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Authors: Christopher Pike

BOOK: Alosha
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“That's a great idea. It will save time,” Steve said.

“A taxi will be expensive,” Cindy said.

“I'll take care of that,” Karl said.

“Wait. I want to visit the tree on the way up,” Ali said. “You guys should see it.”

“Going to the tree will take us out of the way,” Karl said. “We would have to tell the taxi to wait for us at the road while we hiked to it.
That
could get expensive.”

“I agree,” Steve said. “I don't want to hike any farther than I have to.”

“But don't you guys want to see it?” Ali asked.

“Sure, if we didn't have a two-day deadline,” Karl said.

Steve stood. “Let's discuss it tomorrow. I've got to get home and pack.”

Cindy also stood. “I better go as well. But one last question, and I know Ali's going to hit the roof. If the woods are crawling with elementals, shouldn't we bring a gun?”

“No,” Ali said. “Absolutely not. Guns are bad.”

“They're only bad in the hands of bad people,” Cindy said. “I told you, my father owns a gun.”

“I can protect us,” Ali said.

“Some of us would like to be able to protect ourselves, thank you,” Steve said.

“It's illegal for someone our age to carry a gun,” Ali said.

“Where is the law against shooting a troll?” Cindy asked.

“We need a rifle is what we need,” Steve muttered.

“We're not bringing any guns!” Ali said, exasperated.

Karl raised his hand. “Let's not argue about this now. We have so much else to do. It's another thing we can talk about in the morning.”

Their meeting broke up. Ali was left with mixed feelings. She was happy her friends were coming, but feared their motivations were confused. Steve was going so he could hang out with her. Cindy was coming because they had
pressured her into it. Only Karl seemed to understand how serious the situation was.

She felt funny accepting his help. She disliked taking charity. Of course she needed a jacket and a sleeping bag. She would freeze without them. In the morning she would go to the bank and see exactly how much she had in her savings. It was possible Cindy or Steve could loan her a few things. Her mother had always been against getting in debt to people. She used to say that when you owed people, you lost a part of your freedom.

Her mother had been so wise.

Ali wished she had asked Nemi about her.

CHAPTER SEVEN

T
he next morning Ali was up at dawn. She had slept poorly. She had kept looking at the clock. The deadline Nemi had set plagued her. She had checked on the Internet. The moon would be straight overhead at two in the morning the following day—which, technically, would actually be the day after tomorrow. Whatever, they had only forty-two hours left to reach the top of the peak.

She was not the only one up early. She had hardly come out of the bathroom when Karl called. He wanted to take a cab to Tracer and shop for hiking equipment.

“What size are you?” he asked.

“I went through Steve's garage with him last night. We found two old
sleeping bags and he had an old jacket in his closet. It's torn but I think I can sew it and make it work.”

“You're still going to need crampons and an ice ax. What size are your boots?”

“Five. Cindy is a four and a half. I don't know what kind of boots Steve wears.”

“I'll call him,” Karl said.

“Is there a sporting goods store in Tracer open at this time?”

“Sort of. It belongs to a friend of my father's. He's going to open it early for me, but he has promised not to tell my dad what we're up to. The guy's cool.”

“That's great. What time do you think you'll be back?”

“Not sure. Besides shopping, I have to get Barney Adams to cover my paper route. I have to show him the houses. I can get together with you guys at around ten, I think.”

“That late?”

“Sorry. We can't go up there unprepared. Anyway, you and the others buy food and pack. But watch what Steve buys—I don't want to eat doughnuts and drink coffee for the next few days.”

“I'll keep an eye on him,” Ali said.

Karl said goodbye and Ali examined the sleeping bag she had from Steve's garage. It smelled—she could not imagine sleeping in it unless it was washed. Throwing it in the machine, she took a harder look at the jacket. The coat needed serious work; there was a two-foot rip in the back. Reluctantly, she decided to let Steve and Cindy handle the food buying. She called Cindy to get her going.

“What time is it?” Cindy mumbled into the phone.

“Six.”

Cindy groaned. “I'm not cut out for this hero stuff.”

“Get up and shower, you'll feel better. Then get over to Steve's house and wake him. Gerson's is open twenty-four hours—go there. Use your own money. I'll give you some later after I go to the bank. Remember, you're buying food for four people for four days. Don't get any junk.”

“How about candy bars?”

Ali loved chocolate. “Get protein bars. The tasty kind.”

“How about potato chips?”

“I don't know.”

“Ice cream?”

“Cindy! We're not carrying a refrigerator on our backs. Get food that doesn't need to be cooked.”

“We're not going to make any fires?” Cindy asked.

“No. We don't want to draw any attention to ourselves.”

They exchanged goodbyes. Ali set to work on her jacket. Steve had got it from his dad, who had got it from his dad. It looked like a World War Two jacket. The faded material smelled like history.

She figured she had two hours. Her mother had taught her to sew. She would shorten the sleeves, she decided, take in the shoulders, repair the tear. Getting out the sewing machine, she hoped Cindy was able to wake Steve. Last night, searching in his garage with him, he had begun to express doubts about what they were doing. The truth was neither of her friends believed her.

Ali worked non-stop until eight, when she got a frantic call from Cindy. “You won't believe what just happened to Steve and me!” she said.

“What?”

“We got robbed! Now we have no money to buy groceries!”

“Who robbed you? Wait a second, did you bump into a weird short guy with an Irish accent?”

“Yeah! How do you know him?”

“Same way you do,” Ali muttered.

“He took our watches! My purse and Steve's wallet!”

“You know Mr. Fields's pawnshop? It's on Hadley. Meet me there in five minutes.”

“Why are we going to a pawnshop?” Cindy complained.

“Trust me, he'll be there.”

Ali left the house and got on her bike. Breakwater was so small—everything was five minutes away. She was not sure where Cindy had called from,
but she reached the pawnshop before her friends. Paddy O'Connell was coming out the front door when she pulled up. He nodded politely to her as she came up the steps.

“Top of the morning to you, Missy,” he said.

“Hello Paddy.” Ali felt strong,
real
strong—she guessed this must be a crisis. Grabbing Paddy by the arm, she pulled him close. “You just robbed my friends! You robbed me the other day!”

Paddy tried to shake loose, was shocked when he felt how strong she was. “My pardon, Missy, but you are hurting my arm.”

“I'm going to break your arm if you don't give my friends back what you stole!”

He stared up at her with his bright green-gold eyes and his wide mouth trembled. He had his lousy makeup on again, she saw. “Excuse me, Missy, but I think you have mistaken me for another. I'm not a thief, I assure you, only a stranger to these parts.”

Ali tightened her grip. “Don't lie to me!”

Paddy gasped in pain. “Surely we can talk about this, Missy? If you would only let go of . . .”

She shook him; his hat almost came off. “Did you steal from them or not? Tell me the truth or you will be missing an arm!”

“Well . . . no, yes, sort of. You're hurting me!”

“You're a thief! That's what you are!”

He was indignant. “I'm not a thief!”

“Then what are you?” She pulled him closer. She could feel his breath on her face, and he sure must have been able to feel hers. His breath was not unpleasant, however, not like the trolls.

It smelled like shamrocks.

Paddy did not answer, only looked more miserable. She must have really been hurting him, she realized, and softened her grip. A bead of sweat broke on his forehead. It rolled over the side of his nose, onto his cheek, and as it did so it washed away a portion of his makeup. Ali was shocked to see he had green skin.

“You're a leprechaun!” she gasped, letting go of him and taking a step back. Paddy quickly rubbed his face, trying to cover up the green blemish.

“A leprechaun, Missy? There are no leprechauns. This is a world of men and women, boys and girls. What nonsense are you saying?”

She pointed at him. “You came through the Yanti! You're from the elemental kingdom!”

He looked shocked. “You know of the Yanti?” he whispered. “Who told you?”

“It doesn't matter. You're a leprechaun, admit it.”

Paddy glanced down at his sore arm. “Well, kind of, yes. But it's no business of yours what I am. When I met you, I didn't ask what you were.”

“But you stole my money. Why? Don't you have a pot of gold lying around somewhere?”

Paddy was insulted. “If I had a pot of gold, I wouldn't be here. I only came here to seek my fortune. I don't see the crime in that.”

“Wherever you're from, you must know it's a crime to steal. In our dimension we have jails for people . . . for creatures like you.”

Paddy looked positively terrified at the mention of the word jail. “But I cannot go there! I cannot be locked up! You do not lock up leprechauns! I will die if you put me in jail!”

“Then you have to stop stealing or that's where you will end up.”

He lowered his head. “I hear you, Missy. Paddy will never steal again. Now if you will just let me get about my business . . .”

She blocked his way. “You're such a liar, you'll say anything. What do you need so much money for?”

He hesitated. “To eat. To buy gold. What else?”

He no longer had his pillowcase with him but there was a small brown bag tied to his thick black belt. She pointed at it. “Give me that,” she said.

He backed up and covered the bag with his hands. “No, Missy.”

She grabbed his arm again, feeling quicker as well as stronger. The sensation of power was delicious. Yet she was not in a mood to waste time with Paddy. Reaching down, she snapped the bag free; it crunched like a bag full of
change in her fingers, and she did not need to open it to know it was stuffed with gold coins. Paddy looked as if he would cry.

“That's me gold!” he whimpered.

“I'm going to keep your gold for the time being.” A wild idea came to her. She added, “I'll give it back to you after you help me.”

“No!” he squealed, trying to grab it back. But she held it out of reach. He was pretty short and not much of a leaper. His black boots did not help matters; they looked awfully tight. Then again, maybe leprechauns had small feet.

“You don't get your gold back until you do what I ask.”

Paddy looked so sad one would have thought he had just been told he was going to be executed. “What do you want?” he asked quietly.

Before she could reply, Cindy and Steve appeared. They immediately started yelling at Paddy about how he had stole their money. Ali had to step in front of him for his protection. She was not afraid of him running, though. Not as long as she held the gold. She took a minute to calm her friends.

“He has the money and he's going to give it back,” Ali said. “Aren't you, Paddy?”

He frowned. “When I get me gold back.”

“No,” Ali said firmly. “You give them the money now. Plus Steve's wallet and Cindy's purse, and their watches.”

Paddy glanced at the pawnshop. “Paddy already sold their stuff, Missy.”

“Then you unsell it,” Ali snapped.

“You took me gold!” he complained.

“His gold?” Cindy said.

“Who is this guy?” Steve asked.

“He's not a guy, he's a leprechaun,” Ali said.

Cindy and Steve both went to laugh but then they looked a little closer at Paddy. Cindy reached out to wipe the makeup off his face. Paddy growled and brushed her hand away.

“Paddy didn't give you permission to touch, lassie,” he said.

“Trust me, under all that makeup, he has green skin,” Ali said. “I think our
little friend here is the first of the elementals to reach Breakwater. Isn't that right, Paddy?”

The leprechaun sulked. “Paddy doesn't have to answer your questions.”

“Yes, you do,” Ali said. “You remember how strong I am? You don't behave and you go to jail.”

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