The Lost City of Faar Read Online Free PDF Page A

long time if I hadn’t heard the familiar sound of musical notes coming from the flume overhead. It took a second for me to register what was happening. Uncle Press was about to arrive. That was good. But I was treading water on the very spot where he was going to land. That was bad. I instantly kicked and lunged for the side of the pool to get out of the way. No sooner did I touch the rocky edge when I heard, “Eeeehaaaa!”
    Uncle Press shot out of the flume headfirst. The force of it sent him sailing out into the center of the cavern. He seemed to hang there for an impossible second until gravity kicked in. As he began his arc down, he thrust his arms out to form a perfect swan dive. Then just before splashdown, he brought his arms together and entered the water almost vertically. He barely even made a splash. A perfect ten all the way around.
    I pulled myself up and sat on the edge of the pool as Uncle Press resurfaced. He had a huge, exhilarated smile on his faceas he shook his head to throw his wet hair out of his eyes.
    â€œYeah! I love this place!” he shouted with joy. “Headfirst is the only way to go.”
    I was beginning to think that Uncle Press liked being a Traveler. At least he enjoyed it more than I did, that was for sure. With two quick strokes he swam to the side of the pool and hauled himself out. He was a little out of breath from his dramatic arrival, so he sat on the edge and looked at me with eyes that were alive with excitement.
    â€œWelcome to Cloral,” he said with glee. “This is my favorite territory. No contest.”
    He sounded like some kind of tour guide whose job it was to make sure I was enjoying my vacation. But this was no vacation. Not even close.
    â€œSo what’s the deal here?” I asked, not really wanting to hear the answer. “Is there a war? Some impending disaster? Some evildoings that Saint Dane cooked up to make our lives miserable?”
    Uncle Press gave a shrug. “I don’t know,” was his casual response.
    Huh? Up until now Uncle Press had all the answers. He didn’t always share them with me, but it was good to know that at least one of us wasn’t totally clueless.
    â€œDon’t know?” I shot back. “Why do you keep stuff from me? If we’re headed for trouble, I want to know.”
    â€œI’m not trying to hide things from you, Bobby,” he said sincerely. “I really don’t know what’s happening here. On Denduron, I’d been living with the Milago and knew that there was civil war brewing. But I’ve only been to Cloral a couple of times. As far as I know, everything here is fine and dandy.”
    â€œSo then why are we here?” I asked with frustration.
    Uncle Press looked me right in the eye, suddenly all business.
    â€œWe’re here because Saint Dane is here,” he said soberly. “He hasn’t tipped his hand yet, but he will.”
    Right. Saint Dane. Back on Denduron, moments before Loor and I had made our death-defying escape from the mine shaft, Saint Dane had jumped into a flume and shouted, “Cloral!” Since the mine was seconds away from blowing up, Loor and I would have gladly followed him, except that he sent a killer shark riding a wave of water back through the flume to stop us. We had two choices: death by shark-lunch, or flee deeper into the doomed mine. We chose to run and luckily escaped through a ventilation shaft before the entire place exploded.
    It suddenly dawned on me that the reason we were here on Cloral was because of me. I was the one who knew Saint Dane came here. I guess I was playing more of a part in this whole saga than I really cared to.
    â€œTell me about Cloral,” I asked. I figured I should at least know what to expect from this new territory.
    Uncle Press stood up and glanced around the colorful, living, underground cavern.
    â€œThe whole planet is covered by water,” he began. “As far as