Pendragon - The Soldiers Of Halla Part 52

I think that made everybody feel better. None of us knew exactly how it was going to work out, but we trusted Uncle Press. If he said we'd still be together, I believed him. The fact that we had all seen our loved ones made it that much more believable. The sense of relief was obvious.

"You have all done well," Uncle Press said. "But your job isn't complete, and never will be. As with all the spirits of Solara, you will continue to guide the physical beings of Halla. You won't walk among them, but you will be with them. It's a wonderful experience. It is why we exist. Don't be afraid, be excited."

I was feeling less apprehensive, but I couldn't shake the sadness. I liked being Bobby Pendragon. I felt I was going to miss him in spite of Uncle Press's a.s.surances.

"It's time," Uncle Press said.

He looked to Elli. She never looked better, and I knew why. In spite of all that her daughter, Nevva, had done to help Saint Dane, in the end she played a major role in the salvation of Halla. For that reason, Elli was at peace. She looked around to each of us, smiled, and vanished.

Uncle Press turned to Siry.

Siry asked, "Will I ever see the Jakills again?"

"Whenever you like."

He was satisfied. He gave me a nod, and disappeared. Uncle Press looked to Patrick.

"I won't lie," Patrick said. "I'm crushed over what has become of my world. Of all the territories of Halla, it has fallen the farthest. It was so a perfect."

Uncle Press said, "There is no such thing as perfection. I have faith that it will rise again, and you should too."

Patrick nodded, and disappeared. I hoped he felt better.

Aja was next. "I'm actually looking forward to this. I like the idea of being all knowing and all seeing."

"Then you're going to the right place," Uncle Press said with a chuckle.

Aja couldn't vanish fast enough.

Kasha took a step forward and said, "I fear for the gars."

"Don't," Uncle Press said quickly. "They came a long way before Saint Dane interfered. They'll find their way again."

I called out, "I'm sorry, Kasha."

"For what?" she replied.

"I promised I'd return your ashes to Eelong."

She shrugged. "I understand, Pendragon. Maybe in another life." With that, she smiled, and was gone.

Next was Spader. "It's been quite the adventure!" he said with a laugh.

"Hey!" I called to him. "Maybe they have sn.i.g.g.e.rs in Solara!"

Spader's eyes widened. He hadn't thought of that. "Last one there buys!" he exclaimed, and was gone. Uncle Press turned to Gunny.

"I've lived a long life here," he said. "Longer than any of my young friends. And you know something? I'm looking forward to seeing what's next."

"You won't be disappointed," Uncle Press said.

Gunny looked at me with that warm, knowing smile I had grown to love so much. His eyes seemed to twinkle with excitement.

"I love you all," he said. "Thanks for carrying an old man through."

And he was gone.

Alder came over to me. The two of us hugged. "I am proud to say that you are my brother," he said. "There have been so many events. So many battles. So many choices. We all played a role. But if not for you, Halla would be lost. That is a simple fact."

I didn't know what to say. I had all I could do to hold back tears. He pulled away from me and said, "I look forward to the next adventure with you, Pendragon."

With that, Alder vanished.

It was down to Loor. She stood on the far side of the star from where I was. Slowly she walked forward and stopped in front of me.

"I had many doubts," she said. "When we first met, I thought you were useless and weak."

"I was," I pointed out.

"No, you were not," she corrected. "You were confused, as we all were. I came to the truth quickly. You were the light, Pendragon. You were the soul. You put aside your fears, which is the most difficult thing of all to do. It is easy to be a warrior. It is far more difficult to inspire. You, Bobby Pendragon, were my inspiration."

We hugged. My feelings for Loor ran deep.

I said, "You challenged and pushed and helped me become the Traveler I needed to be."

"I would do it again without hesitation," she said. "And perhaps if given another chance, I would kiss you that night in the rain."

"Promise?" I said.

Loor gave me a rare smile. She looked at Uncle Press. He winked at her. She took a step back. The warrior girl from Zadaa was gone.

I was alone with Uncle Press. The two of us stood together on the Ravinian star. No, the star that marked the gates to the flumes.

"So!" he said with a crooked smile, suddenly acting like the Uncle Press I had grown up with and loved so much. "I wasn't lying. I told you some people needed our help."

"Yeah, but you didn't mention it was every last person who ever existed or would ever exist. You left out that little detail."

He chuckled. "Would you have gone with me if I told you that?"

"h.e.l.l, no!" I exclaimed.

The two of us laughed. I was brought back to that night so long ago when Uncle Press came to take me away from home and begin the incredible journey that's about to come to a close.

"I need more time," I said.

"For what?" he asked, puzzled.

"I have to finish my journal. It won't be complete until I write about what happened here, with everyone returning to Solara. Gotta finish the story, right?"

Uncle Press nodded. "Okay. I'll wait."

I started to walk back toward my room when Uncle Press called, "Bobby?"

I turned to him.

"I am in absolute awe of what you've done," he said sincerely.

I shrugged. "Yeah, me too."

We both chuckled at that. I started walking again, but stopped. Something was bugging me. I wasn't planning on talking about it. but I couldn't help mvself.

"You know," I said, "I'm okay with things. Mostly. I don't regret having gone with you that night and making the sacrifices and fighting a battle I never asked for. I get it. I understand why we were created the way we were, and were given lives, and became part of our own territories. It all makes sense." "But?"

"But it doesn't seem fair. We all went to war for what we learned to love on our home territories. That's what drove us. You know that. It's why we were prepared the way we were. We were defined by our lives. We loved our homes. We loved them so much that we were willing to leave it all behind to protect them. And what are we getting in return? We lose the very lives we fought so hard to save." I shrugged sadly. "I get it, but it just doesn't seem fair."

"Bobby Pendragon will always be part of you," he said.

"I guess. But he's a guy whose life ended at fourteen years of age, just before the biggest basketball game of his life. He'll never know how that game would have come out. Or if Courtney really liked him. Or a million other things. Kind of sad, don't you think?"

Uncle Press frowned. He started to speak, but stopped. He was the guy who had all the answers.

But not this one.

"You're right," he said sadly. "It isn't fair."

I nodded, happy that I had at least told him how I felt. "It's weird," I added. "After jumping around through so many centuries, my only wish is that we had a little more time."

I left Uncle Press standing alone on the star.

I had to finish my writing. The journals had been a constant companion throughout my journey. They kept me focused. They helped me a.n.a.lyze things that didn't seem clear at first. They let me blow off steam. Writing them helped me do what I had to do.

They helped me save Halla.

Now I'm writing the final words. I don't know who might read this someday. Maybe n.o.body. But if you come across my story, please know that what happened to me, to us, was a wonderful thing. We proved that the power of the human spirit is supreme. It will always triumph, no matter what the adversity. There are no simple answers in life. There is good and bad in everyone and everything. No decision is made without consequence. No road is taken that doesn't lead to another. What's important is that those roads always be kept open, for there's no telling what wonder they might lead to.

For the last time, I write the words, "And so we go." It's my way of saying that I'm prepared for the next adventure. The next chapter. The next challenge. Whatever comes my way, I'm ready for it.

Because that truly is the way it was meant to be.

END OF JOURNAL #37.

THE FINAL JOURNAL OF BOBBY PENDRAGON.

The door opened slowly.

Standing there nervously leaning on the frame was Courtney Chetwynde. The glorious Courtney Chetwynde. The girl with the amazing gray eyes that Bobby had known since he was in kindergarten. She never failed to take his breath away.

"Yo," Bobby said, trying to sound cool.

He immediately regretted it. n.o.body said "Yo" unless they were trying to impersonate Sylvester Stallone, and n.o.body tried to impersonate Sylvester Stallone anymore. n.o.body even remembered who he was.

"Yo?" Courtney snickered. "What does that mean?"

Courtney always kept Bobby on his toes. It was one of the things he liked about her. One of the many things.

"It means whatever you want it to mean. I'm always saying interesting things, you know that."

"I do, unfortunately."

Courtney stepped into the room. She looked at the overhead light and squinted. "So bright. What are you doing in here? Growing geraniums?"

She clicked off the overhead, dropping the room into shadows cast by the light from a single table lamp.

"What are you doing? Trying to get romantic on me?" "You wish."

Bobby chuckled. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm not welcome?"

Bobby didn't have to answer.

"I couldn't sleep," she said.

Courtney was nervous. That wasn't like her. Bobby sensed it instantly.

"What's up?" he asked sincerely.

Courtney had trouble looking Bobby in the eye. She had something to say, that much was obvious. She wanted to choose the right words.

"It's just that," she began hesitantly, "I want to tell you something. I have the odd feeling that if I don't do it now, I might not get another chance."

"Oooh, sounds ominous," Bobby joked. Courtney frowned.

Bobby backed off. "Sorry. What do you want to tell me?" Courtney took a deep breath and said, "I just wanted to say a I love you."

Bobby waited for something more. It didn't come.

"Yeah, and?" he asked.

"What? That's not enough?" she shot back.

"Well, no, it's fine. I just don't understand why you had such trouble getting it out. It's not like you haven't told me once or twice a or a few thousand times."

Courtney reached out and took Bobby's hands. Bobby looked at them. As always, he was surprised by the sight. He was always surprised when he was reminded of things he had deliberately chosen to ignore. Seeing what his hands had become was always a shock.

They were once strong and large enough to palm a basketball. Now he had trouble steadying a cup of tea a when he was allowed to have tea. Which wasn't often. His hands had grown smaller. Wine-colored spots appeared on the backs of them with growing regularity. His skin seemed gray, though he knew that wasn't possible. He felt as if he needed some sun, but he didn't spend much time out of doors anymore. It wasn't allowed.

In his mind he was still a young, vital guy who strode boldly through life with confidence and good humor. The confidence and humor were still there, but he was no longer a young man. At least not physically. In his dreams he could still run with the joy of youth. He was never quite sure when he was dreaming anymore. Or sleeping, for that matter. The hours blended together. Time was irrelevant. In his mind he was another person. The person he used to be. Of course, that wasn't really the case. He made a point of not looking into mirrors much. Or ever.