quickly. “I don’t get it. Isn’t this what you wanted?”
Nevva was gone. He heard a screeching caw and looked to the sky. Overhead he saw a large black bird rising up—a raven. He watched it circle once, then with a quick flap of its wings, it shot off. As it moved, the sun reflected off something near its head.
In its beak, the raven clutched a ring.
FIRST EARTH
(CONTINUED)
Dodger had arranged for three rooms in a small, out-of-the-way hotel on Brompton Place, near the large department store known as Harrods. Not that that mattered. Nobody felt much like shopping. The Dimonds were in one room, Courtney had her own, while Dodger and Mark shared a third. It was expensive, but Mark was paying and didn’t care.
“Why not?” he exclaimed when they first checked in. “I’m a rich inventor now, right? If I’m being paid the big bucks to alter the course of humanity, we might as well be comfortable.”
Nobody thought that was funny. Including Mark. The money truly meant nothing to him. He’d give it all back in a second if it meant he could reclaim Forge.
They had been in London for a little more than twenty-four hours and were already making plans to return to New York, having failed to convince KEM to give up Forge. The five sat together in the lounge of the hotel, drinking tea and eating scones. It was five o’clock. Tea time. That’s what people did in England at five o’clock. Mark wasn’t a tea guy. He wasn’t a scone guy either. What he really wanted was a Mountain Dew and some Garden Poultry fries.
“This is like eatin’ sawdust,” Dodger exclaimed as he chewed on the flaky pastry. He puckered his lips and tried to whistle. All that came out was a spray of dry crumbs. “Now I know why they drink so much tea. You gotta wash this stuff down or you’ll choke.” He took a big gulp of tea and added, “Gimme a good ol’ greasy doughnut anytime.”
Mr. and Mrs. Dimond chuckled. They seemed to actually enjoy the snack. Courtney did too. She was so hungry she’d eat anything, but that was Courtney. Mark simply stared out the window, lost in thought.
“Drink your tea before it gets cold,” Mrs. Dimond said to him.
Mark grabbed his teacup, took a gulp, then quickly tossed the cup back down onto the saucer with a loud clatter, knocking his spoon onto the floor.
“Whoa, easy there, partner,” Dodger warned.
To everyone else it seemed that Mark was being clumsy. To everyone else but Courtney, that is. She stared at her friend uneasily.
“You okay?” she asked with trepidation.
“Yeah, sure,” Mark answered quickly. He avoided making eye contact with her to try not to give away the fact that he wasn’t even close to okay. He kept his right hand buried in his pocket. He didn’t want anybody to notice that something was missing.
“All right, folks. Here’s the plan,” Dodger announced while clapping the crumbs off his hands. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out three black and red paper folders. “We’ve got three berths in cabin class for the voyage back, day after tomorrow. It ain’t a cheap haul, let me tell you, but since DADO is payin’ for it—”
“Don’t say that,” Mark snapped.
Everyone shot a look at Mark. They weren’t used to him being so opinionated. About anything.
“Sorry, chum,” Dodger apologized. “I didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”
Mark looked at his shoes. Courtney looked at Mark, frowning.
“We sail at noon, so we should get an early start to the docks,” Dodger continued. “So if you want to do any sightseeing, tomorrow’s the day.”
Nobody said a word.
“Though I guess nobody’s really in the mood for that,” Dodger added.
The awkward silence continued.
“This is what you wanted, right?” Dodger asked, confused. “I mean, did I mess up or something?”
“You did fine,” Courtney offered. “I think we’re all just a little bit tired. Thanks for getting the tickets.”
“Things’ll look better once we get home,” Dodger offered hopefully. “You know, back to familiar surroundings.”
“I’m not exactly sure what home is anymore,” Mark said softly.
Mrs. Dimond looked to her son, pained. He had grown a lifetime in the past four years.
Dodger stood, trying to break the gloom. “There’s a little restaurant next door that looks good for dinner. Okay if I make reservations?”
“Good idea,” Mr. Dimond replied.
Dodger nodded. He didn’t know what else to say, so he ducked out. Courtney and the Dimonds kept looking to Mark, waiting for him to say something. Finally Mark took a breath and looked back at them.
“He’s right,” Mark exclaimed. “Things’ll look better once we get back. Let’s not sit around feeling sorry for ourselves. I’m hungry, and not for one of those dry little turd balls.”
Everyone laughed, in spite of the heavy atmosphere. An hour later they all sat in the Wild Boar restaurant next to the hotel, feasting on shepherd’s pie, haddock cakes, and roast beef. Though it was actually on the menu, nobody took a chance on ordering the wild boar. They talked about England…about what they’d seen and what they might catch a glimpse of the next day. They talked about the Queen Mary and what they looked forward to on the voyage back to New York. They even talked about the weather. The weather! To anybody who may have been eavesdropping they sounded exactly like a normal, everyday family from America on holiday. Truth was, there was nothing normal about them, other than the fact that for a few hours they tried to pretend like everything was okay. It was pretty clear that nobody wanted to talk about anything that had to do with Forge, KEM, or Saint Dane. It was like a short holiday. Very short. By ten o’clock everyone was in his or her room, sound asleep.
Everyone but Mark. He lay awake, staring at the ceiling, listening to Dodger’s grinding snore. For hours. At times it got so loud he was surprised the windows didn’t rattle. It wasn’t the snoring that kept him awake though. Mark couldn’t stop thinking about his meeting with Nevva. He had convinced himself that she told him the truth. She only wanted the ring so that Bobby would be truly isolated, with no contact from the rest of Halla. Did he believe her? Surely she must have known that there were other rings floatin
g around. Or had she made deals for those as well?
Mark twisted his head to look over at the next bed. “Dodger?” he whispered.
Dodger’s answer was an even deeper snore. The guy was long gone. Mark had only known him for a short time, but liked the feisty acolyte. And why not? If Gunny trusted him, he had to be a great guy. He definitely proved useful in getting them around on First Earth. He was going to be a huge asset once they got back to New York and had to figure out what their next move would be. Dodger was definitely a friend.
Dodger also possessed the key to knowing if Mark had made the mistake of a lifetime. Sitting on the night table between the two beds was a lamp, a phone, a roll of British pound notes…and Dodger’s Traveler ring. It was right there, a few feet from his head. Mark sat up slowly. The old bedsprings let out a groaning creak. He froze and took another look at Dodger. Would this wake him? Dodger rolled over and mumbled something in his sleep that sounded to Mark like, “Fur bell gone girl.” Mark didn’t think it required a response. He took a breath and stood up quickly. The bed creaked. Dodger didn’t. Mark swept Dodger’s ring off the table and hurried for the door. With the stealth of a cat burglar trying to break out of a house, he left the room and closed the door without disturbing the dreams of his new friend.
A grandfather clock at the end of the corridor chimed twice. Two in the morning. Normal people were asleep. Mark crept down the carpeted stairs to the small sitting room where they all had shared tea. The place was empty. The only sound came from several different clocks that echoed multiple ticks and tocks throughout the small hotel. A single table lamp was lit. There was enough light to see, if not to read. Mark desperately hoped that soon there would be a lot more light filling the room.
He placed the ring down reverently on the thick rug, knelt down, and leaned over so that his nose wasn’t more than a foot away from the ring.
“Ibara,” Mark whispered.
The ring didn’t move. Didn’t twitch. Didn’t grow.
“Ibara,” Mark said again, this time in a normal voice.
The response was the same, which is to say, there was no response. The ring lay dormant.