He was there.
I knew it. I felt it. I knew where to find him. For the first time I understood how he always seemed to know where I was and what I was doing. I could sense him. I don’t know how else to say it.
Our success in taking over the Conclave of Ravinia had far greater meaning than the conquering of a fortress. We were gaining strength. The spirit of Solara was returning. It came from the selfless efforts of a group of people who, in storming the walls of Ravinia, had seized control of their own destiny. It’s hard to describe this feeling, but it came from the core of my being. I felt stronger. I felt hope. I didn’t think for a second that the battle was over, but as I ran through the conclave, for the first time in a very long while, I thought that there was a chance we might actually turn the tide. We were no longer fighting a losing battle.
As I sprinted through the parklike grounds of the conclave, I saw very few Ravinians. Those who made an appearance looked terrified. Their perfect world was threatened, so they ran and hid inside their opulent homes and peered out of their windows in fear. I realized that my concern that they might step up to defend themselves was unfounded. They didn’t have it in them. It made my confidence grow. This was the true legacy of Ravinia. They were cowards who hid behind the power of their mentor.
Saint Dane.
This wouldn’t be over until Saint Dane’s influence ended. For that, his spirit had to end. I was racing toward a showdown. I had suspected it would come to this for a long time. I feared it. I tried to ignore it. I hoped there would be some other way.
I was kidding myself.
This day had to come. It was inevitable. From the very beginning, this conflict was about a battle between two forces. Two ways of thinking. Two spirits. Saint Dane…and me.
It was time to end it.
I ran to the center of the conclave and to the spot where I knew he would be. The Taj Mahal. When I got my first view of the majestic building, I noticed a change. There were no Ravinian guards. They must all have been sent to the front wall to defend the conclave. Which meant they were history. I sprinted along the fountains, through the manicured grounds and up the steps, near where I had seen Mark executed. Or his dado double executed. Either way, it wasn’t a happy memory, and it only got me more fired up for what was to come. I strode boldly inside. There was nothing secretive about my visit. I wanted him to know I was there. I went straight to the center of the building, where I knew the red-carpeted stairs would lead up to the platform that held his golden throne. The throne of a king who was losing his kingdom.
There he sat. Alone. As much as I knew I would find him there, I was surprised when I actually saw him. He had changed. Gone was the long, dark hair and youthful appearance. Saint Dane now looked as he did the very first day I met him. His long hair had gone gray. His face had aged. He still wore the rich, red clothing of a Ravinian king, but he looked small inside the elaborate robe. He sat slumped in the chair, looking like an old man. Looking beaten. Not that I needed more proof, but it confirmed that the spirit of Solara was rising. And Saint Dane’s was waning.
“You shouldn’t be hanging around inside on such a nice day,” I called to him. “You’re missing a hell of a show.”
He didn’t react. I wasn’t sure if he even heard me. His eyes stared straight ahead, vacant. It didn’t matter. He could have looked as if he were dead, and I still wouldn’t have let my guard down. If Saint Dane was anything, he was unpredictable. Like they say about wild animals, they’re the most dangerous when they feel trapped and threatened.
“We know the dado army is coming back,” I said, taunting. “We’re ready for them. That must have taken a heck of a lot of spirit out of you to be moving so many of them around Halla like that. Is that why you look like hell? Is your dark power almost gone? Hmmm?”
His eyes moved a fraction to focus on me. In spite of the fact that he looked old and tired, his blue-white eyes still burned. He wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.
“Is that what Nevva told you?” he said with a low growl. “The way to defeat me was to deplete the spirit we worked so hard to build?”
“More or less,” I answered casually. “Pretty good advice, don’t you think?”
“She betrayed me,” he said with a barely perceptible whisper.
“You betrayed yourself,” I shot back.
His eyes flared. He didn’t budge, but his eyes sparkled with rage.
“It took me a while to realize this, but you know what? You never had a chance.”
“I control Halla,” he hissed.
“Controlled. Past tense. Big difference.”
“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 weak—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 cocked 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 vision—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 feet—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 noble 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 noble 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 masses. I think the truth is that you envy the people of Halla. You want to be their king. You want to be their god. 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 uncreate 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 crashing 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…
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 back….
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 crap out of me. With each punch it seemed as if a lightning bolt flashed. Or maybe it was just that I was seeing stars…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 massive 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 space 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…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 flashing 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 shirt, 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…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 shifted 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 goal—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. I 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.