The Lost City of Faar (Pendragon)
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The second installment in an epic series of adventures
Fourteen-year-old Bobby Pendragon is not like other boys his age. His uncle Press is a Traveler, and, as Bobby has learned, that means Uncle Press is responsible, through his journeys, for solving interdimensional conflict wherever he encounters it. His mission is nothing less than to save the universe from ultimate evil. And he's taking Bobby along for the ride.
Fresh from his first adventure on Denduron, Bobby finds himself in the territory of Cloral, a vast world that is entirely covered by water. Cloral is nearing a disaster of huge proportions. Reading the journals Bobby sends home, his friends learn that the desperate citizens of the endangered floating cities are on the brink of war. Can Bobby -- suburban basketball star and all-around nice guy -- help rid the area of marauders, and locate the legendary lost land of Faar, which may hold the key to Cloral's survival?
He was sitting on the rocky floor to our left, crying. And it was pretty obvious why. The other person in the cavern… was his father. I had only seen the guy once, and he was dead at the time, but I remembered him. Dead guys tend to leave an impression. The question was, how could he possibly be here? Alive? When Uncle Press and I threw off our air globes, Spader’s father turned to us and said, “Look, your friends have arrived.” The two sat together looking like they were having a quiet,
welcomed all who came this way. It said simply:grolo’s. ”Center of the Grallion universe,” said Uncle Press. “And the finest sniggers ever pulled on any habitat this side of center.” ”If you say so,” I said, humoring him. ”Actually I have no idea,” he said softly. “I haven’t had sniggers anywhere else, but that’s what they tell me.” He winked and entered the pub. I was right after him, excited about finally discovering the wonders of the much-talked-about sniggers. As we walked inside, I saw
completely bald. Michael Jordan bald. That wasn’t all that weird, but something about his face wasn’t quite right. I couldn’t figure it out at first, but then it struck me: He didn’t have eyebrows. You never think about eyebrows until somebody doesn’t have them. It’s kind of freaky-looking. Not horrible, just freaky. Adding to the freaky quotient was the fact that his eyes were the lightest color blue I had ever seen. I actually had to look close to see that there was any color in them at all.
breathe with one of the Faarians in their swimskins. They would make something work. But now that the entrance was blocked under a ton of rubble, there was no way they’d get out of there. Now their only hope would be if they could repair the pen doors and escape that way. ”This is bad, Pendragon,” Spader said solemnly. “If they don’t get those hauler doors open - “ ”Yeah, I get it,” I said. The two of us stood there in a daze. There was every probability that the hauler hangar was going to be
any underwear on Denduron and the rough leather clothes gave me a raging rash that was only now starting to calm down. The material was soft and kind of rubbery. Cloral was all about water, so I guessed these clothes would be perfect for swimming and would dry fast. The colors were bright, too. All were on the cool end of the spectrum, blue, green, and purple. I knew from the times that Uncle Press had taken me scuba diving that the best colors to use underwater were in the blue family - they