Pendragon the Merchant of Death Free Online Read

The Merchant of Death

THE MERCHANT OF Expiry

PENDRAGON QUARTET 01

D. J. MacHale

Contents

Acknowledgments

Periodical #1

Denduron

Second World

Journal #1 (continued)

Denduron

Second Earth

Journal #1 (continued)

Denduron

Second World

Journal #2

Denduron

2nd World

Journal #2 (continued)

Denduron

Journal #2(connected)

Denduron

Second World

Journal #3

Denduron

Journal #3 (connected)

Denduron

Periodical #3 (connected)

Denduron

Journal #three (connected)

Denduron

2nd Earth

Journal #4

Denduron

Journal #4 (continued)

Denduron

Periodical #4 (connected)

Denduron

Journal #4 (continued)

Denduron

Journal #iv (connected)

Denduron

Second Globe

Periodical #5

Cloral

Near the Writer

A DF Books NERD's Release

This book is a work of fiction. Whatsoever references to historical events, existent people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the writer'due south imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or expressionless, is entirely casual.

ALADDIN PAPERBACKS

An banner of Simon & Schuster

Children's Publishing Division

1230 Avenue of the Americas

New York, NY 10020

This text of this book was set in Apollo and Helvetica

Library of Congress Command Number 2002101645

ISBN 0-7434-7015-X

Visit us on the Www:

http://www.SimonSays.com

I took a chance and stepped away from the door and…nothing happened. At to the lowest degree, null happened with the door. The tunnel was another matter birthday.

It started equally a hum. Information technology was depression at first, simply the frequency started to grow. Then the walls started to change. They went from solid gray to clear! It was truly an amazing sight. So amazing that I didn't stop to wonder what it all meant. That'south when I heard the music. Information technology wasn't a recognizable tune or anything, it was simply a bunch of soft, sweetness notes that were all jumbled up. It was almost hypnotic.

The thing that brought me back to myself was a strange awareness. I stood at the mouth of the tunnel and felt a tingling throughout my body. It wasn't horrible, just strange. The tingling grew stronger, and I felt an odd but unmistakable tug. I didn't realize it at start, but it soon dawned on me that I was being pulled into the tunnel!

This is the point. This is where my life inverse. What happened next turned everything I had ever known, everything I had ever believed in, everything I had ever idea to be real, totally inside out.

I got sucked into the rabbit hole. And I was headed for Wonderland.

For Evander

This book is a piece of work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or existent locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the production of the author'southward imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or expressionless, is entirely coincidental.

ALADDIN PAPERBACKS

An banner of Simon & Schuster

Children's Publishing Division

1230 Avenue of the Americas

New York, NY 10020

This text of this volume was prepare in Apollo and Helvetica

Library of Congress Control Number 2002101645

ISBN 0-7434-7015-10

Visit us on the World Wide Web:

http://www.SimonSays.com

Acknowledgments

Launching a new series, whether on television or in print, is a daunting task. Writing information technology is the piece of cake function. The hard role is getting information technology published or produced and so family unit and friends aren't the only ones who go to read it. To that terminate, at that place are several people who should be thanked for helping get Bobby Pendragon's adventures out into the earth. Many cheers get to Rob Wolken and Michael Prevett at AMG, who supported the vision in spite of the long odds. Also thanks to Richard Curtis, who guided me through the strange waters of the publishing world while always keeping his sense of humor and doing his best to keep mine. My trust and respect for the style Peter Nelson and Corinne Farley handle my scary legal matters grows with every new projection. I will always be grateful to them for watching out for my all-time interests and non making me read all the paperwork. Lisa Clancy gets big accolades for the many artistic insights that helped make this start book the all-time it can be and because she was the first one who had the guts to say, "Yep." Many thanks to Micol Ostow for always beingness cheerful and always having the answers. A very big give thanks you goes to my nephew Patrick McGorrill, who was the first age-appropriate test audience for the manuscript and gave me some creative ideas on how the rings should work so Bobby could send his journals to Mark. Thank you also to his mom, Carol, for wading through an early typhoon and helping observe some of the holes. Merely the biggest cheers goes to my wife, Evangeline, who dutifully read each chapter as it was created and gave the encouragement and affidavit I needed to continue pushing forwards in spite of all my doubts. If non for these people, the book yous at present hold wouldn't exist.

Periodical #1

Denduron

I promise you're reading this, Mark.

Heck, I hope everyone'southward reading this considering the but thing that'due south keeping me from going totally off my nut right now is getting this all downwardly on paper so that someday, when it'south all over, it'll help prove that I'm not a total whack chore. Yous see, 2 things happened yesterday that changed my life forever.

The first was that I finally kissed Courtney Chetwynde. Yes,the Courtney Chetwynde of the bites-her-lower-lip-when-she's-thinking, stares-right-into-your-heart-with-her-deep-gray-eyes, looks-unbelievable-in-her-volleyball-uniform, and always-smells-a-little-like-roses fame. Yeah, I kissed her. It was a long fourth dimension coming and it finally happened. Woo-hoo!

The second matter was that I was launched through a wormhole called a "flume" and got jacked across the universe to a medieval planet called "Denduron" that'due south in the center of a violent civil war.

But back to Courtney.

This wasn't your average "overnice to come across you" peck on the cheek. Oh no. This was a full-on, eyes closed, starting with tight lips but eventually morphing into a mutual open-mouth probe matter that lasted for a practiced thirty-second lifetime. And we were close, as well. Likereal close. I was holding her so tight I could feel her centre beating against my chest. Or maybe it was my centre. Or maybe our hearts were bouncing off each other. I accept no idea. All I know is that information technology was pretty cool. I hope I become the take chances to practice it over again, but right now it'due south not looking so good.

I guess information technology's kind of dumb to exist fixating on the glorious Courtney Chetwynde when the real problem is that I'm agape I'm going to die. Peradventure that's why I can't go her out of my caput. The memory of that buss is the only matter that feels real to me right now. I'k afraid that if I lose that memor

y I'm going to lose everything, and if that happens and then…well, I don't know what will happen and then because I don't understandanything that'south been happening to me. Maybe by writing it all down, it'll commencement to brand some sense.

Let me endeavor to piece together the events that led to my writing this. Upward until yesterday I was living large. At to the lowest degree as large as whatever normal xiv-twelvemonth-old guy can alive. School came pretty piece of cake; I kicked ass in sports; my parents were manner cool; I didn't hate my little sis, Shannon, usually. I had excellent friends, with y'all sitting right on top of the listing, Mark. I lived in this major business firm where I had my own individual space to play music or whatever and nobody bugged me. My domestic dog, Marley, was the coolest gilt retriever there always was; and I had recently macked with Courtney Chetwynde. (Did I mention that?) How much more goin' on can you go?

The thing is, I also had an Uncle Press.

You think him? He was the guy who always showed up at my birthday parties with some special surprise. He wouldn't just bring a pony, he'd bring atruckload of ponies for a minirodeo. He's the guy who turned my house into that light amplification by stimulated emission of radiation-maze game. Was that great or what? He'south the ane who was throwing the pizzas at my political party last year. Remember that guy? Every once in a while he'd show up, out of the blue, and do something amazing like accept me flying in a individual plane. Yep, he was a airplane pilot. Another time he gave me this computer that was then advanced, it wasn't even in stores even so. You know the calculator I have that you input numbers by talking to it? That was from Uncle Press. I gotta tell you, he was the coolio uncle everybody wished they had.

But at that place was e'er something a little mysterious about Uncle Press. He was my mom's blood brother, but she didn't say much about him. It was almost like she felt weird talking about him. Whenever I asked, she'd shrug and say something like, "Oh, you lot know him, he's his own man. How was schoolhouse today?" Basically, she'd dodge the question.

I don't know what he did for a living, merely he always had boatloads of coin. I figured he probably had some superlative-level regime job, similar doing research for NASA or something and information technology was all underground. So I didn't ask too many questions. He wasn't married, but sometimes he'd show up at the business firm with some odd graphic symbol. One time he brought this lady over who never said a discussion. He said she was his "friend," only I got the feeling she was more like his "girlfriend." I retrieve she was African or something because she was existent dark-skinned. And beautiful. But it was strange because she'd just stare at me and smile. I wasn't scared or anything because she had soft optics. And perchance she didn't talk because she didn't know English language, but notwithstanding information technology was kind of creepy.

I'd have to say that my Uncle Press was the coolest guy I'd ever met. That is, until yesterday.

The canton semifinal basketball was final nighttime. You know how important I am to that team. I'yard the highest scoring point guard in Stony Brook Inferior High history. I'g not bragging; that's just the fashion information technology is. Then for me to miss that game would have been like Kobe Bryant missing a Lakers playoff game. Okay, perchance I'm notthat important, but it would non accept been cool for me to bail on that game. Mom and Dad had already left for the gym with Shannon. I had a ton of homework and I knew I'd be fried afterwards, and then I had to go it done before leaving. I had only enough time to scarf down a banana and some Pop-Tarts, feed Marley, spring on my bike, and boom over to school. At least that was the plan. I can't help merely retrieve that if I had done my homework but a picayune bit faster, or decided non to throw the tennis ball with Marley, or even waited till I got to school to take a leak, none of this would have happened. Only it did.

I grabbed my pack, headed for the front door, threw it open and came face to face with…Courtney Chetwynde.

I froze. She froze. It was like somebody striking the pause button on 2 lives. Except at that place was zilch static about what was racing through my brain. The vanquish I had on her dated dorsum to when nosotros were in grade schoolhouse. She was e'er then…perfect. Simply not in that unattainable she'south likewise good for everybody way. She was beautiful and smart and dandy at sports and she laughed and told jokes. I think that was the central. The fact that she told jokes. Perchance that sounds stupid, but if you tell jokes it shows you lot're willing to look stupid. And if you've got the whole package going on and still willing to let people laugh at you then, man, whatelse do you want?

Of course I wasn't the only i who felt this mode about Courtney. I was 1 in a long line of admirers. But she was standing atmy front door. Instantly, every synapse in my brain started firing to try and notice the perfect, spontaneous matter to say. The starting time words out of your mouth in a fourth dimension of crunch can color someone'due south opinion of you forever. Information technology either shows that you're totally in accuse and ready to handle any situation with composure and wit, or that you're a blundering idiot whose listen will freeze at the showtime sign of force per unit area. This all flashed through my brain in the few nanoseconds while we were on "break." Now it was my motility. She came to the house, it was my turn to respond. Then I hitched my pack upward on my shoulder, leaned casually against the doorjamb, gave her a piddling smile and said: "Yo."

Yo??? That'south not even a existent give-and-take! Nobody says "Yo" unless they're impersonating Sylvester Stallone, which I was definitelynot doing. I was all set up for the grin to drop off her face in crushing disappointment as she turned and left without maxim a word. Instead, she bit her lower lip (which meant she was thinking) and said:

"Hi."

That was good. "Howdy" isn't much higher upward on the cool scale than "Yo." I was back in the game. It was fourth dimension to offset playing.

"What'south upwards?" I said.

Okay, maybe I wasn't ready to play merely yet. It was easier to lob the ball back into her court. Information technology was then that I noticed something weird. Courtney looked nervous. Not out of her mind scared or anything, merely a little bit uncomfortable. My confidence soared. She was just as tense as I was. That was expert.

"I know you've got to get to the game and all, I don't desire to make you late," she said with a little embarrassed smile.

What game? Oh, correct, the county semifinal. Somehow it had slipped my mind.

"I've got plenty of time," I lied casually. "C'mon in."

I was recovering nicely. As she walked past me to come inside I got that faint hint of rose fragrance. Information technology took every ounce of willpower not to do a huge-old sucking inhale to try and take hold of every ounce of that wonderful smell. That would have been impaired and this was definitely not the time to exercise something impaired because Courtney was now inside my home. She was on my turf. I closed the door backside her and we were alone.

I had no idea what to exercise next. Courtney turned to me and I made contact with those amazing grey eyes. My knees went soft. I prayed she didn't notice.

"I wasn't sure if I should come hither," she said tentatively.

"I'm glad yous did," I shot back with perfect timing. I kept the ball in her court, yet yet managed to make her feel at ease. I was on burn.

"I'1000 not actually certain why I picked now to come up. Maybe it was to wish you good luck in the game. But I think it's more than than that."

"Really?" Perfect comeback.

"I'm not exactly sure how to say this, Bobby, simply since nosotros were kids, I've had this…feeling about you."

Feeling? Feeling is good, unless she feels similar I'1000 an ax murderer or something.

"Oh?" I shot back. Noncommittal, nonaggressive, perfect.

"Man, I feel like such a geek maxim this." She broke centre contact. I was losing her. I didn't desire her to chicken out so the all-time thing I could do was throw her a bone.

"Courtney, in that location are a lot of words that come up to mind when I think of you lot, but 'geek' is definitely not i of them."

She looked back to me and smiled. We were dorsum on track.

"I'm not really sure how to say this, so I'll just say it. There'south something most you, Bobby. I know yous're a brain and a jock and popular and all, but information technology's more than that. You've got this, like, I don't know, this aura thing going on. People trust you lot. They lik

e you. And information technology's non similar you're trying to testify off or anything. Peradventure that's function of information technology. Yous don't act like you think yous're improve than everybody else. You're just this actually good guy"—she paused before going on, so the bombshell—"who I've had this incredible crush on since quaternary grade."

Zip in my wildest fantasy could accept prepared me for that. I was speechless. I hoped my mouth wasn't hanging open up in stupefied shock.

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