Alosha (17 page)

He shook his head. “I hate being the weak one in the group.”

“I like it. It takes the heat off me,” Cindy said.

Ali glanced back the way they had come, down the winding path and the endless trees. She could not see or hear the trolls but knew they were near. Also, she sensed something else approaching—a heavy shadow, like the coming night, if a shadow could be called a thing. Once again, her dream came back to her. The Shaktra had appeared near the end of it, mocking her, calling her out to battle. But even in the dream she had not understood what it wanted, or even what it was. She had only known that it hated.

Ali suspected that it would be a long night.

T
hey set up camp two hundred yards off the path, in a spot Karl had discovered. The place was partially sheltered, with high rocks on one side and thick trees on the other. It was not a cave, however; it was still exposed in two directions, and already that looked like it might be a problem. A nasty wind had begun to blow out of the east, and because they were afraid to build a fire, Ali worried that they were going to have a cold sleep.

They used the cell phones, called everyone they were supposed to. Ali felt guilty lying to her dad. He was somewhere in New Mexico. He sounded exhausted.

The pup tents Karl had bought were easy to set up. They assembled all four
in a row. She felt bad they didn't have a tent for Paddy, but he brushed off her concern.

“Rather sleep in a coffin than in one of those,” he said.

The sun had set by the time they sat to eat dinner. They brought out a bag of nuts, a loaf of bread, and opened two cans of tuna. Unfortunately, for some reason, the fish tasted old. Ali tried having a bowl of granola with water poured over it—yuck!—and quickly set it aside. She was surprised when Cindy took a bag of barbecued potato chips out of her backpack.

“I should have known,” Ali said. “Give me some.”

Cindy offered her the bag. “I should make you beg.”

Paddy was generous with his beef jerky. He passed around his supply. Ali would never have imagined that beef jerky and potato chips would taste so good together.

Pretty soon they were all chewing away. In the west the light faded, while in the east a white glow appeared. With the mountain in the way, they could not see the moon directly, but they all knew it was only one day shy of being full.

Overhead the clouds wrestled the stars. Looked like the stars were going to lose. The wind continued to be a problem but it wasn't awful.

When Paddy had finished eating, he opened a fresh bottle of whiskey and filled his pipe. He offered the drink and tobacco to the rest of them but got no takers. Easing back onto a rock, he returned to blowing smoke rings into the trees, a hobby that continued to make Ali nervous. Yet it appeared as if Paddy felt at home in the group.

“I wish you wouldn't do that,” Karl told the leprechaun.

“It's okay, I think,” Ali said quickly.

“Others might see them,” Steve said.

“Paddy says they'll just think it's a leprechaun,” Ali said.

“Are leprechauns second-class citizens where you come from?” Cindy asked Paddy.

“Don't understand the question, lassie,” he said.

“Why do you call me lassie and Ali, Missy?” Cindy asked.

“Missy has the power. She's the boss.”

“Paddy,” Ali said.

“What I mean is, are leprechauns looked down upon?” Cindy asked.

“Aye. Short. Everybody has to look down to see us.”

“That's not what I mean,” Cindy said.

“What she's saying is, how are leprechauns treated by other elementals?” Ali said.

Paddy puffed away. “Treated like leprechauns, aye, that is what we are. But if you ask who is friendly to us folk, I say none. Elves take care of elves. Dwarves take care of dwarves.”

“What about the fairies?” Ali asked.

“There are nice fairies. There are mean fairies. Hard to tell them apart just by looking at them. My pa used to say, the only good fairy is a sleeping fairy.”

“Why is that?” Steve asked.

Paddy's eyes lit up. “When they sleep, you can take their stardust.”

“You mean, steal it?” Cindy said. “That's not right.”

“They have plenty, why not share some with us leprechauns?” Paddy asked.

“What can you do with fairy stardust?” Ali asked. Paddy had a drink of whiskey before answering the question.

“Many things, Missy. Fly for one.”

“Have you ever flown using the stuff?” Cindy asked.

Paddy thought it was a silly question. “Leprechauns can't fly. Only fairies fly, and only if they have enough stardust.”

“How does it run out?” Ali asked. “On fairies, I mean?”

“Don't know, it just does. Disappears quick when they are up in the air.”

“Where does it come from?” Ali asked.

“Fairies.”

“No. Where do they get it?” Ali asked.

He hesitated. “Don't know, never asked them.”

Ali had a sudden inspiration. “Is it made from gold?”

Paddy stared at her a long time. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Ali nodded to herself. Leprechauns craved the stardust, and tried to steal it, because it was related to gold, and was just as valuable, if not more so. The fact
excited her for reasons she did not understand. And the fact that the
fact
had come to her, out of the blue, also thrilled her. One thing for sure, the stardust was important, she would have to learn more about it.

“The elementals want to get rid of us because we're destroying the Earth,” Ali said carefully. “If they succeed—if there is a war and they win—what will they do next? Will they stay in our dimension?”

“Paddy not sure, thinks so. The elves want to turn the world into a forest. The dwarves have an eye on your cities. All that concrete and asphalt excites them—makes their beards grow faster. If you ask Paddy, those two will be fighting over your world in no time.”

“How would the leprechauns feel about that?” Karl asked.

“No one cares how leprechauns feel. Whatever happens, happens. We go about our business, keep to ourselves.”

“How about the trolls?” Ali asked. “Are they friendly with elves? Dwarves?”

“Trolls have no friends. Feed them and tell them what to do and they do it. Don't feed them and they eat you. Trolls are as dumb as rocks.”

“Do they turn into stone in the sun?” Ali asked.

“Don't like it, for sure. Their skin gets hard.”

“But they have to be in direct sunlight?” Ali asked.

“Aye.”

“What do they hope to win in this war?” Ali asked.

“Trolls do not hope. They eat, they sleep.” Paddy added in a softer voice, “Eat boys and girls if they're available. If Lord Vak allows it, and he has.”

“This Lord Vak sounds like one angry dude,” Steve said.

“Aye. Lord Vak is very powerful,” Paddy said.

It was time to rest. They were exhausted. Barely saying goodnight, Cindy and Steve crawled into their tents and went to sleep. Paddy pulled up a pile of leaves for his back and a rock for his head. Tilting his green hat over his eyes, he also went straight to sleep. Ali was left with Karl to clean up. The moon had finally come up over the eastern ridge. Even without a fire, they could see each other clearly.

“I'll take the first watch,” Karl said, as he put the nuts and bread back in
Cindy and Steve's backpacks. He had mostly equipment in his own pack: the crampons and ice axes.

“That's not fair. You're as tired as I am,” Ali said.

“Sure. But you're the boss, remember? Besides having to hike, you have all that responsibility. It must wear you out.”

Ali blushed. “I don't feel like the boss.”

“Someone has to be. It can't be me.”

“Why do you say that?”

He nodded toward Cindy and Steve. “They're your friends. They hardly know me. They certainly haven't accepted me yet.”

“I think you scare them with the pace you set.”

“I just want to get you to the top on time.”

Ali looked in the direction of Pete's Peak. Standing in the middle of the forest, they could not see the top of the mountain. All day, they had got only glimpses of it. But she continued to feel as if it called to her. One thing was certain, when they left the shelter of the trees, they would be exposed. Whoever or whatever was in the forest would see them.

“Can we make it in time?” she asked.

“It's going to be tight. Tomorrow, we'll be hiking deep into the night.”

“Is that safe? At the top with the snow?”

“It's very dangerous,” Karl admitted. “But the moonlight will help.”

Ali sighed. “There's another danger. When you went into the gorge with Paddy, I heard trolls behind us. I never saw them but I'm positive they were there.”

“Stalking us?” he asked.

“Looks like it.”

“Have you heard them since?”

“No.”

“How come you didn't tell me earlier?”

“I wanted to get you alone. I didn't want to scare the others.”

Karl scanned the woods. With the bright moonlight glistening on every branch and leaf, the forest appeared enchanted, wrapped in a snowy white
spell. They could have stumbled into a fairy tale, Ali thought. They had all the necessary characters present: trolls and leprechauns, talking trees and dark fairies. The only problem was that she was never going to live happily ever after. Her mother was dead; she was never going to have another mother.

“Don't keep secrets from me. I need to know,” Karl said.

“I won't do it again.”

He paused. “Am I being a jerk?”

“Why do you say that?”

He shrugged. “I have no idea how you see me.”

“I have no idea how you see me.”

He grinned. “You have the power, Missy. I have to like you.”

She smiled, too, but it was a sad smile. “That's not a reason to like someone.”

He did not reply, just lowered his head. Did he think she was scolding him? She had not meant to. She supposed she still had to learn how to talk to boys, particularly to ones she liked. To escape the uneasy moment, she bid Karl a hasty goodnight and crawled into her tent, wiggling into her sleeping bag. The wash at home had done the bag a world of good; it no longer stunk.

She did not seal the pup tent opening.

The wind continued to blow; she left her coat on. She watched as Karl stepped to the edge of their camp and sat on a boulder, his back to her. In many ways, she thought, he was as important to their adventure as she was. From the start he had taken charge. They would have been lost without him.

Ali closed her eyes, tried to sleep. She was exhausted, yet sleep did not come easily. For some reason, her right arm ached. The skin on the back was tight; it felt on the verge of tearing. Of course it wasn't just
some
reason that made it hurt. It always bothered her when she thought about that night.

The night her mother died. Her twelfth birthday.

She remembered so much and so little. She had been driving home at night with her mother, from a play at school. She had been one of the stars in the play,
Frogs and Freaks
. She had been the main frog, in fact, Princess Wartly.
She was not sure where the play had come from, but had heard a student at school from years before had written it.

The story was about a bunch of frogs who ruled the world, and a group of freaky creatures who were trying to steal the toad's power. Steve was in the play as well—a giant ogre who always needed his back scratched.

After the opening night, on the way home, she chatted excitedly with her mother. Being onstage was a new experience for her. She loved having the warm lights on her face, and thrilled at how the audience followed her every word. Her mother shared her excitement. She promised Ali she would go to every performance.

“You don't want to do that,” Ali said. “You've seen it—you know what's going to happen next. You'll get bored.”

Her mother took her eyes off the road, glanced her way. “Nothing you do bores me,” she said.

Ali snorted. “Yeah, sure. What about when I scream at you?”

“When do you scream at me?”

“All the time, in my head. I'm just too polite to do it out loud.”

Her mother reached over and took her hand. “You are more than polite.”

“I'm also a great actress? A better liar?”

Her mother chuckled. “No, I'm talking about something else.”

“What?”

Ali never forgot the change in her mother's face right then. Their talk was light, frivolous—nothing they were saying really made much sense. They were just goofing off. Yet when her mom looked over at her, it was as if her eyes were suddenly connected to a river that was capable of washing away the pain of the world. In that instant, it was as if the person who had given birth to her and raised her was more than human.