The Quillan Games (56 page)

It was Nevva Winter.

“I couldn't get them to bring me there, no matter how much I begged,” she said. “It wasn't until they needed to convince you to put your life on the line for their cause. I told them that one look at Mr. Pop would convince you to compete. Of course, it was my idea, so it was only fair that I tag along. Before we left, I dropped off one of these.”

She held up one finger. Around it was a loop.

(CONTINUED)

I
stood staring at Nevva with my mouth open.

“I . . . I . . . don't understand,” I said.

“It's very simple,” she said. “They tracked the loop.”

“No!” I shouted. “You're a Traveler! How could you do this?”

Nevva walked farther into the room and stood next to Saint Dane. My mind wasn't accepting what I was seeing. It was impossible.

“I'm sorry I had to deceive you, Pendragon,” she said. “I'm not your enemy. But we needed you to compete, and to help us find Mr. Pop.”

My mind flashed back to the time I spent with her. Was it all a lie? Did she really read journals from the acolytes, or did she just listen to Saint Dane?

“Remudi!” I said. “How did you get him to compete?”

“The same way,” Nevva said. “We told him he would be the inspiration for the revival, but that was never the plan. He was there to lure you into the competition.”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. “You knew he would die,” I said. “You caused a Traveler to die.”

“It was necessary,” she said. “I'm not proud of what I did, but I'm very proud of the result.”

“You're no better than Saint Dane!” I shouted.

“I've been all over Halla, Pendragon,” she said. “What I saw time and again was hypocrisy. People everywhere fight and die for what they believe in. The trouble is, so few believe in the same thing, which pits them against one another. It's all so . . . futile. Saint Dane has convinced me that his vision can bring about a unified Halla with a single purpose.”

“But what is that purpose?” I said, trying to keep from screaming. “He's a monster, Nevva! He may want to unify Halla, but into what? He has no conscience. He has no compassion. He doesn't have the ability to love.”

Saint Dane said, “Ahhh, love. Love is at the root of every conflict. To say I am incapable of love is a compliment.”

“How did he do it, Nevva? How did he get to you?”

“I lost my parents, Pendragon. I was angry. Then Press told me I was a Traveler. He showed me so much of Halla, but as much as he told me how things were the way they were meant to be, I couldn't accept it. Not after what happened to my parents. I knew there had to be a better way, and Saint Dane showed me. When the Convergence comes, I plan on being by his side.”

“What is the Convergence?” I screamed. “Tell me!”

Saint Dane said, “You are barely beginning to evolve as a Traveler. I have taught Nevva many things. I can teach you as well.”

Nevva said, “The battle will soon be over. You can make it so much simpler for everyone by giving in to the inevitable.”

The impossible had happened. Saint Dane had turned a Traveler. I now had two enemies.

“What's next?” I asked. “Second Earth? Third Earth? What is this Convergence?”

Nevva said, “After what's happened here on Quillan, I don't think it would be wise for me to be here any longer. Ibara no longer has a Traveler. I might just take Remudi's place.”

“It's done, Pendragon,” Saint Dane said. “Save yourself and the lives of thousands. Do the right thing and take the advice you gave me on the Tato platform. Give up.”

Boom!

The double doors leading into the trustee courtroom blasted open. We were under attack, but from whom? I dove down between some seats and looked up to see several people pouring into the room who looked like commandos. They were dressed all in black with black hoods, and carrying golden rifles. I knew them. It was the revivers.

Saint Dane and Nevva took off running. They sprinted out of the courtroom and down the corridor to the office of Mr. Kayto. Of Saint Dane. One of the revivers ran up and said, “Pendragon!”

“It was her!” I shouted. “Nevva! She's the one who gave away Mr. Pop!”

The guy motioned for the others to chase Nevva and Saint Dane. They quickly blasted out of the room. I don't know why I bothered telling them that. It was too late. The guy next to me took off his hood. It was the older guy who'd helped me when I first came to Quillan.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“They brought me here,” I said. “What are
you
doing here?”

He sat down, looking tired.

“Making a useless gesture,” he said. “With all the confusion after what happened to Mr. Pop, we thought we might get to the trustees to . . . I don't know what. The building's been evacuated. We didn't see anyone, until just now.” The guy looked like he was going to cry. “It's over. It's done. Everything is . . . gone.”

I knew how he felt. I wanted to cry too.

“I don't even know your name,” I said.

“It's Sander,” he said. “You were amazing, Pendragon. Everything was coming together. The revival had begun. And then . . . ” He couldn't finish.

“Let's go see what the others have found,” I said.

We left the courtroom. In the corridor there was a reviver standing outside the door to the office Saint Dane had used as Mr. Kayto. We hurried to meet him.

“Are they in there?” Sander asked.

“N-No,” the guy said, sounding shaken. “Look.”

We entered the office and saw the other revivers standing by the large floor-to-ceiling window—or what was left of it. The window had been smashed out.

“They jumped,” one of the revivers said.

Sander looked cautiously out the window and down to the ground. I knew there would be nothing to see. They were gone. The grim reality hit me that I now faced two enemies with the same powers.

“Come on,” Sander said. “It won't be long before the dados return. We're not safe here.”

Sander brought me back to the underground. Though Nevva had revealed the location of the malls, there were still several safe places where the revivers could gather. Or what was left of them. The revival was dead. Destroying Mr. Pop had the exact effect that Saint Dane wanted: It destroyed the people's will to resist. Their hope was gone. In a short few
moments the people had gone from the heights of enthusiasm to the depths of despair. The movement would not recover from it. Mr. Pop was more than a symbol—it was the last physical evidence of their past civilization, and it was gone.

I spent the next few weeks living with the remains of the revivers, trying to make sense of what had happened. They accepted me because I had given my all to help them, as futile as it may have been. I had earned their respect and their thanks. The whole time I spent with them, I didn't say much. I listened. I didn't like what I heard. These people were the heart of the revival, and they had given up. The destruction of Mr. Pop was too much for them to handle. Saint Dane was right. Hope is a fragile emotion that's easily lost. These people had lost all hope.

I knew how they felt, but my own loss of hope went far beyond the territory of Quillan. I felt as if we had reached another turning point. The turning point of Halla. I feared it had gone the wrong way. Knowing that I was partly to blame was hard to take. Saint Dane played me. So did Nevva. They built up my ego and made me think I was invincible. For all I knew, this was Saint Dane's plan all along. We Travelers have had a lot of success. I've had a lot of success. When Saint Dane physically attacked me on Zadaa, it pushed me into becoming a fighter. I was good at it. I may not have had the full-on killer instinct, but I was good. It now looked as if everything was designed to put me in this position, and cause the loss of another territory. And Halla.

My shame became complete when I was walking on the street several days after the Grand X. The screens on top of the buildings came to life. Who appeared? Veego and LaBerge. They were back in business. If that weren't bad enough, they were there to introduce a new Quillan game.
The contestants were the new Challenger Red and Challenger Green.

The new Challenger Green was . . . Tylee Magna. They had captured her shortly after Mr. Pop was destroyed. None of the revivers knew what had happened to her until that moment. The revivers had not only failed, their leader was being forced to play the Quillan games. I didn't watch the match. I couldn't.

I spent much of my time alone, writing this journal. This is the hardest journal I have had to write so far, because I feel as if I'm writing the final chapter. I don't know what to do next. Go to Ibara and track down Nevva Winter? But what of Saint Dane? Where was he headed next? He mentioned something called the Convergence. Is that a territory? An event? I have no way of knowing.

I think one of the reasons I wasn't quick to leave Quillan was because I didn't want to accept total defeat. I wanted to believe there was some seed, some person, some slight burning ember that was dug out of the ruin of Mr. Pop that would tell me all wasn't lost. But the longer I spent here, the more I realized I was dreaming. Quillan was dead. I helped kill it.

I almost ended the journal here. I was about to send it off to you guys when Sander paid me a visit in my little cell room.

“There's someone here who wants to see you,” he said.

“Who is it?” I asked.

“I don't know,” Sander answered. “She says she knows you.”

I had no idea who it might be. Could another Traveler have shown up? Was it Loor? Or Aja? I followed Sander out to the common area that was an abandoned barbershop. Sitting in the ancient unused barber chair was an elderly woman. I didn't recognize her until she spoke.

“Hello,” she said. “Do you remember me?”

“Yes!” I said. “I met you when I visited Mr. Pop. You gave me this for luck.” I still had on the dark beaded necklace with the single gold bead. “You probably should have kept it yourself,” I said, taking it off to give back to her.

“I don't want it,” she said brusquely, almost in anger.

“Oh, okay,” I said. “I'm glad you're okay.”

“I barely escaped ahead of the attack,” she said.

We both fell silent for a moment, remembering the carnage.

“Is there something I can do for you?” I asked.

“Maybe,” she said. “And maybe there's something I can do for you. A while back I was given a gift. At the time I couldn't accept it. My life was falling apart and I didn't have the strength to deal with much of anything. I'm not proud of that, but at the time I did what I thought was right. I went into seclusion. I left behind everything I knew and dedicated myself to the revival, and to caring for the archives. For Mr. Pop.”

“I'm sorry,” I said.

“Not as much as I,” she said. “If I hadn't done what I did, the library might still be safe. I'll have to live with that for the rest of my life.”

“I don't get it,” I said. “How could dedicating your life to Mr. Pop lead to its being destroyed?”

The woman took a deep tired breath, then said, “My name is Elli. Elli Winter. Nevva is my daughter.”

My head felt light. I had to sit in the other barber chair.

“Did she tell you about me?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “She thinks you tried to assassinate the trustees and that's why you disappeared.”

Elli scoffed and said, “Maybe that would have been the smarter thing to do, as things turned out. Did you know my husband died in the tarz?”

“Yes,” I said.

“He loved Nevva. She was his world.”

“Excuse me,” I interrupted. “You said she's your daughter?”

“Yes. We adopted her. She was always a precocious child. She challenged everything and questioned everyone. I wasn't surprised when I found out she'd gone to work for the trustees of Blok, but I was never more proud than when I heard she had joined the revivers. I was able to keep up with her through word of mouth, but never wanted her to know where I was.”

“Why didn't you tell her you were okay?” I asked.

“At first it was because of what happened to my husband. I was devastated. I truly couldn't face the world, even Nevva. And then I was given some news that confused me even further. Instead of trying to understand, I ran away. Time went on and I found peace, but I didn't know how to tell Nevva what I had done. I was so ashamed. That's why I chose to live in the library. It was the most secret place I could find. Nobody came there. I was in a place where I could be alone to think and try to understand all that had happened.”

“So what was the news you got?” I asked.

Elli was wearing a dark cloak. She reached into the folds. “I told you that I received a gift. It was shortly after my husband died. I think you might know what this is.” She pulled her hand out of the cloak, clutching something tightly. She held it out and opened her hand to reveal . . . a Traveler ring.

“I was supposed to be the Traveler from Quillan, Pendragon. Your uncle Press brought me this ring and told me of my destiny. He said that I would be the Traveler until Nevva was ready, then I would pass the responsibility on to her.” Tears welled up in Elli's eyes. “But I couldn't do it. I was frightened. Hearing stories of flumes and territories and
Halla and Saint Dane and
you
—it was all too much for me. So I ran away. Press was understanding, he told me that Nevva would take my place right away, but asked me to keep the ring. Now I find that my daughter has turned her back on everyone. She betrayed her people, and she betrayed the Travelers. If I'd been stronger, if I had been a better mother and faced my responsibilities, none of this would have happened.”