The Lost City of Faar | Chapter 22 of 37 - Part: 1 of 8

Author: D.J. MacHale | Submitted by: Maria Garcia | 29349 Views | Add a Review

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“You naughty boys, you sank my battleship,” Saint Dane said playfully, as if he really didn’t care.

Spader looked to me and to Uncle Press. I think he was in shock. Nothing had prepared him for seeing Saint Dane transform the way he did. I wasn’t exactly comfortable with it either, but at least I had seen it before so I didn’t go into total mind lock.

“The poison fertilizer?” asked Uncle Press. “Was it your doing?”

Saint Dane let out an evil laugh. Here we go again. I hate it when the bad guys laugh. It always means they know more than you do.

“You give me too much credit, Press, my friend,” Saint Dane said. “You know I don’t initiate anything.”

“But you don’t mind helping it along,” Uncle Press added.

“Of that, I am guilty. That weasel Manoo and his agronomers would have abandoned their experiments years ago if I hadn’t convinced them otherwise. It was so easy to feed their egos. I told them they would be heroes for saving Cloral from starvation for generations to come!” He laughed ironically. “They were too blinded by visions of glory to realize they were brewing up the means to kill every living soul on the territory. Surprise!”

“So you did kill my father,” Spader spat at Saint Dane.

“Indirectly, I suppose,” Saint Dane said, beginning to sound bored. “But we’re all much better off with one less Traveler, don’t you think?”

This pushed Spader over the edge. He lunged at Saint Dane, ready to grab his throat. But Saint Dane pulled a quick draw from under his coat and jammed a silver pistol into Spader’s chest, stopping him cold. Spader’s eyes were wild with hatred, but there was nothing he could do.

“Talk to Pendragon,” Saint Dane said calmly. “He knows you can’t defeat me.”

“No?” I jumped in. “What about Denduron?”

Saint Dane turned to look at me for the first time. His cold blue eyes gave me a chill.

“A minor inconvenience,” he said. “This game has only begun, Pendragon.”

“Game?” shouted Spader. “You killed hundreds of people. This isn’t a game!”

“But of course it is,” answered Saint Dane. And with that he began to transform again. His body grew liquid, he shrank slightly, and when the change was complete, standing before us was Zy Roder, the raider pilot.

“This is very much a game,” he said with a different, raspier voice. “And the stakes are high indeed!”

At that moment the door flew open from the hallway and several more raiders entered the apartment. They all held silver guns like the one Roder/Saint Dane had. Any thoughts we had about escaping had just gotten very dim.

“Now,” said Roder/Saint Dane. “I have a question for you. Tell me what you know about this place called ‘Faar.’”

We all did our best not to look at each other.

“Faar is a children’s story,” Spader finally answered. “What is it you want to know?”

Roder/Saint Dane jammed his silver gun into Spader’s chest, making him wince in pain.

“Please don’t waste my time trying to be coy,” Roder/Saint Dane said. “I saw the symbol of Faar on your father’s desk.”

“I knew that he’d been searching for Faar,” he continued. “But when I saw the symbol, I knew he’d been successful.”

“You were there?” I said, stunned. “On Magorran?”

“To be precise, Po Nassi was there,” he chuckled. “Only seconds before you three arrived.”

I got the feeling that Saint Dane loved fooling people with his little charades.


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Great book, nicely written and thank you BooksVooks for uploading

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