Black Water Page 8

  We had stepped into the middle of an argument. It wasn’t chaotic, but it was close. Cats were yelling at each other, throwing up their hands for emphasis. Everybody was talking at once so I couldn’t make out what anybody was saying. Whatever it was, emotions were definitely running high.

  “Who’s the guy on the stage?” I whispered to Boon.

  “Ranjin, the viceroy of Leeandra,” he answered.

  Viceroy. I guessed that meant he was the boss. But the boss wasn’t getting much respect. He held his paws up, calling for order, but nobody paid attention. Ranjin kept his cool, though. He glanced back to one of the cats in red, who was sitting politely, not joining in the argument. The cat nodded and lifted what looked like a carved, wooden horn to his mouth. He blew into it, sending out a long, low note. At the same time Ranjin raised his wooden staff over his head. Immediately the crowd grew quiet and looked to Ranjin. When he spoke, it was with a soft, calm voice that showed he was used to being in charge.

  “What exactly is it that we are proposing here?” he said. “The repeal of Edict Forty-six?”

  The cats all looked at one another nervously, as if none wanted to answer. I leaned close to Boon and whispered, “What’s Edict Forty-six?”

  Boon looked straight ahead, deliberately not answering.

  “Boon?” I pressed. “What is Edict Forty-six?”

  Boon sighed and said, “It’s the law that forbids klees to hunt and eat gars.”

  Gulp.

  “And they’re thinking of getting rid of it?” I asked nervously.

  “Yes,” he answered. “You still want to risk getting picked up by the Stray Division?”

  I was really starting to hate Eelong.

  JOURNAL #16

  (CONTINUED)

  EELONG

  “We are not barbarians,” Ranjin said with passion. “Edict Forty-six is what separates klees from the beasts of the jungle. As long as I am viceroy I will not allow this to happen.”

  Good man, Ranjin. Or good cat. Whatever.

  “Then what do you suggest?” a cat shouted from the crowd. “The situation is getting worse. We can no longer grow enough food to feed our own young, let alone the gars.”

  Another cat jumped up and shouted, “Their numbers are growing daily. They have no concern for our society; they are savages.”

  I was beginning to realize why Boon wanted me to hear this. He wanted me to hear, firsthand, that humans weren’t treated well here. Heck, they weren’t even treated as well as cats on Second Earth. At least we didn’t need laws to stop us from eating them. The more I heard, the less I minded being tied to Boon. That leash was starting to feel like a lifeline.

  One of the cats in red who shared the stage with Ranjin stepped up to the viceroy. He bowed to the older cat respectfully. Ranjin nodded as if giving him permission to address the crowd.

  “Who’s that?” I whispered.

  “His name is Timber,” Boon answered. “He’s one of the Council of Klee.”

  Timber, Ranjin, Boon, Seegen . . . I was in another one-name territory. How does that work? How many names have to be handed out before last names kick in?

  “The Council of Klee gives advice to the viceroy,” Boon continued. “But all decisions are the viceroy’s to make.”

  That was good. From what I’d heard so far, the viceroy didn’t want to declare open season on humans.

  “Fellow Leeandrans,” Timber began. “It is clear that we are in difficult times.”

  The big cat spoke with confidence. He had dark brown fur, with thousands of black spots, like a leopard. His mane was long, and it looked as if he actually combed it. How’s that for an image? A big jungle cat with a slick hairdo? Amazing.

  “Not one of us here today welcomes the idea of turning back the clock and returning to the ways of our primitive ancestors. Hunting gars has been outlawed for generations. The gars have become valuable to our very existence. Not just here in Leeandra, but throughout Eelong. Besides providing manual labor, they aid in our protection when traveling on the jungle floor. Some have even become beloved pets, family members, if you will.”

  The spotted cat was making it sound as if gars were pampered lapdogs. From what I had seen so far, it wasn’t like that at all. But if this cat’s speech was going to keep the cats from hunting humans, as far as I was concerned, Timber could spin the situation any way he wanted.

  “However,” Timber continued. “There are times when higher intentions must give way to harsh realities. The production of our farms can no longer keep up with the growing population of both klees and gars. At this rate, we will soon reach a point where there are dangerous shortages. We are always trying to find new ways to increase our yield, but even with the great strides we’ve made, we cannot keep up with the exploding gar population. I hate to say this in such dire terms, but soon there will not be enough food to go around.”

  Uh-oh. His speech was taking a bad turn.

  “One of the beauties of our society is that we welcome free and open debate. We are encouraged to challenge our leaders in constructive ways. It is what has made Leeandra the most powerful city in Eelong, and I’m sure we all want it to remain that way. That is why I challenge the opinion of our esteemed viceroy.”

  His passion was growing, and so was the enthusiasm of his audience. Suddenly I wasn’t liking Timber so much.

  “As important as it is to keep sight of our loftier ideals,” he continued, “noble intentions cannot take importance over our very survival!”

  The crowd of cats cheered him on. Timber was feeding off their energy. This was looking very bad. I started to sweat.

  “I for one cannot sit idly by and see our children go hungry in order for some lowly animals to fill their own bellies.”

  A big cheer. Public opinion was on his side. Being the only gar in the room, I was feeling pretty uncomfortable. I glanced to Boon. He wouldn’t look at me. I looked to Ranjin, the viceroy. He stood firm, with his feet planted. He didn’t seem angry, though I wasn’t entirely sure what an angry cat looked like. Would he hiss? Would his ears go back?

  “This is why I pledge to you today that I will use whatever humble influence I have on the Council of Klee to repeal Edict Forty-six until we have devised a way to increase our food supply. I believe the choice here is simple, my fellow Leeandrans. If it comes down to the survival of our race, I say: Let them eat gar!”

  Yikes. The crowd jumped to their feet with wild applause. It was like one of those political conventions you see on TV. I half expected balloons to start falling from the ceiling. My stomach turned. In a few short minutes I had gone from being insulted by having to wear a leash, to understanding that gars were treated worse than gerbils, to fearing it might soon be hunting season on gars . . . and like it or not, I was a gar. I looked back to the stage to see what Ranjin’s reaction was to Timber’s speech. What I saw made my blood freeze.

  The klees in the audience were on their feet, stomping and clapping. On the stage, the red-robed Council of Klee all stood, calmly discussing something with Ranjin. They didn’t seem upset or caught up in the emotion of the moment. But that’s not what I focused on. My eyes went right to the big cat named Timber. I expected him to be on the edge of the stage, waving his arms to whip the crowd into a frenzy. But he wasn’t. This cat stood by himself, away from the others. He didn’t face the Council of Klee. He didn’t face the crowd.

  He was looking directly at me.

  His gaze was solid and cold, like a predator who had located its prey. In some ways, that’s what it was. I had been here before . . . and so had he.

  “We gotta get outta here,” I said to Boon.

  “Let’s wait till things calm down,” he said.

  “No!” I shouted. “Now!” I yanked my leash and pulled Boon toward the doorway. Boon quickly jumped in front of me. I’m sure he didn’t want to be seen being led by a gar. It didn’t matter to me. We had to get out of there. We got halfway through the large room when a crowd of klees spilled
in front of us, laughing and cheering.

  “Boon!” one cat yelled. It was the same cat who had chased the quig back in the tree with the flume. “You made it back in time!”

  “Can’t talk now!” Boon said as he tried to pull me through the crowd.

  “But this is history!” The cat grabbed Boon and tried to pull him into the crowd. Boon struggled to get away, but these guys weren’t letting him go.

  Boon complained, “I need to bring my gar—”

  “Forget the gar!” the cat said. He yanked the leash out of Boon’s paw and tied me to a railing along the wall. “He’ll be here when you get back . . . if he’s lucky!” The cat laughed. He and the others grabbed Boon and pulled him into the crowd. Boon glanced at me, helpless. He was swept away in a jumble of fur and whiskers. Now I was alone . . . and trapped in a room full of predator cats who were getting all sorts of psyched about eating humans. As bad as that was, there was something that worried me more.

  I heard the voice before I saw him. “Welcome to Eelong, Pendragon,” he said calmly. “I trust you enjoyed my performance.”

  JOURNAL #16

  (CONTINUED)

  EELONG

  I didn’t have to look. I knew who it was. He may have taken the form of a jungle cat named Timber, but I knew the truth.

  “Hello, Saint Dane,” I said. Trying to sound as if I wasn’t surprised, or scared—because I was both. “You really must be getting desperate.” I turned around to see him standing a few feet from me. He stood on two feet, staring down at me like some lowly bug. It was Saint Dane, all right.

  “And why would you say that?” he asked.

  “I can’t change myself into a klee like you,” I said. “It gives you an unfair advantage here. But maybe that’s the only way you can beat me.”

  Saint Dane chuckled. “Oh, so brash for a young Traveler who failed so miserably on Veelox.”

  It took all my willpower not to scream at this creep. I didn’t want to let him know that he was getting to me, which he was. “What have you done here?” I asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” he replied. “The word has such a nice ring to it, no?”

  “What word?” I asked, not really sure I wanted to hear the answer.

  “Genocide,” Saint Dane said with finality.

  “Genocide?” I repeated. “You want to wipe out the gars? Why? Aren’t the gars like animals here? Wiping them out would be horrible, but not exactly a turning point for the territory.”

  “Ahh, but you’re wrong,” Saint Dane said. “The gars are much more integral to life on Eelong than the klees realize. Without the gars, the tangs will have no prey. It will only be a matter of time before those vicious lizards become desperate enough to rise up against the klees. The klees may be the superior race on Eelong, but they are no match for the tangs. So when I speak of genocide, the gars are simply the first step in the cycle of destruction.”

  It was a chilling thought. Saint Dane was monkeying with the food chain on Eelong. If he succeeded, the hunters would become the hunted, and Eelong would be left to a race of mindless, carnivorous dinosaurs . . . and he would have his second territory.

  “You never told me your plan before. Why now?” I asked.

  Saint Dane, or Timber as he called himself here, looked me in the eye. It took everything I had not to look away.

  “Things have changed, Pendragon,” he said with confidence. “As I said, once the first territory falls, the rest will topple like dominos. Veelox is on a path to destruction, thanks to your failure. My power is growing. Nothing is as it was. The order that ruled the territories is crumbling, and so is Halla.” He backed away and added, “Which reminds me, it’s time to pay a visit to your friends on Second Earth. What are their names? Oh yes, Mark and Courtney.”

  Hearing that, there was no way I could keep my cool anymore.

  “Leave them alone!” I shouted. “They aren’t Travelers. They have nothing to do with this.”

  “Everyone has a role in our little drama, Pendragon,” Saint Dane shot back. “It’s their turn. But don’t blame me. It was you who chose them. I wonder how they’ll use their new power.”

  “Power? What power?” I asked. “What’s happened?”

  Saint Dane backed toward the door. “Like I said, the walls are crumbling. I’ll give them your regards.” He held up a rotten, cloth bag and said, “Along with a small token from our friend Gunny.” With that he turned and walked quickly for the door.

  “Saint Dane!” I shouted, but it was useless. The big cat dropped down on all fours and sprang forward, leaping out of the doorway.

  He was headed for the flume. For Second Earth. For you guys.

  I knew I couldn’t stop him, but you two had to be warned. I yanked at the leash, desperate to get loose and chase after the demon. All I did was pull the knot tighter. Idiot. Thankfully Boon came back.

  “What are you doing?” he asked nervously. “Everybody’s watching you!”

  “It’s Saint Dane,” I said frantically. “Timber is Saint Dane.”

  “What?” Boon said, confused. “Timber has been on the Council of Klee since, well, since forever.”

  “Then Saint Dane has been here forever,” I answered quickly. “Or he got rid of the real Timber and took his place. I told you, he can turn into whatever he wants, and he wants to be on the Council of Klee. That’s what he does. He slimes himself into a territory and manipulates people and . . . now he’s going after my friends on Second Earth. We’ve got to get back to the flume!”

  “Maybe we should find Seegen first and—”

  “No! We don’t have time!”

  Boon must have seen the desperation in my eyes. With one quick move he flashed one of his sharp claws and sliced through the leash. “Let’s go,” he said, all business. He grabbed the cut end of the leash for show, and the two of us ran out of the Circle of Klee. Good cat.

  “I gotta beat him to the flume,” I announced.

  “If he’s on the run, you’ll never catch him,” Boon warned.

  “You gotta get me there, Boon,” I said, not caring that other cats were watching us curiously. The thought flashed that I could jump on Boon’s back and ride him to the flume, but Boon had another idea. He led me to an elevator platform and to my surprise, we went down . . . to the jungle floor.

  “Whoa, isn’t this dangerous?”

  “You want to get there fast?” he asked. “This is the way.”

  We hit the ground, and Boon ran across the jungle beneath the trees. He stayed on two feet so I’d be able to keep up. But he was still faster than I was. It didn’t help my speed any that I kept looking around, expecting a tang to leap out of a bush and start chewing on my butt.

  “Don’t worry. It’s pretty safe inside Leeandra,” Boon said without slowing down. “There are guards everywhere. We won’t be in any real danger until we leave the city.”

  Good. No worries . . . for now. Boon led me to a tall fence made of bamboo that was around ten feet high. There was an opening with two klees standing guard. Boon ran up to one and said breathlessly, “I need a zenzen.”

  The guard answered, “What’s your rush? The wippen tournament is over.”

  “And those guys from the north made us look bad,” Boon said, thinking fast. “I want the extra practice.”

  The guard stepped aside and said, “Good! They aren’t better than us, they just train more.”

  “Exactly!” Boon replied. “Watch my gar, would you?”

  That was me. Boon ran inside the gate, leaving me alone. I stood in front of the two guards, feeling all sorts of vulnerable. I almost whistled casually, but figured that would have been a little suspicious. I looked to the ground but still felt their eyes on me. I really hoped they weren’t hungry.

  “What is that smell?” one klee asked the other in disgust.

  “The gar,” the other guard snarled. “Filthy animal. Don’t they ever clean themselves?”

  The first klee walked up to me. I could feel his br
eath, but didn’t dare look up.

  “Nice shoes,” the klee said. “My hunting gar could use those.”

  “So get him a pair like that,” the second guard said.

  “I didn’t say he could use a pair like that,” the first guard corrected. “I said he could use those!”

  Before I knew what was happening, the klee grabbed me around the neck, choking me.

  “Take them!” he ordered the second klee.

  The other guard quickly yanked off my shoes. I didn’t fight. There were bigger problems to deal with than losing a pair of torn-up cloth shoes. Besides, I didn’t want them to bite me. A few long seconds later, I heard the sound of hoofs. The klee guard let go of me and I gasped for breath. I saw Boon trotting up on the back of an incredibly strange-looking horse. I now realized that this tall fence was actually a corral. The animal Boon called a “zenzen” was dark orange, and sort of looked like a regular old Second Earth horse, except that it had impossibly long legs. That’s because each leg had an extra joint. I’m serious. Imagine a horse leg, then add a whole ’nother section that was about two feet long, complete with an extra joint, and you’d have what they called a zenzen. It moved strangely, like a spider. But it was definitely a horse.

  “C’mon, gar!” Boon shouted to me, as if he were calling a dog. “Good boy, let’s go!”

  I was totally humiliated, but had to play along. I walked over to the zenzen and looked up at Boon. It’s tough enough climbing up onto a regular old horse, but this thing was another few feet higher. Boon reached down and held out his paw.

  “C’mon boy, grab on,” Boon commanded.

  I gave him a dirty look and reached with my hand. Boon grabbed it and pulled me up like a doll. Man, he was strong. He plunked me down in back of him, just behind the saddle.

  “Not bad!” one of the klee guards said. “You got that one trained pretty good!”

  “But you gotta wash him down,” the other said. “He stinks.”

  “And get him some shoes!” the first guard added with an obnoxious chuckle.