SECOND EARTH

Courtney Chetwynde was coming home.

Spending nearly two months in a hospital had been torture for her. In more ways than one. But she knew she couldn’t rush things. Broken bones took time to heal. So did a broken spirit. She would never be able to shake the memories of what happened to her the night of the accident. That was good. She didn’t want to shake them. She wanted to remember every last detail. She had been riding her bike on a lonely country road when a car ran her off the side of a steep embankment. The fall was brutal. It broke four ribs, and her left arm in two places. Her left leg was broken so badly that they had to put four pins in to help it set properly. She even got a concussion. But as horrible as those injuries were, they weren’t life threatening. The real problem came with the internal injuries. She needed surgery to repair tears in so many places that Courtney would stop listening whenever a doctor discussed how bad off she was. She didn’t want to hear it. In the two months since the accident, not a day went by without some doctor saying, “You’re lucky to be alive.”

Courtney didn’t feel very lucky. If she were lucky, she wouldn’t have been nearly killed. If she were lucky, she never would have gone to summer school and met a guy named Whitney Wilcox. If she were lucky, she wouldn’t have thought he was cute and developed a major crush on him. If she were lucky, she wouldn’t have been riding her bike to meet him when she got run off the road. If she were lucky, she would have realized there really was no such person as Whitney Wilcox. He was an illusion. A lie. As she lay crumbled in the woods on the side of the road that horrible night, just before she lost consciousness, she saw that the person driving the car that hit her was none other than Whitney Wilcox. The guy she was growing to like. The guy she thought might become the boyfriend that Bobby Pendragon wasn’t able to be.

The guy who turned out to be Saint Dane.

The demon had tried to kill her. He had looked down on her broken body from the road above and said, “I give, and I take away. You people of Second Earth are so easily controlled. I was hoping this would be more of a challenge, but alas. It was not meant to be.” The demon had then transformed himself from the image of Whitney Wilcox into a huge black bird that flew away into the night, leaving her to die.

But Courtney didn’t cooperate. Thanks to Mark Dimond. Good old Mark. She managed to get a call out to him on her cell phone. All she was able to say before passing out was, “He’s here.” It was all she needed to say. Mark knew what she meant. He knew she was in trouble. Mark came screaming up to Massachusetts, where Courtney was going to summer school, and found her near death on the side of the road. Mark saved her life. It was the one thing that didn’t surprise Courtney about the whole nasty experience. She knew that if there was anyone she could always count on, it was Mark.

What did surprise her was that Mark was helped by a guy who had been his archenemy since they were little kids. Andy Mitchell. Mitchell gave Mark a ride from their home in Connecticut up to the Berkshires on a moment’s notice. (Mark didn’t have his driver’s license.) If not for Andy, Mark wouldn’t have made it in time. That was a strange and somewhat unsettling thought. Courtney knew that if not for Andy Mitchell’s help, she’d be dead.

As grateful as she was, it was an odd feeling, because Andy Mitchell had been nothing more than an obnoxious bully for as long as she could remember. He took particular pains to harass Mark. Poor nerdy Mark. Bully bait. But it had recently come out that as idiotic as Andy Mitchell was, he was very gifted at math. So gifted that he was asked to join Mark’s elite science club at school. Sci-Clops. Courtney knew that Mark hated the idea of his beloved club being invaded by the un-beloved Andy Mitchell. But even Mark had to admit that Mitchell was special. Better still, after he joined Sci-Clops, Mitchell stopped harassing Mark. The two seemed to have found common ground and made peace.

But that didn’t make it any less strange for Courtney to see the two of them standing, together, at the foot of her bed in the intensive care unit after she came out of surgery. After that horrible day, Courtney often asked Mark how they could suddenly be so tight.

“You know he’s a turd,” Courtney would say.

Mark would always laugh and say something like, “He used to be, but I’m really getting to know the guy and he’s okay. And he’s, like, a genius, too!”

“Andy Mitchell? Genius?” Courtney would reply. “That’s like saying you found a cockroach that can do algebra.”

But Mark didn’t back down. If there was anyone who deserved to hate Andy Mitchell, it was Mark. Bullies always went after the insecure, brainy types. Mark was the perfect target. Andy had harassed him for years. So Courtney figured that if Mark could forgive him, who was she to hold a grudge? Especially since he helped save her life. Courtney decided to be less judgmental, no matter how big a slug Mitchell was. Or used to be.

After the accident Mark would often take the train from their home in Connecticut up to Massachusetts to visit Courtney in the hospital and keep her company while she went through therapy. Courtney looked forward to those visits. Being stuck in a hospital three hours from home was not a fun way to pass the time. The doctors didn’t want her to travel until she had completely healed, so she spent week after boring week sitting in her room watching daytime TV. She started getting hooked on soap operas, which embarrassed her. Courtney didn’t think of herself as someone who would be interested in such goofy TV. But it wasn’t like she had a whole lot of choices. Talk shows were boring and she was too old for cartoons. So she got wrapped up in the make-believe lives of some fakey TV characters. When it got to the point where the nurses would come in and ask her, “What happened to so and so?” or “Who’s cheating on who?” and Courtney actually knew the answers, she decided it was time to stop watching. She didn’t want to be working so hard to heal her body, while letting her brain turn to pudding.

Eventually they moved her out of the regular hospital and into a wing that was all about rehabilitation. It was a welcome relief, but a grueling experience. When the cast came off her leg, Courtney had to learn how to walk again. The pain was incredible, but the physical therapists didn’t cut her any slack. She didn’t want them to either. She told them to push her. She’d remind them, “If I complain, push harder.”

That was Courtney. She had always been driven, but the recent turn of events in her life had given her new purpose. It was hard for her to think back on the chain of circumstances that led to her being in the hospital, but she forced herself to. She wanted to remember it all, if only to learn from the ordeal. It was a difficult journey that had begun long before the accident.

Months before, she discovered that she and Mark had made the ultimate mistake by traveling through the flume to Eelong. As much as they had done an amazing job and helped Bobby save a territory, she later learned that by using the flumes, she and Mark had caused the death of a Traveler. Only Travelers were supposed to use the flumes, and by using it themselves they had weakened the tunnels through time and space so badly that the flume on Eelong had collapsed. When it crumbled, it trapped Spader and Gunny, and killed Kasha. The horrible truth was that by trying to help Bobby, they actually had helped Saint Dane in his quest to control Halla. What she thought was her greatest victory turned out to be a tragic failure.

The realization crushed Courtney, who was already going through a tough time at home and at school. Growing up, Courtney had always been the best at everything. Especially at sports. But when she hit high school, she found that others were as good as she was. Some better. Courtney was not used to losing. She wasn’t even used to trying that hard. She didn’t handle the pressure well, which felt like yet another failure. She always defined herself by her abilities on the field. Losing that made her feel worthless and depressed. She barely spoke with her parents. It was becoming unbearable to be Courtney, or to be around her. The many weeks lying in a hospital bed gave her time to think back on that difficult period and try to figure out why things had gone so wrong. She was disappointed in her inability to compete, of course, but she realized that what bothered her even more was the fact that she handled it so badly. Being good at sports was one thing. Having the strength to deal with life challenges was a whole nother ballgame, so to speak. A more important one. Courtney realized she didn’t have the strength to deal with either, and it depressed her.

The months of healing and introspection finally allowed her to admit that the reason she was so quick to jump to Eelong was because she wanted to prove something to herself. Of course she wanted to help Bobby, but she also desperately needed to restore her self-confidence. She wanted to win at something in the worst way. It almost worked, too. That is, until she realized how much damage she and Mark had done by traveling. When the truth came out, she fell into a total depression. It was so bad she couldn’t get out of bed. Her schoolwork was sent home or she would have flunked tenth grade. As it was, she was barely able to concentrate long enough to do the absolute minimum, and she barely squeaked into the eleventh grade.

It was a difficult time, but beneath it all Courtney was still a fighter, and committed herself to a new challenge. She wanted to put her life back together. She knew that to face the world again, she was first going to have to face herself. To that end she convinced her parents to send her away to summer school. She figured that six weeks on her own, with people who didn’t know her and who had no expectations, would be the perfect way to get back on her feet. She was right. Courtney slowly began to feel like herself again.

It bothered her that she left Mark alone to deal with Bobby’s journals, but she wisely realized that if she was going to have any hope of being useful to Bobby as an acolyte, she was going to have to get her life back together. Mark understood and supported her decision. It was all working out beautifully.

Until she met Whitney Wilcox.

Saint Dane had come to Second Earth and set her up for a fall. Literally. He took great trouble in getting her to trust him, and to like him, only to pull the rug out and try to kill her. Courtney spent hours trying to figure out why he’d done this. Was he just being evil for evil’s sake? Was he trying to prove something to Bobby? Worst of all, was this somehow part of his overall plan to target Second Earth in his quest to control Halla?

Courtney and Mark began discussing these questions on his very first visit to the hospital after the accident. Courtney’s parents would pay for Mark to take the train, and stay in a motel so he wouldn’t have to make the trip up and back in one day. They couldn’t be there all the time because of their jobs and knew that having visitors helped Courtney. They had no idea that Mark was there not only to be a supportive friend, but to discuss the future of all existence.

On one visit in early autumn, Mark brought all of Bobby’s journals that detailed his adventure on Zadaa. Courtney read them in one straight shot. Mark wanted Courtney to know all that was happening with Bobby, but he dreaded her finding out that Bobby had fallen in love with Loor. It was Bobby and Courtney who were supposed to be together. That was the way it was meant to be. They had kissed, and not just a dumb make-out kind of kiss. It was real. They truly loved each other. Mark could barely breathe as he waited for Courtney to read the part where Bobby admitted he had such strong feelings for Loor.

But when Courtney reached that section in the journal, she looked to Mark calmly and said, “I saw that coming.”

“You did?” Mark said, surprised.

“You didn’t?” was Courtney’s response. “C’mon, Mark. Things have changed a little, don’t you think? I mean, we aren’t the same people we were in junior high.”

“Well, I suppose,” Mark said sadly. “We’re getting older.”

“Yeah,” Courtney said quickly. “And we’re dealing with a powerful demon who’s trying to throw all time and space into chaos. Let’s not forget that little detail.”

“Right,” Mark said. “That too.”

“I love Bobby,” Courtney said. “And I know he loves me, too. But it’s not right for us now. Who knows? Maybe someday . . . ” Courtney’s voice trailed off. She didn’t want to speculate on anything. There was too much to deal with in the present. “I’m okay with it, Mark,” she said sincerely. “Really.”

Mark nodded.

“Besides,” she added. “Loor doesn’t want to be with him for the same reason. Things are too weird right now. But they won’t be forever.” She gave Mark a sly smile and said, “This isn’t over.”

Mark smiled too. Courtney was starting to sound more like Courtney every day. After reading the journals the two of them walked slowly around the grounds of the hospital. The leaves were starting to turn and the sky was the kind of deep blue that only comes with autumn. Courtney used a walker to keep weight off her leg. It was difficult for her to move. Her left arm was still mending, and she was incredibly stiff. Mark let her set the pace, which was odd for him, because usually he was the one who had to work to keep up with Courtney. Courtney was strong. She had the body of an athlete. The doctors told her she would heal and be back to her old self before she knew it. Her goal was to dump the walker before she got back to school, and be ready for spring soccer. She was right on schedule, though she was going to miss the beginning of their junior year at Davis Gregory High. The plan was for her to get assignments sent to her so she could keep up, then if all went well, she would be back in regular classes by Thanksgiving. Everyone felt confident that she could meet that timetable. Courtney wasn’t just confident. To her, it was a lock.

Both Courtney and Mark knew that as bad a time as Courtney was having on Second Earth, Bobby was still out there chasing Saint Dane and they were still acolytes. They had to get back with the program. Bobby had written some disturbing things in his last journals that had to be faced.

“I’ll just say it,” Mark announced boldly. “Are you as freaked as I am that Bobby brought Loor back from the dead?”

“I don’t know,” Courtney said with a smile. “How freaked are you?”

Mark didn’t laugh.

Courtney said, “I don’t think Bobby brought her back from the dead.”

“But—”

“Let me finish,” Courtney said quickly. “Yeah, maybe he had something to do with it, but I don’t think it was all about him. I think it has to do with the Travelers in general.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s stop kidding ourselves, Mark,” Courtney continued. “I know we grew up with Bobby and played with him when we were kids and pretty much had the same life he did until he took off with his uncle Press, but after all that’s happened, I think it’s pretty obvious that the Travelers aren’t normal. This fast-healing thing is only part of it. Why is it that they’re able to go through the flumes and everything is fine, but when we go through, they tear apart?”

Mark didn’t answer. He kept looking at the ground, weighing Courtney’s words.

She continued, “And how is it that when Bobby left home, every trace that he ever existed disappeared right along with him, including his family? And the house he grew up in? And every record, document, and photograph? Even his dog disappeared! I know we’ve been living with that for a couple of years now, but we’ve got to face it, there’s some force at work here that we know nothing about. Things don’t just disappear. At least not if you go by the rules of how things work here on good old Second Earth. You know that better than anybody. You’re the scientist. Whatever Bobby Pendragon is all about, I don’t think it has anything to do with the reality we know. He said it himself in his journal, he’s not so sure he even belongs on Second Earth.” Courtney took a breath and then said, “I’m not so sure he belongs here either.”

Mark shot Courtney a look. “You really have been thinking.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I have a whole lot to do,” she fired back. “I’m not really sure how to say this, but I don’t think the Travelers are human.”

“Are you serious?” Mark asked.

“What other explanation is there?” Courtney said. “None of them know who their real parents are. Sure, they were raised by people from their home territories, but then they were all told that their parents weren’t their biological parents. So who were their biological parents? I think if we ever find that out, we’ll know why they’re able to heal like they do.”

“And come back from the dead,” Mark said.

“Exactly. That’s not something humans can do, last time I checked.”

“What about Press and Osa and the others who died?”

“I don’t know,” Courtney said. “But Press said Bobby and the others were the last generation of Travelers. Maybe they had to die to give way to Bobby’s generation.”

“Okay,” Mark said. “So Bobby and the Travelers are operating under a different set of rules than the rest of us. Any idea who made up those rules?”

“That’s the big question,” Courtney said firmly. “When we find that out, we’ll unravel this whole thing.”

Mark let that sink in, then said softly, “Do you really think Bobby isn’t human?”

“C’mon!” Courtney snapped. “Tell me you haven’t been thinking the same thing!”

Mark nodded reluctantly.

“Of course you have,” she said. “I didn’t say I’m not weirded out by the idea, but what else can we think?”

Mark said, “So how does Saint Dane fit in?”

Courtney frowned and said softly, “I don’t know. But his powers are greater than all of them. He’s definitely part of the equation, but I can’t figure out how. All I’ve got are a bunch of theories. I’m short on real answers.”

They walked a bit more in silence, then Courtney said, “Do you remember what I said to you at the hospital right after the accident?”

“Every word,” Mark answered. “You said you were done hiding and feeling sorry for yourself. The exact thing you said was: Mark, I want that bastard.”

“He’s here, Mark,” Courtney said. “Saint Dane is on Second Earth. I don’t know why he came after me, but I think he’s starting to work whatever evil he’s got planned for our home. We’ve been worried about this from the beginning, and now it’s happening.”

“I was kind of hoping that by saving First Earth, the Travelers had saved Second and Third Earths, too,” Mark said.

“You’re dreaming,” Courtney said, scoffing. “We always knew the battle would come here. There are only ten territories. The turning point for six of them has already passed. Saint Dane is running out of options.”

Courtney saw that Mark was rubbing his palms on the legs of his pants. She knew why. Her palms were sweating too.

“So what do we do?” Mark asked. “Tell Bobby?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Courtney said. “And I want you to know something. What I said before, I meant. I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but I want to hurt Saint Dane the way he hurt me.”

“Be careful,” Mark said. “Don’t let your emotions get you. Look what it did to Spader.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Courtney said. “I’m mad, but I’m using it. With every exercise I do, every time I feel the burn, I focus on him. He doesn’t know it, but he’s helping me get better. Mentally and physically. He may have wanted to kill me to get me out of the way, but he only made me more focused. I’m coming back, Mark. And when Bobby comes home, we’re going to beat him . . . together.”

Mark nodded, though Courtney thought he looked a little green.

Seven weeks to the day after the accident, Courtney was released from the hospital. Mr. and Mrs. Chetwynde were there for the occasion, of course. Mark drove up with them. He told Courtney he wanted to see her leave the hospital in person. He said he hoped that Saint Dane would be there too, somewhere, just so he could see how badly he had failed and how strong they were. There was a little party thrown by the nurses. They brought in a cake, and they all kidded Courtney by saying how they were going to lose touch with their favorite soap operas because they wouldn’t have Courtney to fill them in anymore. Courtney laughed. She didn’t think it was funny, but she laughed to be polite.

Many of the doctors who treated her were there too. They all told Courtney how proud they were of her, and how she deserved all the credit for her recovery. Courtney appreciated their kind words. She was going to miss the doctors. They had saved her life. But as tearful as the occasion was, she wanted out of there. She wanted to go home.

When the party was over, everyone stood outside the front entrance of the small hospital. A long walkway led from the door to the street. Mr. Chetwynde pulled their Volvo station wagon to the bottom of the walkway, ready to bring his daughter home. He and Mrs. Chetwynde stood by the car and looked up at the two rows of nurses, doctors, and hospital staff that lined either side of the walk, waiting for her. The glass doors opened. Mark pushed Courtney outside in a wheelchair. Immediately the two rows of people applauded and cheered. But they hadn’t seen anything yet.

Courtney smiled and stood up. Mark handed her the metal walker that she had relied on for the past few weeks of therapy. He had attached a small horn with a black bulb on the end that blared out “Aooooga!” when Courtney squeezed it. He told her she needed it so she wouldn’t run anybody over. Courtney grasped the walker, moved it around in front of her, looked up at the cheering crowd, smiled . . . and tossed the walker away. The doctors and nurses went nuts. Mrs. Chetwynde let out a small worried gasp and moved toward Courtney, but Mr. Chetwynde stopped her.

“Let her do it,” he said.

Courtney was tentative, and stiff, but for the first time in seven weeks, she walked on her own. She walked stiffly past the cheering nurses, most of whom were crying happy tears for her. Even some of the doctors sniffled. Mark walked behind her, ready to jump in if she faltered.

She didn’t. Not even a little. Courtney Chetwynde had her wheels back.

Mark whispered, “You okay?”

Courtney gritted her teeth in a smile and whispered back, “I’m dyin’, but it feels great.”

“You look great,” Mark said.

Courtney made it all the way to the car, where her father helped her into the front seat. Mark and Mrs. Chetwynde hopped in back. With a final wave to the hospital staff, Courtney left Derby Falls, headed for home.

The ride was a very long three hours. Courtney wasn’t used to sitting up for so long, let alone on the hard seat of a car. Their Volvo was many years old, and to Courtney the seat felt like it was carved out of rock. She didn’t complain though. She was too happy to be going home. They arrived back in Stony Brook before dinnertime. Mrs. Chetwynde asked Mark if he’d like to stay and eat.

“C’mon,” Courtney said. “Let’s keep the party going.”

Mark called his mom to say he wouldn’t be home for dinner, and helped bring Courtney’s luggage into the house. The first thing Courtney did when she got inside was call out, “Winston! C’mon, Winnie.”

Instantly Courtney’s cat came running. Winston was a short-haired tortoiseshell, and in Courtney’s opinion, more dog than cat. Winston jumped into Courtney’s arms, purring like a lawn mower. Courtney buried her face in the kitty’s belly.

“Hmmm, I missed you, purr-face!” Courtney said.

She walked slowly through the house, looking around like she hadn’t been there in months. Which she hadn’t.

“Hasn’t changed a bit,” she declared. “Same furniture, same smells, same crummy old computer that we all have to fight over.” She said this last while pointing to an old monitor that was on a table in the living room. Mark noted that it looked to be about five years old, which in computer years is ten lifetimes.

“You know, Dad,” Courtney said. “If I’m going to be homeschooled for a couple of months, I’m not going to be able to sit on that hard chair down here, in front of that archaic old bucket of bolts you call a computer. I think we’re going to have to—”

Courtney stopped short when she saw that her father had lifted up a cardboard box from behind the couch that, by the look of the markings on it, contained a brand-new laptop.

“Wow,” Mark said. “That just came out!”

Mr. Chetwynde said, “And if Mark is impressed, I think you better be too, young lady.”

Courtney broke out in a smile and hugged her dad.

“I love you, Daddy,” she said.

“Welcome home, baby,” Mr. Chetwynde said.

It was at that exact moment, the moment when everything felt right again . . . that Mark’s ring began to twitch. He quickly clasped his hand over it and ran around behind Mr. Chetwynde so Courtney could see him.

“Uhh,” Mark said. “C-Courtney? Wh-Where’s the bathroom?”

Courtney said, “Same place it’s always been. Over by the—” She stopped short when she saw the look in Mark’s eyes. He held up his ring so Courtney could see that the gray stone had gone crystal and was starting to fire out light.

“Use mine upstairs,” she said quickly. “Bring my bags up with you, okay?”

“Y-Yeah, no problem,” Mark stammered. He ran for the entryway to the house, nearly tripping over Courtney’s bags. He grabbed one and stumbled for the stairs. He was about to turn up, when Mrs. Chetwynde appeared from around the other side of the stairs. Mark instantly turned his back to her, shielding the glowing ring.

“Need some help?” she asked sweetly.

“N-No, I got it!” Mark said quickly as he tripped up the stairs.

Mrs. Chetwynde shrugged and turned back toward the kitchen to start dinner. Mark made it up the stairs, hurried down the hallway to the last door on the left, which he knew was Courtney’s room, and dove inside. He had long ago gotten over the rush of actually stepping into a girl’s bedroom. Life had gone way beyond that. He dropped Courtney’s bag on the floor, closed the door, took off the ring, and put it on the floor. The ring had already begun to expand. It quickly grew to the size of a Frisbee, with flashing light spewing from the center and the familiar jumble of musical notes that Mark knew meant he was about to receive a delivery from another territory.

He had long ago gotten over the rush of seeing this, too.

It took only a few moments for the event to be over. The lights disappeared, the music ended, and the ring returned to normal. Sitting on the rug next to it was a journal. Like the journal before it, the rolled-up pages were bright yellow and tied with a purple ribbon. Mark stared at it on the floor. He may have gotten used to the ring opening up a pathway to the territories and depositing Bobby’s journals, but there was no way to be prepared for the news a journal would bring.

“Mail’s in,” Courtney said. She had made it to her room and poked her head inside the door. “Just like old times.”

Mark picked up the yellow pages. “Looks like it’s from Quillan,” he announced.

“The circus clown territory,” Courtney added. “I have no idea what’s up with that twisted place.”

“I think we’re about to find out,” Mark said. “Should we read it here? Now?”

Courtney entered the room, closed the door behind her, limped over to Mark, and grabbed the roll of pages. “I’ve been out of the loop for too long,” she said while pulling off the ribbon and unrolling the pages. “No way I’m going to wait.”

Mark smiled. They were together again. They had always read Bobby’s journals out loud to each other, except for when Courtney was hurting so bad. This felt good, for all sorts of reasons.

“You want me to start?” Courtney asked.

“Absolutely,” Mark said with a smile as he sat down on the bed.

Courtney hobbled over to the cushy easy chair that her father had moved up to her room, and settled in. She looked at the pages, ready to read.

“Courtney?” Mark said.

“Yeah?”

“Welcome back.”

Courtney smiled and began to read, “ ‘Journal number twenty-four. Quillan. I like to play games. Always have. . . . ’ ”