The Quillan Games (14 page)

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.