Uncle Press looked uncomfortable. I think he knew exactly where they were, but for some reason he didn't want to say.

"Spader, I'll tell you the same thing I told Bobby when he found out his own family was gone," he said calmly. "You were always destined to become a Traveler. Your family was here to raise you and teach you and help you become the person you are today so that you could begin your journey. But they've begun a journey of their own now. Someday you'll see them again, I promise."

"What about my father?" demanded Spader. "He didn't go anywhere. He was killed!"

"He was a Traveler," answered Uncle Press. "He had other duties. I promise you both, as time goes on you will understand everything, but for right now, you must know that nothing horrible happened to your mother."

This was bringing up all sorts of old, horrible feelings in me. I was getting frustrated over not knowing all there was to know about being a Traveler. I could only imagine what Spader was feeling. This was still very new to him. We stood in the room for a few moments, then Spader suddenly ran farther into the apartment. We followed him as he ran through the empty home, into what was probably once a bedroom at one time.

He stood in the middle of the room and said, "This was my room. I lived here from the time I was born until I left to become an aquaneer. I don't believe that my entire childhood can be wiped away as if it never existed."

He went into a closet. "Pendragon, help me," he said. I shrugged and followed.

"Help me up?" he asked.

I clasped my hands together and held them out. Spader put his foot in and I hoisted him up.

"I had a hiding place n.o.body knew about," he said while running his hands along the wall over the closet door. "It is where I kept the things that were most important to me."

I felt bad for him. Spader was doing the same thing I did when I walked onto the empty lot at 2 Linden Place. I looked over every inch of that empty s.p.a.ce, desperate for any sign that proved I had lived there. But there was nothing. Even the scar on the tree that had been made by our swing was gone. I knew that Spader's secret hiding place would be empty.

Over the closet door was a piece of wall that had been neatly cut out and replaced. Spader knew exactly where it was. He pulled away the piece and reached into the compartment. Of course it was empty. I could tell by the pained look on his face.

But then, just as he was about to climb down, his face changed. He had found something after all.

"Let me down," he ordered.

I awkwardly bent down and dropped his foot. He banged his shoulder against the door frame as he came down, but he was okay.

"What did you find?" I asked. I couldn't believe that some hint of his past life had actually been left behind.

Spader held the treasure in his hand.

I knew instantly that it wasn't something he put there himself. It was a piece of green paper, folded in half. Written on the outside in black letters was: "For Spader. I'm proud of you and I love you. Hobey-ho!" I could only guess that it was his mum's handwriting.

Spader unfolded the paper and I saw his mum's final gift to him. It was the other half of the map that led to the lost city of Faar.

"She may be gone," he said softly. "But I guess her job wasn't finished until I got this."

"h.e.l.lo? Anyone home?"

The bright voice came from the entrance to the apartment. It was a woman's voice. For a moment I thought Spader's mother had returned. Spader did too. He ran for the entrance. Uncle Press and I were right behind.

But when we got there, we saw that it wasn't Spader's mother after all. It was Po Na.s.si, the agronomer. What was she doing here?

"Here you boys are! Why did you run off like that?" she asked like a scolding but jovial schoolteacher.

"Why aren't you with Yenza and Manoo?" asked Uncle Press.

"Those two are on a futile quest," she answered with a huff. "My time is better spent elsewhere."

This was weird. Had she followed us?

"Now," she said. "Young Spader. Did you find what you came for?"

Spader answered her with a confused look. Uncle Press and I did the same. What was she talking about?

"I didn't think it was possible, myself," she explained. "Like all you wet little Clorans, I thought the lost city of Faar was a myth. That is, until I saw the symbol your father had drawn for you. He was a resourceful Traveler. I'm guessing he discovered the city was real and knew its location. Now I think you know it too."

Uh-oh. Uncle Press stiffened beside me. The hair began to stand up on my neck. I was afraid I knew exactly where this was going and it was a very, very bad place.

"How could you know?" Spader asked, dumbfounded. He had no clue what was going on, but he was about to find out.

Na.s.si looked to Uncle Press and gave him a catlike grin.

"Ahh, Press. Don't you just love them when they're young?" she asked. "Sucha innocence."

And then it happened. The agronomer Na.s.si began to transform before our eyes. Her face contorted, her body shifted, her whole figure grew watery and unformed. It only took about five seconds, but I guarantee they were five seconds that Spader would replay in his mind for the rest of his life. I probably would too, but I had seen it before. Her hair grew long and gray. Her body rose to a solid seven feet tall. Her clothes changed from Cloral blue to the black suit that was all too familiar. And again, what stood out most were the eyes. They became icy blue and charged with an evil fire.

"Does it make more sense to you now, water boy?" snarled the tall, ominous figure.

Spader looked at me with total confusion.

"It's Saint Dane," I said with no emotion. "He's been playing with us all along."

CLORAL.

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 youdidkill 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 Na.s.si was there," he chuckled. "Only seconds before you three arrived."

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

I really hated this guy.

He then looked directly into Spader's eyes and said, "Your father discovered Faar and pa.s.sed the information to you, didn't he?"

Spader didn't move. He wasn't about to give Roder/Saint Dane the two pieces of map. No way. But Roder/Saint Dane flashed forward with his free hand and grabbed Spader around the neck. Both Uncle Press and I made a move to stop him, but the other raiders jumped between us, holding us back.

"Tell me," Roder/Saint Dane seethed. His strength was incredible because he lifted Spader off the ground with only one hand. "Tell me what you know, or I'll first kill Pendragon, then Press, and then I'll go back to Grallion and see what mischief we can get into there. The only one I won't kill is you. You'll have to live knowing they died because you wouldn't tell me what I will find out soon enough anyway."

Spader was turning blue. Both Uncle Press and I struggled to get away from the raiders, but it was no use. There was nothing we could do to help Spader.

Then, slowly, Spader reached into his pocket for the map.

"Don't!" I shouted. But it was too late. Spader pulled out the two map halves and tossed them on the ground. Instantly Roder/Saint Dane threw him down and Spader collapsed on the floor, gasping for breath. Another raider picked up the two pieces of paper and handed them to Roder/Saint Dane. The evil Traveler held the two pieces together and studied them for a few seconds.

He then let out a smile and said, "It's so simple. Thank you, Spader. Now Cloral has absolutely no hope of fighting off the plague I've nurtured for so long."

Huh? What did a mythical lost city have to do with the killer fertilizer that was spreading across the territory?

Boom! Agunshot sounded from out in the hallway that sent the raiders scrambling for cover. I can't believe I acted as fast as I did, but in the one second of confusion, I lunged forward and grabbed the two pieces of the map from Roder/Saint Dane.

Boom! Boom!Two more gunshots. Though they weren't exactly gunshots. Remember how I described the way the water cannons on the battleship fired compact missiles of water? As it turned out, that's exactly whatallthe guns on Cloral fired. And right now, standing out in the hallway was Wu Yenza and two aquaneers. I wasn't sure how they knew we were in trouble, but I didn't care.

The water bullets they fired hit the walls and exploded, doing more damage than any bullet could.

"Drop your weapons!" shouted Yenza.

While Roder/Saint Dane and the other raiders ducked for cover, Uncle Press grabbed Spader and me and pulled us into the back room. The raiders were too busy defending themselves to come after us.

"Is there another way out?" Uncle Press shouted.

"There's a ledge, all the way around the building," gasped Spader, still trying to get his breath back from nearly being strangled.

"Show us!"

From the other room I heard the booming sounds of more water missiles. .h.i.tting the walls. One shot blasted right through a wall and into the room we were in, missing me by a foot. These weren't like any water pistols I'd ever played with!

Spader threw open a window and leaped out. Uncle Press pushed me toward the window to go next. I hesitated. I was never good with heights and we were on the fifth floor. Yikes. But there was no other choice. There were more raiders than aquaneers outside. As soon as the bad guys realized that, they'd be coming after us. So I put my fear aside and climbed out the window.

There was a two-foot-wide ledge that went all around the building. Normally two feet would be plenty wide enough to walk on. But when you're five stories in the air, it feels more like two inches. I looked down and started getting dizzy.

"Go!" shouted Uncle Press. "He was already out behind me and pushing me to follow Spader.

Spader was moving quickly ahead of me, approaching the corner of the building. I took two steps and - Boom! Apiece of wall blasted out in front of me, spewing splintered bits of building everywhere. Suddenly I wasn't worried about the height anymore and started to run. More blasts of water missile blew out chunks of building just behind Uncle Press. If we stopped, we'd get blasted off the ledge.

Spader reached the corner and made the turn. I was right behind him. We were now on the far side of the building from where the battle was taking place. Spader found a window and jumped inside. For a moment I thought we were going to drop in on some unsuspecting guy taking a nap or something, but luckily we found ourselves in a stairwell.

"Go down the stairs!" Spader ordered. But rather than lead us down, he headed back toward the corridor where the fight was going on. Uncle Press grabbed him.

"What are you doing?" he shouted.

"Going after Saint Dane!"

He tried to pull away from Uncle Press, but my uncle held him firm.

"Listen, Spader," Uncle Press said. "You just had a taste of what we've been telling you about. Saint Dane has powers that you are no match for."

"Not to mention the gunfight going on," I added. "You go back there, you're history."

Spader was torn. His blood was boiling and he wanted a piece of Saint Dane - bad.

"We told you before," Uncle Press continued with a calm voice, trying to talk Spader down. "There's a bigger battle to be fought here. You heard what he said about Faar. It could be the last piece in the puzzle for destroying Cloral. Which do you think is more important? Going back in there and getting killed, or doing what your father wanted you to do?"

Spader looked up at my uncle with questioning eyes.